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ponderingmoonlight · 6 months

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After your answer I feel more confident🥰Request about Nanami. He survived Shibuya, but suffered burns to his left side and eye. Nanami began to develop a complex and hide behind a layer of clothing. He thinks his girlfriend deserves better. But she thinks differently and is still ready to give him love🥺I saw such a fic once, but your hands will make this idea much better, I know

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reaching out and that absolutely adorable request! Please let me know what you think, I hope you'll like it. Don't hesitate to reach out again🤍

Nanami hiding his scars from his girlfriend after surviving Shibuya

Pairing: Nanami x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,6k

Synopsis: basically the request above lol

Warnings: if you need some comfort this one's for you, so much fluff I'm gonna faint

Tags: @hellkaiserinphoenix @polarbvnny @obeythebutler

It was a ride on razor’s edge. Yes, the Shibuya incident turned your life upside down. The countless injuries, Gojo being sealed, so many deaths.

And the love of your life almost losing his very own life through the hands of curses.

“Where is he, Megumi?”

“(y/n)…”

Your eyes filled with tears, that unwell feeling in your guts proved itself right all over again. You knew things weren’t going right when your boyfriend stopped replying. But that…Seeing Maki and that old man like that…

That was so much worse that you thought.

“Where. Is. He.”, you hissed through gritted teeth, the boy in front of you almost drowning in his own sweat.

“He’s back at Jujutsu High. When I last saw him…Things weren’t going well for Nanami…I…I don’t know if he’s still alive…”

You felt like fainting, throwing up, beating everything and everyone, crying in the corner. How? How did this happen? Your husband, a grade 1 sorcerer, so skilled that his sheer presence sends shivers down the spine of his opponents…Your fucking boyfriend.

On the brick of death?

Yes, it was a true blessing that he barely made it. Since that fateful day, you were on his side night in night out, talking him through the silence, holding his hand while Shoko changed his bandages. Until eventually, he was able to return back home. Back to your shared apartment, back into your normal everyday life.

But it was far away from being like it was before Shibuya. No, something inside Kento changed so drastically that you sometimes feel like you don’t know him anymore.

“Hey sweetheart”, he greets you softly, arms embracing you in a tight hug.

“Good morning”, you mumble, stretching out your longing arms to feel him a little closer.

Just before your hands are able to hold onto his biceps, he turns away again and leaves you alone in the bed. You stare at his covered back, sadness washing over you like a wave. Silently he stands up, busying himself with his wardrobe while all you can do is watch him closely in an desperate attempt to stop yourself from crying.

You have no idea when was the last time since you saw your boyfriend in a t-shirt, let alone shirtless. Since his burns aren’t covered in bandages anymore and his skin seems to be entirely healed into a scar, he hides his body from your hungry gaze very well. But why? This has to come to an end, right here and now.

You lift yourself off the bed, hugging his much larger frame from behind. God, it feels so good to press your head against his tight muscles, his delicious taste making you feel whole again.

It was hard to bear, the thought of losing him. Even days after he got burned to severely, Shoko wasn’t entirely sure if he’ll be able to make it. It became obvious that if he’ll survive, he will have to live with his left side covered in scare tissue for the rest of his life. And while your love for him and his body grew only stronger, you feel like this doesn’t apply to him. Yes, something inside you tells you that his change in behaviour might have something to do with that.

Why does he wear long-sleeved shirts all the time, while does he not allow you to see and feel his naked skin anymore, why does he seem to always turn away the left side of his face from you? It truly breaks your heart, knowing that he seems to have lost his self-confidence after surviving such a traumatic incident.

“Don’t turn away from me, love.”

Your fingers reach for the hem of his shirt, silently begging him to stay this one time, to allow your touch after months of turning you down.

“(y/n)”, he protests, body already on its way to shield itself from your longing hands.

“Why hiding from me when all I see is you?”, you question, hands intertwining with his.

“I’m not good enough for you.”

Softly, he pushes you away, walking into the living room while you try to process his words. Him, not good enough for you?

“Why would you even suggest something like that? Kento, please stop.”

Out of instinct you go after him, mind racing in thoughts. What is all of this about?

“You are such a stunning woman, your whole life is still ahead of you. Why waste your time with a scarred man like me? I have nothing to give you, (y/n). Not even beauty.”

You can’t believe your ears, mouth snapping open in pure shock.

“You have to be joking”, you breathe out, head shaking vehemently.

This is wrong in so many ways, almost an insult against humanity. Why would he say something so ridiculous?

“Look at me, (y/n)”, he blurts out.

With a swift motion he takes off his blue shirt, revealing the huge scar that covers the left side of his upper body entirely. His face darts towards you, completely twisted in agony.

“Why would a woman like you want a man like me? I don’t deserve your beauty, (y/n).”

“Stop it. Right now”, you reply so harshly that his mouth shuts in an instant.

With fast steps you cross the room, coming to a stand in front of his gorgeous body.

“This is the body of the man I love, of a man that fought hard in order to save countless people’s life. This is the body of the man I thought I’ve lost forever, the body of a man who always puts the well-being of others above his own. You, Kento Nanami, are the man I love. Even if you lost all your limbs, if you could no longer speak or see. Damn, even if you didn’t remember me, I would always choose you. Because you are the man who stole my heart entirely. These scars tell the story of what a brave man you are, what you survived despite everything spoke against it. I love every inch of your skin, no matter how scarred or wrecked.”

Your fingertips wander over his uninjured skin.

“From the part that I’ve touched so often…”

Slowly, you caress the scarred tissue on his right side, brushing over his shoulder, collarbone and buff chest while never taking your eyes off him.

“…to the part I have yet to discover.”

“Look at me, I am a crippled man. I look like someone out of a horror movie-“

“You look like a hero to me”, you interrupt him immediately.

It’s hard to keep your composure when the man you love more than anything else in this world stands in front of you with his face twisted in agony. God, if he only knew how beautiful he is, how you feel even closer to him since the Shibuya incident. Why isn’t he able to see himself through your eyes, why does he have to suffer even after surviving his burns?

“Why can’t you understand that you’re all that I want?”

Your voice cracks, tears now streaming down your face. The sheer thought of losing him alone makes you die from the inside. No other man will ever be able to replace him. Why would you leave Kento anyway? He still looks absolutely irresistible to your hungry gaze, the way his tight muscles flex underneath his shirts making your knees go weak just like always. And that scars just add to your affection towards him.

“Please, don’t hide from me. Let me love you with your scars and everything else. In my eyes, you will always be the man I fell in love with.”

And for the first time since knowing him, you the grown man in front of you break down in tears. His arms wrap around you hungrily, pressing you against his own body as if you’re air and he can’t breathe. Yes, you are the light to his darkness, the sun after rain. What would he do without you? Where would he be without you by his side? Through all these hellish weeks you stood with him, making sure he’s feeling well. Will he ever be able to thank you enough for that? Never.

“I love you more than words can say”, he breathes against your outer ear.

“God, how much I love you, (y/n)…”

“Please believe me when I say that I love you just the way you are, Kento. You will always be enough for me. A few scars won’t change that.”

His eyes lock with yours and there is no doubt that you are telling the truth. Yes, you really do love him the way he is. Even if his skin is scarred through the hands of fire, even if he’ll never look like the man you’ve met first. In the glimmer of your eyes he will always be Kento Nanami.

“So you’ll stay with me even though I look like this?”

You wrap your arms around him again, your head laying against his scarred chest. Oh, how much you missed the feeling of being skin to skin with him, how much your hungry gaze longed for him all bare.

“I’d say I even love you a little more since Shibuya”, you reply.

Gently, you cup his face with your hands. Yes, a few scars here and there won’t change the beauty you see within the man in front of you.

“You are my everything, (y/n).”

His lips brush against yours, arms caging you against his body.

God, how much you love that man. More than the entire earth.

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taetr4ck · 2 months

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Can i request a drabble about how skz will treat you like a princess as their s/o?

Also, can i be "💌" anon?

and all these little things —

he who loves, dances upon the tapestry of stars.

skz!hyung line x reader, 1.1k words overall, brief mention of struggling with food (nothing descriptive) — fluff, comfort, a sprinkle of angst. maknae line here

a/n : hi of course my love !!! the moment i received this ask i never opened my laptop this fast LMFAOOOOOOOOO and yes of course, you can be 💌 anon! welcome to my blog, and i hope you enjoy this request !! ily <3 and pardon me for breaking this into two parts ,, i’ve been itching to post this 😭 my attention span is actually comparable to a goldfish 😞 but the maknae line is almost finished! just need to sprinkle some spice here and there

bang chan who acknowledges your inner child —

A promise — a promise Chan swore to himself that he would love every inch and aspect of you, including your inner child that was once abandoned and neglected. He never failed to make you feel loved, a love one can’t find anywhere else – a love that was made for you. He’s lovely, he’s lovely. His affection makes your whole being buttery, smoothly melting in his touch. His love is different from anyone else’s – it’s as if your heart bloomed with flowers that smell like him, and the surroundings suddenly light up when he enters the room.

He never neglected you. Not even once. His gaze is always fixated on you every time you talk – your voice is a sweet melody to him as if every word you say is coated with honey.

Tap, tap, tap. The gentle taps of his finger on your skin when you feel like the world is deceiving you give you a sense of comfort – accompanied by an arm wrapping around your defeated, exhausted body, keeping you safe and understood. The familiar gesture and warmth seeping into your skin keep you grounded amidst your sobs, those sobs that never fail to make his heart shatter every time you surrender your tired soul to him. He whispers sweet mumbles in your ear, as if his only goal is to protect you. He is love, he is solace itself.

He is the aurora that loves in what in you is unfinished, the aurora that embraces the little child in the shackles of your healing heart. The world may be against you, but you’ll be fine. You’ll be fine; he’s always here.

lee know who cooks a hearty meal for you —

There was never a day when Minho didn’t cook for you. The living space is always surrounded by the aroma of his cooking – making your stomach growl with anticipation. He smiles as he hands you a bowl full of your favorite food, looking at you with stars in his eyes. The simple gesture is enough to make your heart flutter, tugging at every string. Eating the meal together that he wholeheartedly made is enough for him to die a happy man – for him, it’s more than enough. Sharing a meal together is a love language, his love language.

When he’s away, he sends you recipes for you to make on your own. It reminds you of the times he always cooked for you – your arms wrapped around his waist, leaning on the circle of his back. His warmth may be absent at the moment, but his love and familiarity still permeate through the quiet shared space. You will see him soon, just wait a little longer.

In times when eating isn’t an option, silently working at the desk in your shared bedroom, Minho is always here to remind you to eat. He knows the feeling of working on an empty stomach, and he doesn’t want you to experience the same agony. From hourly fruit snacks to full meals delivered right to your table, he never fails to make you feel as if you deserve to be cared for. You deserve to be cared for. It’s as if he’s an angel in disguise, destined only for you to pamper and nurture. In times when you can’t take care of yourself, he does it for you. He plays the role he chose, to cherish and love you as a whole.

changbin who never lets you lift a hand —

The living embodiment of chivalry, as they always say about him. Changbin never lets you lift a hand – not even a finger. The door of his car, the door of your favorite restaurant, the bags of groceries with a cute backstory – Changbin giggles and smiles at you every time you pick something from the grocery shelf, red hearts evident in both of his eyes, showing how lovestruck he is – completely captivated by you.

Changbin goes to the extent of even carrying your things – your pretty handbag, your school or work backpack – he doesn’t want you to strain even a fiber of your muscle. Heck, he’d even carry you if he wanted to. Whatever it is, he got you.

He loves to serve you, and he's sworn to be devoted to you. Love always has a center, and it’s you who centers his heart and his whole being. You’re his princess, and he is the knight. The knight who’s willing to do anything, ready to carry it all – he’s willing to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders if that's what it takes to be with you. He doesn’t want anything in return; he just wants you to stay by his side and let him take care of the rest. He adores you more than you'll ever know, and he surely knows he was made for you.

hyunjin who notices every detail —

He who notices everything — your hair, your perfume, the shade of your new lipstick – everything. Nothing can escape Hyunjin’s loving gaze, as if his eyes were made to look at you – to worship every inch of your skin, to tell you you’re beautiful, beautiful that he can ever endure. He looks at you as if you were the only thing that matters to him. You’re beautiful. He looks at you like you are more than the pain you’ve ever endured. You don’t understand why, but he never fails to make you feel things – tugging heartstrings every time he utters his worship, your skin heating to the feel of his feathery touch – his touch that feels like home, his kisses that feel like a sanctuary.

“You’re so beautiful,” those are exactly the words he always says. Every time you wake up, gaze still unsteady; every time you two go out for a date, every time you’re stressed – hair disheveled, dark circles evident under your eyes. And even when you’re in slumber – whispering his never-ending devotion beside your sleeping figure, full of content and peace. His tone is full of sincerity, making your heart flutter with tenderness and adoration. His love makes you overwhelmed, but that’s only because his love is always honest.

Hyunjin spent most of his life running away from love until you gave him the courage to try. It’s like you’re the rose that suddenly bloomed in a garden full of camellias. After a long time of suffering from longing and madness, love was finally bestowed upon him. The first bite of your pure and genuine love seemed to have taken him aback; each bite overwhelming to the core. Your sudden entrance into his life silenced the monsters in his mind – ceasing every inch of darkness surrounding within. He didn’t prepare, he was never prepared. You’re his light, providing love and sunshine with no end. He’s a hopeless romantic, after all. Except that it’s not hopeless anymore.

taglist: @agi-ppangx @skzstarnet / taglist form

⋆ taetr4ck, est may 2023. / requests open

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monster-slxt · 3 months

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What if you found a young creature and raised it to adulthood, but you did too good a job and now it views you as the perfect mate?

Hope you don't mind me changing the prompt just a bit- what if instead of raising it I nursed it back to health?

Finding some huge monster trapped in a hunters snare. The poor thing is too out of it to react to me freeing it, just a low rumbling growl as I carefully cut it free. It's far too big for me to move, but I want so desperately to help the poor thing that I run all the way back to my little cabin and grab all the first aid stuff I can find, plus some raw meat I was saving.

Slowly but surely I patch it up, careful hands so small compared to the beast. It seems to realize that I'm trying to help it, and does it's best to cooperate. It follows me back to my cabin, and I know it's probably not a good thing that such a dangerous monster knows where I live now, I can't help but feel relieved that I'll be able to keep an eye on its healing wounds now.

...the relief fades slightly when it starts.... courting... me? It purrs, a deep resonate sound that buzzed in my chest whenever I come near, always letting me pet it's thick fur. Often now it's huge muzzle nuzzles into my neck, and I've been finding... gifts... left on my doorstep. Carcasses. I can only assume it's trying to prove itself a worthy mate.

It all comes to ahead about a month after the beast was fully healed. It just refused to leave, constantly by my side. How was I supposed to know it chose me as it's mate before the thing was ripping off my clothes and brutally fucking me? It's huge cock splitting my tiny human body open.

It fucks me like that for hours, pumping me full of it's thick cum. I don't know how long I last in the face of the brutal pace, but I eventually pass out and wake up to find the monster has dragged me back to its den where it can keep me as it's mate and make babies 🥰

#asks #monsterfucking #monster smut #dubcon

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freebreadmoon · 3 months

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Percy Jackson

The Monster’s Gone

warnings: little violence? fluff, percy being bf material, no use of y/n, implied female child of athena reader, based heavily off the plot of CotG

requests are open!!

Percy hated quests.

Percy hated it even more when you were involved.

You’d been walking around mindlessly the whole day, through Times Square to the Flatiron District, having no idea where Iris, the rainbow goddess, could be.

“Why would a god willing even live here? The city is a hell in itself, but tourist areas?” Percy sighed, dodging a passing man while simultaneously trying to keep you in eyeshot, which proved to be very hard. Looking around the area, his sea-green eyes landed on a small Gift Loft shop. He grabbed your hand and pulled you in, holding your shoulders to steady you.

“What?” You furrowed your eyebrows at him, surprised at his sudden choice to make a detour. “Quieter. Too many people in the streets,” he ran a hand through his hair, pausing, “and easier to focus on…crafting a plan, or whatever that brain of yours does.” He smiled, letting go of you and settling on crossing his arms. “Plan. Right. Except you literally have no information for me to ‘craft’ anything out of.” You mimicked his movements, tilting your head as you look up at him. “I promise we won’t be in here longer than we need to, but it’s harder to…” Percy’s rambling was cut off by you putting your hand of his mouth, staring behind him at the old woman that seemed to stare right back. He stared at you, waiting for you to clarify what was wrong. “Dracaena, I think. Can’t see her fully through the mist.” You breathed, reaching instinctively for your weapon, separating yourself from Percy. He did the same, uncapping Riptide. “never a dull moment…” He muttered, putting himself in front of you. The Dracaena approached, the mist pulling away to show her slithering body. “Perseus Jackson, what a fun surprise this is.” She looked at you, lizard-like eyes narrowing “And an appetizer. How thoughtful.” She lunged, and Percy dodged, trying to pull you with him as she clawed a shallow cut into the skin of your stomach, earning a yelp from you as the pain set in. Percy immediately noticed, clenching his teeth. He ripped a ‘I Love NY’ shirt off a rack, tying it to you like a makeshift bandage. “Sit tight. Gotta go kill a monster for you.”

And the way he looked at you, love filled and kind, contrasted to the way he looked at the Dracaena, he could’ve been two different people. He swung effortlessly at her, and you watched with wide eyes as she erupted into gold dust, as if it were the first time you saw him all over again. He rushed over to you, smiling apologetically and pushing a small bottle of ambrosia into your hands. “M’sorry.” He sits back on his knees, watching you heal. “Not your fault, Perce.” You wrapped your pinky around his, squeezing subtly, smiling when he returns the movement. “A little my fault.” He laughed, helping you up, letting you lean against him, smoothing your hair through his fingers. “I hate seeing you hurt.” Percy looked away, his attention turned back to the sidewalk as you two returned to the sidewalk, no plan crafted.

“I love you too, Percy.” You said, kissing his cheek, watching the smile and blush creep up his face. “Enough to stop getting hurt?” He raised an eyebrow sarcastically. “Oh, never that.” You nudged him, grinning back.

Percy hated going on quests, yes.

Percy hated it even more when you were involved.

But oh, was he head over heels.

#x reader #annabeth chase #grover underwood #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #connor stoll #rick riordan

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lotusmi · 1 year

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healing your journey in 23 steps

⭒ Edward Art series in a nutshell! 💌 As you probably know, I summarized all 23 posts from Edward Art series! You can read all those posts fully here. This post is the collection of my fav quotes from every single part! » Edward teaches the law based in Neville books and lectures. His posts made my journey lighter and more simple, so I hope you can feel lighter reading it too! I really recommend you to read it :) If those quotes don't align with your personal beliefs, just ignore it ♡

💬 may u have a lovely read... ♡

1: No one or nothing to change but Self

Remove having to get things. Remove stress. Simply imagine what you want with the feeling of actual freedom to do so.

fulfill it mentally (your desire). Remove rules. Remove consequences. Remove the outer-world when you imagine. Remove all ideas of what you "should do" or "have to do." Do what you want (within).

do not care about how it will happen or when, or even if it is possible.

