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moonstruckme · 7 months

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Olá, adorei sua escrita, peço desculpas por quaisquer erros de digitação (inglês não é minha primeira língua).

Gostaria de solicitar algo com poly!marauders reagindo a eles no meio de alguma discussão, e quando levantam a voz ou fazem alguma movimento repentino ela apenas se encolhe de medo

(só escreva se você se sentir confortável com isso, peço desculpas se for um assunto delicado)

No worries, sweetness! I worry I don't communicate this very well on my requests page, but so long as any abuse is in the past and not still happening while the story takes place, I'm totally good! Thank you so much for requesting, hope you enjoy it <3

cw: implied past abuse

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

Your face is burning hot, and you’re hoping no one can tell it’s from how hard you’re working to hold back tears.

“I’m telling you,” James says with a severity that doesn’t suit him, “they’re not good for you. You need to stop hanging around them.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” You wave him off, relieved that your voice comes out as even as it does. “They’re my friends.”

“They don’t fucking act like your friends.” Sirius is looking at you like you’re stupid, and you try not to tremble in the face of his anger. Every muscle in your body had tensed at the first show of frustration, an exasperated huff from Remus nearly ten minutes ago, and it’s only gotten worse since. You know, logically, that this situation doesn’t call for fight-or-flight, but there’s no telling your nervous system that. “They left you drunk and completely alone in the middle of the night. They’re assholes.”

“What, just because you don't like them?” You glower at Sirius from across the room, and James shakes his head disappointedly from the couch. “You don’t get to dictate who I hang out with!”

“You’re completely blind to it!”

“You’re being ridiculous!”

“That’s enough!” Remus roars, and everything else ceases to matter.

Your shoulders hunch in to protect your middle, one hand coming up in front of your face instinctively as your eyes squeeze shut.

It’s only an instant of terror, shooting through your nerves like a lightning strike, and then your heart starts beating again, now at double time. You raise your head to find Remus looking cracked open, mouth parted in silent shock and anguish.

“I’m sorry,” you say quickly, holding up your hands as if to ward off the effects of what you’ve just done. You’re trembling all over. “I’m sorry, that was—I didn’t mean to.”

“Sweetheart.” James starts to reach for you, then stops, wrapping his arms around his torso like he’ll lunge for you if not restrained. His voice is so quiet you can barely hear it over your own heartbeat. “Don’t apologize, please. Are you okay?”

You nod, fighting the urge to shake out the adrenaline still working its way through your body. “Yeah, I’m fine. I didn’t mean to react like that. It wasn’t you guys, I’m sorry.” A traitorous tear skids down your face. You brush it away.

“No.” The word sounds like it’s hooked from inside Remus’ throat and scraped forcibly out. “I shouldn’t have yelled like that. I’m so sorry.” He looks at you, eyes imploring. “Do you wanna sit down?”

“I’m fine,” you say again.

“Angel.” James’ eyebrows come together in pity. “You’re shaking all over. Come sit, we don’t have to fight anymore.”

You blow out a frustrated breath, ignoring the warm wetness on your cheeks as more tears escape. “I’m not—I don’t want to stop fighting just because of this. I feel like I’m manipulating you,” you say, tone edged with bitterness. “I’m not trying to, though. Can we just forget that happened?”

“Hey,” Sirius says, uncharacteristically firm, “stop that.” You’d been afraid to make eye contact with him before, but now you turn to find he’s looking at you like you’ve clawed his heart right out. You’re all the more miserable for it, for the pain you know you’re dredging up for him. You both have experience with raised voices and forceful gesturing. Both harbor old and unreliable notions about what those lead to, instincts you can’t shed. “You can’t manipulate us by accident, understand? You don’t always have control over reactions to things like that. Just…” His forehead creases with a helplessness you recognize. “Just take a breath.”

He waits, eyes boring into yours, until you do. It shakes on the way out, but it feels good.

“Okay. Do you want a hug?”

Your throat clogs so no words can pass through, but you nod, and Sirius steps toward you. His arms come around you slow but solid, feeling out how much you want. You press your face the juncture of his shoulder and his neck, hands clutching at his back, and he tightens his grip on you. Under your hand, you can feel his heart beating almost as desperately as yours.

Sirius doesn’t quite release you as he walks the both of you to the couch, folding you into his lap, but you pull away once your tremors ease. James looks miserable with worry, and you take his hand, squeezing reassuringly. “I didn’t mean to scare you guys,” you say. It’s as close to an apology as you expect they’ll allow you.

“Don’t worry about that,” Remus insists. “I mean it, I shouldn’t have raised my voice that way. Regardless of your history, it was uncalled for, and I’m sorry.”

You give him the best smile you can offer at the moment. “It’s okay, really.”

“You’re not manipulating anyone,” Sirius says, hand still tight around your waist, “but let’s save the rest of that conversation for another time, yeah?”

You nod reluctantly, and James gives Sirius a pleading look until he lets you go, nudging you into James' side. “I’m fine,” you insist again as he presses his lips to the top of your head, rubbing your upper arm. “Don’t worry about me.”

He scoffs lightly, kissing downward to your forehead, the tip of your nose. “I always worry about you. Nothing you can do about that.”

Some of the tension clears from Remus’ countenance as he watches you. “I agree, let’s pick that discussion back up when we all have clearer heads. Dovey, can I make you some tea?”

“I don’t need to be coddled,” you argue as James moves his attentions to your cheek.

“Oh, let him,” Sirius says, rolling his eyes, “it’ll make him feel better. You can make me some tea, Moony.”

“I’ll take some, too,” James says. “If it’ll help, of course. Actually, do we have any biscuits?”

You laugh as Remus sets off happily for the kitchen.

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gg-pedro · 3 months

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can you hear the music (ch. 3) - joel miller x reader

masterlist

summary: everyone in jackson is trying to distract themselves from something. you teach ellie piano and find yourself trying to help more than one miller settle into their new world.

chapter 3: today, it would be sarah's 34th birthday. but today, tomorrow, and every other day, joel needs you.

warnings: post outbreak!joel, jackson!era, joel x reader, AFAB!reader, platonic!ellie x reader, implied age gap, smoochin', gropin', mentions of death, joel grieves, joel sings, arguing/fighting (kinda), mental health discussions, lewdness, angst, heavy feelings (and there's more where that come from!)

words: 3.4k

a/n: man. can u tell I rewatched episode 1? i’m proud of this one. also, I hope this reaches my fleetwood mac lovers.

Joel, while in the middle of hauling a bag of horse feed over his good shoulder (and ‘good’ was being generous), realized he was getting old. This was the tenth revelation of the day, give or take. From when he forced himself out of bed onto aching joints, to when he hadn’t heard Ellie come up behind him in the kitchen, and most notably, to when he realized Sarah’s 34th birthday would’ve been today.

It didn’t sting anymore. Not after this long, not after 20 years. It didn’t even hurt.

It just ached.

He sloughed the feed into the trough, stepping back to catch his breath. He glided his hand over the pretty little mare that he usually took out. She seemed too small to not be a pony, but hey, equine standards had flown out the window 20 years ago along with everything else.

Tommy knew, too. He never forgot. Maybe that's why he patted Joel on the back at breakfast that morning and told him to go ‘take a ride’. Clear his head. They still had work to do today. The Earth never stopped spinning. Joel thought that by now, it should’ve.

To be fair, the date could’ve been a little off, but the air was that same lukewarm cold and the sun shone blinding in a clear blue sky the same way it did on the day Sarah was born. Winter was melting into a tepid spring in Wyoming, and Joel was still here to fucking see it.

For a second he wondered if his vision was going, too, having to do a double-take when he noticed you leaning against the wooden beam of the stall entrance.

“Jesus,” he mumbled. “Y’ever heard of knocking?”

You rolled your eyes. “Must’ve missed the door.”

“How’d you find me?” He asked, finally turning to really look at you. Irritatingly beautiful.

“Ellie,” you answered. “Said you were going for a joy ride.”

He sighed, coming over to wrap his arms just below the dip of your spine. “Kid couldn’t keep a secret if her fuckin’ life depended on it,” he grumbled, pausing afterwards to give you a slow kiss.

“I like the honesty. She’s got nothing to hide, especially if it has anything to do with you.” You grinned and fell right into his little ploy.

“Mmh. Lucky me.”

He had you backed against the wooden railing in an instant, his hand creeping up below your shirt and onto the soft skin of your waist. The touch raised goosebumps all over your body. You placed two hands on either side of his neck, gently, enjoying the way he was feeling you up with his lips glued to yours.

“Now? Right here?” You asked once you had the chance to break away from his mouth. “A little risky, Miller. Don’t forget, I’m still your worst kept secret,” you chided.

“No, not right here. And fuck you.” He pulled away until all but one hand was still stroking your side through your shirt.

“Likewise.”

And Joel loved you. Maybe not in the same way he loved Tommy or Ellie or Sarah, but still, he did. He loved your smart mouth, the way you blazed like a fire in bed with him, your natural talent, the way you made it all ache less.

And you did– make it ache less. That was reason enough.

He gestured to the horse that was a few feet away, still eating its breakfast. “You wanna join?”

“Can’t say no,” you said. “What’s the occasion? I thought they were strict about leaving for non-essential reasons.”

Joel was looking at you until he wasn’t, his gaze going right through you. He could tell you. He knew he could. You knew about his daughter and you still never brought it up. You’d lost people too, he knew that. He could tell you and you would bring him into your arms and say something like, I’m so sorry, Joel. I’m here. I’m here if you need me.

He would tell you. But not today.

He shrugged and pressed a kiss into your hairline. “Just another day. I want you to come.”

“Alright, then.” You nodded towards the guitar sitting in the corner of the stall. Dark stained wood around the edges fading into a lighter mahogany. It was beautiful. “Bringing that, too?”

“Yeah, why not. Here, let me help.” He grabbed it and lifted it over your head, situating it so that the body of the guitar was resting against your back. “You ever played?”

You shook your head. “No. Good thing you do.”

He brought the horse out into the open, making sure he still had everything important– a gun in his pocket and a broken watch on his wrist. He helped you up onto the saddle, sitting behind him and flush with his back.

Outside the walls, It was a beautiful day. The sun had melted away the heavy snow on the peaks of the rolling hills, the first kiss of spring. New life, grass that had started to green. You had your arms wrapped tightly around Joel’s middle, face pressed against the back of his shoulder. The fields seemed boundless. You hadn’t realized just how infinitesimally small your world had grown since being in Jackson.

“Are there usually infected around here?” You asked.

“Not really. The valley helps. We’ll stay out in the open, don’t worry, baby.”

You didn’t even have to ask. The little tour he was giving you around the east end of the fields was mostly an effort to case the surrounding area, his senses on high alert for anything dangerous. The truth was, this place was secure. Still, Joel would move mountains to keep you safe. Would do anything. He’d made mistakes in the past that he wouldn’t let happen again. Couldn’t.

After a loop around the outer wall, riding with a mixture of the horse's friendly canter and Joel intentionally speeding her up to scare the shit out of you and make you hold on tighter to him, he settled on a plateau at the top of a hill, a few steps away from the thick evergreen forest.

After helping you off the mare and spreading out the woven blanket he had rolled up on the back of the saddle, Joel sat down with a heavy sigh. You tied the lead to a low tree branch where the horse seemed content to roam. After, you pulled the guitar over your head and handed it to him.

It was still early in the day, and the sun was barely cresting over the hilltops from this view. 10:42 AM. That’s when his daughter was born. He looked down at the broken face of his watch out of habit, even though the thing had been broken for years at this point.

You dropped down next to him and your head immediately connected with his shoulder. Looking over at him, his eyes were far away and glassy. “What’re you thinking about?”

Joel shook his head and pressed a slow kiss into your forehead. “Nothin’. Just wondering what I should play.” He brought the guitar into his lap and strummed it a little, pausing to tune the top string down half a step. “Feel like I gotta impress you.”

You huffed a laugh and shook your head. “You don’t have to. Who’d you used to listen to?”

“Oh, Jesus…” he had sort of let go of the fond memories he had of old music. With you, though, he was starting to miss it. “Some Zeppelin, some Billy Joel, Pearl Jam… Nirvana was just gettin’ good, too. Lots of Chet Atkins when I was younger.”

You just smiled, moving your hand to stroke his knee. “None of that surprises me.”

“You like Fleetwood Mac?” he asked after a while. “Stevie Nicks, always one of my favorites. My daughter’s, too.”

Your heart hurt a little at that. Joel had never brought up the daughter he’d lost with you. You kissed his shoulder as he started picking the strings to the tune of Landslide, that gentle back and forth that you hadn’t heard in more than 20 years.

“That's a good one, baby.”

You still remembered the lyrics. He did, too.

I took my love, I took it down

I climbed a mountain and I turned around

And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills,

‘Til the landslide brought me down

Joel’s playing wasn’t perfect. He’d picked the guitar up again a few times in the last couple weeks, but before that, it had been a lifetime ago. On that radio station in Austin, The Best Of The ‘70’s, this one would come on all the time. Sarah would grin and sing her best rendition, as loudly as possible, always egging Joel on to join in too. Sometimes he would, but not always. He regretted that.

He thought your voice was beautiful. Clear and bright. His voice was probably an octave below yours, gravelly and out of practice. The two of you mixed together like honey into whiskey.

Oh, mirror in the sky,

What is love?

Can the child in my heart rise above?

Can I sail through the changin’ ocean tides?

Can I handle the seasons of my life?

He would’ve liked to scoff at that. There's nothing to do but handle it. Push forward and deal. He didn’t die on September 26th, 2003, despite his best efforts and no matter how much he wanted to. He was here with you. Singing with you, laughing through the verses, watching the sun light up your eyes. And for that? A part of him had to consider himself a lucky son of a bitch.

He couldn’t stop himself from wanting to make a life with you. The extent to which he could see that to fruition, he wasn’t sure. Everything was uncertain. He didn’t even deserve it. Nothing he had done over the past 20 years was worthy of you. But fuck, he could be good. If he tried, maybe, he could be good for you. And trying? It’d be worth it.

