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#like he didn't own up to what he did all on his own??
flamingpudding · 2 days
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Triple Identity Crisis
Danny had a problem. If it was a big one, he couldn't tell yet but he was partially sure Clockwork was at fault for this. Or at least he wanted to blame his ghostly godparent who most likely just wanted to cause some chaos for entertainment with the pretext of helping Danny. Which was a very likely reason for why Danny had a problem right now.
As it was the former Fenton now Fenton-Wayne boy was pacing his room in the Manor trying to think what is next step should be, because as it was his 'new' family –Did new still apply if he was living with them for a little more than a year now? – knew him under three different Identities now. And to top it all off they were not aware that the three identities were all pretty much connected as one.
For one. His family, knew him as Danny, the space obsessed kid, who became a meta because of his ectobiology science obsessed parents and his teenager recklessness. A kid that was actually a genius if you gave him enough time for school and could make you anything out of a ancients be damed toaster. That was the Danny they mainly knew. The Kid they took in, let in on the family business and then chose, to the happiness of Alfred and dismay of some of his 'new' siblings, normal life over vigilante life.
Then they knew Phantom. A dead ghost hero that was helping the Justice League and Young Justice to help them deal with the aftermath of the huge fallout caused by the GIW, Guys in White or rather Ghost Investigation Ward. And while Danny didn't know he had apparently worked with nearly his entire family and that time he knew it now. Which was awkward because he had pretty much pestered one of his elder brothers about his condition until Red Hood, aka Jason, let Phantom help him. Ancient, things might get awkward if that secret is lifted. He had done a lot of things Batman, Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, Orphan and Robin had scowled him for. Thankfully they only thought of him as a dead teen hero and didn't know what a Halfa was. So they didn't make the connection, and he had yet to meet Signal, aka Duke as Phantom.
Now came the third identity, which totally did not happen by his choice. After all officially he hadn't accepted the throne yet and would only get it once he was dead dead not half dead. To bad ancient texts don't care about formalities. So when trouble hit the fan really hard the Justice League Dark had the bright Idea of getting some other worldly help. Which in other words was summoning the Ghost King. Oh boy, was it fun to learn that way that Danny could get summoned against his will. Clockwork did not give him that warning when he told him about the future of his afterlife. But best of all? Oh he doesn't get summoned as Phantom which would have made things maybe a bit easier, oh no. Life wasn't easy. He got someone's in some as a super weird black-green mass of a formless eltrich body with sharp teeth, claws and glowing green eyes with no pupils or irises. Hell Danny even scared himself when he saw his own reflection in a window and he didn't have a single idea how to change his form.
Let it be known that Danny acted then on purpose like he didn't know a single person in that room he had been summoned in right out of his bed and that he wasn't staring at his adoptive father like he needed help who interpreted his stare as the ghost king sizing him up. And Danny knows this because Dick had a good laugh about that at the dinner table with the rest of his siblings.
Now a smart person would probably come clean to his family and explain to them the three identities they knew him under and how they are connected.
To bad Danny wasn't 'smart' when it came to things like that. No in his panic and newfound awkwardness of the situation of what he had done on separate occasions with his identity as Phantom AND Ghost King, he decided to keep acting like he didn't knew them personally like the truely does. Really how hard could that be? Besides he liked the way his family treated him now. He didn't want to get treated differently because he was half dead, or a Ghost King. He liked that his family was treating him as plain old Danny who had an obsession with space and was their quirkily little brother with powers.
So that gave him even more incentive to keep the act up. Even if it was hard at times, especially if he got summoned out of nowhere. It would be easier if he could get a hang of the duplication power. He even had played with the thought of getting one of his ghost rogues to help but his family was perceptive. Maybe not perceptive enough to realise that all three identities were one and the same person but they would notice if Danny acted just slightly different or if Phantom was more of then usually. But somehow he still managed to keep it up.
But it was the hard way that he learned, Danny was bad at doing the 'talking' and realized that maybe Jazz was right and he was going to slip up one day causing huge misunderstandings like right now.
He stared down at Batman and Nightwing in his Ghost King form. Red Hood had his guns pulled on him, Wonder Woman and Superman looked like they where going to try to pull back Batman any second now while Nightwing, maybe at first was going to try to calm down the bat but Danny was pretty sure the eldest bat kid was now fiercely glaring at him too. He was also pretty sure the only reason he didn't see Red Robin or Robin threaten him too was because their super friends were somehow holding them back. For their own or his safety he doesn't know at the moment.
Because apparently the Bats did not fear fighting otherworldly beings to protect one of their own.
"What did you just say about Danny Fentons death?!" Batman grunted out and Danny just knew his adoptive father was glaring at him. Ancients Danny cursed his brain to mouth filter right now. As he had the collective hero scene before him staring at his Ghost King form. Would this be a good or bad moment to come completely clean or maybe he should find some kind of philosophical bullshit of 'All things death belong to him'....
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inkskinned · 3 hours
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hello. you left a neon pink post-it with pgs 194-359 due 9/12 in the book, by the way. it is now May 23rd and the library's printer is running out of ink. it jammed and tore my passport application. one of the librarians dutifully blacked out all my information (front and back!) before proceeding to use every unmarred inch as scrap paper.
i think maybe our (plural, inclusive) lives are connected. all of them. i have been thinking a lot about borrowing. about how people move through the world in waves, filling in the same spaces. i have probably stood on the same subway platform as you. we held the same book. all of us stand in the same line at the grocery, at the gas station. how many feet have stood washing dishes in my kitchen?
i hope you are doing well. the pen you used was a nice red, maybe a glitter pen? you have loopy, curling handwriting. i sometimes wonder if it is true that you can tell a personality by the shape of our letters. i'm borrowing my brother's car. he's got scrangly engineer handwriting (you know the one). it's a yellow-orange ford mustang boss. when i got out of the building, some kids were posing with it for a selfie. i felt a little bird grow in me and had to pause and pretend to be busy with my phone to give them more time for their laughing.
i have a habit of asking people what's the last good book you read? the librarian's handwriting on the back of my smeared-and-chewed passport application says the glass house in small undercase. i usually go for fantasy/sci fi, but she was glowing when she suggested it. i found your post-it on page 26, so i really hope you didn't have to read up to 359 in that particular book. i hope you're like me and just have a weird "random piece of trash" "bookmark" that somehow makes it through like, 58 books.
i wish the concept of soul mates was bigger. i wish it was about how my soul and your soul are reading the same work. how i actually put down that book at the same time you did - page 26 was like, all exposition. i wish we were soul mates with every person on the same train. how magical to exist and borrow the same space together. i like the idea that somewhere, someone is using the shirts i donated. i like the idea that every time i see a nice view and say oh gosh look at the view, you (plural, inclusive) said that too.
the kids hollered when i beeped the car. oh dude you set off the alarm, oh shit is she - dude that's her car!! one was extremely polite. "i like your car, Miss. i'm sorry we touched it." i said i wasn't busy, finish up the pictures. i folded your post-it into a paper crane while i waited. i thought about how my brother's a kind person but his handwriting looks angry. i thought about how for an entire year i drove someone to work every day - and i didn't even think to ask for gas money. my handwriting is straight capital letters.
i thought about how i can make a paper crane because i was taught by someone who was taught by someone else.
the kids asked me to rev the engine and you know i did. the way they reacted? you would have thought i brought the sun from the sky and poured it into a waterglass. i went home smiling about it. i later gave your post it-turned-bird to a tiny child on the bus. she put it in her mouth immediately.
how easy, standing in your shadow, casting my own. how our hands pass over each other in the same minor folds. i wonder how many of the same books you and i have read. i wonder how many people have the same favorite six songs or have been in the same restaurant or have attended the same movie premier. the other day i mentioned the Book Mill from a small town in western massachusetts - a lot of people knew of it. i wonder if i've ever passed you - and didn't even notice it.
i hope whatever i leave behind makes you happy. i hope my hands only leave gentle prints. i hope you and i get the same feeling when the sun comes out. soulmates across all of it.
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astraystayyh · 3 days
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chan x reader. hurt and lots of comfort. description of an anxiety attack and its aftermath (based on my own experiences).
please consider donating for gaza through my kofi. we have exceeded 1k dollars and our goal is 1500! a little goes a long way, you can donate as much as you can! thank you
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If you remain still long enough, breathe as quietly as you can muster, would the world forget you exist and pass your anxiety along to somebody else?
A selfish question, perhaps, but one that you can’t help but ask as you sit on your freezing bathroom floor, knees tightly hugged to your chest.
You don’t know how long it’s been since you’ve sat in this position. Time suddenly seemed elusive to you, as if a concept too hard for your frantic heart to grasp. All you knew was the ache of your limbs and the feeling that doom was just around the corner.
It was one of those days where you woke up feeling anxious. As if your brain had made up its mind about you in your sleep, deciding to hold you hostage to your anxiety. The bed was cold, your boyfriend Chan long gone to his studio, his lingering cologne the only indication he was ever there. So, you tried to distract yourself throughout the day— going on a walk, listening to music, cleaning your house, but it didn't help. Nothing seemed to help you.
So here you were, hours later, sat on your bathroom floor, trying to calm yourself down, all alone. But you could tell that it wasn't working, that you were on a losing race against your own body. Soon, you wouldn't be able to control your anxiety, soon it would turn into a full blown attack.
You wanted to call Chan, you truly did, but he was busy, and you refused to be a burden. Especially since he told you through texts that he'd be home late, so that definitely meant that he was making a new track in his studio.
So, you settled on rocking yourself back and forth, your hands slowly moving up to your shoulders, patting yourself down. This is what you used to do before knowing Chan. When you didn't have anyone around you who understood. You’d trick your bruised mind into believing you were hugged, the warmth of your own touch easing your anxiety a little.
But tonight it had the opposite effect. Tonight, you broke down in sobs, your breathing more irregular than ever. You curled into a ball on the floor, your hand moving to your chest in a futile attempt to slow down your heart. You could no longer breathe, the air in your lungs morphing into unkind fingers, choking you from within. White dots started dancing in front of your eyes, as your entire being shook like a lone leaf, left to fend for itself before the unyielding winds.
It suddenly got too much— the sobs, the pain, the ache. You couldn't bare it anymore. So with trembling hands, you unlocked your phone, calling the only person who would be able to calm you down. Chan. You put the phone on speaker, before tossing it on the ground next to you. You couldn't even muster the energy to hold it to your ear.
“Hi my love, I'm a bit busy right now can I call you later?” Chan's rushed words ring through the bathroom, your anxiety intensifying before the possible antidote. “Honey?” he asks again when he doesn’t hear your reply.
“Chan—“ you sob, the only word your weighted tongue allows you to speak of.
“I’m here, I'm here baby. I'm coming right now,” his panicked voice rings through your ears, following the frantic rush of your boiling blood. The sound of shuffling indicates that he’s getting up and leaving the studio, the confused ‘what’s going on?’ Han shouts confirms it.
The only reply you give him is your sobs, and his heart constricts, twists and turns at the sound of your cries. “Hey, hey, sweetheart. It’s okay, you’re okay. Breathe for me, okay? Take a deep breath with me, please—” his voice breaks, “please baby.”
You try, with all your will, to force a steady breath to rise from your stomach to the tip of your tongue. It escapes faintly, but Chan catches it. “You’re doing well, baby. Fuck—” he turns on his car’s engine. “Um… Minho bit my ass today.”
His words catch you off guard, the gears in your mind stopping for a split second. You remember a faint conversation under your covers, months ago, when you told him that distractions help you when you’re anxious. Force you to redirect your thinking somewhere else.
He remembered.
“Was it tasty?” you breathe out, and he chuckles, a sweet sound intermingled with a sigh of relief. “I don’t know, I need to ask him baby.”
You nod though he can’t see you, willing yourself to breathe again. In, out, in, out, Chan’s own breathing guiding you. “Should I bite him in return?” he asks. Tears pool in your eyes once again. “I’m close, so close,” he reassures.
“Okay.”
“To the biting?”
“Mm,” you manage to hum, as you hear the door of your apartment open, Chan's hurried steps echoing in your home. You knew he was looking for you but you couldn't call out to him. After painfully long seconds, stretching out as if to torture you even more, he finally opens the bathroom floor.
He finally finds you.
“It's okay, I'm here. I'm here,” he wastes no time before scooping you into his arms and hugging you. He knows that the pressure eases your anxiety so he tightens his hold without you having to say so, pulling you as close as two pages of the same book.
With you on his lap, he starts rocking back and forth, his words coming out a jumble mess. He can’t settle on what to say to you, switching between stupid jokes his friends told him, and words of reassurance he repeats like a promise.
His words break, his tongue faltering each time your sob gets louder, but he speaks. He speaks and speaks for twenty minutes, all to distract you, all to keep you grounded, and safe.
After a long while, the storm finally passes, leaving behind an excruciating exhaustion. You turn into a puddle in his hold, softening like malleable clay. He holds you as gently as a porcelain vase.
His warm palms settle atop your cheeks, his eyes gazing into yours for the first time since he got here. A sheen glaze taints them, one you know is mirrored in your own. His thumbs gently swipe away your remaining tears, grazing your face with a tenderness that makes your being ache. Your lips press a faint kiss onto his palm, his find their way to your forehead, and you feel it all, through his kiss. His fear, his relief, his love, soft and gentle, for you.
“Thank you,” you whisper, voice slightly hoarse as you kiss his forehead back.
“I’ve got you my love. Always,” he smiles at you softly, his dimples appearing like the sun after a cold day.
“Did Minho really bite you?” you giggle faintly, and he scratches his ear sheepishly. “No, but I don’t put it past him to do it.”
“Is that something you’re into?” You cock a teasing eyebrow at him, and he shakes his head, his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek. “Only if it’s you,” he says as he wraps his arm around your waist, picking you up swiftly.
“I’ll consider,” you yawn, wrapping your arms around his neck, your face finding a refuge in the crook of his neck.
“Why thank you,” he smiles as he leads you to your bedroom, settling you gently atop the bed. He quickly climbs in with you, bringing you so close to him, his warmth ends up spreading through your entire being, filling up every nook and cranny of your soul.