★ Do not stress yourself trying to change the mirror, but focus on changing self. Go within and fulfill your desires in imagination.

2: Let go of control, and control Self

There is no objective reality.

"Never blame, only resolve." - Neville

let go to the HOW. let go of controlling your outer-world and control yourself. The world is reflecting self. And "Self" is everything you think you HAVE and ARE.

do anything you wish in your mind. You are so powerful in your mind that NOBODY can imprison you. It is entirely up to you, to be what you desire to be in your mind.

3: He who will not live by love must be subdued by fear

You can remove ALL your fears if you do what you want in your mind.

the goal is to NOT change each and every fearful thought. It is not to argue and contemplate on the fear.

NEVER BLAME YOURSELF FOR FEARFUL THOUGHTS. Never blame, only resolve them within. You have the power to resolve to what you want. Don't waste that power on blaming yourself.

you are ALWAYS GREATER than what you are creating in your mind.

We are NOT trying to manipulate reality or force some change upon this physical world. That will happen NATURALLY. Why? Because your world is REFLECTING SELF.

CHANGE SELF BY DOING AND HAVING WHAT YOU WANT IN YOUR MIND.

Do you not realize you only get what you want when you give it to yourself?

4: Inner self must be exalted

It comes down to who you think you are. Who you are identifying yourself with. In order to feel completely free, you must identify yourself with the one within you.

When Neville says "Leave the world just as it is and change self. No one to change but self," he means the self that is within, the only self there is. Why leave the world alone? Because it is only an expression of "SELF!" Why does he say to change that and that alone? Because "SELF MUST BE EXPRESSED," that is the Law. You don't have to doubt "is my imaginal act going to come to pass?" Who is doubting? "SELF!" Who is worrying? "SELF!" What gets expressed? "SELF!" YOU CAN ALWAYS TRUST THAT SELF WILL BE EXPRESSED!

Discard the outer-world and that includes your identification with this body. This is ALL an EXPRESSION OF THAT "SELF."

identify yourself from within and you will grant your every wish from within.

since you identify yourself with outer-world and outer-self instead of your True Self and inner-world where everything is possible, you remain stuck.

identify yourself, not with this world, but with the one within, the one who is truly desiring.

5: Imagining is FUN

Thoughts come FROM your FEELING.

thought HAS NO POWER OF ITS OWN. That means the thought HAS NO TRUTH IN ITSELF.

YOU DON'T HAVE TO WORRY IF YOU ARE HAVING THE "RIGHT" THOUGHTS OR IF YOU SAYING THE "RIGHT" THINGS IN YOUR MIND. NO MORE TRYING TO THINK PERFECTLY.

You create the feeling you want and from that thoughts come. That is a STATE [!!!]. Remove this idea that beliefs are hard to change and they are blockages in your subconscious.

bring yourself back to the Creator. Stop identifying yourself with the thoughts and understand they are coming FROM the FEELING.

FEEL what you have ALWAYS WANTED to feel, you will NATURALLY THINK-FROM that position. THAT IS A STATE. THAT IS LIVING IN THE END.

FREE YOURSELF IN YOUR MIND ENTIRELY. Stop caring if it will happen or what will happen, REALITY IS YOUR MIND. IT REFLECTS "SELF."

6: Honey

REMOVE ALL RULES!

"Should I? I Must! I Have To!"

These are rules we create in the Mind. Why do we do it? We do for the simple reason that we are trying to control the world. With our physical actions we are trying to control it.

(People who create rules) think the world is outside of them so they create all these rules to control it.

Start with the feeling that, "I can have and feel whatever I want in my mind."

★ free yourself of the rules you (or others) created. Free yourself in your mind. Fulfill your desires within as you want to.

7: I Am not going to tell you "You are Crazy"

we should do everything we want in our minds with no fear. Doing what we want, which is so simple, frees us.

The moment I have any desire in me, I fulfill it. I don't care what it is, how "big" or "small"! I DO NOT CONDITION IT OR WONDER IF IS POSSIBLE ANYMORE OR "GOING TO WORK".

If you really see your mind as the reality, and you fulfill your desires within, you will see how stupid it all is.

the greatest Self-Concepts, the greatest Feelings, the greatest Thoughts are the ones you WANT to have.

start with changing self radically. See yourself entirely different by feeling what you want to be.

When the feeling or desire comes upon you, THAT is the time to ACCEPT IN FULLNESS! Do not wait, do not put it off. Accept in fullness. That is truly what you want to do!

8: Feeling & SELF

Studying [the law] is one thing, actually accepting it another.

EVERYTHING is an assumption. All those thoughts you are thinking are assumptions, and THE MIND DOES NOT CARE WHAT YOU THINK.

how does one feel? The word is ACCEPTANCE. ACCEPT (your desire) ANYWAYS, ENTIRELY ACCEPT IT IN THE MIND!

Create this wonderful habit of accepting every wonderful desire that comes to you. Then you will become normal.

I thought we were suppose to manipulate and control the world. I thought we were suppose to imagine a scene and repeat over and over until it happened. I was wrong. "NO ONE OR NOTHING TO CHANGE BUT SELF!"

when you are panicking about so-so or what might happen or this or that, remember ONLY CHANGE SELF! There is nothing else to change, or nobody else you must change!

SELF is the way to control and manipulate the world. SELF is who you think you are and what you think you have WITHIN! This is a feeling.

9: If I Am then I will Be

"Nothing to change but SELF", "Feeling is the secret." Well, if there is nothing to change but self, how is feeling the secret? In order to change self, it changes through FEELING. This is so important because so many times, I have and others repeated countless affirmations to see little if any results. We repeat it 1000 times, hope it "sticks in the subconscious." Then we hear about feeling so we force feeling into it, and it changes us for a bit but then it becomes exhausting. It becomes exhausting because we feel that we HAVE TO feel this specific feeling or else.

There is no HAVE TO, but WANT TO. FEEL what you WANT to Feel. You discover what you want to feel by asking SELF inside. FEEL that. It does not matter what it is, just something you have always wanted to feel. This is what changes us.

Forcing affirmations, forcing feelings is not what you want. If you just changed the intention to feeling it because you want to feel it, because you want to fulfill all your desires within yourself with feeling, then you would be far happier.

SELF cannot fail at expressing. And SELF is ALL that you FEEL to BE and HAVE in your MIND! Allow yourself the freedom of FEELING what you want with no worry.

So SELF or yourself cannot fail you. You always express what you FEEL to be and FEEL to have. There is NO OTHER CREATOR IN YOUR MIND. None. You are doing it ALL in your mind. You give or you take. There is no other God in the Mind but you.

We are what we feel to be and have in Imagination and this dream world shapes to US.

10: Fearful Of Magnificence?

We should go beyond just granting wishes and start seeing ourselves highly in our minds.

You learn to stop fearing the wonderful feelings by seeing it is YOU who is holding yourself back.

Once you break through your own fear of wonderful feelings, you will see it was you all along. All fear are mental imaginings that you are creating within yourself. Knowing, you bring the power of CREATION BACK TO YOURSELF.

11: Self Identification

How can I BE what I want?

It lies in your IDENTIFICATION OF SELF. Do not be afraid but IDENTIFY yourself FULLY with the INNER MAN. The immortal you. The one that can do ANYTHING it wants. The one who owns the world and all that is in it. If you identify yourself with the inner man, you will be free.

The outer man see's nothing but limitations. He lives in desire. Too many of us have identified ourselves with what the outer-man HAS and IS, not seeing it is a reflection of the INNER MAN.

See what you HAVE and what you claiming yourself to BE WITHIN. THAT is what is reflected always.

You do not have to persuade others to help you [!!!]; all you need do is believe you are what you want to be and then let the world (which is nothing more than yourself pushed out) go to work to make your assumption possible. - Neville

How can you "believe you are what you want to be" when you the world is showing you otherwise? Again it comes down to "SELF" IDENTIFICATION. Conceptions of ourselves are what WE FEEL OURSELVES, OUR INNER MAN TO BE. The Inner Man has all the freedom to see and feel what it wants to be.

To the Inner Man EVERYTHING ALREADY IS TRUE, not to the outer. IT ALREADY IS SO, to the Inner Man. There is no convincing necessary, no 1,000 affirmations, no repeating over and over hoping it works, IF YOU IDENTIFY YOURSELF WITH THE INNER MAN.

You did not imagine "How" to get there, you are already there in imagination. Your issue is NOT in imagining the end, your issue lies in who you are identifying yourself with. If you imagine yourself in the end, which is easy, but then you identify yourself with the outer-man, you will breed nothing but frustrations.

"Disregard appearances, conditions, in fact all evidence of your senses that deny the fulfillment of your desire. Rest in the assumption that you are already what you want to be" - Neville

Leave the world as it is, with all of its denials and change yourself within and see how it is yourself pushed out.

So discard all beliefs of what you think you are, or what you have been called etc, and Identify yourself with the One Within and you will be free.

12: Personal Reality

stop thinking about the outer-world. You get rid of this 3D reality. You then FEEL that your inner world is YOUR reality. Your own PERSONAL reality, where you can do, have, and be what you want.

We are not trying to "make something happen" or "hope it manifests," rid yourself of these feelings. They will do nothing but block the wonderful feelings and experiences you want to have within. This is your own personal reality.

Once you create this personal reality where everything seems to go lovely, you will see that there is no one to blame for what you were previously imagining. Taking all responsibility for what happens WITHIN us, we can then use that power to change what we want WITHIN us.

13: No Permission Needed

Remember the outer-world is a reflection of what the INNER MAN has, is and does in their own Personal Inner Reality. That is you.

if we wish to have radical change, let's radically change the INNER MAN. Give the INNER MAN what they want. That is, radically change your own Personal Inner Reality.

"DARE to assume" DARE to FEEL (accept) what you want. Without doing that, you remain as you are.

THE INNER MAN NEEDS NO PERMISSION! THE INNER MAN DOES NOT CARE WHETHER OR NOT IT IS POSSIBLE! So in your Personal Reality, your Mind, understand you need no permission to FEEL what you want to feel. No permission whether not it is "possible". Identify yourself with the INNER MAN who is FREE to do, feel and be what they want!

Your Personal Inner Reality is not bound by the facts of this life. In the Reality Within, you can go back in memory and change what you want. It is YOURS to change!

Daily FEEL what you want to feel and experience what you want in Imagination which is your true SELF, the SELF that is reflected in front of you.

14: The God Of The World Of Imagination!

There is this world, the World of the Senses, and there is another world, the World of Imagination. There is a Man who experiences the World of the Senses, which we call the Outer-Man. Then there is another Man who experiences the World of Imagination. We call that Man the INNER MAN.

The Outer-Man sees the limitations and restrictions in the World of the Senses. The Outer-Man feels he is limited and confined to the ‘facts’ of life. The Outer-Man goes through life fully convinced that this World of the Senses is happening to him not from him. He uses only his five senses to move in this World. So naturally he feels like a victim and desires to control this world through the means of force, manipulation etc. The Outer-Man feels fear that life can throw at him things that he is not prepared for. Situations he does not want to encounter but since he feels powerless, he fears the future. Since he cannot change the past, he guilt himself over it. This is how he is limited.

Then there is the Inner-Man who lives in the World of Imagination. In this World, he is unlimited and can create what he wishes. He is free beyond measure and everything that he can be conceive of is his. Everything. Not one thing is not his because he is the Creator of it!

THERE IS NO OBJECTIVE OUTER-MAN. The Outer-Man is simply an expression of the Inner Man. The only Man that exists is the Inner Man. There is NO OBJECTIVE WORLD OF THE SENSES. The World of the Senses, is but the expression of the World of Imagination.

The Inner Man can convince himself that he is this Outer-Body living in this dangerous world but he is still the Inner Man fooling himself into that!

PART 15: Awakening

What the Inner Man FEELS himself to BE and FEELS himself to HAVE in the World of Imagination is what will be EXPRESSED in this World of the Senses.

you are an INNER individual living in the World Of Imagination. In this World, you are God. You can imagine anything. All things are possible here in this world, INCLUDING the FULFILLMENT of your desire. You can change SELF to what you want. And SELF is what you THINK you HAVE and what you THINK you ARE in this World of Imagination. Read that sentence again. And SELF, THAT SELF, is what is EXPRESSED.

As you read this, you are living in this 3D world. You own things within it, you HAVE things. Based on what you HAVE in this 3D world, you create identities for yourself. Remember, we CLAIM we ARE things BASED on what we THINK WE "HAVE."

stop identifying yourself with this 3D world, which is simply an expression of INNER SELF, if you stop identifying yourself with what this 3D person "HAS," and start identifying yourself with the INNER MAN, you will see the freedom.

in this 3D world, we give ourselves identities based on what we THINK (FEEL) we HAVE. So if we can identify ourselves with the INNER MAN, and in that world we HAVE the things we want, we can then give ourselves a new identity.

stop thinking you are "only imagining" this. I want you to stop thinking what you are seeing in your mind is "fake." I want you to stop reacting to what you do not want to react to you. I want you to stop FEELING limited by this World of the Senses. I want you to stop worrying about HOW or WHEN it is going to happen and instead FEEL secure KNOWING this 3D world reflects what your INNER SELF HAS AND IS WITHIN. I want you to FEEL you are limitless within because you are! You do not have to bow down to this world and accept what you THINK it says about you. I want you to FEEL yourself to be the creator of everything within you.

Can you accept that you HAVE what you want because you see yourself (INNER SELF) with it, and everything in this World of Imagination is yours and is real?

PART 16: "What Else?"

How I enter into a New State of Consciousness? Death. Death is the only way. How does one die to a State of Consciousness? By surrendering to the New State. You cannot enter into a New State taking with you all the limitations, questions, and worries of the Old State. The Inner Self must be exalted but it cannot be exalted by holding 2 contradictory States.

When you imagine having exactly what you want in your mind, you do not question anything, you do not worry, you do not wonder "what if," you do not entertain the Old State and its limitations for one second. You die to it entirely.

You cannot bring your current limitations, worries, questions and FEELINGS with you to your New State.

The States or Concepts you hold in the Imagination are nothing but things you "hold." That is it. You think because the concept you are holding is reflecting in your world somehow makes it more "real?" I assure you it is not. It does not really matter if it is being reflected.

PART 17: Dream The Dream

remove the outer-world and remove the idea of "trying to manifest" and simply have the attitude of changing your INNER WORLD to your liking. Here is nothing to do, nothing to force on the outside. You change it, you mold it, you feel it and you do it all within you. You create a new dream, a perfect dream within you.

To "try to manifest," is a feeling. "Trying to get, trying to resolve, trying to make something happen," are FEELINGS you take with you before you imagine. These feelings are what disrupt you from actually FEELING what you want to feel. Instead FEEL that you are solely going to re-imagine, or re-dream a new dream WITHIN YOU and you will change you FEELING how you feel within. These changes is what expresses itself in the world. So if you wish to change the outer-world, leave it alone. Leave it alone and go within and change THAT WORLD, the world WITHIN. Change who you are THERE, change what you have THERE, change how you are treated THERE. Dream up a new World Within!

PART 18: Expansion

what you are seeing in your mind is not fake. And not only is it NOT fake, you can shape it PRECISELY how you want to shape it.

In order to actually lose yourself in the imaginal act, one must accept it is real and let go entirely of the outer-world. One must suspend rational thinking, and just accept it is real.

In order to access this feeling you must not be afraid to assume it is Real. If you are not FEELING it then that means you are still bound by your senses and this outer-world. You need to allow yourself the Freedom to Expand BEYOND the rational mind that is keeping you from experiencing your Wish being granted. You cannot be afraid anymore to feel and imagine what you want.

PART 19: Boldness

Your Mind is your own Personal Reality and you have the power to shape it PRECISELY, and FEEL what you want in it!

This is about giving the Inner Self what you want.

PART 20: Receptivity

Now we come to Denying. That is to say that we must truly let go of what the Outer World is showing us. True Denial is not looking at your World and merely repeating, "It does not exist," but is actually ACCEPTING the new reality within you. You do not deny being unwanted, by stating your are not unwanted. You deny unwantedness with the ACCEPTANCE of being wanted. It is our ACCEPTANCE of our Imagination which is our DENIAL of the senses. So Denying is not something you do, it is the implication of your ACCEPTANCE of the Imaginal Scene.

To stress yourself on whether you are "denying" the evidence of your senses enough is an unnecessary stressor. You do not fight against your senses for they only reflect you. Because "True Denial" as Neville says is "total indifference." But to be totally indifferent about your senses, you must ACCEPT your Imagination as the Reality. To become "indifferent" is an emerging consequence of accepting Imagination as the One and Only Reality.

You cannot wait for the world to change to what you want. You must change what you are and have in Imagination. If you are tired of what your world is reflecting, you can be confident it will keep reflecting that until you change YOU inside your Consciousness. This calls for radically giving yourself what you desire IN Consciousness.

PART 21: Irrationality

Chances are you truly are NOT giving yourself what you want because you feel some impossibly in it. Forget that. All things are possible in the Imagination. Do it anyway. Just do it. Do what? What you deeply want. Do you for only you, you Inner Self.

PART 22: The Dreamer

Never seeing he is the Creator, the Cause he always fails. The idea that he does not have to do anything, he does not have to work his way out - this idea is lunacy to the Outer-Man. He thinks, "No, there must be a way that I just have not figured out yet." So he goes on seeking outside of himself, yet he himself is a desiring self, and only seeing his reflection, he only see's his desires. Never obtaining them, always seeking them, frustrations, rage, jealousy all stir up within him. Hating his world, hating what he see's, hating his own reflection he wants to destroy it. He cannot win because he lives in a position of fear and failure, and what is within will be without because Man can only give what is within himself.

If only he were to stop hating his reflection, and saw that the mirror only reflects what he is doing, he would be free. If only he were to see the mirror is stationary and does not judge but simply reflects. If only he were to see himself in the mirror and see he is the Creator, he would be free.

He does not have to cope with his limitations, he does not have to fight his way out. He will stop feeling after his fears and become indifferent about them for they are his Creation and has no power over him.

The Dreamer abandons limitations and turns towards his desires and gives it to himself fully. The Dreamer will always dream beyond what his limitations dictate.

PART 23: Unconditional Thinking

To truly grasp the freedom that is attainable within you, you must understand the concept of States. A State is a belief about the yourself or what you believe you will experience, an attitude towards life. There are infinite statues (states) that lie dormant within you. They do not disappear, for nothing can disappear in Imagination. The acceptance that you are the State now, is what brings life to these dormant statues.

If entering into a New State within you is challenging it is because you have not accepted who you are within. You are not a State, but is God. As God within, whose permission are you asking for? To whom do you answer to? If there is only One Being within you, then who can stop you?