Well, I’ve been afraid of changin’

‘Cause I’ve built my life around you

But time makes you bolder

Even children get older

And I’m getting older, too

Joel had to stop singing. Tears were swelling in his dark brown eyes and one wrong move would break the entire dam of emotions. He kept playing, though, into the second chorus, happy to listen to you.

Well, I’ve been afraid of–

“Joel?”

You turned away from the landscape to look at his face. Tears were streaking his cheeks, his eyes staring straight ahead of him. You didn’t say anything– you took the guitar out of his arms and brought him into yours instead. You rubbed slow circles into his flannel-clad back, holding him tight as his shoulders sagged and shuddered with every shaky inhalation.

“I’m sorry, baby, I’m sorry," he managed to say.

“It’s okay, Joel. You’re okay. It’s just me, you know I don’t mind. I got you, come on, just get it out.”

You had your own guesses as to what was getting to him so bad. You told yourself a long time ago that you wouldn’t pry. He wouldn’t tell you like that, anyway. He had to do it himself.

After a few pregnant moments passed with the two of you like that, his breathing finally evened out enough for him to speak clearly. He pulled away from you, taking your face into his hands so you couldn’t look away. His eyes were reddened and puffy, his cheeks wet.

“I ain’t gonna let nothin’ happen to you. D’you understand that? Nothin’. I’m gonna take care of you. Keep you safe. Keep you happy.” He tucked your hair behind your ears before gliding his thumbs over the skin just below your eye. “I will. You just gotta let me.”

You gently pried his hands away from your face, taking them into your own and pressing a kiss into his knuckles. “Okay, baby. I’ll let you. I’ll let you,” you repeated. “I’m safe with you, I know.”

He pulled you in suddenly, practically squeezing all of the air out of your lungs with the grip he had on you. “I promise you. I promise.”

He promised you, and you believed him.

And if you see my reflection in the snow covered hills,

Well, the landslide bring it down

Oh, the landslide bring it down

At your lesson with Ellie, she seemed more motivated than you did. Sooner or later, she was going to exhaust the entire Star Wars: A Beginner’s Score sheet music book that you had found a few years back.

After successfully sight reading the first few bars of The Imperial March and promptly declaring that she had had enough ‘piano-ing’ for the day, Ellie gave you a look.

You furrowed your brows. “What?”

“Nothin’,” she said flippantly, looking away from you. “Just– are you and Joel, like, together?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Ellie turned, looking exasperated. “Pft. You know exactly what I mean.”

You rolled your eyes and jokingly shoved her away from you by the forehead. “We’re getting married next week, actually,” you said, laughing. “Mhm, we’re running away with each other. Gonna buy a big white house with a big picket fence down south– you know, to keep you out.”

“Oh, fuck you, dude.” She giggled too, punching your shoulder in return hard enough to push you down the piano bench. “I have a right to know! And besides, I don’t have anyone to tell. I can keep a secret.”

“I disagree, but– if you memorize your F# minor scale by Tuesday, I’ll tell you all about it. Has to be perfect, though,” you qualified.

“Fine,” she said with stubborn resolve. “And… there's one more thing.” Her eyes cast downwards and her shoulders drooped a little as she gave a long exhale.

“What is it?”

She looked back up at you through her dark lashes. “Did you hear about the guy who got hit in the head with a can of soda?”

“The– the who?”

With a completely straight face, she said, “Yeah. He’s lucky it was a soft drink.”

Ellie’s laughter could barely be heard over your exaggerated groaning. You had your head dropped into your hands and Ellie in tears when Joel walked in through the front door.

Ellie, sighing and wiping her eyes, said: “I told her the ol’ soda-can-to-the-head one. Pretty good, right?”

“Jesus…” you heard Joel mutter.

Shiny-eyed and smiling, you pointed to the door. “Out of my house. Both of you. And don’t bother coming back.”

Ellie grabbed her coat and was out the door before Joel could even open his mouth. “See you Tuesday!”

“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out!”

Later that day, in the hot and unusually busy Tipsy Bison, Joel was too drunk.

It was the perfect conclusion to the most bittersweet day he’d had in a while. Had the morning with you, finished up a roofing project just after dinner, and against his better judgment, asked if you wanted drinks. You arrived as a pair, undoubtedly eliciting new whisperings from your fellow Jackson residents, but Joel was starting not to care.

You’d mentioned going out together in passing to him after he had told you about the bar scene when he was younger, commenting on how you wished you’d gotten to experience that. And yeah, maybe this felt more like playing pretend to him than anything, but he wanted to give you good days. Good memories. A real life, where you could experience things with him and not have to worry about how long the happiness would last.

Tonight, it backfired. A year ago today, he would’ve been mixing whiskey and oxycodone to forget it was Sarah’s birthday. But now, he was too drunk with Tommy, and you were watching all of it, and he wished he still had a handful of pills to knock him out.

“She your girlfriend now, brother?” Tommy slurred, clapping him on the shoulder.

Joel grabbed you roughly by the waist from his seat at the bar, tucking you in close to him. “Yeah, she’s my girl,” he cooed. “Ain’t that right, pretty baby?”

Tommy chuckled, slamming his glass down onto the counter. “Same way Tessa was your girl? Or different this time?”

Joel wanted to be sick. “The fuck’s wrong with you, asshole?”

You, a little tipsy yourself by this point, smoothed a hand over Joel’s curls in an effort to de-escalate this conversation. “Joel, hey. He’s your brother. Don’t start a fight.”

Tommy shook his head and patted you on the arm. “It’s okay, baby, let him speak.”

Drunkenly, Joel stood up, pointing an accusatory finger at his brother. “If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be saddled with all this shit,” he started. “Always chasin’ your sorry ass. Halfway across the fuckin’ country this time. If it weren’t for you, Tess’d be here.”

This was an old argument, but they were drunk, and it seemed like the perfect time to rehash it.

Tommy stood up to meet his eyes. “Oh yeah? Really? If it weren’t for me, Joel, you’da had a bullet in your head by now. Oh, y’haven't told her? Your girl? Go on, tell her. Tell her all about Sarah. Happy fuckin’ birthday to her.”

“Keep her name out your motherfuckin’ mouth, you– bastard–”

You had your arm interlinked with Joel’s, but he flung you off of him in an instant. He swung at Tommy, but his aim was a little diluted from the gin and Tommy ducked anyway. He only got one attempt in before five different people were pulling them away from each other to opposite ends of the bar.

You followed Joel, thanking the two men who were restraining him as he shouted strings of profanities and nobody, assuring them that you could take it from here.

“Joel, you gotta calm down. Hey. Hey, Miller, I’m fucking talking to you.” You grabbed his face in your hands and forced him to look at you. “Take a breath. Just take a breath.”

He did as he was told, but his eyes were still darting rapidly around the room. “Tommy…” he breathed out. “Fuck. I didn’t mean to, I swear. Did I hurt him? I hurt him, didn’t I?”

“No, baby. You– uh, you missed.”

“Ah, fuck.”

Maybe narcotics wouldn’t have fixed this, either.

Joel let you drag him back to your place without putting up much of a fight. Sarah. She would’ve been ashamed of him. There was a mounting list of things that Sarah would’ve hated him for, and this was just the icing on the cake.

Back on your couch, lying on his back, he wanted today to be over.

“I was s’pposed to be doin’ good for you,” he said quietly. “Bein’ better for you.”

“What are you talking about?” You asked, your voice straining with the force it took to tug off his left boot.

“I’m no good for you.”

“Joel–”

“I ain’t, babydoll. I ain’t. Not for you, not for Ellie, not for Tommy, not for Tessa, and not for Sarah,” he mumbled. “It’s her birthday.”

“I know.”

“I miss her,” he swallowed. “Real bad.”

“I know, Joel.”

There was a lump in his throat and a tightness in his chest. Landslide was still stuck in his head.

… saw my reflection… snow covered hills …

He shut his eyes. “Is Ellie alright?”

“Mhm. She’s asleep down the street,” you said, tracing lazy shapes into his stomach.

“She’s a good kid,” he mumbled. “Tough kid.”

“She is,” you agreed. “She relies on you– cares about you. Lots of people care about you.”

… time makes y’bolder, children get… older …

Joel hummed in response. “I still need you.”

… I’m gettin’ older, too …

You bit your lip. You should really get back up, make sure Joel had a glass of water and painkillers near him for when he woke up. Maybe even a bowl from the kitchen. But your body felt like it was being weighed down by lead, and the infrequency at which you actually drank alcohol was making you unfathomably tired.

You laid down on top of him, head pressed against his chest. His breathing was slow and even and his heart rate was calm.

“I need you, too.”

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indigoflorals · 1 year

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teenage fever (18+)

JJ Maybank x Reader

You meet a stranger at a costume party.

Warnings: Unprotected sex, hair pulling, costumes, masks, crying, mentions of drugs and alcohol,

꧁༺ ༻꧂

“C’mon girl, you look so hot let’s just have fun!”

You still could not believe your friends had talked you into this. Loud music, alcohol, and so many people.

It was safe to say parties like this weren’t your regular scene. Especially one of this nature.

Your fishnets clung tightly to your thighs, and you adjusted them frequently. You felt like a dressed up doll in too much makeup.

Your friends had convinced you that every girl wore sexy costumes to these kinds of parties. You would have been happy wearing a onesie, but here you stood, breasts pushing out of your corset.

A bunny.

Red solo cup in hand, you tried your best to mingle as your friends wandered off without you. You felt stiff, every movement daring to expose parts of you that had never been so public before.

“Do you want my jacket?”

A voice pulled you out of your own thoughts, and you turned to meet a stranger dressed as a pirate. His outfit was clearly homemade, pulled together with things he had owned for years. And yet, you found it charming. His eyes and nose were covered by a masquerade style mask, and you didn’t recognize him.

“You look like you wanna cover up. That’s not to say you don’t look great! I just—" The blond pirate laughed at his own flustered response, and you giggled quietly into your solo cup. “You just look uncomfortable.”

You nodded, reassuring him that you understood what he had really meant. “No, you’re right. Parties like this aren’t really my thing and,” You gestured to your outfit, “neither is dressing quite like this.”

He flashed a smile at your response, shrugging off his jacket. Your eyes fixated on the toned arms that were hidden underneath. Only in a cutoff shirt now, you could see every flex.

“My eyes are up here.”

A blush crept across your face as you realized you had been caught staring.

The party raged on all sides of you, but you were only focused on the masked stranger in front of you.

He placed his jacket over your shoulders, and it was very clearly oversized on you. You snuggled into it, embracing your new found feeling of warmth and no longer feeling so nude.

“Thank you.” You smiled, noticing his eyes now were on you intently.

“Think you look even better like this, y’know,” His eyes scanned you up and down, now dressed in his jacket. “In my clothes.”

You giggled again, face now definitely red. “I don’t even know you.”

“Do you want to get to know me?”

———

So if your friends were to ask, that was how you ended up underneath a pirate in the back of his van.

You followed him excitedly outside, deciding that tonight was the night that you’d finally take some risks.

“This is my friends van. He’d kill me if he knew what we’re about to do in it.” The blond laughed, sliding the door open and helping you inside.

You recognized the van, definitely, but couldn’t put your finger on who it belonged to.

In an instant the door was closed and his lips were on yours. His lips were soft, and he tasted like hints of weed and the alcohol you had shared previously.

You pulled away, tapping on the mask that still covered the upper part of his face.

“Oh shit, yeah, forgot I even had this on.”

He untied the string in the back, and the mask fell from his face. You now could take in his facial features, bright blue eyes much more visible.

Wait.

“Aren’t you John B’s friend?”

He half snorted at your question, and you swatted his arm.

“Well, this is his van.”

That’s where you knew it from. You had seen John B and the rest of his friends plenty of times, but had never really taken the time to introduce yourself.

“I’m JJ,” He shook your hand with a small smile, “But maybe I should’ve said that before I tried to hook up with you in the back of this van.”

You both laughed, lips meeting each other yet again. His hands explored the expanse of your body. You were only in your tiny tight corset top and shorts, having shed the jacket he had loaned you.

“I almost don’t want to take any of this off you look so good.”

You shushed him, finding the confidence to pull your shorts down.

He leaned back into the car seat, and you were straddling him now. Only in your panties from the waist down, bunny ears still atop your head.

“Jesus. I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

You shushed him again by pulling him into a sloppy kiss, your tongue meeting his.

He moaned into your mouth, hands gripping your ass. You could feel his hard on underneath you, straining against his jeans.

You pulled away, a trail of saliva in your wake. His eyes met yours, blown wide with lust at your figure in front of him.

“This is torture,” He groaned, bucking his hips up into you. “I gotta take my jeans off.”

“Let me.”

You slid off of his lap, now knelt between his legs. The blond let out a guttural groan at the site of you there, breasts protruding from your top and your fiddled with the zipper of his jeans.

He lifted his hips to aid you in sliding his jeans down, and you pulled them off of each ankle.

Now only in his boxers, you could see the evident wet spot at the tip. “Fuck, don’t just stare.”

You locked eyes with him as you palmed his still clothed cock. He melted into the seat at the feeling of your small hands on him.

“I cant do the teasing. I hate teasing.” He begged.

You giggled, pulling his cock out of his boxers in one swift motion. He breathed out heavily through his nose, attempted to ground himself.

You leaned forward, applying soft kitten licks to the tip before taking it in your mouth.

“Holy fuck.” His knuckles were white from gripping the car seat, desperate not to push forward into your mouth.

Your swirled your tongue around his tip while jerking him off, cupping his balls with your free hand. You relished in the sounds he made. Moans free and unabashed for you to hear.

JJ fisted your hair, pulling you off in an instant with a quiet ‘pop’ sound.

Your eyes met his, face flooded with confusion. “Was I bad?”

“Oh my god, no” He sighed, cock now throbbing at the loss of contact, “Way too good.”

You mouth an ‘Oh’, and you both proceeded to laugh.

“Now get up here, I want you to feel good too.”

Your slid your panties down, and he groaned at the site of your pussy in front of him. You climbed back into his lap, and could feel his tip poking at your entrance.