“I think as long as you’re near, I’ll always be okay,” you say, as your eyes close slowly, you miss the tender smile that blooms in his face at your words.
“Good thing I exist to be near you, then.”
please consider donating for gaza through my kofi. we have exceeded 1k dollars and our goal is 1500! a little goes a long way, you can donate as much as you can! thank you
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ashwhowrites · 2 days
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Yay! Requests are open!!! Can I get a smutty Eddie fic, where the reader is pregnant and they have sex, and it ends up inducing her labor. I feel like after the initial panic of "it's happening! it's happening!" Eddie would be so smug about it lol
I love this. I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
No idea how the process of labor is so this might be very unrealistic
⚠️smut, daddy and momma nicknames
A bit of daddy's help
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Y/N had been pregnant for a very long nine months. Her belly was huge and she could barely move around. At first she loved being pregnant, but now she wanted that baby out.
Eddie loved her pregnant glow, and he didn't want it to end. He loved helping her and being right beside her. He adored that she was growing their baby and he was happy it was with her.
He did feel bad for her. He knew how much it tore her body down, and how tired it made her. He did his best help. He rubbed her feet, he helped her walk, and he'd hold her stomach just to give her some relief. He'd do anything she asked.
~~~
"Still no baby," she grumbled as she wobbled out of the bathroom. "Spicy food? No go."
Eddie sat on the bed, with a sad smile.
"I'm sorry, baby." He said, she made her way on the bed. He held the blanket up as she slid in.
She sighed tiredly as the small movement sucked all the energy out of her. Eddie softly rubbed her stomach as he tried to soothe her.
"He'll come when he's ready" he said but her eyes snapped to him with a glare.
"He's on my time and I want him out now!" She growled.
Eddie tried to bite back his smile as he looked at her annoyed face.
"I know," he said, he leaned in and pecked her lips softly. He continued to rub her stomach, watching as her breathing calmed. "Was there anything else to try?" He asked. They have been through most of the list the doctor gave them but he wasn't sure what was left.
"There's one more thing," she said as she smiled. Her hand rested on top of his that was on her stomach.
"what's that?" Eddie asked
"Sex"
Eddie felt like his prayers were answered. A huge smile broke across his face.
"On it"
She laughed as he immediately stripped off his shirt. His tattooed chest came into sight as she felt herself already getting warm.
He leaned back down and held her face as he softly pressed his lips against hers. The kiss started sweet and gentle, but it didn't last long. Her hands were in his hair as he deepened the kiss. He kept one hand on her face as he slipped his tongue inside of her mouth. She moaned as she felt his tongue working against hers. He let his other hand wander down her body, slipping underneath her night tank top as he rubbed her belly.
The more he touched her, the more the kiss got hungry. Eddie having a huge pregnancy kink wasn't a shock to either of them. He waited years to fuck her without a condom, to fill her up with his cum. He craved to watch her belly grow and knowing it tied them together for life. He loved that anyone would see her on the street and know she was owned.
He pulled away for a few seconds before he kissed her again. Her left hand worked down his neck and down his back. He shivered as he felt her wedding ring tickle his skin, a reminder she was his for life.
He moaned as her tongue took charge of the kiss, and her right hand yanked on his hair as she pulled away.
"Ready to show me what you got, Daddy?" she purred
Eddie shivered at the name, his cock twitching in his boxers.
"Did you forget I'm the one responsible for the noise complaints? For filling you up so fucking good you got pregnant?" He challenged, a smirk on his face as he felt her body shudder.
He took his time to strip off her clothes. Removing her tank top and groaning at the sight of her swollen breasts and nipples. He reached forward, gently kissing the skin and flicking her nipples with his tongue. She moaned at the feeling, her hands in his hair. He moved down to her stomach, his big hands rubbing her bump as he kissed all around.
He didn't stay there long, removing his lips to strip the rest of her clothes, her hands losing the grip of his hair. He softly trailed up her legs, teasing her as he made it up to her thighs. He slowly trailed down her shorts. He enjoyed how she whimpered as she grew impatient. Then he tugged down her underwear, smiling at the sight of her puffy cunt.
"Gorgeous," he pissed as his lips softly kissed her clit. She jolted and her hands went back to his hair.
He didn't spend too much time between her legs. He knew both of them were so turned on that foreplay wasn't needed. But he still had to have a little taste. His mouth sucked on her clit as his fingers slipped inside of her.
Her head was thrown back as his skilled tongue and fingers worked together. She gripped at his hair and wanted to lift her hips but her body was too heavy. He made the most of it, his head twisting back and forth as he let his tongue touch everywhere.
She panted when he came back up for air. His chin soaked in her wetness, she clawed at his chest from the sight. He wiped his mouth and slammed his lips against hers, his fingers slipping out of her.
"Ready?" He breathed out, his body on top of her as he panted. His brown eyes look into hers for an honest answer.
"Yes," she said without a beat.
Eddie smiled and took off his boxers, lazily tossing them anywhere. He helped her turn on her side, then he went behind her. His lips were on her neck as he lifted her leg and placed it over his hip.
He listened to her sounds as he trailed his hand down and rubbed her swollen clit, she was so sensitive that she felt everything intensely. He rubbed her clit then slipped his pulsing cock inside of her.
He let out a loud moan as he continued to slip inside of her, her hands gripped the pillows as he sat fully inside of her. He was slow and soft at first, making sure she was comfortable. His left hand was under her head and his right played with her clit.
She loved feeling his hard chest against her back, the feeling of it slamming against her with each thrust. She could feel her eyes in the back of her head from feeling his hot breath against her neck. His growls and groans right into her ear.
"Love fucking you. Always feel so good wrapped around me," his words were hot in her ear as she shook. She whined at the compliments, her brain mush as she felt her body being taken care of in ways only her husband could.
"Just wanted Daddy's help to have a baby, huh?" He teased, he wished he had another hand available to rub her stomach. He was obsessed.
"Yes," she moaned, "yes, yes" her moans got louder as he went faster.
He could feel his heavy balls slamming against her. He didn't want to be too rough, clenching his jaw as he held himself back. This wasn't about him, it was to help her and help her have an orgasm.
"Need," she whimpered, her arm reaching back to touch him. She let her head wander until she felt his head. She gripped his hair as he growled louder.
"Need to cum?" He asked, his lips on her cheek
His fingers worked faster on her clit as she nodded. "Please,"
"Be daddy's good momma and cum all over me. Cum all over my fat cock,"
His words washed over like her orgasm. She felt that snap in her body as she gasped. The feeling went from head to toe as she came. Eddie fucked her through it, his fingers faster than ever against her clit as her leg shook on his hip.
When her moans turned to whines, he pulled his hand away. Softly thrusting inside of her, slowing down until his hips came to a full stop.
He slipped his soaked, still red and hard cock out of her.
"How was that?" Eddie panted as he moved her leg off of him and turned her on her back. His sweaty back against the mattress, he turned his head to look at her.
"Reminds me why I got pregnant in the first place," she laughed as she turned her head to look at him.
She squirmed as she took in his sweaty hair, his big smile with his perfect teeth, and the way his cheeks scrunched up. Her eyes moved down to his chest as it moved up and down quickly. Down his happy trail, following the line of hair, his dark curls and his thin hips peeked out from the sheet. The rest of his body was covered under the thin material.
"And that look reminds me why I got you pregnant," Eddie's chuckle turned into a moan as she turned her body and attached her lips to his neck.
"I don't feel anything, let's go again." She said against his skin
"Why don't we give it a second? We don't know how long it could take," Eddie explained through quiet groans as her hand began to travel down his chest. He could feel her cold wedding band against his hot skin, making him shiver.
He whined as she pulled her lips away, and her hand stopped right above his hard cock.
"I'm sorry. Are you saying you don't want to have sex again?" Her tone was accusing but she knew her husband. If sex was on the table, he was grabbing a chair.
"I just don't want to overdo it," he said softly
"Yeah I guess you're right," she sighed disappointed. She pulled herself away with a loud huff.
"We've been together for four years and married for one, and now you pick to listen to me?" Eddie asked in disbelief. "Come ride me, momma." He said with a smile as he tossed the sheet off of him.
She squealed with delight as she started to sit up, he helped her love gently and slowly. He eased her body on top of his, rubbing her thighs to soothe her as she got into the right position.
"I knew you wouldn't say no," she said with a smug smile, placing her hands on his hard chest.
"What's that saying?" he teased, his hot lips attaching to her neck. "Momma knows best?" she shuddered as he nipped at her skin.
He shuddered as she grabbed his cock, pumping it inside her hand before she lined his tip with her entrance.
His head fell against her chest as she sunk down on him, she took her hands off his chest. She leaned back and placed her palms on his thighs. The muscular and hairy skin underneath her hands.
He picked up his head as she softly began to move herself on top of him. He moved his left hand to hold her hip, softly encouraging her as she rolled her hips.
His right hand went straight for her bump. He softly rubbed her stomach as his eyes watched her body. Her eyes closed with bliss, the sweat on her hairline and the sweat that dripped down her chest.
Her body was a work of art and it always captivated him.
"So glad I married you," he smiled as he reached forward and cupped her face. Making her press her lips against him, her hands on his chest to balance. He felt her smile into the kiss.
He let her go back into her comfortable position, her hands back on his thighs. He clenched them as she gripped, her nails dug into the skin.
He reached forward and rubbed her clit.
The immediate touch was almost enough to make her cum. She panted hard as she lifted her hips as fast as she could to slam back down.
With a few more touches to her clit and Eddie bucking his hips up, had her cumming all over again.
But this time
She felt more than just cum soaking them, then he followed after. Moaning as he came inside of her.
"Is that?" Eddie asked, his eyes wide as he looked at the sheets.
"Stand me up!" She rushed out.
Eddie was quick to lift up her hips, his cum now adding to the mess below. He panicked as he slipped out from under her, he grabbed her hands and helped her off the bed.
As she stood, more liquid came out of her.
"It's happening!" She panicked, her eyes scared as she looked at her husband.
"Shh, it's okay! Let's get you dressed." He was quick to slip a shirt of his on her and some clean boxers.
He kissed her face, a big smile on his face.
"We're having a baby!" He said in awe
"NOT HERE! GET ME IN THE CAR!" she screamed.
He nodded and dressed himself as fast as he could. He grabbed all the bags and dropped them at the front door.
Then he grabbed her, helping her waddle to the car. He got her placed in the seat as a sharp pain went through her. She grabbed his hand and hissed through her teeth.
"Breath, baby, breathe," he said as he clenched his jaw. Her grip bruised his hand.
"I am BREATHING YOU BASTARD!"
"Where was that tone five minutes ago?" He teased, laughed at her glare, and kissed her nose. He ran back into the house and grabbed the bags.
Then he was off to the hospital
He reached over to let her hold his hand.
"I know you are terrified but I want you to know one thing," he said, his head turned to look at her.
She breathed as she looked over at him.
"I fucked you into labor," he said with a big smirk and wink sent her way.
"Oh shit, now that's all I'm gonna hear for the rest of my life." She said as she rolled her eyes.
~~~
"I can't believe you guys have a baby," Steve said softly as he looked at the small boy in Eddie's arms. Y/N slept in the bed beside them.
"I can't believe she allowed you to have sex with her," Robin laughed, her eyes on the little boy behind Steve
"Jealous?" Eddie snapped, a smirk on his face as she rolled her eyes.
"How did her water break? I want the whole story!" Nancy squealed excitedly.
The big smirk on Eddie's face got even more smug, which no one thought was possible.
"Well, we tried everything the doctor said, and the last thing on the list was all in my hands." The group looked at him confused as he continued to explain. "So, being the amazing husband I am. I turned her on her side and grabbed her left leg to put it on my hip. Then I slipped inside of her. Sweet and slow, she was so we-"
"WE GOT IT!" Dustin yelled as he covered his ears.
"You could have just said sex," Nancy said as she gagged.
"You wanted the whole story!" Eddie defended, "but the first time wasn't enough to induce the labor...or was enough for her." He gave a wink to Steve who rolled his eyes. "So we went at it again, like minutes later. She was all over me." Eddie bragged. "After her second orgasm, that was when she went into labor."
"Can't believe such a disgusting thing led to something beautiful," Dustin said, patiently waiting for his turn to hold the baby.
"Oh Dusty," Eddie laughed, "nothing about it was disgusting. Just you wait." Eddie said as he handed the baby off to Steve. Leaving his hands free to slam down on Dustin's shoulders.
"It'll be the best time of your life," he said as he walked over to her. He leaned down and kissed her forehead as she slept.
"You and him for the rest of my life."
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simpjaes · 2 days
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requested by: anon enemies to lovers, forced to sleep in the same bed [room] trope. wc: 1.3k tags: not rly enemies to lovers, more like enemies to enemies that fuck
Enemies to lovers Jay learning that this stupid fucking trip forces the two of you to interact. That alone is enough to piss him off and activate the petty part of his brain.
Enemies. That's a fucking fact.
Imagine how he felt when he learned his cousin is dating you and bringing you to the fucking family trip? Trust, he did just about everything to prevent it. Including sending you hateful messages, semi-threatening that if you showed up he would absolutely piss in your cereal.
Well, you showed up anyway. And unfortunately, no one bought cereal for the kitchen so it looks like he needs to find a different method of making you miserable.
What's even more unfortunate? His cousin has no idea that he hates you. And why does he hate you? Well, given that you rejected him all those years ago for prom in a hella humiliating way....does he really need to explain?
For years he was made fun of for it, and you laughed with everyone at him. Not with him, at him.
Fucking bitch. That's what you are.
And you continue to be that bitch this whole time too. Knowing he had a thing for you, unsure of if he still does but still acting like he does.You don't need to know that he'd definitely still hit that shit. In more ways than one. Across the head seems more appropriate at this point though.
"He needs to leave early." Jay's mother explains to him in a semi-whisper. "Guess the sea-food got to him."
Jay silently gives himself a high-five at the idea that you'd leave with your boyfriend, his cousin.Unfortunately, you don't. In fact, you over-stay your welcome solely because your boyfriend's family loves you so much and practically begged you to stay.