If you wish to rise as something New in Imagination, you have to give up entirely your currently thoughts/feelings, questions, worries, what you think of the world, what you think is possible, if you think you are worthy or not, if you deserve the New State etc.

"Don't tell me anything!" That is the secret. Total self-abandonment to the current State is the way to bring life towards the New State.

You have to die to what you do not want to express entirely, a true act of surrender. You can do it.

leave the world alone and go within and die to what you want to stop expressing and allow yourself to be what you want. Imagination is the evidence you are seeking for it is the only reality.

Assume all works in your favor to express your States. This is how the Imagination works. Everything within you is yourself for the taking. Think unconditionally.

💬 may u had a lovely read... ♡ i see u next post!

#neville goddard #loa advice #loatumblr #loa blog #law of assumption #manifesting #living in the end #edward art #law of abundance #loa tumblr #void state #States #wish fulfillment #Dream life #I am #I am god #healing #motivation

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deadtired-highkeyenergetic · 1 month

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I Won't Lose You

I've been told by all my friends who have played bg3 that durge runs should not be the first run of the game but here I am, doing just that. In my defense, I want to go around as a fictional dragonborn trying to kill most things and save scumming on dialogue choices for approval ratings.

Summary: The dark urge takes over when Astarion gets injured in battle. In the aftermath, you flee, afraid of what the others think of you now but Astarion goes after you to bring you back to camp and reassure you that nothing has changed.

When the arrow pierces through his shoulder, all you can see is red. Blood roars in your ears, a scream tears itself from your throat and you change. You become a different person, your legs move of their own accord, the dagger in your hand twirls and you stab downwards. Over and over again you stab, blood splattering all over you but you don’t care. You’re not thinking, everything is a blur except the one word that rings in your head.

Kill.

And so you kill, your dagger tearing into flesh and drawing blood with each sickening squelch. The metallic taste floods your tongue and you grin. You feel alive, powerful, invincible. No one can stop you, no one can take anything away from you ever again. Laughter bubbles within your chest, bursting forth as you stand there, head thrown back. Blood drips from your clothes onto the floor but you barely notice it. Euphoria thrums through your veins, you’ve killed the being who tried to take the only thing you have left from you. It feels wonderful.

You feel as though a weight has been lifted from your shoulders and raise your arms towards the sky, laughing all the while.

“Try it! Try and take him away from me!” You yell. “I’ll kill you all!”

Adrenaline rushes through your veins as the goblins flee in terror from the figure covered in blood. Your legs begin to move, feet pushing off the floor as you hunt them down, a wild gleeful look in your eyes. Your dagger slices through their skin, ripping open arteries, tearing off limbs and you only laugh harder at their screams of pain.

You slam your dagger into the neck of the goblin leader, crouching on its back as the body falls to the floor with a loud thud.

“No one can take him away from me,” you growl. “Not even the gods.”

You look up to see your companions’ various reactions, but the only one you really care about is Astarion’s. As you take a step towards him, reaching out with a bloody hand, he takes a step back, ruby eyes wide with horror. For a moment, all he can see is Cazador, drenched in blood with a grin so wide it stretches his face, and then he blinks and you’re standing in front of him, a look of hurt in your eyes.

Before your name can fall from his lips, you’re gone, running into the nearby forest. Everyone turns to look at him, the same question in their minds: what did he do?

Back in camp, Astarion tries to ignore the gnawing feeling in his chest as Shadowheart heals his injury. He can’t shake the look you gave him before running away, the fear that filled your gaze. He recognised the look, after all, it was the same as the one he wore as Cazador’s spawn – the look of despair.

“I’m going out for a walk,” he says and leaves the camp before anyone can say anything. In all honesty, he has no idea how to find you, all he knows is that he has to. He can’t leave you alone to fend for yourself, especially not in that condition of yours. Letting out a sigh, he makes his way back to the battle site. He can try starting from there, track the scent of your blood and hopefully find you before anything else does.

When he reaches the site, he notices a lone figure sitting by the bloodstained rubble, their knees hugged against their chest.

“Y/N,” he calls out. You look up, and then quickly look back down, curled even more into yourself. Astarion feels his undead heart ache at the sight of your current state. You’ve always been the life of the party – cheerful, upbeat, optimistic. He’s the one who is broody, sitting in the corner and staring at everyone else and yet here you are, sitting all alone in the cold night with no fire to keep you warm.

“May I inquire as to why you have stolen my role as the broody rogue?” He seats himself next to you whilst maintaining some distance. You keep silent, staring into the distance.

“Come now, darling. Let’s head back to camp, the others miss you dearly, not as much as they miss me of course but –”

“Leave.” Your voice wavers. When he doesn’t move, you repeat your words a little louder. “I said leave.”

“But why, darling? You’re clearly cold and hungry, the camp has both fire and food. Don’t tell me you plan on freezing to death while starving? It’s not a very comfortable way to go,” he tuts. “You should choose a better way of dying.”

“I deserve it,” you mutter. “After what I did.”

“After what you did? You killed the goblins and protected the weak, I don’t believe any of that is deserving of such a slow death.” Astarion attempts to lighten the mood but your face remains sullen.

“You know what I’m talking about. I saw it, the way you looked at me. You don’t want me anymore, you shouldn’t. I’m a monster.” Your voice cracks, tears sliding down your cheeks.

“That’s not the worst thing I’ve seen,” his voice drops to a whisper. “And my feelings for you haven’t changed in the slightest. I still want whatever it is that we have, this weird relationship of ours. Nothing will ever change my mind about it. Your appearance simply…reminded me of something I’d rather forget in that moment, but the situations couldn’t be more vastly different.”

Astarion reaches out with a hand, simply holding an upturned palm towards you. A simple gesture, but one filled with so much meaning between the two of you. You stare at it, a hand slowly reaching out before pulling back again when you see how bloodstained your hand is.

Seeing as you are still in no mood to talk, he continues. “Whenever Cazador was covered in blood, it tended to be my blood. Usually it was after he had finished torturing me for whatever sick reason he had and he would smile at me, asking if I would be his good pet. You were covered in goblin blood, vowing to kill anyone even the gods if they tried to harm me. You were protecting me, not harming me, and I am forever grateful for that.”

Astarion takes your bloodstained hand and presses it against his cheek, leaning into the warm feeling, “I need you, Y/N.”

You feel a fresh wave of tears prick at the corners of your eyes, biting your bottom lip to stop the cascade. He shifts closer to you and leans in, ready to pull away should you flinch but you remain still, looking him in the eye and so he wraps himself around you, holding you tightly.

The dam bursts open and you weep, clutching at his tunic. Ugly tears dampen his sleeve, ruining his perfect appearance but Astarion doesn’t care. He’d do anything for you, just like how you’d do anything for him. The vampire spawn rests a reassuring hand on the back of your head while the other rubs circles on your back as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear. Right now, only you matter, and if you needed a shoulder to cry on, he would be that shoulder.

“I can’t lose you,” you sob through the tears. “I’ve lost everything else already, I can’t lose you too. WIthout you, I…I don’t know what to do. You’re the only one who keeps me going.”

Astarion presses his lips to your head, closing his eyes as he takes in your sweet scent, “I can’t lose you either, Y/N, and I promise, we will remain by each other’s side forever.”

His words make you cry harder and you bury yourself into his chest, crying until you have nothing left to give and lie there panting, cries reduced to sniffles. Astarion kisses away the tears that remain on your cheek, lips lingering longer than necessary with each kiss before pressing his forehead against yours.

“All these years, I’ve always wondered if anyone would ever care about me to the point where they would do anything to protect me, and now I’ve found my answer in you,” he murmurs. “I couldn’t be happier knowing that you would choose me over everything else.”

“I love you too,” you whisper back. “Thank you, for accepting me after seeing what I really am.”

“Any time, dearest.” He continues to cradle you in his arms, gently swaying from side to side. As your eyelids begin to flutter shut, he decides that tonight, it can’t just be you who is vulnerable. You trust him enough to drop your guard to this extent around him, he wants to repay the favour.

“I had a nightmare about you, just the other night.” He gently pushes your hair out of your face, tracing your jawline. He’s been wanting to keep this a secret, afraid of scaring you but since you had challenged the gods themselves, perhaps a vampire wasn’t that scary in comparison.

“Did I look hot in it?”

Astarion blinks in surprise. Maybe he was rubbing off on you too much. Amusement colours his face as he gives your cheek a poke and pouts. “First you steal my role as the broody rogue in the party and now you try to take my place as the residential flirt?”

“It’s all your fault,” you huff good naturedly, folding your arms across your chest. “You’ve been a terrible influence on me.”

He smiles softly, giving you a peck on the lips, “I suppose I have. Although I must say, you have a long way to go before you can ever reach my level.”

“I can’t possibly put you out of a job, can I? Whatever will I do to keep my vampire lover around then?”

“You simply need to exist, darling. That is all.”

Your gaze softens and you press your lips against his, kissing him deeply.

“Do you want to talk about your nightmare?” You ask once you reluctantly break away from the kiss to breathe. He nods, swallowing hard.

“Cazador had you. He threatened to kill you unless I returned to him, threatened to turn you into one of his spawn just like me and make you suffer for an eternity while I watched. You swore and cursed at me, saying all this was my fault, that it was all because of me that you were now on the cusp of being turned into a vampire spawn, and I –” His fingers tremble. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“Star –”

“I hesitated! I thought about putting myself before you, and I –”

“I want you to do that.”

His eyes widen, “darling, you can’t possibly –”

“Star, you’ve spent far too long putting everyone before yourself. You need to start putting yourself before others from time to time, to stand up for yourself. I want you to live your own life, not someone else’s. And if Cazador ever comes for us, well I won’t let him separate us. We’ll have each other’s backs as we always do, and he won’t stand a chance.”

You say it with such certainty that Astarion almost believes you, but a nagging voice in the back of his head reminds him of how strong Cazador is. Yet, looking deep into your eyes and seeing your resolve, a small part of him dares to hope again. Maybe, he really could stand up against his master with you by his side. Maybe one day, he really could be free, but for now, he’s more than content to simply hold you in his arms, feeling your warm embrace and his undead heart soaring.

#astarion bg3 #astarion x durge #astarion x reader #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 #astarion ancunin #astarion x you #astarion #astarion angst #astarion romance

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fueledbysano · 6 months

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WHY'D YOU LET ME LET YOU GO? Satoru G.

They say that time takes away the pain, but you're still the same. After the divorce with Satoru, you were summoned to Jujutsu High to help him with a case, but it soon becomes clear that the pain from the breakup is still very much alive. As the two of you work together, you can't help but wonder if time really does heal all wounds, or if some wounds are just too deep to ever truly heal.

♱ pairing: Satoru Gojo x afab!reader

♱ content: hurt-comfort/no comfort (that really depends on you ;)), angst, toxic relationship, MATURE. unprotected sex, baby trapping. jjk S1.

♱ a/n: ksugurwho, thank you for visiting my haunted mansion. take this jewelry box that you so courageously searched in my basement. until next time and have a twisted halloween. 🖤

♱ wc: 3k

5k event masterlist

You have mostly been keeping yourself busy since the divorce from Satoru, working hard as a sorcerer outside the school, determined to show your ex-husband that his opinion of you didn’t matter. You were in the middle of examining a curse under a private employer, when you unexpectedly received a message from the authorities of Jujutsu High.

Shoko said she “needs your second opinion”. This of course gave you a sense of pride, and the fact that she mentioned your ex referred you by name was a big deal. So as you entered the school to consult a case, you weren’t surprised to see Gojo waiting for you.

“Thank you for coming.” He calmly spoke and bowed alongside Shoko and Ijichi. You bow in response before listening to them go over the incident involving a student while walking towards the morgue. “The kid is only a first year student, [ Y / N ]. But this had never happened before… he’s a vessel.” Shoko explained.

“A vessel? Like… he turned into a curse?” You wondered.

“Sort of… he ate one of Sukuna’s fingers which gave him that ability.” She replied.

“The king of curses?!” You exclaimed, almost stopping your tracks.

Satoru found himself surprisingly drawn to your voice as you made your way through the hallways to the morgue. Even though your marriage had ended, he had missed your mere presence in his life, despite all of the pain and heartache you caused each other.

“Exactly. A unique case, right?” Shoko nodded as she led everyone into the morgue. You watch Shoko uncover the boy’s body, a huge tear in his chest that devoid him of color.

“What was his name?” Your voice is slightly muffled by a face mask as you put on a pair of gloves.

“Itadori Yuuji.” Satoru answered flatly while he sat in a corner with Ijichi.

“Your student?” You asked as politely as you can, out of respect for the kid.

“Did you even listen to a word Shoko said earlier?” He spoke as he sat on a manspread, avoiding your gaze.

“Tch…” You snarled softly, ready to bite back until Shoko stopped you with her arm. “Hey, hey, this isn’t going to be a problem, remember?” She softly reminded. You knew that you are way more professional than your ex, and you were determined to prove yourself not just because the Gojo Satoru had referred you, but because you knew that you are more than capable of handling the case with your ability.

You took a second to look at the kid, offering a moment of silence and wishing him peace— something that you always did before examining deceased sorcerers. Until you noticed the tear on his chest start to close up, as if it was healing itself. You were convinced that this kid was already dead, so you were too shocked to process what was happening, nor to tell anyone in the room.

“We are about to start, are you just gonna sit there and watch?” Shoko was looking at the two men talking as Yuuji casually got up like he was waking up from a nap, which left you more baffled.

Ijichi was terrified, but Satoru was smiling to himself, seeming relieved.

“I’m kinda disappointed, I was looking forward to working with [ Y / N ].” Shoko frowned.

“This is kinda embarrassing. Who are you?” Yuuji looked at you two.

“Yuuji. Welcome back.” Satoru enthusiastically walked up to him.

“Sup, good to be back!” You watched in a mix of emotions as the two hi-fived. The scene reminded you too much of a particular spiky-haired child you used to sort of mother a while back… While you were still newly dating, Satoru took Megumi and Tsumiki in after the death of their father and raised them as if they were his own, alongside you.

With a bittersweet smile, you couldn’t help but picture Megumi now. He must be around Yuji’s age, maybe even his classmate. After all, he was just only learning the basics of his cursed technique by the time you dropped the Gojo last name.

Satoru excused himself with Shoko while you were left to clothe Yuji and give him an examination. You picked up the pace, eager to see Megumi and Tsumiki again. Yuji thanked you with a kind smile for giving him a check-up, before turning to Ijichi.

Discarding your medical gear and coat, you hurried outside the morgue to catch up on Satoru and Shoko.

“Satoru…” you followed Gojo through the hallways, feeling a sense of longing for the children you looked after together. You love them like their own, and the fact that you hadn't been able to see them since the divorce was painful. Satoru didn't know, but you occasionally sent messages to Megumi when you could.

“I want to see the two.” Shoko tensed a little and diverted her attention to something else, distancing herself, knowing that this is something between you and Satoru.

“Hmm… I'm not sure.” Satoru hesitated, knowing full well that he was being petty by not just giving her a straight answer. He knew that he was hurting you by not letting you see the kids, but he couldn't help but feel some resentment towards you for the way you didn't check on them after your marriage, unbeknownst to him.

You were hurt by his response. You knew that both you and Satoru had both made mistakes in your marriage, but you couldn't help but feel like you had lost more than just your husband. You lost the home you made with him and the Fushiguro siblings, and the fact that you're not sure if you can see them was like a knife in your heart. But you refused to let it show. You knew that he was just doing it to rile you up, but you can play this game with him like you did for years.

“I have the right to see them too, Satoru. We took them in together.” It was a long shot, but reminding him of the past was a bad idea. “I told you, you're not their legal guardian.” He flatly spoke. “Because you never fuckin let me be!” Satoru remained silent.

He had always been protective of the two, and [ Y / N ]. He didn't push through with the legal matters of it, because if anything untimely and unfortunate happened, Satoru did not want her to make tough calls, or have the children orphaned once more if anything happens to her. It was something he believed was in his hands, something he had to do alone.

This issue of responsibility and trust was something that had driven you apart since during your marriage, and it was a source of ongoing tension until now.

Nonetheless, you felt the right to see Megumi and Tsumiki again.

“Fine. You can see them after I return Yuuji.” Satoru finally answered.

“Return Yuuji?” You ask, puzzled.

“He remains 'dead' while I train him before the exchange event.” He explained.

“Are you nuts?! You're gonna hide the kid away while his friends think he's dead then you bring him back like potluck?!”

“Exactly. Megumi is going to be shocked.” Satoru smirked.

You scoffed in disbelief, “He's Megumi's buddy?! You're gonna do that to him?!”

“You're overreacting! So what? As if you know what he is like now! Don't tell me how to parent him.” As they began to bicker, you and Satoru found yourselves slipping back into your old patterns. You continue to bicker and argue with him, just as you had in the past.

This gave Shoko time to light a cigarette and look over the balcony, finishing the stick while you continued to bicker nearby. She couldn't even make out what you are arguing about by this point.

“I mean, who even does that?! That's just so fucked up. What if I pull that shit on you with Suguru, huh?” You felt a sense of frustration building inside you, and the pettiness reaching a new level… you knew it was a moment of weakness, a low blow, and you knew it immediately after you said it.

But you just couldn't shake the feeling that you had been backed into a corner, and that Satoru was determined to be the one in control of the situation.

Shoko's expression grew as you mentioned Suguru's name, and she knew that you struck a nerve. As they stood there in awkward silence, Shoko got in between the two of you.

“That's enough.” Shoko stepped between you as she saw the anger in his eyes and knew that it was about to boil over. She could see that the two of you were being petty towards each other, and that it wasn't helping the situation

"Let's not let our emotions get the best of us," Shoko said, her voice firm but calm. “You two need to focus on the case at hand. You can discuss this later.” She pointed out.

As Satoru eagerly welcomed the students from Kyoto, Megumi and Nobara stood off to the side. They were both visibly shaken by Yuuji's sudden return, contrary to what their sensei expected. “You got something to say?” Nobara asks, still baffled.

“Everyone, come with me. We have a guest I’d like you to meet.” Satoru turned to his students with a smile.

He walked into the office with them, and Megumi in particular was surprised, not expecting to see you today. As he walked up to you, you got up and gave him a warm hug. You wished that you should have been there for them the way you wanted it to be,and you were just so lighthearted to see him again. Despite the tension, Megumi couldn't help but smile softly, accepting the gesture.

“[ Y / N ]-sama, when did you arrive?” He asked after bowing.

“I was actually here a couple of days ago to help with Yuji.” You explained.

“You didn’t tell...”

“Well, someone said keep it a secret.” You mumbled, fixing up Megumi’s uniform.

“I can hear you.” Satoru replied, and you rolled your eyes.

“You hear someone talking, Megumi?” You said and pulled him aside. “Come on, let’s get some drinks.”