He gave you a questioning look to see if you were ready, but you were already one step ahead, sinking yourself down onto him.

You moaned in unison. His hips bucking up into you. Fingers sinking into his biceps, you were sure you would leave marks.

He was whining now at the feeling of you bouncing up and down on his cock, too blissed out to even talk.

“Not so talkative now, huh?” You grinned, dropping yourself down onto him hard. You moaned involuntarily, but his reaction was better.

The blond was completely fucked out. Hair disheveled, cheeks dusted pink and lips formed into an ‘o’ shape.

“So good, so fucking good.” He moaned eagerly, taking a handful of your ass and assisting you in your bouncing.

He was thick, and you knew you wouldn’t last long. His cock rubbed all the places inside of you that you could never reach on your own. Pleased you in a way no one had before.

You leaned forward into his shoulder, and he took this as a cue to take more control. One hand on your lower back, the other snaked around your waist for support.

He had you in his grasp now, and he bounced you like you were weightless.

Your moans reached a new loud, wanton and needing. His grunting was practically feral in your ear as he fucked you with fervor.

“Close, so close, JJ.” You cried out to him, nails digging into his shoulders.

He slid a hand to your clit, thumbing it, and that was it for you. You sobbed into his shoulder, clenching around him.

He held on for the length of your orgasm, but not a second longer. Pulling you off of him, he came with a groan, painting both of your stomachs with his cum.

You slumped into him, stickiness apparent, but it didn’t bother you.

“Do you have anywhere else to be tonight? Wanna take you out like I should’ve before we did this.”

“Trust me, my friends are long gone at this point. I need something to do.” You smiled, placing a light kiss on his neck.

He mumbled soft words into your ear, rubbing the back of your head. Soon you would have to get cleaned up, but for right now you would enjoy the company of your new favorite stranger.

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jigsawgirlie · 4 months

Text

okay to be vulnerable

(fluff!johnny joestar x reader)

(authors note)

spoiler warning if you haven’t gotten at least halfway through sbr; also is the jojo fandom even still alive on here?? there’s a severe lack of johnny fluff and your girl is here to deliver.

Gyro had been asleep for the past hour; not a sound stirred from his dormant tent. You and Johnny sat by the small fire Gyro had started prior to slumping down and snoring like a bear.

You and Johnny were quiet. The silence was not awkward, nor was it deafening, it was merely silence. The mosquitos surrounding you both creating small stirs in the mostly quiet night.

Staring briefly at Johnny you watched as his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, staring at the embers as they burned. The expression on his face was blank, and filled with thoughts. You tilted your head, silently memorizing all of his features. If you live to see the day all of this mess is over with you pray you’ll remember just how ethereal he looks right now.

Idiotically, you must of made your staring too obvious. Shifting his gaze Johnny noticed your staring. “Is something wrong?” He asked, facing towards you. You ignore his question, instead prompting one for him, “What are you thinking about?”

He’s surprised by your question - that much is evident in his body language. He stares for a moment before scratching his forearm and staring into the fire once more.

You sigh, disappointed he didn’t want to further conversate with you. Perhaps it was still too soon for him to have garnered your trust.

Nearly accepting defeat you walk away, stopping at your tent and looking once at Johnny. You stare as he sits uncomfortably, swatting at mosquitos and holding his body close to himself.

An idea pops into your head. Trusting your intuition, you grab a small blanket left near your belongings. Begrudgingly, you walked quietly back towards Johnny, holding the woolen blanket in your arms.

You make your presence known to Johnny, squatting down close to him. His focus is now entirely onto you, and the close proximity between the two of you.

You smile softly, and give him a look with your eyes, one that begs for trust. When his eyes soften, you smile gently. Carefully you place the blanket around his shoulders. He stares at you in disbelief, blue eyes carefully examining your features.

Before turning to leave you gently lean down, whispering in his ear. “Its okay to be vulnerable Johnny.” You give him one more gentle smile before wishing him a goodnight and walking away.

You leave, not looking back. You’re about halfway to your tent when you hear a weak voice call out for you.

Surprised, you turn around. Johnny is facing your direction, his upper body completely turned towards you. His right arm is raised, reaching out to you. “Johnny?” You call, walking back over to him.

You sit down once more, this time closer to him. He doesn’t make eye contact, instead scrunching his face in concentration. He tries desperately to find the words, afraid you’ll leave him if he can’t speak up.

Gently (and hesitantly) you place your hand on top of his. He finally makes eye contact with you; your eyes are soft and you have a slight smile on your face. In that instant Johnny felt more reassured than he had in his entire life.

He takes in a breath, “I don’t mean to be distant. I want to be there for you and Gyro, don’t get me wrong. I’m just scared.” You give him a second to continue speaking if he desires, and when he doesn’t you do. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

He nods. His heart feels like its beating a million times a second, and the lump in his throat is painful. “I never thought I would make something of myself after the accident” He gestures to his legs, “Now I’m here, and I have this ability. I want to be someone again. I want to find the corpse parts and find myself again. I can’t go back to my miserable self.” His voice cracks and his eyes are filled with sadness and fear.

It’s hard to search for the right thing to say. You open your mouth but no words come out, scared to say something wrong. Johnny looks at you; his eyes beg for you to say something. “I like to think once we hit rock bottom, there’s only one way to go - up.” You stop and take a breath before continuing, “You’ve been through hell, we all have. Maybe it’s the meaning of why we’re all here in the first place, I don’t know. What I know for sure is you aren’t who you used to be anymore. You don’t have to live in fear Johnny. Plus you have Gyro and me now.”

Johnny is astonished by what you’ve said. His mouth left slightly agape as he stares at you. You refrain from eye contact, afraid to look at him. You two sit in silence once again for a beat, unsure of who will break the silence first. Johnny folds, “I’ll be strong. I’ll find the corpse parts and stop Funny Valentine with everything that I have. I promise that to you and Gyro. From the bottom of my heart.”

You look back at him this time, your faces nearly touching. His eyes are filled with determination and his expression is stoic. You stare at his lips, then back up to his eyes. Both leaning in, your lips just nearly graze his before you pull away.

“I know you will Johnny. I know.” Is what you say instead. You smile brightly, staring at him with admiration. Johnny is left speechless, wanting to feel your lips pressed against his desperately.

You stand up and leave, heading towards your tent once more, succumbing to your exhaustion. Perhaps another night you’ll get a moment alone with Johnny. Maybe then you’ll have the courage to show him how you feel about him using your lips.

(authors note)

writing this , i mentioned mosquitoes then remembered johnnys fetish he mentioned to gyro. *thousand yard stare*

#jjba #jojos bizarre adventure #steel ball run #johnny joestar #part 7 jojo #jjba part 7 #johnny joestar x reader #johnny joestar x you #jjba imagines #fluff #jjba x reader #jjba x you #jjba x y/n

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lifewtr · 19 days

Text

Until Then (Sometimes).

1. “Alright,” he says evenly, shifting his focus. The answer to him is as simple as it’s always been: if Gojo is having trouble with his control, then Kento will merely—adoringly—strip him of it.

He runs his hand down the side of Gojo’s neck and across his shoulder, down his arm until their fingers touch. He watches raptly as the line of tension in Gojo’s frame evaporates by the fraction under the light caress, smirking inwardly at the notion all the while. “Alright,” Kento says again, tugging at Gojo until they are standing chest to chest, “you can plan their funerals later, Gojo-san. Right now you’re with me,” Kento leans into the man’s space, lids lowering as he delicately plucks the shades from the bridge of Gojo’s nose and hooks them over the collar of his own shirt. “You’re with me, and the only thing you need to worry about is what you need and how you need it.” He very pointedly drops his octave, leaving little to no room for argument. “Understood?”

Snowy lashes flutter in the kitchen’s dim, warm lighting. Gojo lets out a full body sigh and tilts forward, burying his face into Kento’s shoulder.

Something like ‘lifesaver’ gets muttered into the fabric of his shirt, but he can’t be sure. “Thank you, Kento.” Gojo says clearly in the second after, snaking his arms lazily around Kento’s shoulders. He hums when Kento absently returns the easy embrace.

“Don’t thank me yet, Satoru.” Kento murmurs in his ear. He privately delights in the hitch of breath that Gojo’s given name earns him, endlessly prideful at how little it truly takes to turn this man into putty in his hands.

Now if only Gojo would let himself into his hands without the protracted pretense of just stress relief..

In his hold, Gojo squirms just the tiniest bit, his impatience starting to crop up once again. Kento squeezes briefly at the man’s hip, a silent and anchoring gesture that instantly stills him. “How about you go and get comfortable for me, hm?” He noses at the shell of Gojo’s ear. “Shower. Take your time with it. I’ll join you in a minute, I still want to finish up here.”

“Hn’kay,” comes the instant reply, only Gojo doesn’t move and Kento can’t really be bothered enough about having his commands ignored when it results in Gojo melting further into his arms and burrowing further into the crook of his neck with a questing little hum, fleeting little kisses, and his large, warm hands soothing up his sides.

The corner of Kento’s mouth flickers upward, his silent pride starting to leak outwards in the beginnings of a small, endeared smile that he’s glad Gojo is too occupied to see.

“Gojo..” he nudges him gently, fighting down a shiver when the next little kiss is followed by a soft, barely there scrape of teeth.

“Just a second. Just...” Gojo sighs and snuggles even closer. How he manages to get his enormous stature to become so small in Kento’s hold will always remain a mystery. “Just lemme hang out here for a second,” he mutters, almost petulant, “I need—”

Kento inhales shortly at the words, his body gaining that magic thrum that they never fail to send buzzing through his body. “What do you need?”

“This.” Gojo says, melting a little more. “I just need this for a while.”

Kento doesn’t know how he can possibly say no to that, so he doesn’t. He starts to settle in instead; gets a firm grip under one of Gojo’s magnificent thighs and hoists it over his hip so that the only thing really separating them is their clothes.

“Mmph. Yeah. Can we do this laying down? I wanna lay down.” Gojo lets out a heavy sigh and nuzzles at Kento’s neck again, his arms tightening another fraction. “Please?”

Right then. To hell with the dishes.

Full chapter on AO3 →

#nanago #gonana #gojo satoru x nanami kento #nanami kento x gojo satoru #this is that thing i was talking about #it's RATED E so. y'know #at your own discretion lol #nanami kento #gojo satoru #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #gojo doesn't wanna think and nanami says 'i can fix that'#bottom gojo #jsyk ;)#***#nanago fic

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mayajadewrites · 5 months

Text

Stained Red - Chapter Seven

Unexpected

The next morning, your walk to the office felt different. You didn't want up to any texts from Matt, you didn't know if he would be in the office this morning.

You stick to your usual routine though, and stop by Birch's Coffee for your usual iced latte.

Your scarf was covering your face, the harsh morning hair irritating your skin. Your eyes were glued to your phone, trying to get your mind off of Matthew.

As you walk into the coffee shop, you hear someone say your name.

Finally looking up from your phone, you swear you see a ghost. There's no way this man was in front of you right now.

He repeated your name, walking towards you.

"Mason?" Your eyes follow his movement. "I - when - why are you here?"

"I didn't know I had to let you know when I came back to Hell's Kitchen." Mason smiled, sipping his hot latte. "I'm not surprised I found you here, though."

Mason was, well, who you thought was the love of your life. You thought you were going to marry him, have the nice house, white picket fence, and all the children.

Until he randomly broke up with you one day and your entire world shattered within an instant.

"I'm sorry, but seriously - when did you come back?"

"A couple of days ago. I got a new job and they just so happen to be located in Manhattan. So here I am." Mason extended his arms, smiling.

He is your "picture perfect" man. Brown hair, tan skin, brown eyes, muscular, smart, and usually kind.

Mason has commitment issues, though.

The feelings you've kept at the bottom of your stomach resurfaced as anxiety. You really thought that this man was your endgame.

"Do you wanna sit for a little? I have about 45 minutes before I have to head to work." Mason smiled, gesturing towards a small table.

Against your better judgement, you said yes.

"I read your latest novel. I've actually read all of them." Mason smiled, sipping his hot latte. "You're only getting better and better."

"Thank you. I'm working on my latest piece now, though I'm having trouble starting it up."

The way Mason makes you feel is so different from how Matt makes you feel. Matt feels comforting, safe, and like home. Except right now Matt doesn't feel like any of those things. You don't even know when the next time you'll speak to Matt will be.

Mason makes you feel young again. Spontaneous.

You and Mason chatted for about a half hour before you decided to cut it short and start heading to the office. Your iced latte was finished, but you wanted another one anyway.

"Let me buy you your latte. I know you're thinking about getting another. You espresso-fiend." Mason smiled, grabbing your cup and swiftly throwing it in the trash. Without an answer from you, he went to the counter and ordered your usual.

One thing about Mason is that he knows you like the back of his hand. To be expected after years together, but knowing he has seen every crevice of your body, knows all your emotions, and can read your face like a book - leaves you feeling unsettled.

"Thanks, Mace." You smile, grabbing the drink from his hands. Your fingertips gently brushed along each other and you swore you saw sparks.

"Do you still have the same number?" Mason pulled his phone out of his pocket.

"I do. You know I hate change."

"Perfect, have a good day today. Try to get some writing done." And Mason was gone.

Upon your arrival at the office, you see a note taped to your door.

I miss you.

You took the note down and unlocked the door to your office, throwing the note in the garbage.

One thing about you is you do not make the first move. The first real move.

A note? What are we in high school?"

You wanted Matt to be waiting at your office door was white roses and an apology.

But you just got... a note.

As you were in the midst of a writing storm, your phone buzzed.

Mason: Working hard or hardly working?

You: You're interrupting my writing. So, working hard.

Mason: Good girl.

Fuck.

Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as you flipped your phone over, pushing it to the end of the table.

Buzz.

Mason: It was a delight seeing you this morning. I've missed seeing your bright eyes first thing.

You: You're ok too, I guess.

This was always the dynamic with you and Mason. He is very good at showing his emotions since he wears them on his sleeve.