At least Jay has his own room, right? WRONG. Oh, his demise hits him in the chest that very next morning, learning that his bitch-ass parents replaced his cousin's room with a different family member. Apparently they had wanted to come but all the spots in the house were filled up.
Now, they're on their way and you're moving your shit to the living room.
"Jay, why don't you let her have your room? It's only polite."
"Fuck that" is what Jay would say if it weren't for his father looming with a death glare.
"No, no!" You gleefully cut in. "If he's okay with just sharing the room, I'll be okay!" He rolls his eyes. Just because there's a pull out couch in the room doesn't fucking mean he should have to share it. With you no less. ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・ Did you do that on purpose? Maybe.
Do you love your boyfriend with your whole heart? Not really.
What most people aren't aware of in this family is, well, your boyfriend isn't exactly the best person to be involved with. Oh, he left because he's feeling sick? No he didn't, you saw that text on his phone. Despite you loving his family, and his family loving you, neither of you really love each other these days. Additionally, neither of you really have the heart to break up due to the benefits you both get simply for holding the title of boyfriend/girlfriend.
So, you trying to pull one on Jay both before and after your boyfriend saw himself out the door feigning sick? Definitely on purpose. After all, if you and your boyfriend are past the point of even trying to make intimacy work, it's not so bad that you both find it elsewhere.
Kind of like a mutual relationship where's you're not dating except for when the family comes together and the two of you pretend that love hasn't fallen through the floor.
Imagine Jay's face when he found out, deep into the night where it's silent save for the rain pattering against the window.
"I'm not actually dating him, you know?" You blurt out of the silence, wanting to push somehow for Jay to admit that he still wants you. If anything, to boost your own confidence and force him to abandon whatever respect he has for his cousin to keep it under wraps. "He left to go fuck his actual girlfriend."
"Okay?" Jay huffs out, pretending he doesn't care but actually loving the juicy hidden secret. "What does that have to do with me?" "Well, Jay Jay-" You smile in the darkness, cuddling close against the pillow and lending a small chuckle at the way he's situated himself on the pull-out bed. "It has everything to do with you if you want to fuck me."
You hear him inhale at your words before breathing out in a shaking breath.
"You are so fucking full of yourself." He starts, lifting up so fast into a sitting position that he nearly feels lightheaded. "After the way you humiliated me? You think I want to fuck you now?!" You shush him quickly, wanting so badly to mock his inability of volume control. Which...that could be fun.
"Please, you've wanted to fuck me since you learned what fucking even was."
Fair, Jay thinks, as he narrows his eyes at your barely-visible figure in his bed.
"You're being ridiculous. I wouldn't stoop so low." He argues back, voice a bit weaker, like it's breaking. Then he flops back down onto the pull-out, ignoring the uncomfortable creaking of the bed.
"Relax. I'm just trying to get laid here, it's not like we have to date or anything."
As if that's not what Jay has wanted since fucking prom?! Casual sex?! With you? "You're kind of a whore, you know that?" Jay spits, aggressively rolling over to face the wall, not at all to hide the fact that he's absolutely about to shove his hands down his pants.
"Do you want me to be?" You encourage him to think like your boyfriend used to. "Want me to apologize for the way I treated you?" He remains silent, squeezing his eyes shut and willing for all of this to just be a dream, though he'd be fucking pissed if it actually was. "Don't you want to punish me for it?" You continue, softening your voice now, lifting yourself on the bed and crawling to the edge of it. "Make me say sorry? Make me regret the day I never let you do it in the first place?" "Fuck off." Jay tries to control himself. The need to absolutely fuck you into the mattress, shut that pretty mouth up? It's intense right now. "Stop trying to come onto me." And when you do, he's actually disappointed. He hears the way you crawl back into position and roll over in silence. The room stays quiet for a little while, but he can't sleep now. Arguably, you can't either. "You're so fucking annoying." Jay huffs, rolling off the pull-out and instantly getting on the bed with you, hovering over you, letting you feel how hard you've managed to get him. "If you're able to actually shut the fuck up, take your shorts off and roll over." You hum, delighted by his weak mind state. Loving that in a way, he admits it. Finally, he admits it. All those narrow-eyed stares at you weren't just from hate. He definitely wanted you, and he still does. You do as you're told with a mocking laugh, shoving your shorts down your thighs and rolling over for him. He makes quick work, already slapping his length against your ass cheeks before instantly pressing his tip into you with a pathetic, whiny little groan.
"Thought you'd be rougher." You smile against the pillow, only to feel his hand in your hair. He tugs you back with an uncomfortable arch now cramping at your back. "Thought you wanted to make me sorry.”
“Can you please shut the fuck up?” Jay groans, shoving his full and thick cock straight into you with a solid thrust. “Hm?”
Well, now you can. Because oh my god? He’s been this big the whole time? You could’ve been bouncing on this countless times already and you’re only now feeling how good it is? Crazy mistake on your part.
You couldn't mock him back if you tried right now, with the way he releases your hair only to push your head into the pillow, fucking into you so aggressively that you can barely even breathe. He really is making you sorry.
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vivwritesfics · 7 hours
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Hii!! Could you please write a Max verstappen x soulmate reader. Like they can speak in each other's minds and how they first met. Like fluff or angst or whatever you want . You make the call. Please 🥺🥺
LMAOOOO IM LITERALLY WRITING THIS FOR RHETT ABBOTT
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Nothing, just an inchident. Fucking asshole.
Those were the first words her soulmate ever said to her, the first time she heard his voice in her head. She stopped what she was doing, looking around with wide eyes.
What the fuck?
What the fuck?
And that was how it started. The two had be so fucking surprised, buy recovered quickly. They gave awkward introductions, without actually telling each other anything about themselves.
It took the two of them a moment to realise that, whatever they thought, the other person could hear.
It seemed the two of them hadn't shut up since.
She learnt pretty quickly that he loved to talk, that he loved explaining things. He was a nerd, he loved gaming. She could have listened to him go on about gaming for hours (and she often did).
She couldn't remember what she had told him. Definitely everything but her name. God, how long had it been since his voice first entered her head.
Hey, she said as she woke up.
There was usually no response as she waited for him to wake up. She'd tried to use this to work out where in the world he was, but he was always moving, always on different time zones.
A few hours later, there he was. Hello, schat, he said in her mind. A small smile crossed her face. Are you doing anything nice today?
He rarely spoke about his own day, she noticed. But it wasn't a problem. If he wanted to her know, she'd know. My dad got me tickets to see my local race with him, she replied, pausing her makeup to concentrate on talking to him.
There was a beat before he responded. You still there? She asked, pausing on her eye liner.
What race? Cars or horses?
Cars, she responded.
Again, there was a moment of silence. But then, Not the Formula One, right?
She thought back to what her father had told her. Yeah, the Formula One.
Her soulmate when quiet after that. There was a good few hours where she finished getting ready and went with her father to the race track. All that time she'd been trying to talk to her soulmate, and all that time she'd been getting nothing in return.
It was a little disheartening, thinking her soulmate didn't want to talk to her.
No, it was really disheartening.
As she and her father sat in the stands, she couldn't help but sulk. What had she done to upset him so bad he didn't want to hear from her? Of course he could hear everything she was thinking, but she didn't much care if he wasn't going to reply.
But then all twenty cars were on the track and the lights were flashing red, ready to go green.
I'm going to win this one for you.
It had been so unexpected, it nearly had her jumping out of her seat. What? Are you here?
As soon as I'm standing on that podium, you'll know it's me.
She must have realised it then, that her soulmate was down in the number on Red Bull car. She didn't take her eyes off of it for the entirety of the race (unless she was forced to). Holy shit, that was her soulmate down there.
And he did win it. Won it for her. She watched it all, him finishing first, the podium celebrations.
How do I get to you? She asked as she hopelessly looked around. Max Verstappen was her freaking soulmate!
Stay right where you are, schat. I'll come to you.
She told him where she was, apparently able to do that now she knew for sure who her soulmate was. And there she waited as he finished a debrief with the team and got changed.
But then he was striding towards her, cap pulled low. For so many years he'd been just a voice in her head. And now he was in front of her. Smiling down at her with surprise in his eyes.
"You're beautiful." Those were the first words he said to her, the first words that weren't echoing around her head.
"So are you." Wiping her hands on her jeans, she held one out and gave him her name.
Max took her hand and shook. "I'm Max," he said, wearing his usual pretty smile.
Holy fuck, Max Verstappen really was her soulmate.
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gojoluvs · 16 hours
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Forever yours
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⤿ Satoru Gojo x reader
Summary, The only reason why you even agreed to marry him was for your father. Now you wish you could go back in time and reject the offer.
Warning/ tags; angst, profanity, smoking, cursing, smut, cheating, mean gojo, emotional trauma, manipulation, gaslighting.
Genre; angst, cheating, infidelity, jik, Gojou x reader. Arranged marriage au! very ooc Gojo, Mean Gojo! CEO Gojo!
Notes: the tag-list is closed!! Ive reached the limit to tag anyone else :c. also sorry for the spelling errors / didn't catch :(
12k words
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Satoru sat across from his father, nervously fidgeting in his seat.
His father's stern gaze made him feel like a child again, and he was afraid of what was to come.
You, sitting next to him, could feel his tension radiating off of him. Your own emotions were mixed - anger, betrayal, and hurt all bubbling inside of you. But you did your best to remain calm and composed, even though the sight of your husband made your blood boil.
Placing a hand on your thigh, your husband's touch made you flinch. You quickly smacked his hand away, avoiding any contact with him. You made eye contact with him, your eyes displaying disgust and anger. How could he still try to touch you after what he did?
Smiling at his father, you tried to put on a facade of normalcy. You couldn't let his family know the truth about his infidelity. You grabbed a fork, trying to keep your hands busy and avoid any more unwanted physical contact.
But his father didn't seem to notice the tension between you and your husband. "So Y/N, how's my son treating you?" he asked with a smile. For a split second, your eyes traveled to your husband, who looked like he was going through it.
His eyebags were noticeably darker than before and his hair was a mess. It was clear that he was not doing well since you found out about his affair.
You hadn't been talking to him, sleeping in the guest bedroom ever since you caught him in the office with his lover. Memories of how heartbroken you were resurfaced, your stomach churning at the thought. You couldn't even look at him without feeling a mix of anger, hurt, and betrayal.
It was difficult being in the same room as your husband, knowing what he had done. You couldn't stand the sight of him, yet you had to put on a brave face for his family. It was exhausting, but you were determined to keep up appearances and not let anyone know the truth.
You smiled at his father, "Mm, he's been treating me okay," you said, stabbing the meat on your plate with your fork. You glanced over at Satoru, trying to gauge his reaction. His jawline was visibly tense, and his eyes refused to meet yours.
"Just okay? I expected him to treat you like royalty," his father chuckled, a knowing glint in his eye. You felt a nervous flutter in your stomach, unsure of how to respond.
But before you could say anything, Satoru's pleading look caught your attention. It was a look you had never seen before, and for a brief moment, you felt a twinge of pity.
But you quickly pushed it aside, determined not to let Satoru's pleading sway you. "He's doing just fine," you said, your tone firm. You reached for your glass of wine, taking a sip and letting the exquisite taste wash over your tongue. The wine was smooth and rich, a perfect complement to the delicious meal.
"I'm surprised you haven't produced an heir yet, any reason why?" His father said, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Satoru. The wrinkles on his forehead seemed to pop out more in his disapproval.
You, dressed in a stunning black mermaid evening dress with a white bottom hem, glanced at your husband who was wearing a simple black suit.
His hair was slightly messy from the argument you both had before coming to the event.
“There should be one soon," you replied with a forced smile, trying to change the subject.
You knew your husband was struggling, both emotionally and physically, but you couldn't bring yourself to comfort him. The tension between the two of you was palpable, and the constant arguing was taking its toll on both of you.
You glanced over at Satoru, his face pale and gaunt, his eyes filled with exhaustion and sadness. He looked like an absolute mess, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for him. But at the same time, you couldn't forgive him for what he did. You had been fighting for days about his affair with his lover, Jiyuu. The betrayal and hurt were still fresh in your mind.
As you took a bite of your food, you couldn't help but feel a sense of numbness. You had been going through daily treatments with Shoko, trying to conceive a child for the past few weeks. But you couldn't bring yourself to be intimate with Satoru anymore. The trust between you had been shattered, and you couldn't forget the pain he had caused you.
Despite his constant pleas and apologies, you had both agreed on getting a divorce after having his child. It was fulfilling his father's last wish and finally being able to be free from this broken marriage.
As you sat there in silence, you knew that this was the end of your relationship. The only thing holding you together now was the promise of a child, but even that couldn't repair the damage that had been done.
You had been trying to have a serious conversation with him for days now, but he seemed to always be lost in his own thoughts. He had been distant lately, always staying up late at night and drinking alone in the kitchen.
You couldn't help but wonder if he was having nightmares again. You knew he had been struggling with them for a while now, but he never wanted to talk about it. You wanted to help him, but it was hard to do so when you felt like he didn't even care about you anymore.
Your mind drifted back to the day you found out about his affair with his secretary. You were at the doctor's office, heart broken at the news when you saw them together. Your heart shattered into a million pieces as you realized that he didn't care about your feelings or your marriage.
You knew he was going through a lot, but at the same time, you couldn't shake off the resentment and betrayal you felt towards him. You were going to speak up, to finally confront him about everything, but then you stopped yourself. Why should you even care? He certainly didn't care about your feelings when he was cheating on you.
However, Satoru's stepmother chimed in, clearing her throat to get everyone's attention.
"Well, my son Yuta will be graduating high school soon, would you both perhaps like to attend the ceremony?" Satoru's stepmother beamed at you, her hand gently caressing her son's cheek as he sat next to her.
The boy was young, with slight eyebags, but definitely took after his mother. You could see the resemblance in their features and the way they both smiled. Before you could even respond, Satoru cut you off, his voice dripping with anger.
"We're not going to fucking attend a random's graduation," he spat, slamming his fork down on the table. You turned to look at him, taken aback by his sudden outburst.
"Why not?" his stepmother asked, her smile fading.
"Because it's pointless," Satoru retorted, his tone harsh. "I don't care about some kid I barely know graduating. And neither should you, Y/N.”