While the seniors talked to each other, the students sat on a separate table having drinks. Nobara couldn't help but notice the tense atmosphere in the room, and she knew that there was a lot of tension between their sensei and the woman he introduced. “Is it just me but there’s a lot of tension between Gojo-sensei and [ Y / N ]-sama?”

“They used to be married.” Megumi casually spoke while drinking from his cup.

“What?!” Yuuji and Nobara exclaimed, bringing themselves closer to the boy. “So, she’s like, your step-mom?” Yuuji asks. “I don’t call her that.” Fushiguro visibly regrets revealing this information to the two too soon.

“They must’ve married young then.” Nobara wondered.

“That’s why they kept bickering at the morgue…” Yuuji recalled.

“Why did they break up?”

“Dunno. Can’t remember.” Megumi truthfully answered.

“Fushiguro shall have them back together again… this means one thing— parent trap!” Yuuji spoke dramatically.

“Right… If they reconcile, sensei is going to be in a good mood all the time.” Nobara agreed. Megumi had his face in his palms just by listening to the two’s bizarre ideas. “Here’s our plan...— they’re leaving.” He cut off Yuuji.

“What a shame.” Nobara shrugged and opened another can of cola.

Meanwhile, Satoru was already approaching you and asked if you could talk in his office, away from any prying ears.

“Why do you hate me so much?” Satoru dropped the question. Your eyes filled with pain as he asked you that. You had thought about this question so many times, and had always struggled to find the right words to answer it. You knew that you didn't hate him, you were just hurt and bitter, and you wished he had tried harder on being your husband while still serving the jujutsu world.

But she also knew that he had his own resentments, his own burden to carry, and she couldn't blame him for that. She just wished that he had been there for her in the way that she had always been there for him. And as they stood there, looking at each other, they both felt the weight of all that had happened between them.

“You hate me!” Satoru couldn't deny it, he had acted like he didn't need you in his life, but he realized that he did. You meant more to him than he let on, and he hated himself for making himself believe otherwise, leading him to be resentful towards you.

You only wanted to be there for Satoru when everything fell apart. When Suguru fell into the darkness, Shoko became distant, and he carried all collateral damage, you thought it could make you stronger. But it only drove you further apart. It is clear that it wasn't enough. Satoru was struggling to deal with his own pain, and it was spilling out into your relationship in the worst ways possible. You tried to be strong for him, to hold things together, but it was clear that it was only making things worse.

“It shouldn't be like this… Satoru. Everyone should be in there right now, poking fun at your students or something…” You pointed at the door.

“Everyone? You know who is "everyone" to me, [ Y / N ]?” Satoru asks, mirroring your words.

“Everyone is… my smartest and sweetest friend who I never see anymore, my best friend and other half who I should have given more time to, and my ex-wife who I probably should have ended up with and raised the kids with.” He painfully spoke, enumerating each of them. “There's so much going on in all of our lives right now… but all of us hanging out at Shoko's, being young and stupid… we weren't meant to do that forever.”

“I’m sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have come here to see you.” You shed a tear, turning to the door. But before you could make another move, Satoru pulled you into a hug, feeling the weight of all of his pain and everything he had been holding back since seeing you again. It was so heavy that you both fell on your knees, still holding each other and tears welling your eyes.

His firm grasp caught you off guard but you embraced it, not wanting to let go. You felt the weight of all that you had been through together, all over again, but you still did not want to let go. Like instinct, Satoru leaned in for a kiss, returning it with a passion that you didn't know was still there.

He was able to grab your thighs and lift you with ease. You kicked off your shoes and pulled off your coat, while your ex-husband opened his uniform, teasing you to his cut abs.

Satoru didn't take his eyes off of your full tits, the cleavage peeking from your low neckline, and your thighs firm in his palms. He's still in love with your body all these years, filling out all in the right places. His dick throbs just thinking about the new things he could do to you.

His eyes flicker down to yours. “Do you think about this? Having me fuck you again? No one else does it like I do.”

“All the time,” You admit, recalling all the lonely nights you missed his touch. Now you're experiencing it and it doesn't feel real at all. You feel like I've crossed another dimension, one where your body is actually worthy of having his against it once again.

He pulls himself away and lays you on your back with a grunt. You suck in a breath as he hovers over you and then hear his pants being discarded. placing his hand on your waist, he brings his face down next to yours and his hips suddenly thrust in a gradual rhythm, your walls accommodating his length in a reunion. It had been way too long…

“I never stopped thinking what it would feel like to grab your hips and fuck you like a doll.” He growls. He leans back and grips harder, his nails leaving marks. You feel them desperately dig into your flesh as he thrusts forward while I push you hips back to meet him. “Fuck, [ Y / N ]. Yes,” He groans. “You're gonna make me come hard in your pussy if you keep doing that."

Holy. Shit.

His voice is nothing but orgasmic. Deep, guttural, and fucking sexy. You keep doing your movements, arching your back back and meeting his thrust for thrust.

His groans got louder and you breathe raggedly as you clutch your hand to the edge, feeling him reach an area inside you that is triggering your body in ways you've never felt before.

“I feel you getting tighter, honey,” He whispered, addressing you by the pet name he called you when you were briefly married. “Can you feel my cock getting harder for you? Fuck, you're so damn wet.”

The guttural sound of his voice brings you to a dangerous high. You curse beneath your breath and then bite into your bottom lip, feeling that same feeling you had when his tongue played tricks with your pussy for the first time. You were building up second by second, on the verge of climax.

“What if you'd just give me a baby of our own…” You pant as he continues clutching your hip. His mouth falls to the bend of your neck, his lips caressing the sensitive skin there, and you can't take it. “Tempting.” He smirked and his hips stuttered, his tip releasing beads of precum.

“Please…Satoru…” It spills from your lips again and again as he meets you thrust for thrust, you let go, body vulnerable and sensitive to his touch.

He starts to pound after pound, skin clapping together as he lets out a deep, hoarse groan and his dick starts to throb inside your pussy.

You knew what was coming, and so with all your strength, you lifted your legs to his waist and locked himself inside of you.

“Shit… [ Y / N ]... Nng-need to pull out…” His voice was more desperate than you've ever heard it— raw and vulnerable, as if he's needed to cum like this in ages. You couldn't fight your smile when you saw that desperate look on his face and his dick throbbing.

You couldn't imagine how much cum he's spilled, but it seemed like he hadn't had a good fuck like this in a long time.

“Holy fuck…” He panted out with a smirk, slightly shaken by the possible parental consequences of what you just did, but also turned on by the fact that he was able to claim you again…

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo x reader smut #satoru x reader #satoru x reader smut #jjk smut #jjk imagines #satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo

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neonovember · 23 days

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OH MY GOD CARMYS GF (READER) GETTING HER FIRST TATTOO AND HIM COMFORTING HER AND HELPING HER TAKE CARE OF IT DURING THE HEALING PROCESS OR WHATEVA‼️💳💥💳💥 IDK I WAS JUST SITTING HERE AND THOUGHT OF IT IF YOU DOJT WANNA WRITE IT THATS OKAY

could even make the tattoo be his name or his initial or somethin 🤯🤯🤭😏

love you and your writing 😚

thanks for keeping us fed 😌

carmen berzatto x reader

okay so yes, maybe hozier has jolted me out of my writers block. i'm just a women after all.

Inked Devotion

this request was fun! i really didn't know what to make the tattoo so i left it a blank slate for whatever you wanna imagine, hope that's okay!

word count: 1.7k

things; tattoos, mentions of braces, carmen's unyielding devotion to you

Your eyes dart across the tall walls lined with inked models and men in dark beards nervously. You can't shake the tension that seems to imprint itself under your skin, your knees jittering with a rapid tap against the linoleum floors.

When you had brought up wanting to get a tattoo, a half joking mutter under your breath as you traced the many littered on Carmen’s body you hadn’t anticipated to actually go through with it.

And yet here you were, shaking like a leaf despite the diffuser jutting out whisper of eucalyptus that was meant to be calming. Whilst Monica, a woman you'd meant a handful of times ran through the list of after care necessities you should be listening to.

You can’t though, you don’t hear a thing as you stare unseeingly through the dark auburn tresses of her short hair, wrapped up in the thoughts that have begun to eat away at the already dwindling confidence you had when you first walked in.

“Hey, you still with me darlin’' Monica's Brooklyn drawl draws you back to her, and you duck your head sheepishly as you nod furiously. Like a goddamn high schooler getting caught looking out the window instead of listening to Hemingway.

Monica smiles toward you, humouring warmth filling her pale skin that, surprising to you, were incredibly stark of tattoos. In fact, if it weren’t for the posters taped to the walls, the black and white tiled floor, and the ominous tattoo bench in the corner you would have thought you walked it not the wrong place. It was stereotypical of you, and you had been a loud advocate for not judging a book by its cover, but goddamn, what tattoo parlour had potted plants and candles that smell like cinnamon?

“Sorry, uh, what did you say?”

“It’ll be alright, the pain really does depend on each person but Larry here will catch you if you faint on my tattoo bed” Monica winks with a smile, and you shift your gaze to the man stationed unmoving near some marked drawers, the mass of muscle hidden beneath dark jeans and a shirt bursting out of him.

It wasn’t the pain you were worried about, you had period cramps that sounded worse than that, it was more so the prospect of having your virgin skin imprinted with something forever. You had never done something like this, teenage recklessness had passed you by without a blink, and you had little to show for it but carved words on your old dresser from a knife and a dark eyeshadow phase that lasted less than a month.

It was a little pathetic, getting your first tattoo eons after any respectable age, and your trepidation seems blatantly clear as Monica shakes her head with a smile.

“Many people get their firsts well into adulthood, did I tell you about my last appointment? A 52 year old woman wanting a goddamn tramp stamp.”

You can't help but let a giggle out, the unsureness leaving you at Monica’s words

“You still want this right?’ Monica replies, and you shift your gaze to Carmen, who was already watching you fondly, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he pushes his golden strands back and gives you a nod

“It’s all up yo you gorgeous, if your having second thoughts there is a really good Thai place i wanted to che-”

“No, no I want this” You cut him off, and he chuckles softly, “Besides we already designed the stencil and everything” Carmen nods at that, placing his large palm onto your own, squeezing it with reassurance.

“Damn right we did, thinkin it's my best work yet” Monica chirps from the other side of the bed between you.

“Alright, just sit on that bed down there, get settles while I grab some things”

You nod, walking stiffly towards the leather bed, tissue paper crinkly under your weight as you shift into a comfortable position. Your eyes follow Monica like a laser, watching as she santises her hands and slides on powdered sterile gloves.

It reminds you of days spent in Dentists chairs, visions of rubbery fingers tightening wires into your teeth flashes behind the darkness of your lids. Funny, you had worried about your lack of experimental youth, and yet here you are now feeling like a kid again.

The thought makes you smile, and you open your eyes to feel the heated gaze of Carmen looming over you. Face distorting in horror when Monica’s tool makes a clatter, eyes widening comically in that way that always makes you laugh.

“Alright Doll, I’m just gonna need you to sit up for me whilst I get the skin prepped. Alcohols gonna feel a little cold to the touch, kay?” Monica says.

All you can do is nod as she rips open the matte packet, pressing it into your open skin shaved clean per her request a few prior. Who knew how much prep a tattoo would need, you were sure it was on par with even one of Carm’s dishes.

Unfortunately for you the only numbing cream useful for tattoos had something that would have made you break out in hives, so it was cold turkey for you. Monica had transformed the design into a stencil, and as she was transferring it into your skin it seemed to come to life all at once.

You had spent hours going over designs, and whilst you were extremely happy with what you both came up with, it was like when the lines and shapes had traced your skin, you finally saw it. And the moment you did you couldn't stop the wave of emotion that rushed through you, filling your eyes.

“Hey, baby, hey what is it” Carmen rushed urgently, crouching down when he noticed the way you sniffled.

“Awe doll, you don’t like the design? I’ll change it in a flash, this is just the stencil it aint permanent at all” Monica quickly stopped, looking up at you with concern

“No no, I’m fine” You squeezed Carmen “It’s so, it's beautiful Monica” You rushed out, trying to ease the lines of concern that appeared on her face. Monica bloomed at your reply, fondness heating her cheeks as she traced your skin comfortingly.

“Thank you” You whispered to her as she shushed you.

“At least we got the crying bit over and done with, it might hurt less now” She winked, before reaching for her tattoo gun.

“Ah shit” You grunted, shooting daggers Carmen's way when he snorted out loud.

Returning to your skin, Monica pressed the pointed tip of the gun to your skin, the first sink of ink burrowed into your skin causing you to clench your jaw.

Monica looked up to watch your expression with a smile,

“See, ain't too bad” Carmen replied before you gripped him white knuckled, making him wince regrettably.

It took some time, you won’t lie to yourself that is fucking hurt. But soon enough the sharp stab had resided to a dull ache, and you instead had become all too focused on the movement of Monica's hand swaying through the strokes of the design.

You were in awe, she breathed her being into it, and as the design took inches and inches of your skin you understood why she was booked out for months. With one last intricate curl, and a wipe of cleansing soap across the inked skin it was finished. Revealed to both you and Carmen's eyes in all its glory, and you both just stared.

“God, now I wish my first was as good as that instead of wonky stick and poke” Carmen said after a pregnant silence had passed.

“It..wow, yeah. Yep, I want to be buried with this” You said softly, giddiness erupting in your body as you shook your hand grasped in Carmens.

“I’m glad doll, I mean this is meant to be professional but goddamn does your skin just take it. Fuckin’ gorgeous” Monica replied, leaning back as she places the gun on the table near.

“Hey, I'll report you to HR” Carmen bitterly replies, moving you closer to his side as you laugh.

“It’s my business, I am HR” Muttering under her breath as she rolls her eyes. Wrapping your skin in adhesive sheets, Monica repeats the after care instructions, thankfully and this time you listen.

Carmen had already grabbed your things, motioning for you to start heading out after you both furiously thanked Monica for everything. You crinkled with joy as she hugged you, breathing in the smell of old spice and medical grade rubbing alcohol that followed her.

Her studded rings glistened in the afternoon sun as she waved you both goodbye, as you couldn't help but skip in your stride across the sidewalk. Finger tracing the raised blotted skin, whilst your other hand hung onto Carmen as he twirled you around.

“My gorgeous ink stained sweetheart” Carmen called to you, and you were brought back to his chest gently like a tide again.

“Thank you too, you know” You said into Carmen's cotton shirt. It was the one you got him after your first date, it had been a deep cobalt then. You regretted it just as you gave it to him, fearing you were being too forward. And then he wore it until it faded into a light blue.

“Wouldn't even have this forever on me if you hadn't been the one to bring it up again” You replied softly, fingers tracing his jaw.

“Would have spent a year learning how to tattoo myself if you wanted me too. Monica just seemed quicker” Carmen mumbled before you softly hit his chest with a smile.

“Hey, it’s true. Your skin deserves to be remembered, I could trace it till my fingers atrophied and I’d still have the memory of you under my skin memorised” Carmen divulged, eyelids drooping as he leaned down into your embrace.

You shake your head, heart panging so deeply it hurt till you pressed your lips to his. Tasting the outpour of Carmen that he let loose into you everyday.

And Carmen had stayed true to his words weeks later when it had healed, tracing it till his fingers weren't enough. Till he had to wrap his mouth around it and taste it with his tongue.

He swears even your inked skin tasted sweet.

tags <3 @parmforcarm @hansfics @kpopgirlbtssvt @nolita-fairytale

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libraryofgage · 8 months

Text

SpiderPool Steddie Part One

So, this is definitely gonna have multiple parts lmao

It's been bouncing around my brain for a while like the Addams Family Steddie AU lol

Anyway, lemme know if you'd like to be tagged for future parts ^_^

----

Sister Margaret's School for Wayward Girls is, at best, a dive bar. At worst, it's a cesspit in which the scummiest people in the city gather to bask in each other's scumminess. To Steve, however, it's the perfect place to collapse after a long patrol, splayed out like a starfish on the roof as the music playing inside vibrates the building itself.

Steve takes a deep breath, setting his bat down next to him before pushing his mask to the bridge of his nose. He then lies down on the roof, wishing not for the first time that the city's light pollution wasn't so bad. Seeing the stars and hunting for constellations would really help him ignore the cracked ribs screaming inside his chest and threatening to break if he even breathes wrong.

All things considered, though, it could be worse. Steve doesn't have any morning classes, Vecna didn't beat him up nearly as bad as he usually does during their fight earlier, and his accelerated healing means Steve will be able to breathe normally by morning. Robin would tell him he has a very low bar when it comes to judging how shitty his life currently is, but she isn't here, so her opinion doesn't matter. Dustin would tell him he should try not getting his ass whooped in the future. Thankfully, he also isn't here, making his opinion as meaningful as Robin's.

Steve closes his eyes, letting his shoulders relax and trying not to think about anything. It sort of works until his entire body suddenly tenses, every nerve on edge and goosebumps shooting across his arms. He shoots up, ignoring the harsh twinge in his ribs as he turns in a crouch and grabs his bat. Steve clenches his jaw, breathing harshly through his nose to keep from groaning in pain, and feels relieved he didn't completely remove his mask completely.

Over by the door leading to a staircase is a guy with ripped jeans, a worn-out shirt with "HELLFIRE CLUB" across the chest, a jean vest covered in patches and pins, and hair pulled back out of his face with a few wavy strands stubbornly escaping his hair tie. He's breathing a little heavily, his face flushed like he's just climbed a few flights of stairs. Actually, he probably has.

"Woah," the guy says, his voice soft enough that Steve would have missed it if not for the enhanced hearing. The guy clears his throat and holds up both hands, showing off a bottle of Jack Daniels in one and a bag with a grease-stained bottom in the other. "Uh, I come in peace. I didn't realize the rooftop was taken."

Steve has no clue what possesses him, but he forces himself to relax and set the bat down. "No, it's okay. I can head out," he says, staying seated despite his words. He's really hoping the guy will insist he doesn't need to; his ribs are still aching like a bitch.

Thankfully, the guy flashes a grin and slowly lowers his hands. "Nah, you're all good. Not every day I get to eat next to a hero. Want some fries?" he asks, walking over and sitting a good two feet away so there's plenty of room between them.

He tears open the bag to create an impromptu plate and puts it between them, the smell of greasy and undoubtedly delicious fries tempting enough that Steve picks up a smaller one and pops it into his mouth. "Thanks. Where are these from?" Steve asks, glancing over as the guy twists the cap of his bottle and takes a swig.

"A burger joint two streets down and one street over. On the corner."

Steve nods, making a mental note of the directions so he can get a burger before swinging home. He's got just enough in his pocket to afford one. "So, got a name?" Steve asks, figuring he's already eating the guy's fries and they're about to spend some time together on this roof. He should know the guy's name.

The guy's grin returns, and he sets the bottle down between them as well. It's tempting, but Steve doesn't trust his alcohol tolerance to hold up while his body is busy fixing his ribs. "Eddie. Do I get to know your name, too?"