However, you - not so much. You would much rather show your feelings with actions. Even though you're an author, words sometimes don't work for you.

Matt says you have a way with words, but you don't know if you believe him.

Matt.

Matthew Murdock.

I wonder what he's doing right now.

#daredevil born again #daredevil x reader #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #daredevil #charlie cox #charlie cox x reader #marvel #mcu #foggy nelson #karen page #the defenders #matt murdock fanfic

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amaranthine-enihtnarama · 2 years

Text

Peas in a Pod! (Broly x Male! Saiyan! Reader)

another fun and cute one. you’re welcome 😉 sorry I didn’t add fusing, I’mm not a responsible dragonball fan and haven’t seen potara fusion yet 🙃 hopefully cuddly Broly makes up for it 😙

(tall n’ gentle + short and feral; established relationship; fluff)

“Hell yeah, I wanna try it!”

Y/N nudged Broly with an eager grin, trying to encourage him to agree, but the larger Sayian didn’t seem remotely convinced. He gave Goku an uncertain look.

“Sounds dangerous.”

“Sounds awesome,” Y/N corrected, “Do you know how badass we’d look out there, pummeling jerks left and right? Earrings aside.”

Broly shook his head, even more sure than before.

“You could get hurt. One of us could lose control.”

“Well yeah,” Y/N said, giving him a deadpan look, “That’s kinda the point. Us fused and going all berserk would be, like, the ultimate trump card! We’d crush anybody in our path! Frieza wouldn’t even think of coming near you!”

Broly placed a hand on Y/N’s head to stop his excited bouncing.

“No.”

Y/N frowned in annoyance, but then relented with a sigh, pushing Broly’s hand off of his head.

“Ugh, fine. You’re right. We’d probably destroy Vampa or any other planet we were on anyways.”

“Well, actually,” Goku interjected, holding the green orbs up again, “If the fusion gets too powerful, you’d separate. And if things get really hairy, Vegeta and I can probably handle it again.”

Broly frowned slightly at the memory as Goku chuckled.

“Or we’ll just instant transmission. Or try to call Whis…okay, maybe it’s not the best idea.”

Broly nodded in satisfaction, walking away and sitting back down in the grass. Y/N crossed his arms, eyeing him as he meditated. Ever since Broly saw Vegeta do it, he’d been meditating every chance he got, although Y/N suspected he had fallen asleep a few times.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get him to come around,” he boldly proclaimed, dark eyes narrowing.

Goku glanced between the two uneasily, thinking of the last time their wills had clashed. They didn’t need to get kicked out by Lord Beerus before they had a place to go.

“Just try not to break any of Lord Beerus’s planets again, okay?”

Y/N nodded, going over to Broly and sitting down next to him, taking his hand. Broly hummed, pulling it into his lap and cradling it between his palms gently, engulfing the smaller Saiyan’s hand. Y/N blushed slightly from the gesture as he always did, hoping Goku didn’t see. He had a reputation to uphold, after all.

“Okay, I’m gonna leave the earrings with you guys, okay?”

Y/N jumped as Goku appeared in front of them, fingers on his forehead. He tossed him the potara earrings, and a few senzu beans. Y/N caught them both, his blush having grown.

“Just in case,” Goku explained, briefly glancing at their hands and giving Y/N a broad grin, “Seeya!”

Goku disappeared, returning to Earth and leaving the two men in silence. Shoulders relaxing, Y/N dropped his head. Broly wordlessly tilted Y/N’s head to rest on his shoulder. He allowed it, closing his eyes and leaning against his mate.

“You know, I’m pretty close to getting control of Legendary Super Saiyan. Closer than you, at least.”

“Hm.”

“If I get control of it, I’d be strong enough to stop you from going crazy on everything. And you’re getting there, too; it’s not as uncontrollable as you think.”

Broly sighed with a hint of exasperation. “It’s not safe enough yet. We still have to wait.”

Y/N opened his eyes, looking up at Broly with concern.

“But don’t you miss home? Don’t you want to go back? Or see Earth?”

Broly didn’t answer, inspiring Y/N to continue his appeal.

“I’d have to train harder but I’m sure if I go hard enough at it, I’ll be able to remain myself in my Legendary form and we’ll be able to go anywhere—everywhere! We’ll be able to do anything, we’ll—“

Broly gently squeezed his hand, causing Y/N to fall silent. He looked to him, scanning his tanned, composed face. He could remember the first day he saw that face; the unsure purse of his lips, the curious darting of his ink black gaze, the perpetual furrow of his brow. He’d grown more peaceful during his time on Beerus’s Planet, Y/N reflected. He hoped he was adding to that peace, too. As if he’d heard his thoughts, Broly spoke softly.

“There’s no rush. We can wait.”

Y/N frowned slightly. “But…wouldn’t you be happier back home?”

He grinned, squeezing Broly’s bicep. “What about Ba? Don’t you miss him?”

“Ba can wait.”

Y/N’s eyebrows rose in shock. He really thought that’d get him.

“As long as you’re with me, any place is home.”

Y/N’s heart jumped as Broly looked at him with a fond smile.

“We’ll train until we’re ready, and then we can take the earrings and go back to Ba.”

“Uh…are you sure?”

Broly suddenly took Y/N in his arms, sitting him on his lap and engulfing him in his large, muscle-bound arms. He rested his head atop his.

“I am happiest when I have you. Nothing else matters.”

Y/N broke out into a furious blush, heart singing at Broly’s words. He placed a hand on one of Broly’s arms, relishing his warmth. He allowed the smile that trying to form take over his face.

“You keep acting like this, you’re gonna make me go soft. How am I supposed to protect you from Frieza’s men like that?”

Broly laughed softly, then held his mate tighter. “I love you.”

Y/N rested in Broly’s embrace, leaning into the heartbeat that was thumping gently against his back.

“I love you too, softie.”

#amaranthine_enihtnarama #my wriitng #dbs broly x reader #fic request #male y/n #for the gowrls and the gays 😍#this one looks to professional I’m blushhingg #*so professional #SoundCloud

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mrssimply · 1 year

Text

Two snakes in a bed

Eh, it's WIP wednesday again! I just finished the second installment of my John Wick fic (the first is still under beta reading). In that fic, John didn't kill Santino at the end of the second one.

Then, chapter 4 introduced Vincent Bisset de Gramont, and my mind went "what if he and Santino fucked, like, angrily?" and here we are!

The fic is mainly Santino/John but I couldn't resist so here is a little snippet.

The snippet is T rated.

Fingertips brushed each knob of Santino’s spine, starting from the top of his ass to his neck. The hand was a bit cold, the fingers long and delicate, the pressure just right.

“Wake up, Santino,” was whispered in his ear and the dream always ended here. The voice was all wrong.

The sleeping man opened light green eyes and blinked when the late morning light hit his retinas. He groaned, muzzled into the pillow and heard a chuckle behind him.

Lips followed the same path as the fingers and soon, a warm and heavy body covered Santino’s.

Vincent was massive, even taller than John, who already had a few inches on him. Santino hated having to look up at him, something the French crime lord knew and enjoyed.

“Fuck off,” he grumbled in neapolitan. Vincent De Gramont chuckled again. He didn’t speak the dialect, but didn’t need to: the sentiment was strong enough.

He moved aside and went back to stroking Santino’s skin.

“I could eat you,” Vincent said, “you look like a pain au chocolat. You Italians tan well.”

Santino sighed and rolled his eyes before turning to face the man. Rekindling old friendships had worked a little bit too well in the Camorra leader’s opinion. To his defense, it had been a rough year and Vincent had been an easy distraction.

Painful enough to chase another kind of pain and crazy enough to make him feel almost sane.

Vincent’s green eyes were shining with mirth, an expression that could turn into cold viciousness in an instant. It made Santino’s blood sing, a sick thrill running down his spine to know how unpredictable his bed partner could be. He smiled, an ugly expression like a taunt for violence.

The man responded in kind and leaned in for a kiss that turned into a battle as Santino bit him. By the time Vincent released his hold around his throat, Santino was panting, and tasting copper from the other man’s mouth.

The Marquis licked his bloody lips with a satisfied expression, eyes roaming over his companion’s lithe form sprawled on his bed. His gaze darkened when Santino stretched, giving him an unwilling show. The Italian hissed when his muscles twitched: he was sore everywhere.

“You know,” Vincent said, head propped on his fist, “I think we should reinforce our partnership, you and I.”

Santino stiffened and glanced at him suspiciously, but the man was still smiling.

“What, fucking three time a week not enough for you?”

“You wound me, we’re past just fucking, Tino,” Vincent replied in french, smile twisting ironically. The Italian mob boss scowled: he hated being called that. It was an ersatz of his past, a throwback to innocent times he didn't like to dwell on. Unfortunately, he also knew asking Vincent to stop would produce opposite results.

“And I wasn’t talking about that. I was talking about our empires,” De Gramont went on, making a wide gesture that probably encompassed all of Versailles in his mind.

Santino rolled his eyes and extended his arm to take his pack of cigarettes on the side table. Before he could, Vincent straddled him and grabbed his wrist tightly.

“I don’t like that you smoke.”

“And I don’t fucking care, release me.”

They glared at each other in a stalemate before Vincent relaxed his hold and gave him a wink.

“Fine, you wanna die like your father? Be my guest. I guess it makes you feel closer to daddy.”

Santino laughed and pulled a stick out of the pack, lighting it while looking at his ‘friend” warilly, assessing the threat.

“So?” he prompted, blowing the smoke right in Vincent’s face.

“I think we should get married,” the man declared, dissipating the smoke with a lazy hand.

Santino gave him a long look.

“You make no sense in the morning,” he mumbled, sitting up with a grunt. He pulled the covers off him and leaned to put the ash of his cigarette in the small ashtray by the bedside. Vincent hated when he smoked, but he hated cinder in his satin sheets even more.

“What, I’m serious. We could have the whole supply chain between the two of us. Imagine what we could do with that.”

Santino got up with a wince, feeling various aches deep into his body, and went to the full mirror by the dressing. Putting the smoke between his lips he traced the marks left on his body while he mused about the similarity of their minds. In another life, they might have conquered the world. As it was, Santino wanted to kill him sooner rather than later, and felt a wicked kind of joy imagining that when Vincent fucked him.

“We don’t have to get married for that, you can just hand over your part.”

Vincent snorted, a stupid sound like a donkey.

“Sure, Tino.”

He got up too, and closed his arms around his childhood friend.

“If I give you the French Connection, you’ll just disappear, and I really want to keep you.”

Pulling out of his arms without a word, Santino went to the adjacent bathroom, hearing Vincent sigh mournfully behind him.

#I love writing so much. I have so much power #I can do whatever I want and nobody can stop me #insert evil laughter #John wick #santino d'antonio #vincent de gramont #Santino x Vincent #John Wick x Santino d'antonio #John x Santino

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vermillioncrown · 1 year

Note

✨ 👀 🤲

something something flattery gets you everywhere lol

�� Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉

uh... i have a very strong and distinct narrative voice. i think that translates into clear delineations between character voices in my fics

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

so, i don't have a definitive new wip and want to work on what i currently have. but! i was planning talks w @rozaceous to maybe think of a short multi-chapter naruto oc. very two-kids-in-a-trench-coat vibe.

hm... i guess it counts... there are a bunch of what-ifs one shots for ball is life. that's where i was practicing writing stuff. yknow 😏

🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

(uuggghhh... so a lot of the 'later' stuff i have is either too far ahead and will be extreme spoilers, or are too far ahead and are now outdated... and i don't wanna give false promises)

so here's something from dream before daybreak ch 20

"Our last duel ended in a draw," Wei Wuxian called out in a singsong tone. "We should add incentives for this bout!"

I ignored him to stretch out my shoulders. Cultivation or not, it was still best to be gentle with my rotator cuffs.

"Let me call you by 'Zhu Lin' if I win - that is your birth name, right?"

The fucking audacity of it all had me turn my full attention back to him, stretching neglected. "Stakes should carry equal value. This one wants nothing that Wei-Gongzi can offer."

"Zhu Yunxun is known for his strict observance of propriety… among his peers, at least," Wei Wuxian said with mocking. "What if I offer 'Wei Ying' in return?"

"An unnecessary gesture."

"Ha, that's what Lan Zhan said at first, and yet the indomitable Second Jade of Lan was worn down." Wei Wuxian's cheeriness was endless. "If it is like that with Lan Zhan, then surely we're as close as that?"

What even was 'that'? In front of all my fellow sect disciples and honored master, you allude to a 'that'?

All the Shuangfeng kids were watching like vultures, and Hou-Shifu's earlier smile turned back to his normal sweaty grimace. And yet, here Wei Wuxian stood, with shamelessness that could only be topped if he stripped naked.

"At least, I'd like to think so," he continued, grin dialed back to a winsome smile.

My whole back itched as I turned away to position myself at a distance. He took my ready stance as a confirmation and readied himself.

Hou-Shifu waved off our start.

Like I said since my journeyman trip, Wei Wuxian didn't know how to fight hand-to-hand beyond messy brawling. Predictable, over- and under-committing in all the wrong ways and at the same time. Maybe it'd be nice to take this singular moment, this one fated chance, to deck the protagonist as hard as I could in the throat.

(… fuck, it was tempting.)

He stepped in and feinted a cross, hoping to take initiative. There have been enough punches thrown my way in this second life that I moved forward to avoid his attack, using his arm to guide me in rather than retreat with instinctive caution.

Then an automatic hook, swinging wide and already past my arm because of positioning, what would be a tight follow-up if not for his lost feint -

Wei Wuxian's wide-eyed look, as he tumbled over my feet from his fist being pulled forward, didn't bring me as much joy as I thought it would. It was like that instant you overeat an indulgent dessert - immediate loss of appeal and appetite.

My hand pulling him switched to stopping his collapse towards me with a forearm. The jab to the throat lost form and resulted in a flick across his Adam's apple with the back of my index and middle fingers. It would, at the very least, feel weird and annoying even if harmless.