Satoru's words hung in the air, filled with resentment and anger towards his father and his new family. You could sense the tension in the room and felt uncomfortable being caught in the middle of it.
This was not the first time Satoru had expressed his dislike for his stepmother and her son, and it was clear he resented his father for moving on and starting a new family while neglecting his own son.
"Watch your language Satoru," his father scolded, his tone sharp and his eyes narrowed in disapproval. The tension in the air was thick and uncomfortable, making Satoru squirm in his seat. He could feel his father's disappointment like a weight on his shoulders, and it only fueled his anger.
"No, I don't understand why you want us to come to your stepson's graduation when you never even attended mine," Satoru's jaw clenched and his eyebrows furrowed in frustration.
"You never cared about me or mom and now you want to become a loving father for a kid who's not even yours?" He scoffed, the bitterness evident in his voice. "It's all for show, isn't it? Trying to make yourself look like a good father when you never gave a damn about me."
His father's expression hardened, his lips pressed into a thin line. "Don't you dare talk to me like that, boy."
"Why not? It's the truth," Satoru shot back, his voice rising in anger. "You never cared about me, and now you want me to pretend like we're a happy family? I'm tired of this charade."
"You will attend the graduation and show your brother the respect he deserves," his father's tone was cold and authoritative. "Or else."
Satoru let out a bitter laugh. "Or else what? You'll disown me like you did before? I don't give a damn about you or your new family. I won't be a part of your lies anymore." He stood up, his hands trembling with anger.
"You ungrateful brat," his father spat, his face turning red with rage. "I should have never taken you in. You're just like your mother, always causing trouble."
Satoru's fists clenched at his sides, his whole body shaking with rage. "I'm nothing like her. And I never want to see you or your sorry excuse for a family again." With that, he stormed out of the room, leaving his father speechless and seething with anger.
His father stood up, throwing his napkin on the table he followed Satoru. You sat there in disbelief in what just happened. His stepmother, also having the same face as you.
Sitting in silence you could hear your husband argue with his father, swallowing heavily you got up. “Im sorry,” You grabbed your purse and Satoru’s phone, pushing the seat back in the step mom followed you out to the hallway. You furrowed your eyebrows, trying to find your husband who was nowhere to be seen.
Your heart ached for him after what he said to his father. He looked like he was about to break down and this wasn’t making it any better. You jolted in surprise as satoru’s stepmother stood in front of you, a look if pity in her face.
"Let them talk, please," she said calmly, her eyes softening as she pulled your arm towards a nearby room. You followed her, feeling a mix of confusion and curiosity.
She slammed the door behind you, shutting out the sound of the ongoing argument in the other room. You could still hear muffled voices, but they sounded distant now. The woman quickly made her way to a cabinet, her hands moving frantically as she searched for something.
You stood there, unsure of what to do or say. Suddenly, the arguing stopped and everything went silent. The woman turned to face you, holding a small and soft box in her hands. It was shaped like a rectangle and looked delicate.
She walked towards you, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor. "I want you to have this," she said, her voice gentle yet determined.
You stood in the doorway, unsure of what to do or say. You stared back at Satoru's stepmom, her eyes filled with a mix of sadness and hope. She extended the box towards you, her hand trembling slightly.
You could feel the weight of the box in your hand as she placed it gently in your palm. The soft material of the box felt cool against your skin. You couldn't help but feel confused as to why she was giving you a random box. But her words echoed in your mind, "Please, open it."
As you slowly opened the box, your eyes widened in amazement. Inside was the most beautiful pearl necklace you had ever seen. The lustrous pearls reflected the light of the room, creating a mesmerizing effect. For a brief moment, you forgot about everything else as you stared at the necklace in awe.
You looked back up at Satoru's stepmom, wanting to ask her why she was giving them to you. But before you could say anything, she spoke. "I want you to have them," she said, her voice filled with emotion.
You looked back up at Satoru's stepmother, who was now looking at you with tears in her eyes. "These were Satoru's birth mother's pearls," she explained, her voice shaking with emotion. "I want you to have them." You were taken aback by her words and felt a lump form in your throat.
Without another thought, you extended your arms towards her, offering to return the necklace. But she shook her head, her tears now falling freely. "I couldn't possibly," you said, your voice cracking. You looked at her, unsure of what to do.
She sighed, her eyes filled with guilt as she spoke. "I used to be one of her best friends," she said, her voice strained with emotion. "And every time I see you," she paused, taking a step closer and placing a hand on your cheek, "you just remind me of her so much." Her eyes brimmed with tears, her voice breaking with each word.
You were utterly confused. He married his ex-wife's best friend? Slowly, you began walking towards the door, trying to process everything that was being said. Her comment still lingered in your mind - just like Satoru's mother? What did that mean?
As you reached for the doorknob, you couldn't help but feel a wave of confusion wash over you. What the hell was this lady talking about? Who was Satoru's mother and what did she have to do with you? You couldn't wrap your head around it, but one thing was for sure - something was definitely off about this situation.
You opened the door, shoving the pearl necklace into your purse, not caring if the stepmother followed you. The tension between the two of you had reached its breaking point, and you just wanted to escape. As you walked through the house, you noticed how quiet it was.
Your heart started to race as you called out for your husband, Satoru. But there was no response.
Your mind started to race with worry as you frantically searched every corner of the house, your anxiety growing with each passing moment. Where could he be? Panic started to rise in your chest as you thought about all the possibilities. You wanted to go home, to your own safe haven where everything was familiar.
As you placed a hand on your head, you felt a wave of exhaustion wash over you. The stress and fear were taking a toll on your body, and you wanted nothing more than to curl up in your own bed. But as you furrowed your brow in pain, you realized that you might not make it home.
You wanted to throw up badly, the overwhelming emotions and physical symptoms becoming too much to handle. You were desperate for answers, for your husband to appear and make everything okay.
But for now, all you could do was try to hold it together and wait for him to return.
As you walked towards the end of the hall, you couldn't help but feel a sense of dread wash over you. You turned around to see Satoru, your husband, pinned to the wall by his father. His father had a tight grip on the collar of his shirt, and Satoru's face was covered in blood. His hair was a mess and his clothes were torn.
Your heart raced as you saw the rage on his father's face. This was something you had never seen before. You could hear Satoru's strained breathing as his father continued to yell at him. Without a second thought, you sprinted towards them, pushing his father off of Satoru.
Your eyes narrowed at his father, your own anger rising. You turned to Satoru, who was slumped against the wall, unable to even hold his head up.
His eyes were unfocused and his breathing was shallow. Your hands trembled as you reached for his face, lifting it gently to make eye contact with his blue eyes that were void of any emotion.
You could see the pain and exhaustion in his face, and your heart broke for him. You wiped away some of the blood from his mouth with your thumb, the sight making tears prick at your eyes. "Are you okay?" you asked, your voice trembling with worry. You wanted nothing more than to take away his pain and make everything right again.
He didn't respond at first, his eyes still distant and void of emotion. But then, he slowly nodded his head, his voice barely above a whisper, "I'm fine."
As you held Satoru's face in your hands, you could see the pain and fear in his eyes. His father had always been strict, but you had never seen him act with such violence towards his own son. "What did you do to him?" you demanded, turning to face the man who had raised your husband.
"He disrespected me and our family name," his father growled, his eyes still filled with anger. "He needs to learn his place."
"He disrespected you?" you scoffed. "You're the one who's been disrespecting him for years. Treating him like he's nothing."
His father's face twisted into a sneer. "You don't understand. He's a disgrace to our family name. He's weak and worthless. He deserves to be taught a lesson."
You bristled at his words, feeling your own anger rise. "How can you say that about your own son? He's your flesh and blood, and you treat him like he's nothing. It's no wonder he's become distant and withdrawn."
His father's eyes flashed with fury. "He's a failure, just like his mother. I won't have him dragging our family name through the mud.
"You're the one who's dragging it through the mud," you retorted, stepping between him and Satoru's form. "You're the one who's so consumed with pride and tradition that you can't see the pain you're causing your own son."
"You will not speak to me that way," his father growled, his hand raised threateningly.
"I will speak to you however I see fit," you replied, your voice shaking with anger. You grabbed your husband making your way out of the house.
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You grabbed the small cotton ball from the first aid kit and carefully dabbed it with alcohol, making sure to disinfect it before bringing it up to your husband's cut lip.
He winced and hissed in pain as you gently dabbed the wound, his breathing becoming more labored. His shirt was nowhere to be seen, most likely discarded in a fit of frustration or ripped in the heat of the moment.
You rolled your eyes at his overreaction and continued to clean the cut. Your husband stared at you, his intense blue eyes practically piercing your soul. The bathroom light shone on his face, making his features stand out even more as he sat on the counter, towering over you.
Despite the tension and discomfort, you couldn't help but appreciate his handsome features and the way his eyes softened as he looked at you.
His eyes scanned your face, taking in every detail with a mix of pain and regret. His chest rose and fell with each labored breath, and his voice was barely above a whisper as he spoke.
"I'm sorry," he said, his eyes still locked on yours. You couldn't help but scoff at his words, feeling a surge of anger and frustration rise within you.
"Why are you apologizing?" you asked, your voice laced with bitterness. Despite your feelings, you couldn't help but reach for the wet towel and dab at the blood stains on his pale skin. He looked like a mess, his hair disheveled and his face bruised.
"Y/N," he said, his voice trailing off as he reached for your hand. Your heart skipped a beat at his touch, his warm fingers wrapping around your arm.
"Why are you doing this?" he asked, his grip on your waist tightening. "You know I hate you and yet you still try to make this marriage work."
You narrowed your eyes at him, feeling a mix of anger and confusion. "I don't know," you admitted, your voice softening as you met his gaze. "Can you please stop moving before I give you another bruise?"
He nodded, a small smile curling onto his lips as he allowed you to tend to his wounds. His eyes never left yours, and for a moment, you both were lost in each other's gaze.
As you pushed his white hair back and rubbed the blood off his face, you couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity and longing. Despite everything, there was still a part of you that cared for him, that wanted things to work out between you.
"Thank you," he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "For taking care of me, even though I don't deserve it."
You swallowed hard, trying to push down the lump in your throat. "I'm doing it because it's my job," you replied, trying to sound cold and distant. But deep down, you knew it was more than that.
He reached out and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "No, you're doing it because you still care," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
You pulled away, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach. "I don't care," you said, your voice betraying you.
He chuckled softly, his hand still resting on your waist. "You can keep telling yourself that, but we both know the truth."
You didn't know how to respond to his question, so you just focused on cleaning his wounds.
The room was quiet except for the sound of the running water and your gentle movements as you tended to his injuries. You tried to ignore the way his touch was making you feel, but it was difficult as his eyes were soft and his lips pursed into a thin line, flinching with every dab of alcohol you put on his cuts.
As you worked, you couldn't help but notice that his body was slightly bruised up, but there were no cuts except on his face. His lips had a gash and the top of his eyebrow was also cut. You furrowed your eyebrows in concern, wondering what could have caused such injuries.
You continued to clean his wounds, your fingers gently tracing over his skin as you wiped away the blood. His breathing became harder and you could feel his fingers clenching your waist. You couldn't help but feel a sense of protectiveness towards him, wanting to ease his pain and make him feel better.
As you stood there in the dimly lit room, you could feel the weight of his body leaning onto you. His warm breath tickled your neck as he let out a heavy sigh, his forehead resting against your shoulder.
You couldn't help but notice the familiar scent of your perfume filling his nostrils, a scent he had always loved. You were taken aback by his sudden vulnerability, but you kept your composure and gently placed the wet towel onto your thighs before wrapping your arms around him.
Caressing his back you could feel the tension in his body slowly dissipating. His breathing became more steady and you could hear his staggered breaths. "I don't hate you Satou," you whispered softly, trying to reassure him.
"And I hate that I can't bring myself to hate you." You could feel his grip on you tighten as he leaned into your embrace.
Placing your arms on his head, you brought his face to yours. You could see the exhaustion and pain in his eyes, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him.
"Even though you might be killing me," you continued, your voice barely above a whisper, "I still find myself waiting for you." You gently placed your palms on his cheeks, squishing his soft and pale skin between your fingers.
His eyes wandered all over your face, taking in every feature as if he wanted to remember every detail. You could see the guilt and remorse in his eyes, and it made your heart ache.
He swallowed heavily, his adams apple jolting with the movement. "I'm so fucking sorry, Y/N," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. Tears glistened in his eyes and his nose turned bright red, a sign that he was truly upset.
But you couldn't accept his apology, not after everything he had put you through. You lowered your gaze, grabbing a towel and gently dabbing it onto his bruised and cut face. He winced slightly at your touch, but you continued to tend to his injuries. It was a familiar routine, one that had become all too common in your arranged marriage.
But today was different. Today, he had finally shown some remorse for his actions. And yet, it was too little too late.
You had already made up your mind to ask for a divorce, tired of living in a loveless and abusive marriage. "I'm not going to accept your apology, Satoru," you said firmly, your voice tinged with sadness. You said softly, your eyes meeting his. "I can't keep living like this. I deserve better."
He watched you with his mouth closed, not saying a single word to you but rather admiring you under the bathroom light.
As you finished cleaning his face, you couldn't help but comment on his appearance. "Have you been sleeping? You look like shit," you said, worry evident in your tone.
You grabbed the towel, rinsing it and squeezing the blood off before using it to wipe his face one last time.
He sighed and backed away from you, taking the towel from your grip. He brought it up to his face and rubbed it, his face now cleaner than before. You couldn't help but notice the tension in his jaw as he watched you, and you wondered what was going through his mind.
“Yes,” He said sighing he backed up from you, taking the towel away from your grip. He brought it up to his face and rubbed it, his face cleaner than before.
His usually bright eyes were now dull and his usually perfect hair was disheveled. You couldn't let this continue, so you decided to confront him about it.
"Bullshit Satoru, I can see your eyebags getting worse everyday," you said firmly, propping yourself off the sink and approaching him. He followed you silently into your bedroom, looking slightly guilty.