Steve snorts and leans away slightly, putting a bit more distance between Eddie and his entirely too-grabbable mask. "Nice try," he says.

"Worth a shot," Eddie says, shrugging as he picks up a few fries. "So, Spider-Man, what brings you to Sister Margaret's? You enjoy the gay metal scene?"

"What's the difference between gay and regular metal?"

"Our hair is better," Eddie explains, dramatically flipping the few strands of hair escaping his tie.

Steve has to hold back a second snort, taking another fry and chewing on it before saying, "I like resting here after patrol. The whole building shakes with the music."

Eddie lights up, his eyes brightening and his back straightening some. "So, you're a fan of Corroded Coffin," he says, taking another swig of the Jack Daniels. It's only now that Steve realizes it's already a quarter of the way gone, and he wonders if Eddie's liver can handle that much alcohol all at once.

"Is that the name of the band?"

"Yep. They play here almost every night."

"I'm guessing you like them, too, then?"

Eddie hums, amusement dancing across his expression now, giving Steve the distinct feeling that there's some secret he simply isn't in on. "They're the best band I've ever heard. Their music is incredible. They really push the boundaries of the genre. And their lyrics? Amazingly layered with at least three meanings per line. I highly recommend actually coming in for a listen one of these days," Eddie says, leaning a little closer to Steve.

A beat of silence passes in which Steve holds Eddie's gaze. Or, he holds the gaze on his end; he's sure Eddie can't actually tell with the mask covering his eyes. "You're in the band," Steve says.

"Lead guitarist and singer, yes. I also write the songs."

"You're incredibly critical of yourself, really grounded in reality."

Eddie barks out a laugh. "I just happen to know my worth incredibly well."

"You have all the confidence of a mediocre white man on a job hunt."

Eddie gasps, placing a hand on his chest as he looks at Steve. "How dare you call me mediocre. I am revolutionary at worst and the second coming at best."

"You know the second coming involves, like, an apocalypse or something, right?"

"I'm Jewish, why would I bother with the fine details?" Well, Steve will give him that. "By the way," Eddie says, gesturing to Steve's bat as he continues, "do those nails actually see any use? Or are they just there to act as a threat?"

Steve looks down at his bat, considering it for a moment before carefully holding the middle and offering the handle to Eddie. Now that he's giving them a few moments of attention, he's realizing the nails embedded in the end are a little rusty and definitely need cleaning. "I try not to be deadly with it, but Vecna's got these lab-grown demon dogs and bats that always manage to break through my webs," Steve explains.

He watches as Eddie takes the bat, weighing it in his hands before shoving his palm into the nails. Steve jerks, a wordless shout escaping his throat as he launches himself over the fries and in front of Eddie. "Are you okay?!" he asks, grabbing Eddie's hand and shakily inspecting the nails sticking through it. Fuck, those are going to be a bitch to get out, and he'll probably have to swing Eddie to the hospital for a tetanus shot.

Being angry doesn't even register in his brain as Eddie laughs. "Don't worry about it, Spidey," he says, pulling his hand off the nails with a slight wince. He wiggles his fingers, letting Steve have a front-row seat to the injuries closing. "See, good as new."

And he's right. The injuries are good as new. In fact, there isn't even any scarring, and Steve almost rips his mask off to take a closer look but stops himself at the last minute. Instead, he grabs Eddie's hand and yanks it closer, turning it over to check his palm, too. "What the fuck?" he asks, looking up at Eddie, still gripping his hand tight.

"Super healing," Eddie explains. "Like, super duper. If I ever get decapitated, just hold my head to my neck, and I'll be right as rain."

"I'd rather not put that claim to the test," Steve says, frowning slightly as he runs his fingers over Eddie's palms, just to make sure the injuries aren't somehow hidden from sight.

"You know, I kissed the last guy who touched my palm like that," Eddie says, leaning in again with that grin.

Suddenly all Steve can think about is how Eddie's lips do look soft. And it has been a while since Steve actually kissed anyone. And he does think Eddie is funny. And he does find himself wondering if his smile will taste like the Jack Daniels and fries. And...and...

And Steve needs to go before he does anything he shouldn't be doing as Spider-Man.

He jerks back, dropping Eddie's hand like it burns, and ignores the ache in his ribs as he grabs his bat and stands. "I, uh, I need to get going. Thanks for the fries, Eddie," he says, hurrying over to the edge of the roof.

"Woah, just gonna eat and run on me, big boy?" Eddie asks, scrambling to his feet and over to where Steve is climbing onto the edge of the roof. "That's not very hero-like of you. You haven't even left me your name or number. How are you gonna pay me back $2.50 for the fries?"

"I had five," Steve says, turning to look at Eddie as he webs his bat to his back and pulls his mask down over his chin.

"The economy sucks, man."

Okay, he's got Steve there. Again. "Nice try, Eddie."

"Can you blame a guy? Your ass looks great in that spandex."

Steve is suddenly relieved his mask is back down, covering the furious blush spreading across his cheeks. He'd think it was just a joke, but the sincere and somewhat goofy smile tugging at Eddie's lips tells him it's more genuine than anything else. "Thanks," Steve says, giving Eddie a two-finger salute before taking a step back off the roof.

He shoots a web at the edge of the building, using the momentum to swing around the corner. His ribs are killing him with the movement, but he still manages to throw a, "See you later, Eds!" over his shoulder before he's completely out of earshot.

Later, Steve will wonder how Eddie got his super healing, if he's that flirtatious with every guy he meets on the roof of Sister Margaret's, and if he'll be there the next time Steve swings by. But that's for later. For now, he's just enjoying the breeze rushing over him and thinking about Eddie's eyes and his smile and his long fingers.

#Steddie #Spiderpool Steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #spiderman steve harrington #deadpool eddie munson #it'll make sense i promise #also Eddie goes back into the bar and immediately starts bragging about flirting with spider-man #everyone immediately knows he's about to become Annoying (TM)#and resign themselves to their fate #Robin does the exact same when Steve gets home and tells her about Eddie #RIP everyone who has to live with these two gushing about each other

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sihtricfedaraaahvicius · 3 months

Text

Feel.

Note: A lovely request by another lovely anon. Thank you so much for this, I hope you'll enjoy it as I really loved to write it!

Warnings: fluff/slight angst; mention of blood/battle/wounds/death.

pairing: Sihtric x you (f)

Summary: Sihtric wasn't the only one who suffered after the battle of Tettenhall.

Word count: 2,9k

Masterlist

You had never seen so much blood in your life.

Being Sihtric's wife was often a frightening life as you never knew how your beloved Dane would return to you after battle, or if he even would. You had patched him up time after time, from minor bruises on his pretty face to deep cuts on his arms and legs, resulting in more scars on his body. You knew today wouldn't be any different, but when Uhtred and what was left of his army returned after the battle of Tettenhall, you felt yourself become sick at the sight of your husband. So much blood. The shaved side of his head was covered with blood, a mixture of his own and those of the men he had killed himself, and it dripped down his neck, drenching his tunic and running down to his arms and hands. The closer he came to you, the more blood you saw and the more unwell you began to feel… until everything turned black

You opened your eyes again moments later, after Sihtric had caught you in his arms when your legs had given out underneath you at the sight of him. But even though you knew your eyes were open, everything was still black, pitch black. And you felt the warm sun on your face while you laid in the tall grass, feeling your husband's arms around you as he cradled you.

'Temporary blindness,' the healer told Sihtric.

'Temporary?' Sihtric asked, and you heard the panic in his voice, 'what does that mean?'

There was a silence, and even though you couldn't see, you could feel it was an awkward silence before the healer spoke again.

'It means,' she scoffed, 'that it is temporary. This is the result of a sudden trauma and it will heal itself over time.'

'But what if it doesn't?' your husband asked.

The healer didn't reply, instead you only heard your husband's heavy, panicked breathing above you as he held you in his arms.

'Hey!' Sihtric suddenly shouted, causing you to flinch at the sound of his hard, hoarse voice, 'I asked what happens if it doesn't heal!'

You once again didn't hear the healer anymore, and you suddenly felt the familiar rough fingers of your husband gently caressing your face. You carefully brought your hand to his as he touched your face, and you slowly moved it up his arm, feeling the already dried and thickly crusted blood that had painted him in battle underneath your fingers. Your breath hitched upon the feeling and Sihtric leaned his forehead gently against yours, while your hand reached the neck of his armour and you curled your fingers around the leather, keeping him close.

'Sihtric,' you cried softly, 'what if… what if I can never see again? What if,' you said with a sob, 'what if I can never see you again?'

'It will heal,' he whispered, but the tremble in his voice told you he wasn't convinced, 'I promise, it will heal. I'll… I'll find a way.'

'But it is up to the Gods,' you sniffled, 'they will have to decide-'

'Then we shall let them decide,' Sihtric hushed you, 'but until then,' he took both your hands and slipped one under his leather armour, upon his heart, and the other on his face, allowing you to feel his coarse facial hair, 'you can always feel me, my love. You will always be able to feel me.'

You felt the movements of Sihtric's horse you were mounted on. You still couldn't see Sihtric, nor his horse, but you were seated facing your husband as he had climbed upon the horse after you. Two days had passed since the battle of Tettenhall and you were now all on your way back home again. You had wrapped your arms around Sihtric and buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his earthy scent and feeling the warmth of his skin against your own.

'I'm scared,' you suddenly whispered.

'I know,' Sihtric said, and you felt the vibration of his low voice as he spoke softly, 'but we will fix this, I promise. Just let us first reach home.'

You hummed softly in agreement, as there was not much else either of you could do in this very moment.

'How much longer?'

'One more day of travel, my love,' he answered, 'we will stop and set up camp soon, before the sun sets.'

You felt the texture of his clothing beneath your fingertips while you both swayed lightly as the horse carried you. Sihtric's leather armour was hard, thick, and you were thankful that Lord Uhtred paid your husband well enough to be able to own a piece of such fine craftsmanship. You silently counted the rivets you felt as you traced your fingers up and down; hundredth and thirty one rivets protected your husband's chest during battle. Hundredth and thirty one rivets kept his leather armour together up front, while all it would take was only one sword to his throat or only one axe to his face to have him taken away from you. You slid your hands up further, feeling the pleasantly warm pendant Sihtric wore around his neck as the sun had been shining its light upon it, and then you felt the warmth of his skin again. You slowly trailed your fingers up and over his throat, merely grazing his Adam's apple and feeling it move as he swallowed. You explored further, feeling his pleasant, but sometimes painfully harsh and short facial hair as you touched his chin. You moved your slightly trembling fingers up to his lips, feeling they were slightly dry and a little chapped here and there, and then you felt his lips curl into a smile.

Sihtric moved his hand from the small of your back up to your neck, and after you moved your hands carefully up to touch the sides of his head, tangling your fingers in his hair on one side while feeling the stubble on his other, shaved side, he pulled you closer until his lips collided with yours into a gentle but long and firm kiss.

'Promise not to leave my side?' you asked, lips still touching.

'I promise,' Sihtric murmured, his warm breath on your lips and his hands on your skin making you feel safe despite your lack of vision.

The camp was made not much later and Sihtric kept his promise to you. He did feel bad that he wasn't helping out the other men setting everything up, but every time he only slightly moved, causing you to suddenly feel the loss of him close by, you panicked and clung onto his hand or arm, whichever you managed to get a hold of first. And so Uhtred had given Sihtric a nod that he just had to stay put next to you, as no one could imagine what it must be like to suddenly lose your eyesight.

It had been two days already, and now you were going into your third night of sudden blindness. As the previous nights, Sihtric had gathered several blankets and other soft materials that made for a bed for you. As it was summer, most people simply slept in the grass or on the sand under the stars, but your husband wanted you to be as comfortable as possible. You usually didn't mind sleeping on the ground if you had to, but now that you couldn't see what it was that suddenly slithered by or crawled over your hand, Sihtric refused to let you go through that kind of unpleasantry.

He helped you out of your clothes and then took off his own, leaving you both in only your undergarments. And once you were comfortably on the improvised bed, Sihtric knew what you needed to feel safe and secure and he carefully moved to lay on top of you. Without putting his entire weight on you, but just enough to make you feel as if nothing could harm you, he settled between your thighs and wrapped his arms around you. Even though you couldn't see, Sihtric had tried his hardest to make the tent you were in as cosy as possible. He firmly believed you could feel the energy of a place, and since he only wanted you to feel positivity, safety and love, he had lit a few candles that were meant to guide one in the darkest of the night if needed.

Sihtric looked at you, slowly tracing your cheek with his rough fingers while he felt his emotions were about to overwhelm him. Everything that had happened the past few days was finally catching up on him, but the worst feeling was that he felt absolutely powerless when it came to you. He buried his face in your neck and nuzzled your soft skin slowly while he fought his tears.

You heard a sudden change in his breathing as he held you, a soft hitch in his throat before he inhaled sharply and exhaled slowly. You felt his beating heart underneath your hand as it was placed upon his bare chest, and its pace began to speed up. You listened carefully while you allowed the warmth of his body to embrace you, like form fitting armour, and you trailed your other hand over his back, feeling every scar he had ever earned. Your eyes were closed as you breathed in his scent, and you moved your hand from his back up into his soft curls, feeling the cold silver beads that were braided into his hair. And then, seemingly out of nowhere, you felt something warm trickle down your neck just before you heard your husband sniffle, and you wrapped both your arms tightly around him.

'My dearest,' you whispered, feeling your lips graze his ear, 'do not cry, please.'

'But I did this to you,' he said softly, his pain broke his voice like it broke your heart, 'I didn't know how much blood-'

'We both didn't know this would happen,' you hushed him, holding him as close as you possibly could, 'it was not the first time I have seen you fresh out of battle. It was not the first time I have seen you wounded or covered in blood…'

'But it affected you this time,' he sniffled, 'and I am sorry.'

'You do not have to be sorry,' you whispered and searched for the pendant around his neck, 'all we can do is pray to the Gods,' you clutched the protection symbol in your fist, 'we can only pray.'

Sihtric didn't speak, but he hummed softly in agreement and sniffled again. You felt him move slightly and figured he was propped up on his elbows after you gradually lost the feeling of his body weight pressed onto you, which was shielding you. You opened your eyes but everything was still dark, and you quietly listened when you heard his soft whispers and something move in the sand next to you. You couldn't quite place the sound you heard above his inaudible whispers, but you knew it was a familiar one. It was a sound you had heard many times before, mainly when you were still a child, but you couldn't recall what caused it exactly. It wasn't a harsh sound, it was rather soft, but every now and then the soft soothing sound was interrupted by a sharper, scratching sound.

'What are you doing?' you whispered while your hands searched his biceps, then trailing up to his shoulders and back onto his chest; feeling his heartbeat underneath your hands again, reassuring you that your other half was really there with you and still alive.

Sihtric's whispers then stopped along with the familiar yet unknown sound close to your ear, and for a few long seconds you only heard the crickets outside and the soft chatter of men outside your tent.

'Praying,' your husband then said.

Sihtric sniffled again, and you swore you heard the sound of a single teardrop fall down onto the uncovered earth just next to your face. You heard it just before you felt his body being lowered down onto yours again, and then another single teardrop fell quietly, and you felt it land onto your cheek just before you felt his lips pressed onto yours. He then kissed your face all over, gently, and softly hummed childhood lullabies in your ear until you fell asleep.

The next morning you were woken up by the sound of someone cursing after having dropped a bowl of food right outside your tent and you immediately clung onto Sihtric, who had shifted to lay underneath you while you were asleep. He had held you, sleeping on top of him, tightly wrapped into his arms through the night, with a blanket pulled up all over you. Everything was still dark, so you closed your eyes again and buried your face in his neck, slowly waking him up as you peppered his skin with soft kisses. You heard Sihtric hum quietly and pleased as he began to wake up at the feeling of your lips all over him. He then accidentally pulled the blanket, uncovering your face, and when you mindlessly opened your eyes again you froze and stared at him. Your husband blinked, attempting to wake up when he lost the feeling of your mouth on his neck, and his eyes grew as big as yours when he noticed a shift in you.

'What?' he whispered and carefully cupped your cheeks to not startle you, while his eyes darted rapidly over your face, 'what's… what's wrong, darling?'

You didn't speak for a moment, you just kept your eyes fixated on your husband. And just when Sihtric's heart skipped a panicked beat, he saw your lips curl into a smile.

'I just… realised,' you whispered, 'that my husband is even more handsome than I remembered him to be.'

Sihtric stared at you, and then sighed in relief before he smiled too and kissed you lovingly. And he will always believe that the old Gods had healed you, after he had drawn a bindrune in the sand right next to you the night before, while he had whispered his prayers.

taglist: @clairacassidy @finanmoghra @uunotheangel @hb8301 @bathedinheat @neonhairspray @anaeve @bubblyabs @travelingmypassion @sylasthegrim @andakth @succnfuccubus @willowbrookesblog @lady-targaryens-world @skyofficialxx @elle4404 @alexagirlie @sweetxime @solango @gemini-mama @cheyennep3107 @little-diable @jennifer0305 @drwstarkeyy @mrsarnasdelicious @verenahx @urmomsgirlfriend1 @foxyanon @djarinsgirl27 @sigtryggrswifey @diiickbrainn @sihtricsafin @lexwolfhale @dixie-elocin @m-a-s-h-k-a

#sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom #sihtric #tlk #sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #the last kingdom fic

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bruciemilf · 2 months

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You know who I’m most excited to meet in Hazbin Hotel?

God.

Would they be as spunky and raunchy and saucy as the rest of the cast? Would their speech be polished and carefully molded to plastic perfection like heaven is?

What’s their relationship with Adam? You know, Allfather of creation and all? World giver? Forger of bone and flesh? Would he be classically paternal? Is that why Adam’s such a douchebag?

Like, what if Adam DIDN’T start that way?

What if God’s treatment of EVE jumpstarted Adam’s absolute dumbassery? How can one be kind when their own maker prides itself on ruthlessness?

There’s a scene playing in my mind, quite gruesomely so, so be warned.

I’m thinking of Eve, with sweat and tears storming down her face, laid on perfectly cut grass in Eden.

She doesn’t know what’s happening to her. She just knows there’s a person being squeezed out of her. Cain, God calls it.

“What’s happening to her?!” Adam’s voice is rough, and loud, and not all that angelic for his status. He’s speaking to the sky, to a huge eye that watches and does nothing.

“Oh, that? Well, I just figured it’s been getting awfully lonely around here for you two, so I conjured this little thing! You’re welcome. “

What’s there to be thankful for? His wife roaring in pain? Squeezing his hands so tightly his fingers almost snap? Who’d look at this and want to praise it?

Adam’s voice is panicked, holding Eve tightly to his body, stroking her ashen hair and sweetening his tone as much as could,

“Shh, baby you’re doing great, it’s okay it’s okay it’s okay— fuck, — Help her!“

“Oh don’t be so dramatic! She’ll be fiiine. I made them very durable, you know. “ Women, they mean women, — women made for bleeding; Women born for taking pain, and heal from pain, and do it all over again.