For once, Wei Wuxian didn't need someone to call him off. He nearly tripped backwards, rubbing at his throat and coughing. "… then, this would happen to be the area of expertise for the Yenan-Gongzi," he said, looking ungratefully wide-eyed and doleful.

#inquiry #Anonymous #verm ask game #fanfic #on dbd

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achtung-attitude · 6 months

Text

CHAPTER 84: Achtung Attitude - Part 2

T’onga gasps. The pressure in her bleeding side suddenly lifts and she collapses to her knees. At last released from LONELY BOY’s power, she murmurs, “Ae-jeong… she…” Still clutching her lacerated side, she tries to stem the flow of her blood. Having already lost so much blood, her head is muddled. She stumbles her way through the mansion’s shattered ruin in search of something to help her. As she goes, someone approaches.

T’onga turns at once, weakly manifesting HOUSE OF PAIN to confront them. But rather than a would-be murderer, she lays eyes on Jerome with his hands in the air. “Whoa, whoa, it’s me! Relax!” he exclaims.

The former assassin blinks. “Wha-? C-King?! What the h- What are you doing here?”

“What am I-? I… I came to help. A-after the house came down, I didn’t know what was going on! I saw that All-Kill dude walkin’ on air n’ shit, and… and-!”

“Hey…” T’onga says.

Jerome continues. “W-When I saw him, I… I aimed my piece at him, but he didn’t…! I wasn’t even worth killing, so…!”

“Hey, listen-”

“But I got him in the end, God damn it!! HA!! I hit that motherfucker with a car!!!”

“C-King!!”

The rapper shudders. “W-what? I… I’m sorry, I don’t-”

“It’s cool,” T’onga says, “I’m actually glad to see you.”

“Y-You are…?”

“Yes,” she grunts, sinking painfully down to sit amidst the rubble. “I need you to give me a hand. I’m hurt pretty bad…” she gestures to her wound. “Actually, I’m bleeding out…”

“Oh…” Jerome utters, noticing the blood for the first time, “Oh, yeah, yeah, right! Anything! You name it!”

Shizuka’s mother raises one finger over her head and waves it in a general direction behind her. “All-Kill kept a first-aid kit in a utility room in that-ish area which should still be intact. It has bandages and iodine. Get it for me. And be fast, please, I am dying.”

Jerome goes pale for an instant, but then his features firm with resolve. “You got it!” With that, he runs off.

T’onga releases a deep sigh. Light-headed from blood loss, she busies herself with picking fragments of dust and drywall out of her hair. Abruptly, she feels something cold nip at her nose and looks sharply to the sky. “What the hell…?”

Pale snowflakes fall from the sky, landing on the rubble and dissolving on contact, covering the ruin in glistening dew. With such a strange and beautiful sight, T’onga forgets her pain for a moment.

But only for a moment. It soon returns, a low, rhythmic throbbing accompanying her brooding thoughts. “So little time… So much still to be done…” she thinks. “The only way I can be free of All-Kill’s power is if All-Kill is dead. My daughter must have won. We’re both… free… That should make me happy… but it doesn’t. All that’s left now… is what has to come next.”

Jerome makes his return right then, carrying the first-aid box under his arm. “That was fast,” T’onga remarks.

“I’m quick when I wanna be,” the rapper answers, laying the kit on the ground and handing her a dark brown bottle out of it. Shizuka’s mother grins at the comment, then hisses in pain as she pours the iodine over her wound. Jerome sits next to her, staring at the ground. “I let Kilo die…” he mutters.

“No you didn’t,” says T’onga. “Bandages.”

He hands them to her and continues as she wraps them around herself. “Yeah, I did. I failed him. I failed Shizuka. And Moya. I couldn’t do anything…”

“You broke us out of Sang-ok’s ability. You hit All-Kill with a car. You got me this stuff. You’ve done plenty.”

“Anybody coulda done that shit… The wolf, he took it. He took that disc outta Kilo’s head. Cause o’ that, that All-Kill dude got wack-ass new powers… I ain’t got a Stand o’ my own, but I can put two and two together… When it mattered, I failed…”

T’onga ties the bandages in a knot, winces, then raises her head to look at the rapper. They sit in silence for some time. “...You need to go,” she says. Jerome’s shoulders immediately sink, his chin touching his chest. “Wait, shit, no. Not like that, I mean… Fuck.” Pulling at her face, she explains, “Listen… We have maybe ten minutes before the cops are all over this place. You can’t be here when that happens. Ae-j- I mean, fuckin’ Shizuka would feel bad if you got in trouble over our mess.”

“But… I-”

“I know, I know. What happened to Kilo was awful, but it’s not up to you to take responsibility for. You’ve already helped so much when you didn’t need to. Let me be clear…” Leaning forward, she eyes him severely. “I wouldn’t have done this in your place. I would have stayed home.” Beginning to shakily stand, she concludes, “You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

The former assassin stumbles as she rises, only to be caught by Jerome. He helps her to her feet. “Thanks…”

“Yeah…”

Awkwardly, Jerome steps back. “So, uh… guess I’d better get outta here… Ey, could you pass on a message to Shizuka?”

“No,” is her blunt reply, looking around at the rubble.

“Huh-?!”

“You’ll see her soon enough. Tell her then.”

“Oh, yeah… Right, I guess…” The rapper pauses suddenly, turning to T’onga’s face. “Wait a minute… I gotta split to avoid the cops, but what about you? What’re you gonna do?”

“I’ll think of something. Stop wasting time and-”

“… you gonna abandon Shizuka again?”

The former assassin turns a glowering gaze the rapper’s way, but he doesn’t flinch. He meets her eyes with firm resolve. “No…” she replies. “Never. Never again.”

Jerome stares at her for a long beat, then swiftly turns to leave. “I’ll tell you now, I ain’t gonna forgive you if you make that girl cry again.” He looks back at her, showing his gold teeth in a grin. “You thought yo’ boss was scary? He ain’t got shit on me!”

T’onga’s eyes go wide, almost bulging from their sockets. After several seconds, she releases a dumbfounded “What…?!” The C-King responds with a two-fingered salute, then trots away before she can say anything further. Once he’s gone, she can’t help herself. Despite the pain in her side, T’onga laughs.

***

A little time passes. On the wind, the sirens approach. Quiet now, but before long, they’ll be upon the mansion and T’onga. The former assassin sits and struggles to write on a sheet of paper. She retrieved it from All-Kill’s hard wood desk in his study, still intact despite having a ceiling dropped on it. Every nearby surface is too rough to effectively write on, so she has to write with the sheet in her hand. Her daughter’s voice cries out and she winces.

“Mom! Mom, where are you?!!”

“Over here…!” T’onga calls, standing and waving. Shizuka scrambles over the rubble, nearly tripping and landing on her face before reaching her.

“Mom! Mom, I did it! I beat him! I… I almost… B-But it’s fine now! I’m OK-!”

“OK, OK, good,” her mother says waving her down, “I can tell you won. Looks like things are just about finished…”

Shizuka blinks, cocking her head in confusion. “Uh… Y-Yeah, I guess they are. So, um… the police are coming… Should we do something about that?”

“Probably…”

“Right…” Neither of the women move. The approaching sirens become louder. “Why aren’t we doing anything?”

“I’m too weak to run, is why. It’s taking all the strength I have just to stand.”

Amongst the rubble of the Mulholland mansion, reality sets in. “...Oh,” says Shizuka. “What do we do now…?”

“You should run. Alone,” her mother advises, “Let me work things out with the boys in blue.”

“No,” retorts the girl, sounding almost offended.

“Yeah, I didn’t think you would…” T’onga smirks, a hand on her hip. “You’re stubborn. Just like your dad. And me too, I guess… Turn around for a second.”

Shizuka looks askance at her mother, suspiciously. “Why?”

T’onga gestures with the sheets of paper in her hand. “I’m trying to write, but I can’t without a surface. Lemme use your back.”

“O…Kay…” the girl relents, turning around and moving her hair out of the way. T’onga presses the papers to her back and writes. After a minute, the pressure from the pencil lifts and Shizuka turns to see her mother folding up the paper. On the folded up sheet, she quickly scribbles a set of blocky Asian characters, then hands it to Shizuka.

“There, done!” the former assassin says, seeming satisfied.

“What is-” Shizuka begins, but gets cut off.

“Oh, one more thing: Moya mentioned something about loaning you a knife. You still have it? Give it to me, please.”

Her frown deeper than ever, the girl fishes for the weapon in her jacket and hands it to her mother, then turns her attention back to the letter. Specifically, the Asian characters on the back.

“What the fuck? Is this a pearl handle?!” complains T’onga, inspecting the knife. “Moya, that bitch! She always had nicer things than me!”

“What is this…?” Shizuka asks, bemusedly gesturing to the folded up paper.

The former assassin looks up. “Oh, that. That’s a letter. Read it later. That-” she taps the blocky characters on the back, “Is Korean. It says ae-jeong. It’s a little presumptuous, but it is technically your mother tongue.”

“My mother t- What does this have to do with anything?” Nearby, the sounds of tires rolling over gravel appear. Red and blue lights flash, and soon, figures approach through the rubble.

“Ae-jeong is you.” T’onga declares, extending her hand to poke Shizuka’s forehead. “It’s the name I gave you.”

All sound vanishes. Nothing exists apart from the two of them. The girl’s eyes bulge. “...What?”

“Gangak insisted I come up with it. I just said the first thing that came to mind. It literally means heart, but in context, it means something more like emotion or feeling. I know it’s sudden, so just keep it on you until you get used to it.”

“I… I don’t understa-” Shizuka begins, but again, she’s cut off. T’onga steps closer and strokes her face with her hand.

With a gentle and deeply sad smile, she murmurs, “No matter what happens, never forget that I’m your mother, and I love you more than anything in the world.”

The girl stares, bewildered. Tears spring to her eyes, blurring her vision so she almost doesn't notice the approach of several boot-clad footsteps. Someone shouts at them to not make any sudden moves and she turns to look in surprise. In that momentary distraction, she sees her mother move, but she’s too slow to react.

#jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #achtung attitude #t'onga kim #c-king #ch84

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bellesowl · 3 years

Text

kiss and make up

- multiple characters

⤷ atsumu, sakusa

genre: (an attempt at) angst to fluff ; established relationship, timeskip

synopsis: in which you have an almost relationship-ending argument

word count: 2.1k total - about 1k each

warnings: fighting (obv), being called a burden, the boys are kinda mean but they make up for it i swear

- a/n: tbh i was kinda getting sick of writing just fluff so i wanted to spice it up a lil! if this sucks i’m probably going to stick to fluff fics but i think it should be fine? this one also only has 2 characs cause idk how i would be at writing angst LMAO if this does well enough i’ll post the one i have written w kuroo and iwa <3 but i feel like this kinda sucks so oh well

- thank u @kybabi for beta-ing <3

- miya atsumu

you n atsumu have been together since high school which is why you’ve always been inseparable

you went to the same college & moved in together right after, but once he got his job with the jackals, he insisted that you didn’t work and focused on getting your master’s degree

you reluctantly agreed, if only to be able finish & earn your phd soon after

because atsumu is always busy, it’s kinda become commonplace for you to do the chores around the house- like doing the laundry or washing the dishes or cooking dinner for him

but it’s gotten to the point where he expects it

atsumu sighs, unlocking the door to your shared apartment. today’s practice was rough, it was a day of hard conditioning and bad sets and he wanted nothing more than a good meal and to cuddle. the first thing he noticed when he walked in was the mess. instant ramen bowls were scattered everywhere, empty coke cans and dirty napkins were all over the floor, and there you were, in the eye of the hurricane. the second thing he noticed was that there was no homecooked meal.

surprised, he walks into the dining room to see you, furiously typing away at your laptop with four different books surrounding you. you hear his footsteps and look up.

“hey baby! how was practice?” you ask with a smile

atsumu grunts in reply and gestures toward the kitchen, “so.. what’s for dinner babe?”

your eyes widen, “oh shoot! i’m sorry, i was so busy studying for this final that i forgot to cook. do you mind-“ you stop when you see him roll his eyes and head out.

“um, where are you going? you just got home?” you ask, following him.

“out. i have to get food somehow” he replies, “especially because my useless s/o can’t cook a goddamn meal for me” he mutters under his breath

you stop in shock because did he really just say that?

“i’m sorry, i don’t think i heard you right.” you start but he interrupts you

“i said, i have to go get food because someone is too busy to cook a goddamn meal. what do you even do anyways- well, besides spend my money? the least you can do is cook for me, god.” he finally turns to look at you but he feels his heart stop at the look on your face.

not wanting to escalate the situation any further, you try to calm him down, “tsum, hey, i’m sorry i forgot to cook okay? this is my last final before the year ends and i just can’t afford to fail it, so i’ve been studying all day. if you come back to the kitchen, i’ll make you something, okay?”

“i don’t want to eat your half assed attempt at a meal, y/n. the whole point is that you couldn’t get off your ass for an hour to cook when i make the money, i paid for the apartment, hell, i’m even paying for your school! is it really too much to ask for you to stop being such a burden and cook and clean everyday?” he fumed.

you gape at him, shocked that he would even say that. to hell with not escalating things

“at least i want to do something more with my life than hit balls around and retire at 35” you hiss, “and i do everything in this house! i do the laundry, i clean the bathroom, i cook - i do all the things you refuse to. and do i complain? no. i offered to get a job but you refused.”

you turn around to grab your laptop and your textbooks, “just- just do whatever the hell you want to, atsumu.” and with that you walk out the door.

atsumu’s heart drops when he realizes that you actually left. sure, you’ve had arguments here and there, but you’ve never left. he pulls out his phone to call you when he sees you’ve left yours on the counter. knowing there’s nothing to do but wait at this point, he begins to clean up and calls osamu over.

it’s already 3 am when you walk back into your apartment, and you blink multiple times when you open the door. it’s ... clean? you’re sure it was a mess when you left, so how would it be clean? you sigh, too tired to think about it more and walk into the kitchen. your eyes widen at the sight. not only is your favorite food on the stove, but there your boyfriend is, asleep on the dining table. you smile slightly, well that explains things.