You walked over to his closet and slowly opened the door, revealing a small room filled with his clothes and belongings. You reached in and pulled out one of his sleeping t-shirts, knowing it would be more comfortable for him. Turning off the lights and closing the door, you handed him the shirt.
But as you expected, he hesitated. "I can't put it on, my arms are kinda messed up right now," he said, giving you an awkward smile. You rolled your eyes and instructed him to put his hands up. With gentle and steady movements, you helped him put on the shirt, making sure not to cause him any pain.
Walking towards the door of the guest bedroom, your husband Satoru's voice stopped you in your tracks. You turned to look at him, his body already tucked under the covers and his face still bruised from the fight earlier.
Despite his injuries, he still managed to look cute, and you couldn't help but feel conflicted. "Goodnight Satoru," you said, trying to hide the hurt in your voice as you grabbed your nightgown from the other side of the bed.
But something in your husband's brain was telling him not to let you go just yet. "Y/N, wait," he called out softly, his hand reaching out towards you.
You hesitated, your hand on the doorknob, as you looked at him with a mix of emotions. "Please, sleep with me tonight," he pleaded, his voice filled with longing.
You scoffed, feeling a mix of anger and sadness at his request, but before you could open the door and leave, he spoke again. "I can only sleep when I know you're with me, so please," he begged, his voice slightly louder this time.
You let out a heavy sigh, feeling the weight of exhaustion and stress from the day. As you removed your dress, your hand instinctively went to your forehead, trying to massage away the tension. You changed into your comfortable nightgown and made your way to the bed, grateful for the warm and inviting covers waiting for you. Your husband, who had been sitting on the bed, gazed at you with concern in his eyes. You climbed into bed, facing him and oddly finding comfort in his presence.
You traced your finger gently over the cut on his cheek, a reminder of the fight he had with his father, and felt a rush of emotions flood through you. Despite the arranged marriage and the supposed hate between the two of you, there was an undeniable chemistry and attraction that simmered between your bodies.
Satoru's hand rested on your waist, his thumb gently caressing your skin, as he leaned in closer to you. You could feel his warm breath on your neck, sending shivers down your spine.
Without hesitation, you placed your hand on his face, feeling the roughness of his stubble against your palm. As your fingers traced his lips, he let out a low hiss, his eyes filled with hurt.
You could feel his warm breath on your neck as he nuzzled closer, his arms wrapping tightly around you. The scent of his cologne filled your senses, as you ran your fingers through his soft, white hair.
You could feel his heart beating against your chest, matching the rhythm of your own. “Goodnight toru,” You hugged him back just as tightly, cherishing this intimate moment between the two of you.
“Goodnight Y/N,” He mumbled his voice muffled against the skin of your neck.
The moon light shined against your face, his body deep into yours. You wanted to get up and leave once he fell asleep but for some reason you found yourself comforting him as he slept. Caressing his hair and tracing circles onto his back.
That familiar warmth of his filling your body. Waiting for a few minutes for him to fall asleep, you could hear that familiar sound of his breathing. The small snores coming from your husband, his breath calm.
The moonlight cast a peaceful glow on your husband's face as you lay in bed together. His body was intertwined with yours, and for a moment, you felt content.
But as his breathing slowed and he drifted off to sleep, you knew that this was just a temporary moment of comfort. You wanted to get up and leave, as you had done countless times before, but something held you back.
You gently stroked his hair and traced circles on his back, you couldn't help but feel a sense of sadness. You knew that once he woke up, he would go back to treating you with coldness and indifference. But for now, in this moment, you could pretend that everything was okay.
As you tried to get up from the bed, his grip tightened around you. "Don't go," he mumbled in his sleep. You froze, not knowing how to respond. He hated you, or at least that's what he had made you believe. But in this moment, as he held you close, it seemed like maybe there was a small part of him that cared.
And for the first time in a long time, you felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, things could change between the two of you. But for now, you would stay by his side, basking in the warmth of his body and the sound of his breathing, hoping that this moment would never end.
"Why do you do this to me?" you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them. He stirred, his eyes opening slightly as he looked at you with a mix of confusion and hurt.
"I don't understand why you treat me this way," you continued, tears welling up in your eyes. "I want to hate you, but I can't. And it's killing me."
He didn't say anything, but his grip on you tightened even more, pulling you closer to him. You could feel his heart beating against your chest, and in that moment, you knew that he felt something for you, even if he couldn't admit it.
"I'm sorry," he finally whispered, his voice barely audible. "I don't know how to be any different."
He didn't say anything, but his grip on you tightened even more, pulling you closer to him. You could feel his heart beating against your chest, and in that moment, you knew that he felt something for you, even if he couldn't admit it.
You couldn't help but feel a sense of sadness and longing as you looked at him, knowing that he hated you but also knowing that there was a part of him that was starting to love you. It was a complicated and painful situation, but you couldn't deny the feelings that were growing inside of you.
"I wish things were different," you said softly, your voice trembling with emotion. "I wish you could love me the way Im starting to love you."
He didn't respond, but you could see the pain in his eyes as he looked at you. You both knew that the situation was complicated and that there were no easy solutions. But in that moment, you felt a sense of hope that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for the two of you to find a way to make it work.
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Jiyuu couldn't help but giggle as she leaned in closer to the worker, placing her hand on his arm.
She couldn't help but notice how defined his muscles were, even though he was wearing a long sleeve shirt. She could practically see every contour and ripple of his muscles.
"Can you please ring that up for me?" She pouted her lips, giving him a flirtatious smile. The worker looked flustered but nodded quickly, taking the gorgeous chanel dress to the front of the store.
As she waited, Jiyuu sipped on the complimentary champagne, enjoying the luxurious atmosphere of the high-end boutique. Her heels clicked on the shiny marble floor as she browsed through racks of designer clothing, feeling like a celebrity.
She walked towards the cashier of the store, feeling a pang of jealousy and annoyance. Her friend, who was browsing through the coats, noticed her expression and raised an eyebrow.
"You know, I still can't comprehend how my Satoru is still with that bitch Y/N," she muttered, tilting her head to get a better look at her friend.
Her friend let out a giggle and said, "Maybe he's falling for her." She then proceeded to try on a coat and check herself out in the mirror. "And all your hard work to seduce him would have been for nothing."
Jiyuu rolled her eyes and grabbed a pair of shoes, calling for the worker to ring them up as well. "That's not funny," she bit her lip in frustration.
Ever since you caught Satoru and her together in the office, he had been acting distant and cold towards her. It was as if he was slipping away from her grasp.
"She can't even give him a child, meanwhile I'm here waiting for him to leave her," Jiyuu sighed, her frustration growing. Her friend could barely hold back her laughter at the situation.
As she paid for her items, Jiyuu couldn't help but feel anxious and worried about her relationship with Satoru. She knew she had to do something soon before it was too late.
The two women made their way through the busy streets of the city, the warm sun shining down on their faces. As they walked, they chatted about the latest gossip and news in their social circles. Suddenly, Jiyuu's friend turned to her with a sly smile.
"You know, if he does leave you. Why don't you just go for Y/N's ex?" she suggested. "I heard he's a well-known CEO...and quite the catch."
Jiyuu's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Is that so?" she replied, her tone dripping with interest. Her friend nodded, her own excitement evident.
"There's going to be an event here tonight and I heard all the big names from Tokyo will be there. Including him."
"Do you know where?" she asked eagerly, her pace quickening. Her friend pulled out her phone and checked the event details.
Jiyuu's friend nodded, her eyes scanning the street for any familiar faces. "Yeah, it's at the Mori Art Museum in Roppongi. You should come with me, we can scope out the competition and maybe even catch a glimpse of the elusive ex-boyfriend."
Jiyuu's heart raced with excitement at the thought of seeing her ex again, and potentially getting revenge by getting close to his rival
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Jiyuu's heels clicked on the luxurious floor, a cup of wine in her hand. Her long brown hair was perfectly curled, cascading down her back. She wore a beautiful silk green dress and had recently splurged on a pair of Chanel heels, which adorned her feet with elegance.
As she walked through the art gallery, Jiyuu couldn't help but feel like all eyes were on her. She was the center of attention, the star of the show. She smiled and greeted everyone she passed, her eyes frantically searching for any sign of Toji or Satoru.
Taking a sip of her expensive wine, Jiyuu savored the taste and relished in the fact that only the wealthy could afford such a luxury at an art gallery. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and made her way towards her friend, who was wearing a stunning dark blue gown.
"Jiyuu!" her friend exclaimed, pulling her into a tight hug. "You look absolutely gorgeous tonight." She stepped back, admiring Jiyuu's outfit. "I mean, you always look gorgeous, but tonight you're on a whole other level."
Jiyuu laughed and thanked her friend, feeling a sense of pride and satisfaction at her appearance. But just as quickly, her friend's expression turned serious.
She turned around, as she pulled a man by her side, meeting he sight of a tall and broad-shouldered man. Her heart started to race as she fully took in his appearance - the dark, intense eyes that seemed to be staring right at her.
“Toji, meet Jiyuu, a friend of mine," her friend said with a smile before leaving the two of them alone to chat.
Jiyuu couldn't help but notice the scar on his lips, the way his black hair fell slightly in his face, and the overall intense aura he exuded. She couldn't deny it - he was undeniably hot. He smirked at her and grabbed her hand, bringing it to his lips for a kiss.
"Nice to meet you, Jiyuu," his deep, husky voice sent shivers down her spine as his adam's apple bobbed up and down with each word.
He was dressed in a sharp black tuxedo that showed off his well-built body. He practically towered over Jiyuu, making her feel small in comparison. "Nice to meet you too," she managed to say with a smile, unable to tear her gaze away from him.
As she finished her wine and placed the glass on a passing server's tray, she couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement at the thought of getting to know this intriguing man.
She cleared her throat and followed him around the gallery, her eyes scanning the various pieces of art. She couldn't help but feel a bit confused by some of them. "What do you think?" she asked, turning to look at his puzzled expression.
He looked absolutely baffled, as if he didn't know what was going on. "To be quite honest, it's a bit...shit," he said, turning to look at her with a slight smile on his face.
She couldn't help but giggle at his honesty. "It's okay if you don't know art that well," she reassured him, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards another painting. It was practically identical to the one they had just seen.
"This one's good, no?" she asked, batting her eyelashes at him. He stood there with his hands in his pockets, looking unimpressed. "No," he replied bluntly.
She couldn't contain her laughter as she led him to the next painting, already anticipating his reaction. It was a similar style to the first two, but she couldn't help but admire it. "What do you think of this one?" she asked, hoping he would appreciate it more than the others.
He looked at it for a few moments before finally nodding his head in approval. "I actually like this one," he admitted, surprising her.
As they continued to make their way through the gallery, she couldn't help but enjoy his honest and sometimes humorous commentary on the art. Despite their differing opinions, she was glad to have someone to share the experience with.
They sat down at the bar, ordering drinks and continuing their conversation. Jiyuu mentioned how she worked as a secretary and Toji talked about his job in finance. They both shared their dreams and aspirations, and Jiyuu couldn't help but feel drawn to Toji's passion and drive.
“You’re quite the comedian aren’t you?” She smiled sipping on her drink.
"I'm glad I can make you laugh," Toji replied, taking a sip of his drink. "It's just my way of making this stuffy art gallery a little more bearable."
Jiyuu laughed again, leaning against the bar. "Well, I appreciate it. I don't think I could have made it through this exhibit without you."
She stared at Toji her eyes scanning all over the mans fave and body. She felt goosebumps just by the way he was looking at her, like if she was his prey. “So what do you want in life Toji?”
Toji chuckled, looking down at his drink. " I think someone to share it with. Someone who's kind, loving, and understanding."
Jiyuu's heart skipped a beat as she saw an opportunity to make her move. "Well, I can definitely relate to that. I just want a loving husband who I can share my life with."
Toji's eyes met hers, a spark of interest in them. "Is that so? Well, I think we may have more in common than I thought."
Jiyuu smiled, feeling a sense of triumph. She knew she had Toji's attention now.
"Well, I do have a way with words," Toji replied, his mischievous smile never fading. "But I have to say, you're not so bad yourself."
She placed her hand on his arm, giving him a flirtatious smile. "Well, I can be that wife for you," she purred, hoping to spark some interest in him.
Toji chuckled, gently removing her hand from his arm. "As flattering as that is, Jiyuu, I think I'm just fine being single for now. But I appreciate the offer."
Jiyuu's smile faltered, but she quickly recovered and continued to flirt with him. As the night went on, she couldn't help but feel a bit guilty for using Toji in her plan to seduce him. But she pushed those thoughts aside, reminding herself that this was all for her own happiness.
And if Toji ended up being a part of that happiness, then it would all be worth it.
Just in the other side of the art gallery you had walked out of your car, your hand resting on Satoru’s arm. You were dressed in an exclusive Chanel 94' blue flowy dress, your hair styled up in a beautiful updo that perfectly complemented your outfit.
Satoru, your husband, walked beside you, his hand resting on your arm. Despite the obvious cut on his lip from the fight two days ago, he still looked dashing in his classic yet stylish suit. As you approached the front of the gallery, you could feel the stares and whispers of the people around you, admiring your elegant appearance.
Climbing up the stairs, you gripped onto Satoru's arm for support, not wanting to trip in your heels. The cameras were already flashing as you reached the top, the photographers eager to capture a picture of the power couple.
"Miss Gojo, please look over here," one of the photographers called out, and you turned towards the cameras, posing with your husband as they snapped away. It was the opening of a brand new art collection, designed by one of Satoru's friends.
As the cameras continued to flash, you couldn't help but lean your head on your husband's shoulder, feeling grateful for his presence by your side. You ignored the questions about his cut lip, not wanting to spoil such a special night.
Finally, you reached the entrance of the art gallery, and you immediately let go of Satoru's arm, earning a look of guilt in his eyes. But you simply smiled and walked inside, eager to see the beautiful art pieces that awaited you.
The art gallery was bustling with people, the air filled with the excited chatter of guests admiring the beautiful artwork on display. As you walked in, you couldn't help but pause and take in the stunning view of colorful paintings and sculptures adorning the walls and floors.
Your husband, Satoru, walked beside you, his arm securely around your waist as he guided you through the crowd.