That’s not power. It’s curse.

“Give her something! Anything!”

“Oh, that won’t be invented for a long time, buddy. And it won’t be available to them for even longer, — yeesh, your kin is pretty problematic if I do say so myself. But you got this! I’ll check in later. Maybe. Tell me how it goes!”

It goes bloody. The thing, — baby, — is born quietly, with an angry short of silence inside him, as if he’s waiting to eat the world whole. A part of Adam hopes he succeeds.

He doesn’t let go of Eve for days.

He just knows, above or below, with a God like that, they’re all fucked.

#I’m VERY intrigued by this man anyway don’t mind me #hazbin hotel #hazbin adam #adam x eve #hazbin eve #tw pregnancy #tw childbirth #text #text post #ficlet

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foggyfrogss · 2 months

Text

⋆ HIEMAL ₊˚.

tf! Sukuna x f! Reader | Warnings: MDNI, Sexual Content, Mentions of SA

Chapter Four - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter - Masterlist | ᴡᴏʀᴅs: 6.4ᴋ

All you can ground yourself on is the shrilling ringing in your ears. The thundering beats of your heart fall in step within the background of it.

A trembling deep breath finds its way into the depths of your chest, expanding your aching lungs. You’re flinching a bit from the suddenness. The pain is deep, bouncing through your body in echoing waves.

You’re unsure if it’s the growing anxiety from finding his piercing eyes or if it’s the pain that’s began to make itself known. The numbness has worn off, slowly revealing the intensity. Either way, you’re clutching your fists, squeezing them into balls. Even your fingers had began to shake.

His presence, though usually comforting, intimidated you. The usual comforting fire he emitted had burned hot; angry and red. Suffocating you with the sheer thickness of it. A phantom wave of heat rushes over you when you see the way his dark eyes glint from the fire.

You see red. The dark orbs he held flashed bloodily.

It was frighteningly unfamiliar.

Though you were bare and felt the heat of the fire next to you radiating into your abused skin, chills prickled your arms. Goosebumps decorating your skin in a speckled manner.

“Let’s get this over with,” you hear the sweet, but tired, voice of Aiko break your thoughts. She’s suddenly next to you, holding a damp cloth to your skin to soak up the remaining blood.

Sukuna stands at the edge of the room, watching the two of you. You can feel his gaze as it bores into your figure on the floor.

It’s when you feel the sharp sting of Aiko beginning her stitching you’re gasping. You feel her hand grasp your arm to still you, preventing you from jerking further, “I know it hurts but please sit still.” You nod, following her orders to the best of your ability. She hadn’t even put the needle through your skin yet, only applying pressure.

Sukuna suddenly begins walking towards the two of you, towering over. She immediately stops her movements as she looks up.

The wave of thick tensions follows his form, swallowing you. Your chest expands as you take in a deep, pained breath.

“Leave us,” he says to Aiko. Voice stony, he holds his large fists at his sides. She’s looking up at him, confusion on her bruised face. “I haven’t even began to-“ Sukuna cuts her off.

“Leave us. I will not say it again.”

Your eyes are wide at his sudden brashness. His tone of voice raises to show his annoyance.

Aiko is shocked as well, now intimidated. Any normal person could sense it by the way she reacts. Her eyes are wide, eyebrows furrowed together anxiously as her fingers begin to shake.

He holds her in a cold stare.

Any normal person would cower under the gaze of this man… So she leaves in a hurry. The tension of the room grows unbearably thick as she scurries out.

Silence remains in place of Aiko, floating in between the two of you now.

“Any reason you ordered my servant to leave my arm gaping open?”

It was your turn to exhibit your vexation.

Sukuna does not answer you.

A thud of his knees pressing into the floor sounds as he kneels to sit before you. His legs cross over one another.

“Answer me,” you demand, voice stern.

A grunt comes from his lips as he presses a large hand directly onto your open wound.

It’s sudden, causing you to hiss from the jab of pain. Yet, it grows warm. Your arm radiating in a comforting feeling, swallowing the pain and turning it to bliss. It makes you sigh, leaning into his touch.

What had he done?

Your eyes flicker from his face, glancing to your wounded arm.

You find no evidence of what Michizane had done.

Sukuna had seemingly healed you, leaving your skin smooth and free of abuse. You felt no trace of pain anywhere within you.

It left you frustrated, not understanding what he had just done; it was exactly like he’d done before… healing himself. Yet, he’d done it to you.

How was he able to do that?

His hand remains on your arm, holding you in his warm grasp. Long fingers hook around your upper arm. His thumb rubs into your skin, comforting you in his own way.

“What the hell did you do?” You ask, voice quiet. A frown is etched into your features. The man had much to explain and his silence began to irk you beyond compare.

“It’s of no concern to you,” he grunts out, now releasing your arm from his hold. “What?” You ask, annoyed. How dare he-

“He touched you,” he says, cutting off your thoughts. You’re looking him in the eyes now, finding his dark gaze. Your heart thumps anxiously, banging in your chest. “I come to you,” he begins, “only to find your kenin gathering snow at the gate to melt for your wounds.”

You’re looking him in the eyes now, determining what to say next.

“You reek of another man who I forbid from touching you.”

You subconsciously wrap your arms around your torso and breasts, hiding yourself. It was an attempt at comfort, after finding your bared upper body overwhelming in this moment.

In your mind you questioned if Sukuna was angry with you, rather than the man who’d hurt you. The way he spoke made it difficult to understand. His accusing tone made your body run cold.

The man sat before you; silent.

He sits his elbow on his knee, resting his chin on his balled fist.

Was he observing you?

“As if it was my choice,” you finally add in response to his words. One of Sukuna’s eyebrows raise, intrigue painted across his features. “So you’re saying he forced himself onto you?”

His question makes you take in a deep breath, dreading answering it.

Of course he had… how else would you have ended up the way you did? Bloody and bruised, what else could have happened?

To be fair, Sukuna was not a mind reader. He had only just arrived.

You release your breath, whispering an answer, “Yes.”

He’s sat straight once more, hands in his lap.

It’s as if the demeanor of the room had completely shifted, though still unbearably thick with a foggy tension.

You watch as the hostility forms upon his face, covering his usual stoicism. His pink brows are furrowed together, matching his deep frown. As you trail your eyes from his frown, you see his jaw clench. The sharpness of it making it painfully obvious.

His eyes look the same.

Sukuna was pissed.

“Ryomen,” you release, unwrapping your right arm from your body to extend a hand towards him, “talk to me before you act.” Your hand grasps at the fabric of his kimono. Still not used to your suddenly healed body, you feel the slight ghost of pain in your arms and wrists as you pull yourself to him. He’s too large to budge.

You close the distance between the two of you, leaving but a foot of room between your upper bodies. You’re standing on your knees in an attempt to match his eye level. Being looked down upon was the last thing you wanted in this moment.

Thankfully he had slouched his posture as he sat, which made it easier.

Both of your hands now sat on his large shoulders, feeling how tense they were. Sure, they were always stone-like, but now… you could feel the anger radiating from it.

“He did not touch me like you think,” you whisper. Your voice is trembling just a bit, exposing your anxiousness. “He only pushed me against a wall and threw me into a table… he struck Aiko across the face-“ his sudden deep breath cuts you off. Sukuna closes his eyes for a few seconds before opening them again.

His silence worries you.

Though Sukuna wasn’t a man of many words, he spoke well through his actions and expressions. You understood him, reading him like a book you’ve read a million times over.

The last thing you want is for Sukuna to kill the man, making your life more difficult than it already is. Your father would have you killed along with Sukuna; you were sure of it. That’s if… your father could manage to catch Sukuna.

Marrying Michizane was the last of your worries in this moment.

“I’m completely fine now. No pain or signs of what he had done.”

“That is not the point,” he spits.

You’re silent as he takes his right hand to hold the side of your face, completely engulfing your cheek. He’s warm.

“That pathetic excuse of a shogun touched what is mine,” he tells you. His thumb rubs the patch of skin under your eye. “I told you if he-“

“You are to do no such thing,” you cut him off, knowing what he was beginning to say. You refuse to have Sukuna release his brutality onto Suguwara. “It will only make my situation worse,” you add.

You take your right hand that had rested on his shoulder to hold his face, echoing his hand with yours. “I am strong,” it’s a form of plea, a begging tone, “please leave it be.” Your begging doesn’t go unnoticed as Sukuna sighs, showing he understands.

Though deep down you know Ryomen Sukuna will hold the urge to kill. It’s his nature.

“I’ll tell my father tomorrow. Just leave it be,” you further add. Sukuna gives you one firm nod. You don’t miss the glint of defeat that flashes in his usual bouldered eyes.

In the corner of your eye, you find his free hand in his lap clenching. White stretches across the expanse of his large knuckles.

In one swift movement, he’s grabbed a hold of you and pulled you into his lap. Large arms engulfing your body into a cage-like embrace.

A cage you never want to be freed from.

Instantly you are radiating with content, soaking in the warmth of his body and presence. It leaves you sighing, breathing in his earthy, addictive scent.

“He will never lay a hand on you again,” he says, voice muffled as his face presses into the top of your head. Sukuna’s breath is warm as he speaks into you. His fingers latch onto you, holding you in place; scared that you’d leave. “I won’t let him,” you’re telling him, moving to meet his gaze. He’s looking down at you, a possessive look within his eyes.

You were his.

But was he yours?

The sudden thought troubles you, causing your eyebrows to push together.

You take your hand to hold his face once more, feeling the smoothness of his skin against it.

You’re looking at him. Truly looking at him. In your gaze you drink in his presence, admiring his exquisitely sharp features. The orange glow of the irori soaks into his face, giving him a dreamy and gentle demeanor. Flawless he is, you tell yourself as your eyes drop from his eyes to his full lips.

The sudden urge to become closer makes you pull him down to you, pressing your lips to his in a kiss.

It’s soft, moving your lips slowly against his own. No sense of eagerness behind it. It’s perfect, feeling how he matches your rhythm with his own. His large hand unlatches from your body to hold your face once more, long fingers holding the back of your head. A thumb rests on your cheek.

He pulls you closer to him.

Your hand moves from his jaw to his hair, raking through it as you tilt your head to give better access to his lips.

He’s taking the opening. Tongue making its entrance as it meets with your own.

You kiss a bit more heavily for only a few moments before you pull away, taking in a needed breath.

You’re placing both of your palms against his face, holding it. He holds the wrist of your right hand in his grasp, placing his other hand on your exposed side. The warmth of it radiating into the curve of your body.

The pushing urge to praise him grows within you.

Confidence surges and you open your mouth to speak, releasing the first thing that comes, “you are…” you’re trailing off as your voice is just above a whisper. The silence of the room makes it difficult to speak you find.

“You are perfect,” you utter.

He stares at you from beneath his lashes, eyes hooded with the intoxicating look of lust. Of course a single kiss would rouse him.

Your heart flips in your chest when you see the way his lips curl into a playful smirk, showing his enjoyment. Your praise fuels him.

A faint blush grows on your heated cheeks as you become flustered.

He leans his cheek into the hand he holds, chuckling deeply. The sound of it rattles your brain beautifully. A small smile growing on your lips.

“What a joy it is to have such an alluring creature like yourself in the palm of my hand,” he says to you jokingly, though you know it isn’t. You were wrapped around him, willing to complete any request he desired. The heat of your face grows when you meet his hungry eyes once more.

It’s ironic, you find. His face in the palm of your hand.

Sukuna moves to press his lips into your palm, placing a soft kiss. It makes your heart thump.

He is yours.

It’s all you wanted, being here with him; rather than keeping him from bloodying the house with Michizane… which you knew you wouldn’t be able to do.

You push the image from your mind as you come back to reality. You’re wrapping your arms around Sukuna’s neck, embracing him. The side of your face rests against his own.

This was the first time you’d actually ever shown this type of intimacy. It was exhilarating, feeling him this close in this way; even after what you’d already done together in the past.

You can feel the erratic mess of your heart in your chest. It’s beating feeling as if a war had gone off inside of you. You were sure Sukuna could feel or even hear it. A swirling feeling of your stomach fluttering to life hits when you feel his large hands pressing into your exposed back. The skin on skin contact felt incredible.

In the back of your mind, picking through the many thoughts you hold… you think of the times you’d catch yourself admiring him. Out of the corner of your eye, when he wasn’t looking, etc… you always admired him. The feeling of an intensely deep fondness stitching itself within your heart as the years age on. Fondness growing into a tender warmth; a deep affection.

All in coordinate with a hue of pink.

In moments where your attention didn’t call for him, you found yourself thinking of him anyways.

You are in love with Ryomen Sukuna.

You had been for a while.

From the child you’d known all those years ago until now… you knew you always wanted- no, needed him by you.

“I will- We will find a way out of this,” you tell him, holding the back of his head as you lean into him. His hands slide from your back to tighten his arms around you further. “I only want you,” it comes out as a whisper, muffled a bit as you’re hiding your face in the crook of his neck. Every fiber in your body aches with the intensity of your yearning.

All you hear is the grumble of his deep voice as he acknowledges your words.

A part of you feels as though your attempts may be all for nothing. Freedom from Michizane’s grasp felt far; out of reach. When the snow melts, you’ll be wedded by the words of your mother. Your mother’s face comes to mind, and you wonder how she’d react to the events that happened only hours ago. She would probably stay out of it, keeping herself from any source of issue. All she did was keep to herself anyways.

How could you possibly escape such a situation?

“Do you think we should leave?” You ask, voice muffled into the skin of his neck. The sound of the fire crackling is all you hear as you await a response.

“If you mean the village- No. It is not safe out there,” he tells you, “you are safest here.”

Perhaps he is right, considering you were not a fighter. You weren’t sure what resided beyond the village. Your life was here, all you knew was here.

Though as you think to yourself what he could possibly mean, you’re recalling the ghost sensation of your past wounds. The strange aching feeling of simply nothing telling you just enough… Things you couldn’t possibly explain lived beyond. Aligning along the lines of cursed energy and techniques, things you were taught little of but just enough to know.

Intrigued you were, it was best to stay oblivious.

“I understand,” you whisper.

“Just let me kill him.”

You’re pulling back to look at the man once more. The sudden words that had slipped from his lips make your eyes widen. His dark eyes grab ahold of yours. Your hands grip onto his kimono; frustrated. “I told you-“ Sukuna’s deep chuckle cuts you off, “I respect your wishes. Only a tease.” The stuck up smirk that forms on his lips only makes you look away, refusing to look at such idiocy.

Of course he’d joke about it. His dark humor at times concerned you but you knew it was only a jest… you hoped.

You are relieved to know he does respect you.

His respect for others is scarce, leaving you to question at times.

“I do not want you sleeping here tonight. Have your-“ you instantly cut him off, frowning. “Her name is Aiko,” you interject, knowing he was about to label her as your slave. “Have her prepare you a bag,” he basically orders. You raise an eyebrow, giving him a confused look. “Where are we going?” You’re asking him, feeling him now pull away from you. “You’re to go back with me,” Sukuna says, grabbing the fabric of your kimono. He starts to help you cover your upper body, sliding your sleeves over your shoulders and tying it closed.

You’re silent for a moment as you realize he means his home.

“Alright,” you say.

Aiko had assisted you moments later. Quietly she guided you back to your quarters to layer you up for the walk across the village.

Sukuna sits in the corner of your room as he watches his black haori be placed upon your shoulders. A smug curl of his lips appears, but you don’t see it.

It felt as if the last few hours had not even happened, which should be a good thing. Though you were concerned it didn’t bother you like you thought it would. Any normal person would still be shaken up, locked away in silence to recover.

Perhaps Sukuna’s healing reached your mind as well.

You’re slowly following behind the man as the two of you walk towards his home. The crunching of the snow fills your ears. Wind brushes by you, sending chills down your spine. As your right foot presses into the soft snow, you’re glancing around at the stillness of the village. It was late, all the homes were dark and smoke rose from the stacks on the roofs.

A cloud of steam comes from your lips when you exhale. The sound of it gains Sukuna’s attention. Over his shoulder he glances, looking down in question. “I’m fine,” you assure, giving him a nod. It was just deathly cold.

“Not much farther,” he tells you.

You nod, looking around. The darkness of night makes it difficult to see where you are. Usually you were very good at making your way through your village.

Within a few minutes, you’re approaching his home. The darkness telling you it was cold inside, which you dreaded. You knew he’d be quick to light the fire.

Aiko had packed a thick blanket with your things, which you were grateful for. On your last visit here you’d recalled not seeing much for warmth inside. Only a bare futon in the corner.

Is this how all men were?

As you enter, you’re placing your bag down at your feet. A bit of snow falls from your shoes as you look down, the light from the lantern Sukuna lit giving you access to see.

The clicking of flint fills your ears. You find that Sukuna is already starting the Irori, which you are grateful for.

You take a seat beside him like you had earlier this morning. It really felt as if you hadn’t left at all. How crazy it was for all of the things that had happened to happen in such a short amount of time.

“I should have just stayed here and not returned home,” you break the silence. As the room fills with the warm light of the fire, Sukuna turns his head towards you. “You had to,” he says, in which you nod; defeated. “A shame it is to be treated like a child, even at the age I am now.”

Sukuna hums after you speak, finally sitting as the fire roars to life. You can feel the heat of it grow on you, warming you slowly. It makes you sigh.

The silence is comforting. It’s what naturally comes from Sukuna, being a man of not many words.

Your chest suddenly clenches, aching for the sensation of something warmer.

With a deep breath, you’re removing your hands from the warmth of his haori that’s wrapped around you. Reaching for him your fingers latch onto his clothing, gaining his attention. “Ryomen,” you’re purring, looking up at him with intensity. Your voice comes out as a form of begging.

You’re watching as his eyes flicker towards you, his eyelashes fluttering a bit as he blinks.

Almost instantly his demeanor shifts from curiousness to desire. His eyebrows move together to show determination.

“Careful,” he warns, placing one of his large hands on the back of your neck. It’s pulling you closer to him. His lips hover over yours.

Sukuna says your name, though it’s so quiet you barely register it. You can feel the warmth of his breath as it fans over your needy lips. The heartbeat in your ears roars to life as he closes the distance.

He’s kissing you softly at first, as if to savor your lips like he would never taste them again. It’s soft for a few more moments before he further deepens it, tilting your head to give access for his tongue.

In an instant, anything and everything is sucked into the abyss. The only thing that matters is the carnality that manifests within the both of you. Heat growing and combining.

His hand tightens its grasp on the back of your neck and you feel the way his large fingers twitch in your scalp. It makes you whimper into his mouth, feeling his need through just his touch. Warm and inviting, desire vibrates through you viciously.

Your hands are pulling at his clothing, unwrapping it from his broad shoulders. He does the same to you. Cold air makes itself known on your once again bare upper body. The fabric of your haori and kimono crumbles at your waist.