“ ‘’mu, hey, wake up babe.” you kiss him lightly and shake him.

he grunts and sits up, “baby! i’m so so sorry for what i said. you are in no way, shape, or form a burden, i have no clue why i said that. today’s practice was just really tiring, but i know i shouldn’t have taken it out on you. just please-” he sighs, “just please don’t leave me again.”

your heart breaks your teary eyed boyfriend. “shh, of course baby. i’ll never leave you again okay?” you say, tugging on his arm, “cmon babe, let’s go to bed, okay?”

“mm okay my love.” he replies and practically pulls you into bed. “i love you, okay?”

“i love you too baby.” you reply

“to the moon and back?” he asks

“yeah, and to infinity and beyond.” you reply, your lack of sleep hitting you hard

“oh, i didn’t know i was dating buzz lightyear”

you let out a loud laugh and just like that you both fall into the same routine, love radiating off both of you in waves.

- sakusa kiyoomi

dating sakusa was,, challenging

it definitely took him a while to get comfortable with you

so you guys have been dating for a couple years now, and at this point he’s def clingy

however there still moments when he reverts to his old self

this just happened to be one of those times

“OUT! AND JUST LIKE THAT, EJP RAIJIN TAKES THE WIN AGAINST THE BLACK JACKALS!”

the stadium is silent before the ejp cheering section erupts in cheers. you stay silent, watching your team below. you watch as sakusa stills, still in disbelief. you make your way down, practically sprinting to your boyfriend.

he sees you on the sideline and makes his way over to you. you put on your biggest smile and attempt to make him feel better.

“you did great, kiyo! you’ll get them next time, yeah?” you beam, knowing how hard he’s been training to beat his cousin

he eyes you warily, not knowing what to say.

usually, sakusa gets pretty clingy after games, so you you move to give him a hug.

“don’t touch me” he barked, jerking away from you. “if you hadn’t been distracting me, we would’ve won.”

you stare at him, refusing to let the tears flow. you both turn when you hear a certain setter yelling at the opposing middle and you sigh.

“um, okay then. i’ll see you at home, yeah?” you ask

sakusa merely nods and makes his way over to his teammates. you look around to see if anyone saw what just happened and you lock eyes with your boyfriend’s cousin, who walks over.

“congrats on the win komori! you guys did so well!” you cheered

“thanks, y/n! and i’m sorry about kiyoomi. i’m sure you know he gets that way sometimes.” he explains

you smile and shake your head, saying that you’re used to it and you both bid your farewells. as you walk out of the stadium, you think back to how your boyfriend, the one person you loved with everything you had in you, utterly embarrassed you in front of his whole team. before you know it, silent tears start streaming down your face.

you enter your home and immediately rush to the bathroom. you draw yourself a bath and make some dinner while waiting. you assume that kiyoomi wouldn’t be home to have dinner with you anyways- and now that you think about it, you can’t remember the last time you had dinner together. after you finish your bath and eat your dinner, you decide to wait up for boyfriend and watch a couple episodes of your favorite show to pass the time.

kiyoomi walks into his apartment at around 1 am, completely and utterly exhausted. he kicks his shoes off and drops his bag on the floor. The rustling rouses you from sleep and you sit up.

“hey kiyo” you say with a yawn, “where’ve you been all night?”

sakusa ignores you in favor of getting ready for bed and you frown when he brushes past you.

“kiyo, babe, what’s wrong? you’ve been ignoring me all night and i-” you start but he interrupts you before you can finish.

“god, just shut up, y/n. can’t you tell i don’t want to talk to you right now? i’ve already had the worst day, i don’t need you making it any worse.” he snaps

"kiyoomi, look, i understand you’re upset but you shouldn’t take it out on me.” you reason, reaching out towards him, “listen, i’m here if you wanna-”

“i said, do not touch me.” he seethes. “you are so fucking clingy y/n, lord, let me breathe a little.”

with those words, you explode. “you know what, sakusa,” he flinches when he hears his last name come out of your mouth, “i think i have the right to want to spend some time with my boyfriend! i haven’t seen you in god knows how long- you leave before i wake up and i fall asleep in an empty bed. i’ve been working my ass off to get some time off to watch your stupid volleyball game and what do you do? you embarrass me in front of your whole team!”

you sigh, wiping away the tears that continue that continue to fall. “listen, i don’t want to fight right now. i’m going to go stay at a friend’s house for the night, alright? i’ll see you tomorrow” you say, grabbing your purse. “if you’re even home tomorrow,” you add under your breath.

sakusa is in shock. the moment he saw your tears start to spill, he felt an undeniable and unrelenting ache in his chest that only seemed to grow with every work that came out of your mouth. and when the door shut? sakusa fell on his knees, his heart dropping. he truly couldn’t believe he said that to you. now all he had to do was wait till you got home.

2:38 pm - you check the time on your phone before pulling out your keys. you hope you made the right move, choosing to come back home while kiyoomi was still at practice. you open the door and the sight causes your eyes to widen.

there, on the couch with your favorite flowers in hand, is your boyfriend. he hears the door open and stands up abruptly.

“y/n, my love, i am so sorry. i truly cannot express how horrible i feel, and i cannot begin to understand how you feel.” he takes a deep breath, seemingly holding back tears. “i- i do love you. i love you more than i’ve ever loved anyone in my entire life. i know i’m not the best at expressing it, but you mean the world to me- no, you are my world. without you, i don’t know what i would do. so please-” his voice cracks, “just, please give me another chance?”

you run towards your boyfriend, practically tackling him. “kiyo, baby, of course. i love you too, you know? you just can’t do that anymore, yeah? you shouldn’t feel like you have the right to embarrass me just because you had a bad day. and please, don’t call me clingy? i know i do stick to you like glue sometimes, but that’s just because i never see you anymore.” you reply.

“that will all change, darling.” he answers sincerely, “i’ll make more time for you, i swear. in fact, i’ll take the week off, how does that sound?” at the sight of your smile, he relaxes.

“that sounds wonderful, yoomi.” you answer

sakusa feels the weight that’s been dragging him down lift and he realizes the effect you have on him- you’re his breath of fresh air. he also realizes how utterly idiotic it was to push away the one person who could make him feel better.

it’s fine, he reasons, he’ll just never make that mistake again. he swears it.

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

Text

Friends To Arranged Marriage To...Wait, How Many Kids?

Bruce Wayne x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 3K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: Y'all ever write a self-indulgent Friends To Lovers fic? 'Cause that's what this is. Enjoy! -Thorne

It wasn’t unusual for her to suddenly appear in his office. She did it most days. Okay, it was more like every day but that’s not important. The fact is, she showed up and he wasn’t at all the least bit surprised when she barged through the office door and slammed it behind her.

“Morning,” he murmured, taking his eyes off the screen but a moment to lock them with hers.

“Good morning, Bruce,” she responded with a polite smile. “We need to talk.”

That wasn’t unusual either. When she came to the office it was because she wanted to either complain about something going on or because she was bored and didn’t have anything to do, so badgering her best friend seemed like the best option. It wasn’t, but he wasn’t going to tell her that.

“What do we need to talk about?” Bruce questioned, clicking at the mouse until his screen loaded.

“Something important. Something especially important.” She replied and with one hand reached behind her and flipped the lock on his door.

Now that was unusual. And Bruce saw this going one of two ways and he hoped it wasn’t the first way that involved her pulling a gun.

“Okay,” he said and watched her out of the corner of his eye as waltzed around his desk and perched herself on the corner. “Am I in trouble, (Y/N)?”

“If you disagree with me, you will be,” she retorted and she started fumbling in her tote.

“You sound serious,” Bruce noted.

(Y/N) harrumphed. “I am quite possibly the most serious I’ve been in years.” She pulled out three manila folders and handed them to him, watching as he opened the first and started reading through it.

He didn’t say anything as he opened the others and read them but frowned when he set them aside and went back to his computer.

“I’ve already planned on a new secretary, (Y/N).”

She watched him with careful eyes and explained, “Those aren’t secretary files, Bruce. They’re marriage candidates.”

At that, his entire body went rigid and ever so slowly he drew his gaze from the screen back to her, staring her straight in the eyes.

“I…beg your pardon?” he asked as if not understanding what she’d just said.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and picked up the files. “Each of these women are successful elites from either Metropolis, Star, or Central City. You have arranged marriage meetings with them Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday to decide which one you want to marry.”

This was happening way too fast, and he still didn’t know what “this” was.

“I’m not opposed to marriage, (Y/N), but why?”

She pointed to the picture on his desk, and he briefly glanced at it. Him, Dick, and Alfred on Christmas morning last year.

“Dick needs a mother.” She was never one to mince her words. “A father can raise a son, but the boy needs a mother’s love too, Bruce.”

“I think you’re a bit out of line here.” He remarked, brows pulling together. “We’re fine at the manor.”

“Bruce…please don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re not a soft man. You’re hard edges and firmness, and while that isn’t a bad thing, Dick needs a mother who can be the parent that isn’t firm. He needs a mother’s guiding hand.”

She handed him the files again. “I’ve met each of these women. They’re good women who will make wonderful wives and even better mothers.” She stared at him. “You should know how important it is for a boy to have a mother.”

Bruce was on his feet in an instant, in front of her, eyes narrowed into a glare as he bit out, “(Y/N), now you’re out of line.”

“Really?” she challenged, not at all threatened by his towering figure. “Look my in the eye and tell me which parent you miss more. Thomas…or Martha?”

“I miss both of my parents. Every day.”

“And I don’t doubt that. But I know you miss Martha the most. Isn’t she the one you promised to save Gotham for?” (Y/N) questioned and his mouth snapped shut, jaw clenching tightly as he averted his eyes because he knew she was right.

She reached out and rested a hand on his forearm, forcing his eyes to hers once more; her gaze softened and she murmured, “You miss your mother more than the world, Bruce. How do you think Dick feels every night when he goes to sleep? Fathers are the protectors for their children, but mothers are the comforters—there are going to be things that you can’t help him with, but a woman can.”

(Y/N) gazed at him and pulled her hand away. “At least go and meet them,” she requested and when he didn’t say anything, she sighed and picked up her tote, making her way to the door.

She flipped the lock and paused, glancing over her shoulder to say, “At least think about what I’ve said, Bruce. For Dick…and for you.” He met her eyes and she added, “I think getting married would be good for you too.”

He nodded, and since that was all they could hope for, she left the office and Bruce collapsed into his chair, turning around to stare out the window.

***

His theory that she would show up Friday evening proved true when she waltzed into his office and took a seat in one of the leather chairs in front of his desk, delicately crossing one of her legs over the other.

“How’d the interviews go?” she asked, not even bothering to ask him how his day was or how his week had been.

“My day was great, (Y/N), thanks for asking,” he mocked with a glare and she waved it off.

“Interviews, Bruce. How’d they go.”

He let out a sigh. “They went well. Each of them was polite and kind.”

“And?” (Y/N) gestured for him to continue.

“And nothing. That’s it.”

She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “Seriously? You just met them for a singular purpose and all you’ve got it, they’re polite and kind?” She glared at him. “What’d you talk about?”

Bruce sighed again and reclined in his office chair. “Humanitarian works, college days, high society—you know, the usual.”

(Y/N) gave him an unamused look. “Did any ask for a second date?”

“All of them in fact.”

“Did you agree?”

“No.”

Her head lolled back, and she glared at the ceiling. “Did you even think about what I talked about a few days ago?”

“I still am.”

“Then why didn’t you agree to see one of them again?”

“Because there wasn’t anything we had in common.”

“Most people who have arranged marriages don’t, Bruce. That’s why you go on dates and get to know them.” Her eyes were still on the ceiling. “What’s the real reason you said no?” She always knew when he’d lied to her.

After a moment, he murmured, “…I didn’t think any of them would be suitable to be Dick’s adoptive mother.”

“I guess that’s…fair,” she agreed and they both fell silent.

A couple minutes later, he said, “I’ve been thinking about what you said though, (Y/N). About finding a wife who would be a good mother for Dick.”

“Uh huh.”

“I think you’re right. I do offer Dick everything a father could. Support, protection, guidance…but he is missing that love only a mother can give a son.”

“And how’s that making you feel?” she questioned softly.

His voice got quiet. “Like how I was when I was growing up without mother. (Y/N), I…I don’t want Dick to feel that way.”

At that, she drew her gaze from the ceiling to his eyes and she reasoned, “Then I think you should call one of the girls back and agree to a second date. You won’t find perfection in one day, even with how intuitive you are.”

Bruce shrugged. “I just want to find someone closer to Gotham. Someone who is familiar with us already.”

(Y/N) grunted. “I purposely moved away from Gotham because no one is.”

“That’s fair,” Bruce chuckled, and they fell into a silence again.

Suddenly, a thought flashed across her mind and she sat up. “Us.” She blurted out and he looked at her.

“What?”

(Y/N) gestured between them. “Us, Bruce. You and me.”

“I don’t follow,” he replied with a confused expression and she huffed, rolling her eyes.

“You’re an idiot,” she griped, then she stood and planted her hands on his desk, leaning over to get in his face. “You and I are the closest to Gotham as you’ll get, and I’m familiar with you and Dick.” She smiled. “Marry me.”

She could count on one hand how many times she’d ever stunned her best friend silent and that was number two because his jaw went slack and his eyebrows shot up to his hairline, steel blue eyes wide.

(Y/N) frowned. “Oh, come on, you can’t tell me the thought didn’t cross your mind at least once.” Silence. “Oh my God, are you serious? You didn’t even think about it at all? Like ever?”

He shook his head, mouth still hanging open.

“Oh, for God’s sakes, close your mouth and wipe that stupid look off your face. It’s not a completely inconceivable idea, you moron.” (Y/N) held a hand up, counting off her fingers, “I’m of acceptable status, I dress well, I’m thoroughly educated, I do humanitarian work all over the world, I love your son, and I’m probably the one woman that doesn’t make you wanna stab yourself in the eye with a fork.”