The room was filled with soft lighting, casting a warm glow on the walls adorned with beautiful paintings. Each artwork was unique, showcasing different techniques and styles.
A familiar face popped up in the bustling crowd, causing a smile to immediately spread across your face. "Sukuna?" you asked, making your way over to him.
He turned to look at you, his red eyes scanning your face before returning the smile. "Y/N, it's nice to see you again," he said, his pink hair standing out even more in the dimly lit gallery.
"How have you been?" he asked, guiding you around the room as you caught up on each other's lives.
Meanwhile, your husband stood off to the side, watching you with a mix of curiosity and jealousy. Satoru narrowed his eyes, feeling a twinge of envy as he watched you smile and laugh with another man.
He couldn't quite explain why, but he couldn't shake off the feeling. Trying to distract himself, he grabbed a glass of wine and downed it in one gulp, feeling the liquid burn down his throat.
"Listen, I know you graduated from Columbia University," he said, his voice sincere. "And if you ever need a job in finance, I own a private equity and I would be delighted to have you work for me."
Your eyes sparkled with excitement at the thought of being able to go back to work. It had been a while since you had a steady job, and this opportunity was too good to pass up.
"Really?" you asked, your smile growing wider.
"Absolutely," he replied, his red eyes scanning your face. "I would be honored to have you as one of my associates."
A glimmer of hope shined in your eyes as you thought about the possibilities this job could bring. You thanked him profusely, feeling grateful for the offer.
"Well, I would be delighted," you said, a sense of relief washing over you. Suddenly, you felt someone's gaze on you and turned to see your significant other looking at you with pride and admiration. You smiled, grateful for their support and excited for this new opportunity in your career.
Satoru couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy as he watched you from the other side of the art gallery. His eyes never left you as you laughed and giggled, your chest rising and falling with each breath. Seeing you with Sukuna, his rival, made the pit of his stomach churn. He wanted to go over and steal you away, but he knew better than to interfere.
As you walked around the gallery, admiring the artwork, Satoru couldn't help but notice how your smile seemed to light up the room. It was a smile he had never seen directed at him before.
His icy blue eyes met yours, and for a moment, it felt like the two of you were the only ones in the room. But then you leaned in and whispered something to Sukuna, a genuine smile on your face. Satoru's jaw clenched as he watched the two of you, feeling a surge of possessiveness wash over him.
When you finally left Sukuna's side and walked into a separate room, Satoru couldn't resist following you. He wanted to know what had made you smile like that, what had made you whisper to Sukuna.
As you walked towards the room, your heels clicked on the polished wooden floor, adding a sense of elegance to the atmosphere. Your dress flowed gracefully behind you, catching the light as you moved.
Suddenly, you were approached by a waiter holding a tray of champagne glasses. "A drink Miss? Complimentary from the artist," he offered with a smile.
You declined politely, wanting to fully immerse yourself in the art. As you entered the room, you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and wonder. The paintings seemed to come to life, drawing you in with their intricate details and vibrant colors.
You walked closer to each one, admiring the brushstrokes and composition. Your husband joined you, both of you silently taking in the beauty of the paintings. It was a truly magical experience, being surrounded by such incredible artwork.
As you stood in front of the painting, you couldn't help but feel drawn to it. The image of two people hugging, their faces obscured but their body language conveying a sense of tension and distance, captivated you. The soft, muted colors and smudged lines only added to the painting's allure, making it both mysterious and alluring.
You could feel his gaze on you, but you were too caught up in the painting to turn and meet his eyes. It was as if the painting had cast a spell on you, and you couldn't look away.
"It's nice, isn't it?" Satoru finally spoke, breaking the silence. You tore your gaze away from the painting to look at him, noticing the way his eyes sparkled as he watched you.
"It's beautiful," you replied, your hands dropping to your sides, just inches away from his.
You could feel the heat radiating off of his hand, as if he wanted to take yours and interlock your fingers with his. Your heart skipped a beat at the thought, but you pushed it away, knowing that you were both just admiring the painting together.
But as you looked at him, his chest rising and falling with each breath, you couldn't help but admire his own beauty.
"It seems so familiar to me," you said, tilting your head slightly as you studied the painting.
"Like if I was the one who painted this." Your hand brushed against Satoru's, and he immediately looked down at your hand, his eyes lingering there for a moment before meeting yours again.
His gaze was intense, and you could feel your heart rate quickening.
You were struck by how he didn't need to say a word to express his admiration for you. He simply took in your appearance, mesmerized by the way your eyes sparkled as they scanned the paintings in the room. As your hand interlocked with his, you were surprised to find that you didn't flinch at his touch.
Instead, your body seemed to naturally gravitate towards his, fitting together like puzzle pieces.
As you turned to face him, you couldn't help but notice the way he looked at you - like you were the only thing that mattered in the room. His hand tightened around yours, pulling you closer to him. You could feel his cold palm against your warm skin, sending shivers down your spine.
Lost in the intensity of his gaze, you barely registered as his free hand reached up to gently touch your face. His touch was electric, sending a jolt of excitement through your body. Without a word, you both stood there, taking each other in.
Finally, unable to resist any longer, you leaned your head against his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart.
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you closed your eyes and savored the moment, not wanting it to end. In that moment, nothing else mattered except the two of you, lost in each other's presence.
You were hesitant to let go as well, but you knew you needed to give him some space. As you stepped back, you couldn't help but smile at him, feeling the warmth of his embrace still lingering.
“Can you get me some water?" you asked, your voice soft and a little hoarse from talking all night. "I feel a bit parched." He nodded, understanding your request, and slipped away from your grasp.
As he left the room, you could hear the faint murmur of voices coming from the main gallery where everyone was gathered. You took a moment to catch your breath and calm your racing heart before joining them.
Turning a corner, he spotted his friend Kento, surrounded by a group of people who were admiring his artwork. Satoru greeted Kento with a smile, happy to see his friend doing well in the art world.
Approaching Kento, he couldn't help but smile at his friend's surprised expression. "Nanami!" he exclaimed, and they exchanged a warm hug.
"How are you, Satoru?" Kento asked, tucking his hands into his pants. "I'm doing good," Satoru replied, his excitement growing.
"Listen, I was wondering how much you're selling the 'J'adore' painting for." He licked his lips in anticipation, knowing that he needed to have this painting.
Kento chuckled and placed a hand on Satoru's shoulder, "Someone's already offered to buy it, but maybe there's another painting you'd like?" he suggested, scanning the room for another option.
But Satoru was determined to have the 'J'adore' painting. "Listen, whoever the person is paying for it, I'll triple their offer and pay it myself," he stated firmly, a determined look on his face.
But before Kento could respond, Satoru's gaze fell upon a familiar face at the bar. His smile faded as he watched his ex-girlfriend laughing and chatting with another man. He quickly excused himself from Kento's presence, his mind now occupied with thoughts of the past.
Satoru's face twisted in anger as he saw Jiyuu talking to Toji, another man. He couldn't believe she would betray him like this. "What the fuck are you doing here?" he spat, his eyes narrowing in confusion.
Jiyuu rolled her eyes, her attention still focused on Toji. "What, I can't come to these events anymore?" she retorted, ignoring Satoru's presence.
Fueled by disgust and rage, Satoru grabbed Jiyuu's arm and forcefully pulled her away from Toji. She snarled and tried to resist, but he was stronger.
He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her outside, away from the prying eyes of the people inside the gallery. His grip was tight and his face was twisted in disgust.
"What the fuck were you doing talking to him?" he spat, his voice full of anger. Jiyuu rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, a defensive stance she took whenever Satoru got like this. She looked at him with no emotion on her face, making Satoru even more mad.
"He's just a friend," she said, her brown hair slightly messy from their argument. She tried to explain, but Satoru was already past the point of listening.
"I don't care, we're done Jiyuu," he said, his eyes narrowing at her. Jiyuu felt like the world came crashing down on her, her eyes widening as her arms fell to her sides.
"What? Satoru-" she started, but he cut her off with a scoff.
"I said we're done Jiyuu. I'm done with you and I want you to never contact me again," he said, his tone final and cold. Jiyuu couldn't believe what she was hearing. After all they had been through, he was just throwing her away like she meant nothing to him.
"Staying with you after marrying Y/N was a mistake," he added, the words hitting Jiyuu like a punch to the gut.
Jiyuu's heart was pounding in her chest as she listened to Satoru's words. The man she loved, the one she had just married, was telling her that staying with her was a mistake. It felt like a punch to the gut, the words hitting her with a force she couldn't ignore.
Tears welled up in Jiyuu's eyes as she shook her head, desperately grasping at Satoru's arm to stop him from leaving. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. “Satoru, you don't know what you're talking about!" she cried out, her voice shaking with emotion. "She's manipulating you, can't you see that?"
But Satoru pulled his arm away from her, his expression hard and determined. "No, she actually listens to my problems and doesn't disregard my feelings. It's over, Jiyuu," he repeated, his words like a knife through her heart.
Tears streamed down Jiyuu's cheeks as she struggled to stay composed, her mind processing each word with agonizing slowness.
She shook her head again, unable to accept what was happening. "No, Satoru, I'm not letting you walk away from this, from me," she pleaded, her voice breaking with emotion.
Her hands came up to cover her mouth as she tried to stifle her sobs, but they escaped uncontrollably. It felt like her entire world was collapsing around her, and she couldn't do anything to stop it.
Her attention was immediately caught when she saw you walking outside, your face etched with confusion as you spotted her and Satoru standing face to face. Your eyes widened in disbelief as you realized it was your husband in front of you. “Satoru?”
He turned to look at you, his eyes softening as they met yours. But before he could say anything, Jiyuu appeared out of nowhere and sprung at him, her lips crashing onto your husband's. You stood there, completely baffled and shocked at what you were witnessing - your husband kissing another woman.
You felt sick to your stomach, wanting to throw up right then and there. The sight of your husband being unfaithful to you was enough to make your blood boil. You couldn't believe what was happening before your very eyes.
As Jiyuu pulled away from Satoru, you couldn't control your emotions any longer. With a clenched jaw and tears in your eyes, you stomped over to him and pushed him away from Jiyuu.
"Y/N, wait-" he started to say, but before he could finish, your hand connected with his cheek in a loud slap. His face turned to one of shock and surprise.
You bit your lip, trying to hold back your tears as you turned to Jiyuu and stared daggers at her. "I'll send you the divorce papers tomorrow," you said through gritted teeth.
"Have fun being with her, Satoru." And with that, you stormed off, leaving them both behind.
As you walked away, tears welled up in your eyes from the pain of being rejected and humiliated. Satoru, who had just been slapped by you, placed a hand on his red cheek and turned to look at her with disgust in his eyes.
"Don't you ever try talking to me or my wife again," he seethed, "or I will fucking make your life a living hell." His nose scrunched up angrily as he ran after you, leaving Jiyuu absolutely baffled and sobbing in the wake of his outburst.
Satoru ran after you calling your name out, the cold hair touching his face making him shiver, in the cold. “Y/N wait,” He said as he caught up to you standing in front of you.
You scoffed, shoving him out of your way as you stormed out of the elegant ballroom. Your heels clicked angrily on the smooth marble floor, the sound echoing through the grand space.
Tears threatened to fall from your beautiful eyes as you struggled to keep your composure. Satoru chased after you, begging for forgiveness and trying to explain himself, but you were too hurt and angry to listen. The elegant chandeliers above you seemed to mock you as you made your dramatic exit, the soft light reflecting off the tears that finally escaped and trailed down your cheeks.
The cold air hit you as you burst out of the building, the tears freezing on your cheeks. You could hear him calling out your name, but you didn't stop. You kept running, not wanting to face the reality of his lies.
With a sudden sense of urgency, he swiftly placed his hand on his tie and began undoing it, his eyes never leaving yours. "Y/N," he said, his voice laced with a mixture of determination and desperation. He grabbed your hand and turned you to face him, his eyes searching yours for a sign of understanding.
As you met his gaze, you could see one side of his cheek turning a bright shade of red, evidence of the slap you had just delivered moments ago. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, his heart seemingly ready to leap out of his chest. The tension between you was palpable, the air thick with the unspoken words and emotions that hung between you.
"Don't do this to me, don't you dare say anything," you pleaded, your voice shaking with emotion. Your heart was racing, your mind racing even faster as you tried to anticipate what he was going to say. He stood there, his gaze locked on you, watching your every move.
Your bottom lip quivered as you bit down on it, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. Your hands trembled at your sides, your whole body tense with anticipation.
Despite your best efforts, a few tears escaped and rolled down your cheeks, smudging the makeup you had carefully applied earlier. But even with your makeup ruined, you still looked breathtakingly beautiful. He couldn't take his eyes off you, captivated by your vulnerability and your strength all at once.
"Y/N please, it's not what it looks like." Satoru pleaded, reaching out to grab your hand. But you pulled away, tears streaming down your face.
"It's never what it looks like, is it?" You sobbed, trying to compose yourself. "I told her to back off," Satoru insisted, pulling you closer and wiping away your tears with his thumb. His touch was soft and warm, but it did little to ease the pain in your heart.
"That's what you always say," you said, looking into his eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes that used to make your heart skip a beat. But now, they only filled you with anger and disappointment.
"I'm done pretending like every time I see you with him, it doesn't hurt me." Satoru's voice cracked as he grabbed your puffy face. "No, Satoru," you pushed him off, feeling a surge of anger. "I'm done pretending and trying to make this marriage work. It's always been her, hasn't it?"
Satoru's eyes fell to the ground, his guilt evident. "I should have known that what you said was a lie. It's always been her," you said, your voice shaking with emotion.
You picked up your dress and began walking towards the stairs, your heels clicking loudly on the concrete. Tears continued to fall down your face as you ran down the stairs, desperate to escape the pain and betrayal.
But just as you thought you were free, Satoru appeared in front of you, his eyes intense and his breaths heavy. "Do you know what you do to me, Y/N?" he asked, his voice laced with frustration and longing. "Do you think it's easy for me to see you with that man?"
He grabbed your hand and placed it on his chest, his heart beating wildly. You felt the heat radiating off his body, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your own chest. "Can't you feel it, Y/N?" he asked, his voice thick with emotion.