He then takes control, pushing your back onto the floor behind you. His large figure hovers over you. You’re soaking up the lustful gaze he pours onto you, breathing heavily.

You still couldn’t believe such an ethereal being such as him chose you.

His hand finds your cheek, holding it softly. As he gazes down, a thumb runs over your swollen lips. “It’s just us,” he tells you, glancing from your lips, your chest, and back to your eyes.

His words make your heart thump heavily, making you take in a shaky deep breath. The deepness of it makes your chest raise, which causes Sukuna to glance once more. His eyes devour the sight of your breasts.

It was just the two of you.

You’re nodding in response to his words, unable to speak. You lean into the hand on your face.

The sudden feeling of his heated lips against your chilled collarbone has you gasping, arching your chest into him. He takes his other hand to place on your right breast, brushing a large thumb over your pebbled nipple.

“Ah!” You’re releasing in a breathy gasp.

It drives Sukuna mad.

“You can be louder than that.”

The sound of his muffled, lust filled voice sends you into orbit. It’s intoxicating, causing your legs to move together. Yet, you realize his body is between them. You’re arching your aching core against him, feeling him press just as eagerly into you.

His hardness is obvious as it slides against you, making you moan without shame.

Your cheeks felt as if they’d bit lit on fire, an outcome of the arousal that swims inside of you. Inebriated off of just him.

“Just like that,” he growls, kissing the skin under your jawline. It has you leaning your head back, giving him more room to explore. The wet feeling of his tongue presses into your skin as he licks a stripe across your jawline, stopping at your lips. You’re taking in a shaky breath.

He’s pressing a soft, sweet kiss to them while he chuckles.

Your hands are gripped onto his large arms, feeling the way his biceps tense under your touch.

“I-“ you are unable to continue, feeling his fingers pinch at your nipple. Electricity runs from the sensation straight to your core. It ignites as it flushes through you, burning you alive. You’re bucking into him once more, earning an animalistic growl from him.

“The only thing I want to hear from your lips are-“ his voice is right at your ear as he presses his large clothed cock into your core once more, earning a high pitched gasp. “That’s what I want to hear.”

All the layers become unbearable.

He’s then untying your kimono.

As he sits on his knees, you watch as he unwraps himself from his own clothing. The marvelous sight of his sculpted body comes into view, illuminated by the orange hues of the fire. You’re practically drooling as the starvation hits you, eyeing him as if he were a fine meal.

Before your eyes can travel to his lower body, he’s pressing back into you. The underside of his shaft slides against your now bare core.

“Sh-shit,” you curse, panting. You’re reaching for him, placing one of your hands against his chest.

Eagerness eats away at you as you place your other hand on the curve of his waist. Your fingers press into his skin, feeling his warmth beneath your touch. You wanted to be closer.

His skin is soft, hot to the touch. You felt like you were touching fire itself.

“You are painfully beautiful,” you hear him tell you. “It infuriates me that other men look at you.”

As he speaks you feel the tip of his erection press against your entrance. The way it slides in just a bit tells you there was no need for preparation.

Just the tip of his cock has you on edge, biting your bottom lip while the pleasure soars through you. You’re tightening your thighs around him, bucking your hips a bit; he slides further into you due to your movements.

“You are mine.”

He’s sliding into you fully with no issue. Your walls hugging around his enormous length.

The tip of his dick presses deep into you, stopping as he bottoms out. It’s still sore you feel, not recovered from the first time yet. Though it’s aching, it doesn’t feel awful; it’s all but awful.

You’re silent while he speaks.

“The thought of that trash-“ you muffle his words as you slide your hand from his chest to his mouth. Your palm covers his lips, getting him to lock his eyes with yours. “It’s okay,” you say, moving your body against his.

Sukuna begins moving as well, slowly pulling out a bit to thrust back in. You’re whimpering as your fingers tremble against his lips.

“If he ever touches you again,” he says into your hand. His lips press a meaningful kiss to your palm, sharp eyes casting down at you.

“There will be nothing left of him.”

He bucks into you.

You’re throwing your head back, moaning again. You keep your eyes from fluttering close from the pleasure and you see the way he takes your fingers into his mouth. Index and middle, it sits in the wet warmth.

He’s holding that smug look you always found exciting. It’s a rarity seeing him express anything other than the stoniness he usually holds.

Teeth bite down on your digits firmly, but not enough to hurt. It’s enough to excite you further, fueling the flame inside of you.

Suddenly you’re gasping, feeling the sharp snap of his pelvis as it slams into you. Your hands fall to your sides, finding his forearms to hold onto. He’s holding your hips firmly as he leans back and sits on his knees. Your hips are angled perfectly as he drives into you in a frantic rhythm. Each thrust elicits a moan from your throat. They’re strangled and airy, showing your inner turmoil.

Through your hooded eyes you watch the way his body moves while he pounds into you. His muscles ripple under his skin beautifully.

You scan your eyes to his face, seeing the way his lips are parted in a blissed expression. His eyes are hooded also, pink lashes hiding his hungry gaze.

Sukuna studies the area where your bodies are combined.

He’s drunk off of you.

It’s painfully good.

“P-Please,” you’re calling out, digging your nails into his skin. He grunts from your action. His eyes flicker up to yours.

“Please,” you fully beg with no issue, closing your eyes from the intense stimulation.

The tip of his dick kisses your cervix another time, which makes you wince with a jump. Your teeth clench together, hissing silently at the soreness.

Sukuna stops immediately, peering down at you in concern. The tight grip he held on your hips lightens as he rubs his hands up and down your sides.

“I’m still not used to this,” you tell him.

You’re breathing heavily, trying to catch your breath. Sukuna’s chest heaves a bit too. A light shade of pink flushed across his cheeks.

“I got carried away,” he admits, pulling himself from you.

The sudden emptiness is troubling, making your face twist uncomfortably.

“You are just overwhelmingly alluring,” he adds. His hands rub into the skin of your waist, casting his warm gaze down. “It’s hard to hold myself back with you.”

You nod, understanding his words though they make you blush uncontrollably.

“It’s only been a day or so, you’re still sore so perhaps we should-“ you cut him off when you realize what he’s insisting. You’re too worked up, refusing to stop now.

You’re sitting up, placing your hands on his chest to push him onto his back. The sudden boldness causes a warm feeling to swirl to life inside of you.

“I am not finished,” you whisper.

Sukuna is absolutely beautiful laying under you like he is now.

You see the shocked but crazed look he holds in his eyes. It’s almost proud, but it’s definitely hungry. Hungry for you.

“Finish then,” he spits.

You’re now at a loss, unsure of what to do.

Sure, you knew women sometimes topped men from artwork you’ve seen in the past but now that you’re here… you feel the panic settle inside of you. A frown forms on your lips when you place your hands on his stomach.

He’s chuckling, now holding your hips like he was before. “I’ll be honest,” he starts, “I don’t think I can contain myself seeing you fall apart on top of me.”

He’s lifting your hips, angling his dick to poke at your entrance once more.

When you’re sliding down onto it, he’s taking a deep breath in. Your thighs squeeze at his sides. Sukuna’s eyes close for a few seconds, opening them again to show his cracking restraint.

“Try,” you challenge, voice raspy.

You’re trying your first movement, which is grinding your hips forward. It works, you notice. Almost instantly the veins in Sukuna’s neck bulge when you slide back and forth, not lifting your hips up.

The friction of your bodies combining gives a bit of pleasure to your clit, which makes you clench your teeth.

It’s slow, feeling his length dragging in and out of you in the position you’re in. You can feel all of him. Every inch is savored.

The grip he has on you tightens, pressing your core firmer to him. You watch as his nostrils flare, jaw clenching.

“You are so tight,” he praises. You quicken your hips a bit, pressing your hands against his chiseled abdomen as you steady yourself. His abs ripple under your touch.

Your breasts bounce from your movements. Sukuna watches them in awe, glancing from your eyes, lips, breasts, and further down. He stops on where you’re combined, a concentrated look in his eyes.

You’re arching your back from the sudden pleasure. The pad of his thumb swirling over your swollen clit as you ride him. As you arch, it angles your body perfectly for his cock to continuously press the sweet spot inside of you.

It has you closing your eyes completely, furrowing your brows. It’s a lot, but you take it. You’d take anything this man gives you.

“Good,” he purrs, squeezing his hand on your hip as he gives your clit attention. “Good girl.”

His praises make you moan. “Mm-“ you breathe out.

Quickly, you feel the buildup in your gut. The warmth threatening to spill as your grinding becomes uneven.

Sukuna notices this and begins to thrust from beneath you, continuing the pace so your orgasm isn’t disturbed.

You see the way his jaw clenches, showing he’s close. His grunts become deeper and heavier.

“Fuck,” you whisper to yourself as you feel the euphoria take over. A white light prickles your vision as you close your eyes once more.

You’re shaking as you suddenly moan, loud and shamelessly.

“Ride it out,” he urges. His honeyed voice is deep with a grumble. It helps you through it.

The waves of pleasure slow as does your movements.

When you completely stop you can feel the beating of your heart in your ears. You’re panting for air, trying to catch your breath as exhaustion begins to take over. You were spent.

As you glance down at the large man under you… you see the hooded gaze he throws back at you, signaling his exhaustions as well.

“Did you…?” You’re suddenly asking him, unsure of if he came or not. You were too distracted in your cloud of pleasure to notice.

Sukuna’s eyebrow raises, a small smirk growing on his lips. A sigh escapes his lips before he speaks.

“That’s enough for now,” he tells you, lifting you off of him. The feeling of him leaving your body has you shuddering, making you blush a bit.

He’s already wrapping something around you, which you notice is the black haori.

“Is everything okay?” You’re asking him, watching as he adds fuel to the fire. His bare back shields you from the fire, casting a shadow over you.

You reach to touch him, placing a flat hand on his back. His muscles tense under your touch.

“You’ve been through enough tonight. I don’t want to push you at all.”

His back still faces you, hiding his face as he speaks.

A small smile grows on your lips as you understand what he’s saying. His words warm you, showing you the deepness of his care. Though you’re healed, you can still feel the heaviness of your mind. A lot had happened.

Sukuna then turns to face you once he’s finished feeding the fire. A soft look stretches across his features as he looks down at you. “It’s late,” his hand brushes some hair out of your face, “let me make your bed. You need to rest.”

He slips his kimono back around him once he stands, tying it at his waist.

He’s walking to the other side of the room, grabbing something. You’re in a tired daze, unsure of what it was.

It’s suddenly offered in front of you, showing it’s a clay cup filled with water. “Drink,” he orders, placing it in your hands. You do as he says.

“Are you hungry?” He asks you as he’s walking away. In the corner of the room he lays out blankets; which isn’t much. He also adds the one Aiko packed.

The heavy feeling of your tired eyelids hits as you yawn, staring at the fire in front of you.

You shake your head, content with eating in the morning. “I’m fine, thank you.” Once the cup you hold is empty, you place it on the ground beside you.

After a few moments, you feel Sukuna lifting you up. His large hands taking hold of your body as he carries you to the futon.

You’re absolutely exhausted, feeling the sudden softness of blankets engulf you as you’re laid atop them. Sukuna’s scent surrounds you, leaving a smile on your face as you relax into it.

Sukuna’s strong arm pulls you towards his body, holding you tightly against him. A blanket casts over your body.

It’s silent for a few minutes.

“I won’t let anything happen to you again,” Sukuna tells you. You don’t respond, holding your face into the warmth of his chest. All you feel and smell is him.

It’s all you need.

Against your cheek you can feel his heart beating. Such an intimate, comforting feeling.

You feel his hand hold the back of your head, keeping you close to him.

While you fade into sleep, you’re thinking of it all. You’re thinking of Sukuna and how you wish he was in Michizane’s place. You wished that man didn’t exist. His striking blue eyes haunting you even now, without even having to see them in person.

Pushing the thought of him from your mind, you think of the man currently wrapped around you. He never seems to leave your thoughts.

You want to tell him how you truly felt so badly.

You wanted him to know that you were truly his.

Yet, you feel it’s much too early to declare such a serious thing. The last thing you wanted was to overwhelm him; scaring him off.

Only yesterday did you finally come close as you did.

From all the years you’d known Sukuna, emotions were not something he handled well. You were always patient with him when it came to anything regarding that matter.

Just before you’re falling into spell of sleep, you’re reaching up to place a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you,” you express in a soft voice. Your hand is brushing through his pink hair, massaging his scalp. He’s leaning into your touch, closing his eyes.

As you fade into darkness, you’re able to catch the image of Sukuna removing your hand from his hair, placing a kiss to your palm.

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tulipsforvin · 5 days

Text

✦ A LOVE THAT MELTS ALL

✧ william james moriarty x fem!reader

✧ summary: he's insecure of his scar but he has you. short fluff.

IT WAS THE NIGHT AFTER HIS RETURN; exactly three years later. the lit candle was dim, barely illuminating the bedroom that you and william shared and overall casted a hue of dull orange throughout the room.

you're situated on your heels between his legs on the bed, palms flat against the matress beneath and in the slight gap between your body and his own. william's back, which was already resting against the headboard of the bed, pushes itself even further back against it when you push your face upwards to him.

you're close. too close. he swallows hard, and you watch the prominent adam's apple on his neck bob.

“..darling? is something the matter?” he looks down at you. his voice is soft, confused and uncertain all at the same time. you're staring too hard at him to merely brush it off as 'observing'. applying that word here would be too much of an understatement.

“may i ask what you're wearing the eyepatch for?” your head tilts by the slightest degree, curious.

right.

right. william lets out a breathy exhale.

he hadn't told you about that part yet. with all the emotions and feelings upon his return, he really hadn't found the time to tell you. and quite frankly—he really didn't want to tell you. but he does anyway.

“i.. obtained a scar during my fall.” he clears his throat. “from the westminster bridge.” he watches as your expression turns into one of sincere sympathy. he hadn't even realised he was nuzzling his cheek against your outstretched palm, holding his face.

until you say the words: “can i see it?”

william freezes. you can only watch as his face dissolves into one of panic, widened eyes and a dry throat that he tries to rid of by gulping thickly. “i.. i think it would be in our best interests if i don't show you, and that you don't see it either.”

“but why?”

“why..?” he repeats weakly. why, you ask? it is because you're going to find me hideous. it is because i have done all that i possibly can for as long as i have known you so that you may see me as my best self and that revealing this ugly, disgusting mark on my face now would ruin it all.

“i'm afraid cannot show it to you. it is not a pretty sight.” he scrunches his face slightly and turns his face away from you, as if unsettled by the very idea.

“you must think of me a fool if you think that i care about aesthetics over my lover, liam.” you tell him, sighing with the back of your fingers caressing his cheek. he flinches. “if it's made you what you are right now, then isn't that more beautiful than anything else? you don't have to be perfect to be beautiful, you know.”

“i...” but he cannot seem to refute. nor find any reason to. your words would have made him cry, had he not felt so uncomfortable. “(name)..”

you smile subtly. “but at the end of the day, it depends on you whether you want to show it to me. i won't force you, nor will i let anybody else force you either.” you make an effort to pull back but the blond suddenly pulls you back right in.

a yelp from you in surprise at the sudden tug from him and you're crashing against his chest. both of his hands wrap around your wrists gently. “no, no. you're right, i.. it would be better if i show you it now than procastinate any further. i most likely would not be able to gather the courage if i'm any later.”

his hands fall to his sides, allowing you to do as you please. allowing you to lift off his eyepatch. your eyes crease at the corners while your lips form into a smile. “yeah.” you say. “thank you for being brave.”

your fingers are cautious and gentle on him as one hand rests on his cheek while the other goes behind of his head to unlace the string holding it together.

his breath hitches. a pull from your finger at the string and the eyepatch flutters down onto his lap.

on his left eye is a healed scar. scar tissue, to be exact. the eye colour, which previously used to be a vibrant and a lovely shade of red seems to have lost it's colour as well. the silence lingers in the air. william's fidgeting now, but trying to make an effort not to show it. his face has, once again, dipped away from you. he's embarrassed, face tinged with a light pink. he's biting the inside of his cheek, anxious.

“liam..” you breathe out after a long while. “you're beautiful.” he shakes his head, unconvinced.

william turns to peek at you. “lying to me now would be cruel. i can understand if you find me disgusti—”

then why the long pause? he thinks to himself but does not say it. my love, are you grossed out by me?

but the truth was far, far from his thoughts.

you palms press against his chest as you push yourself up and in an instant, your lips are pressed softly, gently over his eyelid. he flinches sharply.

“(name)—?” he's surprised. baffled.

“i will say it to as many times as you need to hear it, william. you're beautiful. you're beautiful. you're beautiful. you're beautiful.” you pull back, smile at him, give his cheek a slight squeeze and watch as his face—no, his entire being almost melt into a puddle.

his hands, those warm hands and his slender fingers wrap around your waist, tread upwards by the slightest until they find place over your ribcage with the uttermost softness. and he pulls you in.

“i love you.” you mumble silently against him. he doesn't do much but press his lips against yours, gentle and warm against your own. eyes closed, foreheads and the tips of your noses touching.

your eyelids flutter open to a william, flushed and eyes shimmering, looking at you with the most happiest of grins—as if you plucked the stars from the night sky for him. “i love you too. most ardently.”

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #william james moriarty #william james moriarty x reader #william james moriarty x you #william james moriarty x y/n #moriarty the patriot x reader #yuukoku no moriarty x reader

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strlingsav · 1 year

Text

Wounded: Two

– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

One

Explicit sexual content under the cut. Read at your own risk.

You hadn't seen Simon since your intimate encounter in his bunk. It had only been a day, but your growing concern was for his leg more than anything else.

A small part of you wondered if he was purposely avoiding you, finding himself no longer wanting to be around you once he'd gotten what he wanted.

You did your best to push the thought from your mind, throwing yourself into your work, ignoring every gnawing twitch of 'what if' and 'maybe'. You didn't have time or the mental capacity to coddle your feelings, or wonder where Simon was.

He was still injured, likely limping around base, probably still participating in field training. You'd signed off on his physical under the impression he'd be stopping in to have his wound fixed; you wouldn't have if you'd known he'd leave it to fester.

You filled in the remaining details of your patient charts, logged every prescribed medication and finished your rounds. You were ready to head home for the night, collecting your things from your desk when he appeared at your door. He was watching, like he'd caught you in his trap- again.

You hated how easily you gave in, let him have all of you without a second thought. He'd spun a web, of charming words and honeyed nicknames that made you feel warm, special. You knew it wasn't real. In your subconscious, your voice was screaming for you to let him be. To leave, before things got complicated.

"Lieutenant," You pursed your lips, still holding your bag in your hand.

"Don't have to call me that," He said, his shoulder resting against the doorframe.

"I prefer it," You said, a polite smile over your lips.

"Y'know my name."

"I do."

"Rather you use it."

"Why's that?"

"Seems right given the circumstance."

Your brows furrowed, inhaling a deep breath to keep a clear head.

"In here, you're a patient."