She grinned at him. “You’re not going to find anyone better than me here in Gotham, Brucie-boy. Besides, I think (Y/N) Wayne has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

Finally, he managed to make himself speak and he blurted out, “I stopped thinking like five minutes ago. I’m not even sure how to do that anymore.”

(Y/N) pulled a face and griped, “You’re an idiot.”

“I am not,” he retorted with a glare. “You can’t just propose to your best friend out of the blue and expect them to function like it’s normal!”

“You’re Batman,” she whispered. “Figure it out.” (Y/N) pointed at him. “There’s another plus on my side! I already know your deepest secrets! See, aren’t I a catch?”

“Was this your plan all along?” Bruce suddenly questioned and she gaped at him for a second before shaking her head.

“…No.”

“(Y/N),” he drawled, and she sighed.

“Alright, it crossed my mind a couple times but that’s why I started with the other women first. I was kinda hoping you’d pick one of them.” (Y/N) looked at him. “I really don’t see anything wrong with us getting married though. We’ve been friends since we were babies, we have a lot of the same interests, and we both care for Dick.”

She shrugged. “I mean we might not be in love, but our marriage doesn’t have to be. We’re stepping up for a greater good. For a young boy who deserves to have two parents.” (Y/N) reached out and held out her hand. “So? What do you say?”

Bruce gazed at her for a long time, longer than she was comfortable with because she knew he was mentally pulling her mind apart. After a few moments he stood and walked around the desk to stand in front of her.

She pulled her hand back in and gave a curious look. “Bruce?” His hands gently took hold of her cheeks and he leaned forward, even as her eyes went wide and she whispered, “Bruce, what—”

He softly brushed his lips against hers and (Y/N) all but melted against him, her hands pressed flat against his chest. They pulled away a moment later and he rested his forehead to hers.

“I think we can make it work, (Y/N).”

She couldn’t fight the giddy smile that came over her face. “Yeah?”

Bruce matched her smile. “Yeah.”

***

“So, you’re tellin’ me,” he started dubiously, looking at him. “That you and Ma only got together because you guys wanted to make sure Golden-boy had two parents instead of just you?”

Bruce didn’t even take his eyes off the screen as he responded absentmindedly, “That pretty much covers it.”

Jason threw his hands in the air. “There’s no way! There’s no way that shit was arranged! You two make googly eyes at one another when you think no one is watching and you kiss Ma before you go to work every day!” he looked at his brothers. “Y’all know what I’m sayin’ right?”

Tim nodded. “Jay’s got a point, dad. For an arranged marriage, the two of you are really in love.”

Dick placed a hand over his heart and smugly admitted, “You’re welcome everyone, for bringing mom and dad together in real love.”

A chorus of “Fuck you’s” echoed from Jason and Tim, and Damian placed his hands on his hips.

“When did you know you loved Umi, Father?”

Finally, he pulled his gaze from the Batcomputer, and even behind his cowl, they could see the love he had in his eyes and in his voice as he said, “Your mother and I dated for a year before we married, but the night of our wedding, we spent it at the manor and Dick crawled into our bed and spent the night wrapped in our arms.”

Bruce smiled. “I woke up early that morning and saw him curled in (Y/N)’s arms and all I could think was that I’d never loved a woman more than that moment then.” His eyes shifted to all of his sons. “And I’ve only fallen deeper in love with her with each of you that’s come into our home. You make us better parents every day and I wouldn’t change what I was given for anything in the world.”

He barely had time to breathe before all four of his sons were crashing into him, squeezing him as tears spilled down their cheeks.

Bruce huffed a quiet laugh and took a moment to brush a hand through each of his sons’ hair. “I love you, boys.”

A chorus of “I love you too’s” came back at him and before anyone could speak, they heard someone coo, “Aww, that’s so sweet!”

They spun around to see (Y/N) with her phone out, a mile-wide smile on her face, eyes shining with tears.

“Ma…what are you doing?” Jason questioned and she clicked something on her phone.

“Oh, nothing, my sweet boy,” she smiled, and all of her sons started pulling away from Bruce.

“Did you just record that?” Tim asked and she took a step back.

“I would never!” and she stared them down for a split second before spinning on her heel and hauling off towards the stairs. Her sons sprinted after her and she let out a squeal as she skipped the steps two at a time to get away from them.

“Ma come back here!” Jason shouted.

“Umi! Our dignity is on that phone!”

“I dunno, I think it’s sweet!”

“It’s not going to be sweet when she sends it to the group chat that every superhero is in, Dick! We have reputations!”

“Oh…that’s a good point, Tim. Mom! Come back here!”

(Y/N) gasped as someone’s arms wrapped around her waist and she came face to face with Bruce—well, Batman, and she yelped when he pulled her phone out of her pocket.

“Bruuuuuuce!” she whined. “Please don’t delete it!” (Y/N) reached for the phone and he held it out of reach. “Darling, my sweet darling, Bruce, please,” she plead. “If you love your wife and mother of your children, you won’t do that.”

His gaze darted to hers and she pouted, sticking her bottom lip out in the way that she knew he’d crack. “Please, my heart. Let me have a reminder of my beautiful boys.”

“You won’t send it to the chats?” he asked, and she crossed a finger over her heart.

“Cross my heart, darling.” He handed her back the phone and she smiled, leaning up to peck the corner of his mouth. “Thank you, Bruce.”

He cupped her cheek with his gloved hand, thumb brushing over her cheekbone and he pulled her into a real kiss, ignoring the exaggerated gags behind him.

“I love you,” he murmured as he pulled away from her lips. “More than you know.”

(Y/N) hummed, her eyes still closed, and she whispered, “You might love me more, but I love you most.” She opened her eyes and gazed at him. “All my boys.”

Suddenly, her phone started dinging like crazy and he stared at her, his Batman voice coming out as he surmised, “You sent it to the chat, didn’t you?”

She gave him an innocent smile and giggled, “I might’ve.”

“You’re going to pay for all the teasing that Hal and Barry are going to give me, (Y/N) Wayne,” he warned, and she scoffed.

“Oh, boo hoo, I’m so scared of what the big bad Bat is go—” a gasp escaped her when he hauled her up against his body and she stared at him with wide eyes.

A siren went off down in the cave and he looked towards the boys. “Go.” They all hurried off, complaining about the various texts they were all getting.

Bruce looked back at her, voice lowering as he growled, “After patrol I’m coming up to the bedroom and you’d better be ready, because I’m not going to stop ravishing you until you’re begging me for release.”

Something hot, tight, and fierce shot through (Y/N)’s gut and she could only flounder like a fish as he pulled her into another searing kiss before he spun on his heel and descended into the cave.

She gathered herself and called out after him, “You can’t just say something like that and then leave! That’s not fair, Bruce! Bruce, are you listening to me!”

Only his laughter echoed from below.

“Bruce!”

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george-fabian-weasley · 3 years

Text

George Weasley — Shower Buddy

Summary: You asked him to join you in a shower, and it's absolutely the best decision you ever did.

Words: 1,272 words

Warnings ⚠ : The amount of love I have for this man is HDJAJDJ, Pure Fluff, Cute af, Just makes you sit back and wonder if you'll ever have this kind of affection in your life, George Weasley Supremacy

Disclaimer: I am so helplessly in love with this man WHY IS HE NOT REAL

“George, stop,” You mumbled sleepily as George kept trailing kisses down your face. “Not until you wake up, love. It’s breakfast time.” He mumbled onto your skin and his lips slowly met the place you’re sensitive to, making you snap your eyes open and burst out a laughter.

“No, it tickles!” You squirmed under him, and George cracked a wide smile at this divine discovery. “Ah, so you’re ticklish here?” He playfully said mocking innocence as he kissed the same place over and over again, making you screaming giggles, “Ah stop!”

When he stopped, you were out of breath and you looked at him having the widest grin he had ever had. You were under him, and you just stared at him with a lingering smile, “Morning, darling.”

George’s smile softened at the tone of your voice, leaning down to touch your nose with his, “Good morning, angel.” You leaned up and kissed his lips softly, his chuckles made you chuckle as well as he kissed back. You pulled away, your head resting on the pillow again, “You know, I won’t complain if this is my view after waking up every morning.” You smiled, and he raised an eyebrow to you playfully, “Really now? Good to know actually, because this,” he gestured to himself and you giggled, “is not going away soon.”

"Okay get up, you big puppy, I want to take a shower." You said, struggling against his body trapping you from sitting up. George laid still on top of you, popping a childish 'nope' out of him as he dug his face into the crook of your neck.

"George!" You laughed out, and he chuckled with you, kissing the skin of your neck lightly, "You're not getting away, we'll stay here until the sun sets."

Again, erupted laughter.

Suddenly an idea came to mind. You bit your bottom lip and looked down to the grown man curling on top of you.

"I wanna go shower," You said, and George shook his head again, "Nope, I told you—" "Care to join?"

There was silence. And then George looked up from your neck, heavily blushing with an excited grin on his face, "Yes please."

You shook your head in amusement at the childishness your boyfriend was giving you, it was quite adorable, you're not going to lie.

As he—finally—let you off to go to the bathroom, he followed your tail like a little duckling following its mother. When you looked at him in question, he said, "What? You're not joking about me joining you, are you?"

You rolled your eyes playfully, "Aren't you a big baby." George had this smug smirk on his face as he watched you undress, "Your big baby."

He laughed as you grimaced at the pick-up line, your face contorted into playful disgust. He then undressed, throwing off the grey singlet he had on every night as a nightwear and the black boxers as its match. Shamelessly, you were ogling the view in front of you, but there was no sexual feeling under it.

You had seen his body countless times, and he had seen yours. So it's nothing awkward.

"Liking the view too much, aren't we?" George teased and you blep-ed at him, "Nothing wrong looking at a piece of art."

As your two naked bodies hopped in the shower section of the bathroom, you giggled at the proximity, "Since when it has been so small?" You joked and George chuckled, shaking his head.

As you turn on the shower, you waited until the heat comes in, it was mid-winter and you would be shaking out of coldness if you didn't hug George a while ago.

You flinched at the cold droplets of water attacking your skin, an instant whine escaped your lips. George erupted into laughter as he watched you recoil to his side, avoiding the cold water, enjoying the adorable view.

"It's cold!" You whined, and George snaked his arms around your naked waist, pulling you close to him, "Yeah yeah, I know. Let's wait for a bit, yeah?"

You stood there back hugged by George for a moment as one of his hands left your waist to feel the temperature of the water, waiting for the heat to arrive.

When the water turned warm he let you go in first, enjoying the view of water droplets rolling down your skin. George watched with his back leaned onto the tiled wall as you let out a sigh of content at the warmth, closing your eyes simultaneously. When you opened them back, you find George staring at you contently.

George found you to be absolutely breathtaking at that moment. The way the water droplets rolled down your skin, the way they hang at the edge of your eyelashes before dropping off, the way they passed your lips slowly at the curve, the way your hair slowly flatten down to your scalp.

"George?" Your voice brought him out of his trance, you were still under the showerhead and the water was still trickling down your body. So he did what he only thought was right.

He strode forward, his big hands cupping your face and George leaned in to kiss you.

He felt the water dropping across his skin, the warmth it brought somehow maximized the jittery feeling on his stomach every time he kissed you. You kissed back—of course you did, and your hands comfortably making their way to his now wet ginger hair.

George could taste the water sneaking into your lips, yet he didn't care. When he pulled away, he was absolutely wet from the showerhead and you were speechless at how mesmerizing he is.

You held him close to you, you kissed his freckled shoulder as you did, and he hugged your waist while caressing your wet hair gently, his lips at your temple.

You were naked, but you didn't feel any sexual feeling at that moment. All that matters were the warmth from the water droplets, and the warmth inside your heart.

Your chest was pressed against his, and you could feel his heartbeat quickening. You closed your eyes in content, the silent moment was worth everything.

The only sound was the water hitting your skin softly, and your breathing.

George had never felt so relaxed before. Being in there with you at a close proximity like that without any sexual intentions was just... heavenly. He never thought he could feel more content as he did with you, but you managed to surprise him every time.

The way you managed to warm up his heart like no other was always so unbelievable to him. He placed a gentle kiss on your temple, lingering there for a moment to say everything he wanted to say to you in that kiss.

And somehow, you knew. You knew what he meant, and silently you kissed his shoulder, hoping the same message got delivered to him.

The flowers blooming inside his heart were going wild, and George didn't know if the heat on his face were due to the water or his blush, not that he minded. He let out a silent chuckle, the rumble of his chest vibrated to yours and you looked up to him.

George looked back at you and he cupped your face lovingly with one hand. A gentle smile spread across his face, and slowly a smile etched on yours as well.

"I think it's official now," George said, and you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, "What's official?"

A mischievous smile sneaked onto his lips, the light in his eyes flickered nothing but mischief, "I'm your shower buddy from now on."

#george weasley imagine #fred and george #fred gideon weasley #harry potter #weasley twins #fred weasley x reader #fredweasley #george-fabian-weasley #fred weasley #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley x you #george weasley fic #george weasley fanfic #georgeweasley #george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley fluff #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n

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violetnotez · 3 years

Text

HC: Seeing Them Shirtless for the First Time | JJK

Should I be getting ready for work? Yes, yes I should be 💀

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:

Music Genre: Rock | JJK

Characters: Gojo, Itadori, Megumi

Warnings: cursing, suggestive content

Music Collection | Tip Jar | Requests!

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Shop Owner Note: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS ONE-Gojos in particularrrrrr

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The first time you saw Gojo shirtless was during your first time being intimate with him.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:

Gojo was just-perfect. You honestly couldn’t describe him any other way...yeah, he could sometimes be a pain in your ass with his boyish antics, but that somehow adds to that special charm he possesses. Even now, with his hands pinning yours above your head, lips molding into yours in a lustful heat, he was smiling as if he was having the time of his life. Gojo moved down from your lips, finally allowing you a second to breathe, instantly finding a spot on your neck, sucking and licking the skin as if his life depended on it. The sensation was overriding your system, your throat desperately trying to release a groan from the overwhelming sensation, intense heat traveling through your core. You felt him find the spot you were most sensitive in, that held back groan finally being stolen from your swollen lips. Embarrassment burst into your stomach, your knuckles tightening as you shifted to to the side, desperately trying to hide your face from making such a lewd reaction.