"Every time I see you, it's like a fire ignites inside me," he continued, his voice becoming even more strained. "A longing that only you can quench." You could see the raw emotion in his eyes, and your heart ached for him. "And when I'm away from you, it's like a part of me is missing." His words hit you like a ton of bricks, and you felt yourself getting lost in his gaze.
You bit your lip, unsure of how to respond. You could feel your heart beating so fast, and you could tell that Satoru was feeling the same way. In that moment, it was like the rest of the world faded away, leaving just the two of you standing there, caught up in your emotions.
A tense silence filled the air as you stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at your estranged husband. The memories of his betrayal still fresh in your mind, but a small part of you couldn't help but feel a spark of hope as he stood there, pleading for another chance.
You let out a bitter laugh, "And what? You expect me to believe you? You embarrassed me in front of everyone, and I still want a divorce." Your voice was laced with anger and hurt as you spoke, your eyes never leaving his face.
He took a step closer to you, his expression pleading. "I know I messed up, Y/N. But I want you. I can't let you go."
You shook your head, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside you. "You can't just say that and expect everything to be okay," you retorted, turning away from him and starting to walk down the stairs. Your heart was heavy with conflicting feelings, but you knew you couldn't just forgive him and go back to how things were.
As you reached the bottom of the stairs, you spotted your ride home waiting for you. Relief washed over you, and you quickened your pace to get to the car. Opening the car door you let out a sigh.
But before you could even close the door, Satoru stopped it and pulled you out of the car. Your heart raced as he stood in front of you, his gaze intense and determined. "What the fuck are you doing, Satoru?" you yelled, pushing against his chest. "I said leave me alone!"
He didn't budge, his grip on your arms tightening. "I can't, Y/N. I won't let you go. I'll do anything to make things right between us." His words were filled with desperation and sincerity, and you could see the regret in his eyes.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. "It's not that simple, Satoru. You broke my trust and our marriage.”
"I know this marriage was arranged, but damn it, Y/N, I'm starting to fall for you." You were taken aback by his confession, but before you could respond, his lips crashed onto yours in a heated kiss.
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end notes; this chap after the leaks is gonna break my heart goodbye
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timewillpasssoon · 2 days
Note
hiii can you write a joost x female reader angst? they argue, he yells/says some mean stuff but it ends in fluff? 🫶
HOW COULD YOU?
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pairing . Joost Klein x fem!reader
content . angst, the dutch in this is from google translate so if its bad lmk, mentions of yelling, insults, stress, alcohol, eurovision disqualification, fluff at the end
summary . when joost urges you to leave the house on a cold night, he starts to regret not opening up to you in the first place.
word count . 1.2k words , 6.5k characters
author's note . quick question, are y'all interested in nsfw? just wondering, if so send some ask.
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You and Joost stood in the middle of the living room, tension crackling in the air, geting thicker and thicker as time passes by. His words cut through you like a knife, each one sharper than the last. For the past hour you've been trying to get Joost to eat and open up.. He would turn away and say he's not hungry. He'll say he's not hurting. He lies through his teeth, he was hungry and in pain, desperate need of help. So why doesn't he want it You? You tried to get him to open up to you, but you just couldn't. Everytime an attempt was made, he would slightly raise his voice.
Then finally, he yelled, his voice rising in frustration. Your eyes welled up with tears as you tried to hold back your own anger. "I'm your girlfriend, liefde! I'm here when you need someone to lean on!" You wanted to scream it out, yet it came out as a whisper, your voice cracking with emotion. He scoffed, his anger still beneath the surface.
"Well I don't need you! I am perfectly fine, there is nothing we need to talk about!"
"Can you atleast eat!?"
"For crying out loud I'm not hungry! Just stop being such a bitch."
The argument escalated, each word a dagger aimed at your heart. Joost's voice echoed off the walls, the last word hanging on your brain.
"You just don't get it, do you?" You looked at him in the eyes, rage and empathy were the only two things you could feel. "You clearly are in pain because of the disqualification! Just talk to me- we've been dating for 2 years, for crying out loud! Yet you still can't tell me your problems? Wat een man ben jij." (What a man you are.)
"You can't keep pretending like everything's okay when it's not!" Tears stung your eyes as you struggled to find what words to say.
"I thought we could work through this together." You uttered out, your voice trembling. Joost shook his head. "I don't know if we can," he admitted. He looked down, slowly then turning to the front door. "You should go."
You shake your head, words can't come out your mouth. Your tongue is tied together and you don't know if you can untie it. "Joost- please."
"I said get out. Ik wil je niet zien." (I don't want to see you.)
Your heart was throbbing so fast it felt louder than him,.Joost is staring at the front door then turns to you, red puffy eyes with baby tears coming out from both eyes. His blonde hair was a mess. It was covering most of his eyes but you can still see the pain in them.
"Prima." (Fine.) You take big steps yet they feel like your still miles away from your destination. You go to open the front door, "I hope you come to your senses."
Those were the last words he heard from you. Before you walked out. It's been two hours since you left his house...
and frankly, he's scared. He kicked you out in the middle of the night. It was eight pm when he demanded you to leave and with each second goes by, its past ten.
He calls you, he leaves voicemails, texts messages.
Still nothing. Checked social media and there was still nada.
God he felt awful, the worst boyfriend in the world. All of this happened because he didn't want to cry in your arms. He really did want to let loose, reveal that everything is not okay.
Yet he couldn't.
He didn't want to burden you with his problems anymore. Joost felt like he had too much baggage no one wanted to hear. He thought that everyone wants his happy-go-lucky side. You jusy wanted his true self. The Joost that is willing to tell you his feelings.
He decided to call one of your friends that happened to live by the neighborhood.
"Hello?"
"Is reader with you?"
The other line was quite crispy, Joost can hear a tv in the background, sounded like laughter in the back, maybe a comedy.
"No, why? Is everything alright?"
Joost sighed, fidgeting with a stand of hair. "No, me and her got into a fight and I made her leave- I haven't heard from her!" He exclaimed.
"Woah, woah, deep breaths." The friend on the line said, "Don't you have her location? Check if she's near the area, I'll stay on the line while you do that."
Joost quickly checked his phone to see if you turned off your location. You didn't, you forgot to. "She's in the nearest bar!" The friend hummed. "Go to her, she only drinks when she's stressed the hell out."
"Thank you so much," Joost happened to be crying again, quickly grabbing his keys and jacket. "No problem, get get her." The friend hung up on him as he raced to your location, being around eight minutes away if he ran the whole way.
He bolted as fast as he could, petrified about your safety. Where if you're black out drunk or not.
Pacing to the bar, precious seconds going by, he finally made it. it was one of the least popular bars near so there wasn't any hassle to get in. As he walked inside, he saw a women with the same color hair as you. Your head down on the table with around two shot glasses, there was three more earlier, the bartender just took them.
He sped-walked towards you, careful and still just incase you were still mad at him. He tapped you on your shoulder, but you didn't raise your head up.
"Ik heb een vriendje." (I have a boyfriend.) Was all you said. "I know." Joost calmly answered, his accent triggered you to lift your head up.
"Joost?" He nodded as he sat down next to you, his hand reaching for yours. You didn't push away his hand, as much as you wanted to, you knew he was in pain.
"Why are you here?" You softly say. You'll like to say you ignored him but you couldn't. You were certainly mad at him, but he had his reasons of sheltering himself away. So you listened instead of scolding.
"Reader, I'm so sorry- I didn't want to bother you with my problems. I feel like I just have too much going on for you to care." You felt destroyed at the thought of Joost think you don't care for him. Joost was rubbing circles on your palms.
He continued, "Can we go home, I would rather we talk there."
You smile at the chance of him opening up. You immediately say yes, standing up to leave. All your drinks were already paid for.
As the quiet, yet comfortable, walk back home he held you tight. Clinging onto your left arm for dear life. He still felt guilty for leaving you.
All alone in the streets. You told him it wasn't a big deal, that you could protect yourself. Yet the feeling guilt was still there, on his tongue. The taste was horrid.
Joost unlocked the door, letting you step inside first before closing the door behind him. That's where you engulfed him in a huge hug. Tears coming back for the fourth time.
That night ended with a deep conversation, with cuddles on the couch along with some ice cream half way eaten.
"I appreciate you having the courage to tell me all this."
You muttered your sentence out, about to knock out cold, your body longed for sleep but you kept awake for a bit while.
"I should thank you."
He smiled, tugging you closer to him. You can feel his hot breath breezing though the right side of your neck.
The warmth of each other's bodies made you two warm. You still weren't ready to give up on him.
You'll never give up on him.
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LETSGOO FINISHED THIS IN 3 HOURS!! part 2 of let me think... is in the works don't worry, i have two other requests on the way as well.
im okay with nsfw requests, even if its a bit spicy or all the way. check out my other account!!
324 notes · View notes
namisin · 1 day
Text
❝ HOPE WHEN THE MOON GOES—
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(—THAT YOU DON'T GO.)
⚝ pairing : gojo satoru x reader.
⚝ synopsis : satoru likes you to a painful degree, dare he say he loves you. everyone but you can see it. the problem? you only want to be friends (with benefits).
⚝ content : 18+, fem reader, tiniest bit of angst, fwbs to lovers, oral (m receiving), college au, piv, pet names, brief mention of dubcon? (drunk reader), mentions of alcohol, rated w for whiny gojo, pet name(s), prὁne-bone, possessiveness, praise bc he's just a sweetie, choking, reader is spoiled but so is he, MDNI.
⚝ word count : 3.2k | 11 min read. y'all idk how this happened
⚝ a/n : gege please dpwm i need my man back this INSTANT. but tysm u guys for the warm welcome !! like, comment &/or reblog for smooches on the mouf ♡
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𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 friday night, another club outing satoru did not wanna be on.
granted, it was a setting that would otherwise be right up his alley. satoru was the life of the party after all, the loudest one in the room without fail. but he could distinctly remember the point before your arrangement began, and after.
it didn't matter before that he could get anyone he wanted, have any warm body take up space in his king-sized bed. it didn't matter that you could do the same; dance up on anyone, grind your perfect ass against them until they had no presence of mind but to follow your piper's song to the nearest empty room. then regale your best friends with the details the next morning.
however, after the first time you propositioned him, drunk out of your mind but purring in his lap like a needy cat, it only became harder and harder for him to keep his hands to himself in public. his patience to wait out these parties to get you home wore thinner, to the point of near-nonexistence. obnoxiously thrumming bass, bodies smacking together like mindless fish caught in a net, having to yell and strain to hear his friends standing less than a foot in front of him...things he never minded at all before became all too fucking annoying.
but you've always acted as his life raft, bidding his escape with a, "wanna get out of here, toru?"
and he followed every single time, ignoring shoko's wiggling eyebrows and geto's smirking as you led the way out the door. their jeering bounced right off his skin; he felt damn-near invincible knowing he'd be having his own kind of fun, with much better music.
tonight was no different. you stood by the bar, drumming your fingers against the counter while waiting for the bartender to return with two drinks. satoru's eyes roved over your body shamelessly over the rim of oval glasses, taking in the expanse of your legs that weren't covered by your leather miniskirt and the way your top hugged to your figure. he approached with his bottom lip tucked, much like his hands in the pockets of his pants.
by the time he arrived to stand next to you, the glasses were placed down with a muted "clunk," just barely perspiring as his usual was passed into his freed palm.
"my saviour," he greeted, bent over at the waist to let the words brush against your ear, "what would i do without you?"
"mmm-mm," you shrugged, grinning in return, "probably die of thirst."
satoru exhaled sharply through his nose, rightening his posture to take a sip of his drink. he caught the double entendre he wasn't even sure you meant to drop — there was a constant thirst inside him that you really were the only cure for. a thirst to hear you whine and beg for him, call him toru in that sweet tone that made him want to legally shorten his name.
another long sip.
the way he wanted, no needed, you was almost obsessive. he knew that. but could he be blamed? you were pure temptation wrapped in the most enticing body; you were the raging flame and he was but a moth, acting on pure instinct to capture that warmth for his own. every night he spent with you was a testament to that effort, prodding and caressing your body in every way he knew how. he pulled every trick out of his book to have you writhing on his sheets. satoru was sure the neighbours hated you both, but at least they knew his name well.
"you lovebirds coming over to the table?" shoko raised a thin brow at the pair of you, an unlit cigarette hanging from her lips.
"lovebirds? sho please, you know better," you laughed, crossing the space to link arms with her.
ah. satoru felt a twinge of something pinch in his chest. that problem still remained.
he worshipped the ground you walked on, blessed your name like you were his deity, but you still only saw him as a friend. granted, he was a friend with extensive benefits, but a friend nonetheless. hell, for as long as you two have had this arrangement, you've never spent a full night with him — instead opting to scoop your clothes off the floor, grab a quick shower and bid him a soft goodnight, simultaneously calling yourself an uber as you left his apartment.
his face was much dimmer following behind you and shoko, having dropped a small wad of cash he didn't count on the bar-top, and he drew his glass back to his lips in an attempt to quell that pinching feeling.
it wasn't as if he never offered for you to stay the night, never lifted his messy sheets on the opposite side he always kept vacant for you. but, it was hard to stay persistent when you always answered with some variation of, "thanks toru, but we're just friends, remember? i don't wanna make it weird for us."
he watched your hips sway under your skirt with a furrow in his brow. the hem flapped around the very tops of your thighs, drawing other eyes that weren't his own cerulean pair to its attention. he itched to make a show of you being his — maybe throw an arm over your shoulders or lean down to peck your lips — but knew how well (not well at all) it would go down with the other party if you caught on.
it just meant he had to be the one to get you out of there sooner.
satoru let you have your fun, down a responsible-enough number of shots, twist your hips this way and that on the dancefloor with geto and shoko. they both towered over you, almost forming a protective ring of raven black and coffee brown around your twirling body, and he was grateful for it. the imagery alone of some other person creeping up behind you, grabbing at your waist in an attempt to steal a dance, was enough to tighten that vulnerable spot in his chest.
after downing the rest of his second drink, he stood, leaving another roll of money in shoko's purse and making a beeline for you on the dancefloor. geto parsed him with a knowing look as he squeezed passed them, shoko only gave a thumbs up and a wide grin. they both knew all about what went on between you two, and they knew all too well how much satoru pined over you.
if it wasn't the way he looked at you, or the way he'd mindlessly put his hands on the small of your back, on your hips, around your shoulders, then it'd have to be the fact that he grouched about it at every given opportunity. the minute you left him alone, he'd go on and on until one of them had to smack him in the back of the head to shut up.
so, watching him slot his hips to yours, immediately winding them in tandem to the beat, they understood quickly to leave the pair of you to your little world.