He hummed, unsatisfied with your answer. "Don't think it matters much."

"It does," You cocked your head, waiting for his response.

He nodded, slow, understanding but mostly combative. He was ready to put up a fight, ready to explain in detail the things he wanted to do to you. He'd never been a submissive man, nor did he often give in to things he disagreed with- but you were an exception.

"Can y'fix me up?"

You sighed. "I was going home." You dropped your bag, turning to gather supplies. "Take off your pants."

"Bloody hell, Doc. Doesn't take much, does it?"

You shot him a glare over your shoulder. "Sit down."

He was satisfied, knowing he was in your head, making your heart beat just a bit faster, your body burn with a heat of arousal. No matter the situation, Simon could bring it out of you, even against your innermost, adamant protests.

He undid his belt, his eyes on you as he pulled his pants down. He sat himself on the edge of the treatment table, hands gathered in his lap as he leaned forward to watch you. Now that he knew you felt something for him, something more than an innocent attraction, he wouldn't let you slip from his fingers.

You examined the wound, no longer fresh, though still showing the muscle beneath, pink enough that it could be re-sutured and he could be sent off with a course of antibiotics.

"You shouldn't have left it like this," You looked up at him. "It could've gotten infected- you're lucky it didn't."

His eyes hadn't left yours, aroused by the way you scolded him. Your strict voice, hand brushing the hair from your face so you could focus in on his wound- heat crept through him. You, in your element, tending to him after-hours; watching you in itself was interesting, but he liked you, not just as his doctor.

"What's the damage?" He asked.

"None that I can see," You nodded. "Stitches again, though."

He nodded, "Figured."

You huffed, your needle piercing his skin, a bit more careful with the tender flesh. Still, even as it showed an angry shade of red and had begun the healing process, he didn't say a word. No sounds of pain or discomfort, only watching you work.

"You've got nice hands," He said.

You looked up at him, quirking up a brow.

"Thanks," You smiled faintly, amused. "I'm trying to be gentle."

"Don't need gentle, y'know that by now."

You glanced up at him, shaking your head at his antics.

"You left an open wound and likely haven't been taking the pain meds I prescribed, I'll save you some of the pain."

"That ain't what I'm talkin' about," He said.

You avoided his gaze, knowing with his fine-tuned observational skills he'd surely see right through you. He had already. He'd read the flustered expression on your face with ease, finding satisfaction in making you stutter, second-guess your boundaries and feelings.

You didn't like being under the microscope, on display for him to scrutinize and tease. You were smitten yet irritated by his relentless flirting, but really, you despised how easily he could make you want him. Need him.

"It's what I'm talking about," You shot back.

"You're bein' difficult, sweetheart."

"You should be on your knees thanking me for staying to treat you," You said, raising your brows.

"Y'just have to ask," He shifted backwards onto his hands.

You exhaled, "You're insatiable." Your eyes lifted to his as you yanked the suture material through his wound.

"Can't blame me. Y'should see your face."

"What's my face?" You asked, your lips lifting to a hardly-noticeable smile.

He leaned forward. "Had that same look on your face when I had my tongue-"

"Simon." Your voice was low, threatening.

You kicked the door shut, leaning back on your stool as you stared up at him.

"I like when you say my name, Doc."

"You're a patient, Lieutenant. You want anything other than medical attention, you can find me after work."

You finished the last of your knots, tightening it slowly, finally bringing the separated pieces of flesh together with focused precision.

You stood from the stool, sliding the gloves off your hands, throwing away the disposable items.

He leaned in, grabbing hold of your thighs to pull you closer before you could step further away.

"You're off the clock, ain't you?"

You sighed, "Yes, but we're still in my office."

"Think you like bein' a bit filthy, Doc," He mumbled, dragging you in to stand between his thighs. "You sayin' y'don't want me to fuck you on this table?"

Your lips parted in shock, your chest tightening at the vivid imagery his words created in your mind. Heat crept over your face, engulfing your entire body just moments later. He was right. He was also charming- too much so for his own good, and dangerously so for your sake. It didn't take much for him to break down your adamant denial, the rigid rules you had in place.

Truthfully, you wanted nothing more than to give in. But a small part of you knew that if it breached the inside of your office walls, it wouldn't be a fleeting hook-up. You'd be reminded every time you came to work. You'd want more, more than 'house-calls' and tending to his wounds.

It was, in part, why you were a bit grateful he hadn't visited you sooner. Had he, you would've given in at the first sight of an invitation. But some time apart allowed you to keep a sliver of your dignity, your composure.

You sighed, "We can't."

"We can."

"I can't- with a patient."

"I ain't just a patient."

"You are."

"You want me to take you out, Doc? Go for dinner together?" He was without a doubt, grinning like mad beneath his mask.

"No- I'm saying we do this, in here- I can't be your doctor anymore. At least not just your doctor."

"That s'posed to stop me?"

"It should. You're not that kind of man."

He shook his head. "You ever ask me what I want?"

You sighed, defeated. "No, I guess I didn't."

You should've known better than to feed into the gossip, the rumours that spread about him. He wasn't the scary, mean man people had made him out to be. You couldn't help it, not with the aura of disconnection and indifference that poured off of him. You didn't expect anything more from him, nothing aside from sexual gratification.

"I want you."

You sucked in a breath, holding it while you searched for a coherent sentence to blurt out.

He scanned your face, realizing quickly that you'd been silenced by his confession. He pulled you in closer, close enough for your hands to reach his shoulders for balance.

"In every way."

You peered down at him, lips inches from his while you debated on your next course of action. He didn't allow for much deliberation, lifting his mask with the crook of his thumb, leaning closer to press his lips to yours.

You attempted to step back, but his hold was suffocatingly strong.

"Simon," You murmured against his lips. "Your leg," You looked down at the irritated wound.

"I've been takin' your damn meds, Y/N," He said, his hand travelling to your backside. "Now come 'ere."

He pulled you onto his thighs, your legs straddling his waist as he brought his lips to your neck, attacking your flesh with greedy kisses. He undid the sweater you wore, yanking your scrubs over your head.

You were panting, breathing heavily with arousal that was festering in your stomach. Every part of you wanted desperately to give in to your desires, regardless of the consequences that might come after.

His lips moved from the silky skin of your neck to bite the protruding flesh of your breasts, still contained by your bra. You couldn't help but push your chest forward, your hands moving behind your back to unclasp your bra, letting it slide off your arms.

His hands cupped them with gentleness, his eyes attached to yours as his lips engulfed the sensitive, perky nipples before him. Your head fell back, your hands grasping at his shoulders as he ran his tongue across them, teeth grazing them softly. He smiled faintly every time you'd whimper, bring your chest closer to his lips.

"I-I shouldn't- You shouldn't-"

He silenced your stuttering with another kiss- harsh and dominating, his hand lifting to your jaw, tilting your head.

"Y'don't stop talkin' do you?"

"I'm trying," You whispered, his nose nearly touching yours.

"Told you, I want you. Nothin' to talk about."

You breathed in, inhaling his scent, his words. Your fingers played with the few locks of hair peeking out from beneath the mask at the nape of his neck.

His eyes were dark, half-shut with the arousal pumping through his veins. You could see them clearly now, the freckles around his eyelids and the blonde eyelashes that kissed his cheeks with every lazy blink.

You'd been convinced, thoroughly, that it could work- would work. That he meant what he'd said. It was entirely believable, with the way his hands held your body, the way his lips savoured every inch of your skin.

It didn't matter now, you were already condemned to giving yourself to him. You had been desperately holding on to the last shred of self-control, but it quickly withered away with his touch.

"Touch me," You breathed, your head lifting to lock eyes with him. "I need you."

He pulled you in, your ass grinding against his crotch, and let his fingers slide under your waistband. He had a firm hold on your backside, squeezing a handful of the soft flesh, his other hand finding your clit, his fingers rubbing over it generously.

Your mouth fell open, your eyes poring into his as he moved his fingers in circles, using your sticky arousal to help glide over your clit smoothly.

His fingers would dip inside you, slowly, introducing them with a teasing glimpse of pleasure, then he'd pull back out.

"Look at you," He whispered. "I like seein' you like this. Squirmin' on my fingers."

You pressed your lips against his again- craving the connection, praising him for his sweet words. You slid your tongue across his, savouring the softness of his mouth.

He stood to his feet, turning you to face the examination table, his hands gliding over your hips, your stomach.

"Bend over," He whispered- it was abrasive in your ear, the gruffness in his voice. It coaxed goosebumps from your skin, a fuse lighting up through your spine.

You did, letting your hands rest on the table as your eyes peered over your shoulder at him.

He pulled your scrubs down your legs, chuckling when he saw the panties you had on.

"Black?" He teased. "'S that lace?"

Your cheeks radiated with warmth, hiding your bashful smile against your shoulder.

He hummed, "You are filthy, Doc."

His calloused hands slid across the round flesh of your backside, moulding it against his palms. He slid your panties down your legs, his hands gliding down your soft skin. Defying all stereotypes, he was soft, a bit rough around the edges but your pleasure was his ultimate goal.

"You gonna let me fuck you?" He asked, his palm brushing over your spine.

You exhaled, nodding.

He exhaled himself, pulling his briefs down just enough to free his cock, running his hand up and down it a few times while enjoying the vision before him.

His hand gripped your hip, the other guiding his cock into the slick warmth of your pussy, his head rolling back.

Your back arched further into the cool metal of the table, your lungs collapsing with the sharp exhale- a gasp of pleasure that left your lips. You turned over your shoulder to look at him, watching his eyes. He suddenly locked his gaze with yours, pushing his hips forward, in turn pushing himself deeper inside you.

"Keep those eyes on me," He mumbled, letting both his hands fall to your hips as he pulled you into his pelvis. "Fuck me."

Another grunt came from his chest when your body bounced forward. His grip tightened, rolling his hips into your backside.

You could feel your stomach tightening, and you lowered yourself to lie flat, your cheek pressed against the table. You spread your thighs further apart, earning a slap over your ass.

"Y'like this, don't you?" He asked, leaning over you.

His voice travelled in the small room, consuming you, earning a moan from your parted lips.

"You like bein' bent over," He breathed in. "Fuckin' filthy."

You groaned softly, listening to his tone, feeling his cock slide in and out of you with ease.

"Yes," You whimpered, choked with the overwhelming pleasure in your stomach. "Fuck- yes, Simon."

At the sound of his name from your lips, he nearly growled- possessive and pleased.

"That's it- say my fuckin' name."

He pressed his chest flat against your back, his hand reaching under to find your clit. His gloved fingers circled the sensitive bud, your body twitching with every movement, fighting off the desire to cum.

"Simon, please," You whispered- hardly audible under the strain in your voice. "Please don't stop."

"'S right, gi'me this cunt," He groaned. "Give it to me."

You were tense, rigid, with every thrust of his hips, his cock grazing your cervix, plunging deeply inside you. As he dragged his hips back, hitting the wall of your G-spot- his fingers still stroking the swollen, sensitive organ at the crest of your pussy- you cried out softly.

Your head rolled further to the side, your eyes barely opening as you turned your gaze to see his watching your every move. It only made him work harder, move faster to please you- to feel you.

Your stomach was burning- a searing temperature only rising with every passing moment. Your thighs were shaking, your hands holding onto his that were gripping your waist.

"Simon," You gulped, your throat dry. "Please, Simon."

His eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head, listening to you call for him- beg him for more. He'd oblige, always, over and over again.

He said your name, rough with strain, between quiet gasps of pleasure. Your pussy fit around him so well, your walls collapsing in every time he'd flick his fingers over your clit.

Your body was contorted, your torso twisted to watch him. He could easily see your breasts recoiling with every thrust, your hips moving in his hand.

"Go on and cum, Y/N," He grunted in your ear. "Cum on it, love."

His encouragement pushed you over the edge, your pussy constricting around his cock, pulsating with the sporadic waves of pleasure overtaking your abdomen. You trembled, your thighs threatening to give out beneath you as he continued his vigorous thrusts into you.

"Fuck that's good," He grunted, pulling you back to meet his hips.

He was a bit rougher now, exhaling harshly against your neck as he tilted his head to watch you. Your eyes met his, soft and pleading, glassy with orgasmic bliss.

He didn't ask this time, he just buried himself deeper inside you, his cock twitching as he released his cum in you.

He stood still for a minute, catching his breath, appreciating the velvety walls of your pussy, careful not to overstimulate himself.

You exhaled, your hands landing on the table. He stepped back, pulling his briefs back over his groin. He took a nearby hand towel, running it between your thighs in an attempt to help you clean up.

You'd dressed back in your scrubs, and he stood in the corner, watching you gather your things.

"Come back to mine," He said, moving toward you as soon as he saw you grab your keys. "We'll get a bite on the way."

You bit the inside of your cheek, ruminating on his tempting offer, your eyes meeting his.

"Okay," You nodded. A moment passed in silence, before you moved forward. "Let's go."

#cod mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost smut #simon riley smut #cod mwii #mwii #simon riley #strlingsavwrites #ghost x you

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babysbreath · 4 months

Text

focus

➶ oikawa tooru x reader

➶ fluff

Oikawa loves these small parties. They feel personal, an evening to pause and relax in between busy schedules.

A few of his friends are talking to you in front of a wall plastered with polaroids, pointing out familiar faces and funny poses in the photos. One of Oikawa’s roommates had the idea to take a polaroid of everyone who visited their shared apartment and it proved to be quite the attraction.

You laugh, shaking your head, at something one of his friends said. They turn around, eyes scanning the living room until they land on Oikawa.

“Hey, come over for a second,” they call out.

When he’s finally there, one of them asks, pointing at the polaroid of you. “When you took this photo of her, didn’t you already have a crush on her?”

Tongue poking into the side of his cheek, he slowly realises that he’s walked into a challenging situation. He turns to gauge your reaction and you’ve got the biggest grin on your face. Oh, so you’re enjoying this.

“Come on, that was what- almost two years ago?” He points at his roommate on the couch, “She was just one of his friends at the time.”

His response comes out calmly, like he’s unaffected by the question. Or like he’s practised it enough to sound casual.

“You didn’t say ‘no’ though.” They won’t back down easily.

He knows they’re trying to get him to admit that he took way too long to ask you out. You take a sip of your drink, purposely peering at him over the rim of the glass.

He straightens his shoulders, trying not to break into a grin.

“Just 6 months ago, I started to like a certain someone-”

Someone grumbles audibly. Probably you. Nevertheless, he continues.

“-and like any reasonable adult, I waited a few days before I asked her out.”

A friend slaps his back, cackling at his expense. “Sure, sure. You definitely liked her back then but you were too scared to make a move.”

He sighs and he feels laughter bubbling at the back of his throat. His tongue still prods at his cheek, almost letting out a chuckle.

He can’t afford to be betrayed by his own body so he clears his throat, adopting a straight face to say, “Why does it even matter? We’re together now, aren’t we?”

To demonstrate this, he pulls you closer by the waist, hoping the action will put all these questions to rest. The fact that you’re leaning into him is an added bonus. You rest your head on his chest, sighing contentedly before you look at his friends.

“He’s lying,” you declare, and you can practically feel Oikawa’s face whip towards you.

The group erupts into cheers, unable to contain their excitement at the look of disbelief on Oikawa’s face.

“How do you know?”

“He’s twisting his mouth. See?” You point at his lips and then at his cheek. “He sticks his tongue to the side of his cheek when he’s trying not to laugh. Obviously, he’s trying not to laugh because he’s lying.”

He frowns at you, pout immediately put on display since you’ve decided to reveal all his secrets.

“That’s a damning allegation,” he groans.

“They deserve to know the truth, babe.” You plant a kiss on his cheek, momentarily healing his wounded pride, before you walk away to mingle with others.

He turns back to his friends, and by the looks on their faces, he’s never going to live this down.

The conversation soon turns to the polaroid camera itself.

One of his roommates chimes in.

“It’s somewhere in the apartment. At least, I hope so.”

Oikawa hadn’t even realised that the camera had been lost. He makes a mental note to look for it in his room, just in case.

However, his mind is too preoccupied with other things at the moment, like looking around for you. He tries not to make it obvious but once the crowd dwindles down, he spots you by his bedroom door and makes a beeline for it.

You look surprised as you enter the room with him. “Hi, again. Also, I think I left my phone on your bed.”

He moves the pillows around as you scan the room for your belongings.

“Wait, it might have fallen through this gap,” he says, pointing at the space between his bed and the wall. After getting a good grip on the corner of the bed frame, he pulls it away from the wall, showing almost no sign of exertion. You peek at the flex of his muscles, silently thanking his volleyball career, before peeking past him at the spot where your phone should be. He hands your phone to you before reaching down again.

“Oh look, it’s the polaroid camera.”

You scrunch up your nose, handing him a tissue to wipe the dust off.

“Why’s it there?”

“No clue. It probably rolled under the bed.”

You hum. “Ah okay, I’m gonna leave then.”

You lean towards him, hoping to quickly kiss him goodbye, but he firmly holds you in place.

“I just got an idea.”

He feels your body slump in his hold, in an attempt to plop down on the bed. You whine something halfheartedly about wanting to go home, an arm draped over your eyes for dramatic flair. He laughs inwardly at the mannerisms you’re clearly picking up from him.

“It’ll just take a minute. Come on.”

You peek at him from underneath your arm, only to see that he’s already got his eyes on you. He pulls you up with the utmost care and then holds the instant camera at arm’s length.

Noticing your confused expression, he shrugs. “What? We don’t have a polaroid picture together.”

Satisfied with his own explanation, he holds you by the chin and turns your face towards his. His lips part slightly and it finally hits you. Warmth blossoms in your chest as you press your lips against his, chin still resting between his fingers as the camera clicks. He lets you go, a smile lingering on both your faces. The whirring of the picture being printed snaps you out of your daze.

“Let it develop then I’m keeping it.” Oikawa places it on his bedside table and then starts getting up when he feels his sleeve being pulled back lightly.

“You’re keeping it? I don’t get one?”

“Do you want another picture or do you just want another kiss?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, like the mature adult he is.

You let your gaze fall to his mouth. “Maybe both.”

You tilt your face to meet his, as he pulls you in. Fingers wrap around your waistline, cold as they rest on your exposed midriff.

You can barely hear his voice over the music from the living room.

“Cute top, by the way.”

You giggle. “I knew you'd like it. So predictable.”

He huffs. You squish his cheeks between your palms before he pins your hands to the side and steals a peck. All his attention is on you and he makes sure you know that, deepening each kiss till you’re gasping for breath.

He leans back and mutters, forcing your weight to shift towards him. “I think we’ll get tired of it, if we kiss too much.”

Before he can even think about the action, his tongue subconsciously presses against the inside of his cheek. He’s having fun with this game.

You smile, the same way he does when he’s got the upperhand. The same way that tells him that he likes you a lot.

You tap the side of his cheek with your finger.

“Liar.”

The liar gets kissed, again and again. He never gets tired of it.

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