You felt Gojo chuckle against your skin, the vibration sending a shock wave throughout your spine and limbs. “Ah, Cmon doll, don’t be so shy,” he cooed, a devilish smirk encasing his features, “I like it when you make those little sounds for me.........and only me, right?” It was a taunt, a trap, and he knew it-if Gojo Satoru was anything, he was always confident in his abilities. And his ability to completely be able to control you, to keep you by his side, was no exception. Any other day, when you were thinking clearly you would Probabaly retort back with a back handed quip that would make him chuckle. But right now, with your head buzzing with adrenaline and only the thought of the way his skin felt against yours, his kisses burning into your flesh and the pulsating heat in your core...you just wanted him.

“Only you,” you whispered, voice wavering with nerves and adrenaline as your digits found the edge of his shirt, craving for more of his skin against yours. Gojo chuckled again, the sound warm and rich like molasses. Yet, his hand since again were on top of yours, now halting you in your pursuit of undressing him. “You really wanna do this doll? I’m not against it, not at all, but you dont have to-“

“I want to,” you interjected, face flushed with desperation, eyes wide with lust, “I want to so badly Gojo...I want you.” Gojo’s chest tightened at the words, a feral need exploding in his chest-god, the times he dreamed of this day and it’s finally happening...you were just too adorable, your hair tosseled from the heated make out sessions, lips puffy and skin so warm, your eyes practically begging him to devour you. How could he deny you that luxury, especially since you wanted it so much? He leaned in to your lips, digits tracing your skin in designs only he could imagine. He pulled away, mere centimeters from your skin. “You sure little one?” He asked again, using the nickname he gave you that always made you roll your eyes with a smile. It did just the trick, making you giggle at the name as you looked to the side-“I’ve always been ready, ya know.”

“Oh really?” He teased, that delicious smirk gracing his features. He leaned away from you, sitting up in the bed. “Well, I’m not too sure about that....” His digits wrapped around the hem of his shirt near his neck, pulling the fabric over his head and tossing it to the corner of his room. Gojo shook his hair out slightly, making the tendrils look even more chaotic than before. You felt your chest tighten by the sight of Gojo shirtless....you had imagined many times before, but seeing the real thing was way different, and way better. Gojo was built as perfectly as his personality, each muscle taught and visible in his abdomen and arms, the veins in his hand even more noticeable in the lighting. You gulped, staring at the way his sweatpants accentuated the dips of his hips, following down to the waist band of his boxers peaking out from his sweats.

Gojo noticed every gesture you made, loving how you drank in his form as he hovered over you. “Why don’t you take a picture-itll last longer,” he said as he leaned into your ear, earning a playful eye roll form you. He chuckled at your reaction, leaning back into your body, hands trailing the side of your waist. “Well if you’re not gonna take a picture....I don’t think it’s very fair that I’m the only one shirtless here....” your felt his digits find the hem of your shirt, teasingly tracing your skin under from underneath..

“So how about we change that, hm?”

The first time you saw Itadori shirtless it was by pure chance- He just cant seem to remember to bring a spare tshirt into the bathroom when he showers.

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Yuuji cant seem to understand why your so flustered- he is so adorable and innocently oblivious its almost painful. Especially when he comes out of the bathroom from a shower, cotton candy pink hair still dripping with water droplets, slick adomen in full view, the “V” of his hip bones partially exposed from the band of his sweatpants. You just wanted to have a chill movie night with your boyfriend-but how can you think about choosing between a horror or a comedy when you have that in front of you? You gulp down a ball of saliva as Itadori casually talked about the different options of films, rummaging through his drawers for a clean shirt as if this was all a normal event-which it was not. Your eyes were glued onto him, drinking in every deifned dip and curve and trying to hold yourself back from thinking about...other ways this cozy date could end up....

But Yuuji knows you like the back of his hand....he knows when something is wrong with you, and you most deinfitely are not your self right now. He instantly begins to ask you questions, voice softly laced with worry. You reassure him your fine, really, but Itadori knows you way too well. He gently raises your chin with his pointer and middle finger, forcing you to look into his eyes. Your breathe gets hitched in your throat, brain suddenly and unbelievebaly clouded from being so so close to him, now knowing that the boyfriend you love so dearly looks like a damn god under his clothing making your heart ram against your chest. His voice was comforting and warm, eyes scanning your face for any sign of sadness or even maybe sickness.

“Whats on your mind?” he asks gently, trying to coax a response out of you so he can put his worries at ease....until he hears the words “your abs”, blurt out of your mouth at warp speed, your tone dazed and then immediately embarrassed, horror on your face for saying soemthing so honest. He blinks a few times, clearly not expecting that to come from you....but he would be lying if he didnt say he enjoyed it once it set in. A warm chuckle tumbles out of Itadori, that bright boyish grin plastered on his face. He really didnt mean to make you so flustered,..but he’s not complaining

The first time you saw Megumi shirtless was by force-he just hates being taken care of when he’s hurt.

Crimson red clumped against Megumi’s face, sticky and smeared glimpses of his pale skin glowing under the moonlight. His hair was matted down to his face from the slashes oozing out of his head, suit was slashed to bits, his ribs were killing him, and he had a limp on his left leg...but he was fine-honestly. Or that’s what he was trying to tell you...but you wouldn’t listen to a single second of the bull crap he was trying feed you. He was conflicted with emotions-on one hand, it almost annoyed him how utterly selfless you could be for him. It was 1am, the moon on its highest peak in the sky, and you were willing to play nurse for him....but on the other, it warmed him up inside that you did care so much. If he would allow himself to dwell on that emotion, he would admit-that it was .... nice....to have someone take care of him for once. He was used to bandaging each wound on his own, cleaning and disinfecting the soon to be battle scars, hissing to the walls at the pain it caused him. But with you there, you were soft, so gentle with him. Your touch was like a second adrenaline rush for him-you had yourself cradled in his lap, the skin of your thighs barely crazing his tattered uniform. Hands gently positioning his hair, pushing the wispy jet black strands away from the wounds.

“I can do this on my own,” he retorted quietly, his voice a few octaves lower from fatigue. “I bet you could..” you completely ignored him, continuing to busy yourself with closing a scrape on his skin with butterfly bandages. “-but why would I let you?” Megumi felt his breath hitch, taking a sharp breath in....any type of annoyance he felt with you being so god damn persistent instantly left his body, the only thing he can focus on was how much he loved your selfless nature-even if it could be annoying at times. But the instant he took in that deep breath, he felt a deep, guttural pain in his side, making him groan before he could stop it from spilling out of his mouth. That soft gaze you had turned to worry, your hands wrapping around his face, thumbs running smooth circles on his pale skin. “Your hurt....we’re going to need to-“

“N-no, I-“Megumi stuttered out, obviously flustered by the prospect of you seeing him so bare. “I-I’m fine. I can do this on my-“ his voice was stern and cold, yet the wavering tone made any attempt of sounding firm go invalid. You gave him a small smile, your fingers still running circles against his skin, making him look at you with nervous eyes. “Megumi, you are not fine,” you stated calmly, with eyes that simply said the opposite-you were genuinely worried for him. “please...you could have broken a rib, or done soemthing to cause a lot of damage...please, Megumi, I don’t want you to be in pain anymore.” You were asking him, pleading with him, and it broke Megumi in his core-he just couldn’t stand to see you look that scared for him of all people. Megumi sighed, eyes drifting down to the floor in hopes you couldn’t see his embarrassment as he gave in to you.

You helped Megumi shuffle out of his uniform, opting to cut it with some scissors halfway (as it was tattered to shreds already). Both of you were quite nervous...in your relationship, you had never down anything that would warrant for you to see each other’s body’s. So you being able to see him without a shirt felt like a huge step, even if it wasn’t such a big deal to an outsider. Once the fabric was finally off, you both sat in silence, your minds reeling. You knew Megumi was fit, but seeing exactly how much that work paid off brought heat flooding your body, your eyes focused on the way his breath contracted and relaxed his muscles, the moonlight catching the divots of his lower abdomen deliciously. Pale white Scars littered his skin from training, making his body even more mysterious to look at. Each scar was a story, some sort of battle, a lesson he had to learn...you wanted to learn about each and every one. Your hand felt drawn to them, digits slowly checking for signs of bruising, purposefully tracing those scars in order to burn them to memory. Fushigori was practically panicking, desperately trying to keep his heartrate lowered, the cool night air biting at his heated skin as your digits traced against his sides. You were only trying to detect the spots that could be damaged on his abdomen...but damn was it firing something inside him. He was feeling more comfortable like this, just relishing the feeling of your skin on his.

None of these characters or shows are my own, only the storylines and narratives I create are mine. Copying, stealing, plagiarizing, rewording, or using my storylines in other media, claiming to be your own, or reposting without my consent is not allowed.

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mxlti-fand0m-imaginess · 3 years

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138. You’re the only person whose ever cared about me. With pre-death tate?? Thank you💝

Pumped Up Kicks // Tate Langdon

request: 138. You’re the only person whose ever cared about me. With pre-death tate??

prompts: 138

warnings: death, murder, school shooting, language, violence, blood, angst, sadness, not proofread

At first you didn’t notice them. The sound could’ve been explained in many different way. A door slamming too hard. Someone nearby set off fireworks. A balloon popped. But then they got louder, and more repetitive. There was no mistaking the noise. They were gunshots.

You froze in terror as the book you were holding slipped from your hands and fell to the library floor with a dull thud. You looked around at the other students in the library, trying to figure out what to do.

The librarian dashed for the door, locking it just before the handle started to rattle. You ran, crawling under the nearest table, hoping you wouldn’t be seen.

Then it stopped. The room fell silent once more, and everyone let out a collective sigh of relief. But the only problem was, there was another door. Before the librarian was able to lock it, the door burst open. Shoots fired and the librarian fell to the floor.

You curled your legs into your body, trying your best to hide your shaking. All around you, you heard gunshots, and bodies falling to the floor. Everyone was gone. You were the only one left in the room.

You watched as the shooter slowly walked away, and you let out the breath you were holding in. You were safe, you weren’t going to die.

But that relief left your mind the second the table on top of you was thrown aside, leaving you exposed. They were in front of you. You were going to die.

Slowly you looked up and gasped when you saw who it was. Tate Langdon, your best friend. He was the one doing this? A million questions flooded your mind as you stared into his eyes.

“Tate, please you don’t have to do this.”

He crouched down in front of you, meeting your eyes.

“You’re wrong y/n. This is what I was meant to do.”

“But why me? Tate you’re my best friend. Please don’t do this,” tears came to your eyes as you pleaded with him.

“You’re the only person whose ever cared about me. That’s why I have to do this. I’m saving you. I’m sending you somewhere clean. Somewhere kind. Away from this filthy world that we live in.”

Before you had the chance to say anything else, Tate shot you. You looked down and saw the blood pooling underneath you, spilling out of your stomach. You fell back, colliding with the floor. You felt your life fade away, and then you were gone.

17 years later

It was halloween again. The one day of the year that you could leave the school you were forever imprisoned in. You stepped out of the confines of the school, smiling as the cool October breeze met your skin.

But the other victims with you didn’t share your joy in freedom. Their minds were always only on one thing. Revenge.

“Come on guys! This is the one day of the year that we’re free and you wanna waste it on getting back at him?”

“We’re not getting back at him y/n. We just wanna know why? Don’t you?” Chloe said as she looked at you.

“Well yeah, but why does it matter? It happened and there’s nothing we can do about it. C’mon guys we should do something fun it’s our one day of freedom!”

“Look you don’t have to come with us, but we need to talk to him,” Stephanie replied, glancing sadly towards you.

“Yeah, and if we scare him, that’s just a bonus,” Kyle laughed slightly.

Everyone talking about Tate was starting to get to you. After everything that happened, you still had feelings for him. You don’t want to, but you can’t help it. The two of you were so close before you died. And even after all this time, your feelings still haven’t changed.

“I know how hard seeing him is for you. You don’t have to come with us. Go have fun, visit your family.”

“Thanks Steph, but I think I need to do this. I haven’t seen him since,” you trailed off, not wanting to mention your death again.

“Then let’s go, we’re losing daylight,” Kyle yelled.

There he was. Sitting on the beach with some girl. Maybe she’s dead too? It doesn’t matter, she’s not why you’re here. You stood behind and watched as everyone walked up towards him.

“I don’t know any of you.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, your eyes widened. How doesn’t he remember?! How could he possibly forget something like that?!

Then Kevin turned to you, motioning you over. You slowly stepped out from the shadows and walked towards Tate. As soon as he saw you he gasped. He recognized you.

“Why did you do it Tate?” you asked him, your voice breaking slightly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tate said, close to tears.

“You really don’t remember?”

He shook his head.

“Tate, you killed me. You killed all of us. Just please, tell me why you did it!” you pleaded with him hoping he would remember.

When he didn’t say anything, you reached forward and grabbed his hand. In an instant, memories flooded through Tate’s mind. He remembered. He remembered everything.

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I thought I was doing something good. I thought I was saving you. I don’t know what I was thinking. I killed the only person I’ve ever loved.”

Tate pulled you into a hug, wrapping his arms around you tightly. Hesitantly you returned the gesture. Embracing the boy you loved.

“I love you y/n. I’m sorry. I wish I could take it back. I never wanted to kill you I don’t know what came over me.”

“I-,” you stopped speaking, trying to find the words.

“I love you too Tate. But I can’t be with you. Not yet at least. You ruined everything. You took my life away from me. I was going to be someone someday. But you took that away,” you slowly pulled away from him as the words left your mouth.

“Y/n please,” he pleaded as you turned and started to walk away.

“I’m sorry. But I just can’t do this.”

And before Tate could say anything else, you took off running. Right now you wanted nothin more than to be back at that school. Even though it was your prison, anything was better than having to face Tate again. Anything.

Taglist: @ahsxual @darlingkitt @1800-fuckbitchesgetmoney @horrorgirlx

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