"let me take you out of here, y/n," he murmured, you spun in his toned arms to settle into his torso. your arms circled his neck as he pushed his nose closer to yours to bump them together.
"you stole my line," you drawled, "getting impatient on me, toru?"
satoru bit back a groan, the way you spoke coupled with the eyes you gave him from beneath the canopy of your lashes was staggering.
"maybe i am, you're holdin' out on me."
you blew a raspberry of a laugh at his frown, "you saw me last night, you baby."
"twenty-four whole hours too long."
your eyes rolled unconsciously, he could be such a little shit when he didn't have his way. still, you were never one to deny him.
"take me home then, before you start sobbing for pussy in the club."
a triumphant beam overtook his face at that, he actively disregarded the teasing lilt to your words. all he heard was "take me home," and it was like you waved kikufuku in his face.
he picked up you up easily, princess-style, making you squeal and nearly kick a patron close by. you giggled out your apologies, but satoru was already leaving, carting you off to the exit of the club.
your back landed hard against his front door when he put you down again, and his body followed right behind. your lips crashed together with fervor, teeth colliding and tongues looping around each other. you mewled so sweetly into his mouth as his hands wandered up under your top, grabbing hold of your tits over your bra. his cock twitched in its confines, you had an effect on him that would be scary if he didn't relish in it so much.
"lose this shit already," satoru huffed against your lips while tugging the hem of your blouse upwards. you obliged with the nth roll of your eyes, and with the top gone, you pulled him back down for another searing kiss.
you marked your path downward after switching your positions, pushed his shirt up to his chest to lick a wet stripe down his abs, until you came face-to-face with the sizeable bulge in his pants. he smoothed your hair away from your face while you pulled his belt buckle apart. an exhale stuttered in his chest — you mouthed around his bulge from the outside of his boxer-briefs, though with the sounds satoru made, you may as well have shoved the whole thing into your mouth.
deciding to end his misery, you hooked your manicured fingers into the waistband of his underwear, pulling his cock free to smack against your cheek. you licked another matching stripe up the underside, shadowing the pulsing trail that was his most dominant vein, then kitten-licked at his slit once you hit the peak.
with one hand wrapped around the base of his cock and the other on his thigh, you took his pretty pink tip into your mouth, and his face absolutely crumpled.
satoru groaned, long and low, his head thumping against the door as it was thrown back. you could feel the corners of your mouth tingling from the stretch, straining a little to fit around his girth despite making this journey countless times by now.
he stammered out a hiss when his tip hit the back of your throat, you would've laughed if not for the fact that you desperately held off your gag reflex. his grip on your hair tightened, coming to hold it in a fist to both keep the hair out of your face and guide your movements as you sunk further down his length. you breathed through your nose and willed your throat to relax, more broken sounds sprang from his lips as you let him in.
"f-fuck, just like that, pretty," he praised hoarsely, gently bobbing your head up and down his length with his grip on your hair. you powered through the tears flooding your lashline and the rivulets of spit accumulating to drip down your chin.
while he worked your mouth, you pried your lids apart to peer up at him, eyes rimmed red and pupils blown wide.
and that was his undoing.
his body tensed hard as he held your head down, nose right up against his pelvis and tickled with snow-white hairs. his abdomen spasmed under the point of it, undulating as he painted your throat white.
"you're so fucking good to me," he mumbled against your lips after helping you back to your feet. satoru, of course, was the shameless type to make the fuck out with you right after dumping his cum into your mouth; and he did just that. he picked you up again while his tongue swiped over yours, blindly walking you up the stairs to his bedroom.
he plopped you down unceremoniously, pulling your legs apart to sink between them. you'd lost the skirt somewhere along the way, that left nothing but your thong to separate you from satoru's still-leaking, still-hard dick. however, even those got ripped down your legs and tossed to the side — every article of clothing was a victim in his ever-expanding need for you.
"i need to fuck you, will you le'me fuck you?" he babbled in a pitchy, fissured voice, circling your clit with his fingers. he dipped them shallowly in and out of your hole to smear your wetness right across your folds. all he needed was for you to nod the affirmative before he was rapidly replacing his digits with the head of his cock, gathering your syrupy arousal to drench him.
"just suckin' me off has you this wet, hmm? i knew you liked me."
"sh-shut up and put it in already, toru- hate it when you tease."
satoru snickered, but complied, grabbing at your legs again to flip your body over. he knew you loved getting fucked prone the most, you didn't even hesitate to grab a pillow to hold on to. something about the way you seemed to scream for him that much louder, claw at the sheets and burble for him to give you more more more— made it his new favourite position too.
so, with little hesitation, he positioned and pushed his cock into you, slowly enough for you to adjust to his girth. your eyes rolled back almost immediately, the way he filled you up could never get old.
you mewled into the pillow once he found a good starting pace, dragging his cock deliciously slow against your spongy walls. still, it was only a taste of what you knew he could give to you.
"more, toru, want more- shit!"
you barely started getting the greedy words out before satoru was settling a hand on the small of your back, using it and his palm flat against the bed as leverage to drill into you. now that he knew you were adjusted, he didn't hold back — what kind of guy would he be if he didn't give his girl everything she wanted (and then some)?
drool and tears soaked into the white pillowcase while your sticky essence doused his cock, collecting in a ring at the plinth of it. repetitive strings of "fuck yes!" mingled with his deep groans to ring throughout the room, bouncing off the walls in conjunction with his hips bouncing off your plush ass. he couldn't help but free up a palm to smack it, then two, three more times when he heard how much more noisy it made you.
"g'nna cum for me? yea?" he took note of the way you started to quake beneath him, your cunt clenching and releasing uncontrollably around his length. he knew your tells by now, and that quiver in your moans told him everything without you needing to say a word. satoru secured his hand around your throat, squeezing just enough at the sides for your brain to go foggy and remaining thoughts turn to mush.
like a thief in the night, your orgasm stole through you, bringing the simmer in your blood to a boil. heat flashed through your body, collecting to pulse through the walls of your cunt that clamped down against satoru's battering. with another ruined groan, he was right behind you, cock twitching and throbbing wildly inside you. rope after rope splattered your insides, though that didn't stop his hips from jerking in a fractured pattern.
you both came down panting. you turned in his arms to look up at him, his softened eyes were already centered on your face. as mean as he was when he fucked, he was always otherwise gentle with you — tender in a way that made a part of you melt with every touch. but he was your friend, and you both had a good system going. what would be the point of ruining it?
"what're you thinkin' about so hard already?" satoru's usual pouty cadence returned quick, successfully knocking your thoughts off track.
"i need a shower," was your only reply, and you moved to crawl from beneath him. your bed-partner's features toppled into a genuine frown; he knew exactly what that meant.
you were leaving him again.
but he wouldn't let it happen this time, not if he could help it.
"wait, y/n," he moved to gently grasp your arm before you could scoot off the edge of the bed. you turned to him with question in your gaze.
"let me join you," he propositioned, and a hint of a smile pulled at your lips.
"i don't know if i have the stamina left, toru."
"i won't- we can just shower. y'know, together," he started, freeing your arm to rub at the back of his neck, "and you could, y'know, stay."
your expression turned wry, "toru, you know why i can't-"
"no, actually, y/n. i don't," he scowled, "why can't you? why don't you? we've been close enough for so long, slept together for so long. you know i can take care of you."
exasperated, you stood. he followed quick, moving to hold your arms again. even in his own displeasure, he was mild. you were melting again.
"you tell me all the time we're just friends, but what if- what if i want more? need more, than just friendship with you?"
you gawped up at him, blinking in place of something to say. of course, you always had a kind of a feeling — satoru was not the man known for his subtlety — but it was another thing to hear him say it to you, much less with this desperately pleading intonation.
"satoru, i..." you sighed, "i can't fuck this- we can't fuck this up. you're too precious to me."
"but what if we don't? you're precious to me too, y/n, more than you even know."
and for all you knew, he could be right. he was always sweet with you — patient, attentive, doting, so painfully soft. it wasn't like the thought hadn't crossed your mind before, either. you contemplated staying with him several times before, fantasized on what a 'morning after' — many 'morning-afters' — would even look like. but shit, what would you do if you one of you found a way to mess things up? topple a best-friendship you've had going for more years than you could even trace back?
"i just- i can't lose you, satoru."
"you won't. you're stuck with me forever, pretty, we promised."
he moved to cup your cheeks, holding your face akin to the way someone held precious china.
"i like you way too much. shit, at this point i think i love you."
your bottom lip wobbled. this snow-haired fuck really did always make it hard to say no to him.
"i-i like you too, toru. a lot."
"so you'll stay," he gleamed, making a statement more than he was asking a question, "please say you'll stay."
"yes, toru, fine. i'll stay."
with his smile still very much in place, he leaned down to kiss you.
god, he couldn't wait to finally wake up to you tomorrow.
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rationaliity · 2 days
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my turn | gallagher & dr. ratio x f! reader ( 18+ )
requested !! ratio and gallagher are roommates, that's so totally normal right ? ratio takes time to tutor you, and gallagher.. helps you destress about school and work. gallagher may not be able to help you with tutoring, but ratio can help you destress. tags : dubcon in the beginning ( turns into consent ) threesome, double penetration, oral ( f. receiving ), arguing, use of a blindfold & handcuffs, slight possessiveness, dacryphilia, asphyxiation, dirty talking, mean gallagher at points, calls you a bitch, whore, slut, ect but also nicknames like doll, princess, sweetheart, dearest, begging / whining / crying, slightly painful sex, kinda throwing reader around like a doll, implied to be smaller than ratio & gallagher, fem anatomy word count : 5.5k
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your relationships with your roommates weren't exactly the normal college roommate situation. of course, in some parts of your life, it was. you three would argue over who did the dishes that day, even with veritas' schedule that he posted on a white board in the kitchen without telling either one of you. he had said that he thought about the three of your schedules and decided which days would work best for all of you. and he was right, he really did think about your schedules and made the best plan possible, which maybe irked you even more than if he had just written down names on the whiteboard haphazardly.
there would be times where you'd all be sat on the couch watching the latest and worst romcom to poke fun of it, and whoever tapped out first had to cook dinner. funnily enough, most of the time it was gallagher, he could hardly ever stand to watch two people pine after each other for an hour and a half without finding himself getting frustrated and yelling ' they should just fuck already ! ' at the tv. he'd stand up, tearing himself from where he was sitting beside you and immediately start on dinner, because he knew that he'd lost the game.
of course there were other similarities between the three of you and regular roommates, but it was the differences that you found yourself hooked on. veritas was in your year, and although he was taking classes far beyond the scope of your own, he still demanded that he helped tutor you whenever you were struggling in a particular subject, no matter what that subject was. you made plans that every thursday while gallagher was out at work all day working a double at the bar, you and veritas would take the living room and study the day away together. whether you were tackling mathematics or physics or literature, if you had a question, veritas usually had an answer. and if he didn't, he had a book that could answer your question.
veritas had a rough around the edges personality, but you could tell that he really cared about people, even if he didn't explicitly state it. or at least, he cared about you and your education. he was always snapping at you, telling you that you should at least go to bed before the sun rises, and maybe stop drinking so much coffee. if he was home, or if you saw him at college, he was always reminding you of things that you should be doing to take proper care of yourself. at college, when he was free from his classes, he followed you around, not because he didn't have any friends, but because he thought you needed someone to look after you with your self destructive behavior. so he says, at least.
and gallagher.. was a different story all together. he went to a technical college on the other side of the city, but he got the weekends off while you and veritas went to school. you would get back at around noon on both days, and veritas had classes pretty much all day until late at night, having stacked up his weekends with extracurricular activities that he didn't necessarily need, but they sure would look nice on his transcript. in those seven or eight hours while veritas was away, you were underneath gallagher in his bed.
you had no idea when it officially started to become a habit to spend your weekend crying out gallagher's name, but neither one of you were complaining, either. you knew that it started out of boredom on your part, and a nasty ex on his part. he had been pissed and frustrated, and you let him vent his anger out to you, and listened to him try very hard not to shit talk his ex because he didn't really want to say anything negative about her, but damn did she make it hard for him to keep calm. keying his cherry red vintage mustang and putting sugar in the tank was his last straw. he eventually emptied out his gas tank and replaced the fuel filter, and repainted his car with a iridescent black / purple coat this time, but damn did it take some work and quite a lot of money.
but through the entire situation, you were there to support him when he needed it. as it goes, one thing lead to another, and what was supposed to be both a celebration toast and a thank you from gallagher ended up with your clothes being dropped in the hallways outside of his room and his body pressed against yours, rushing to finish because you both knew that veritas was going to be home soon. since then, it had become sort of like a ritual of yours.
you trudged through the doors, dropping your bag at the door, completely missing the hook this time where you typically hung the bag. throwing off your shoes at the door, and undoing the claw clip that held up your hair, you were exhausted today. and you knew exactly what you needed, he was in his room probably playing some video game that he really didn't care about and neither did you.
stripping off your college blazer, you dropped it off at your room, already working to unbutton the buttons of your white dress shirt when you walked into gallagher's room, the room itself smelling so heavily of weed it gagged you for a second, but you had gotten used to gallagher's peculiarities by now. exactly like how you expected him to be, gallagher was spread out on his bed with a controller in his hands, playing some gacha game with a blonde traveller and their little fairy companion, a cute little game that you had to make a mental note to check out later after this.
" welcome home, " gallagher said while he sat down his controller, eyeing your slumped form as you stood in front of his bed, " school went well, i'm guessin' ? "
" school sucked, " you sighed, climbing into the bed with him before you could even get off your fully unbuttoned shirt, the fabric just hanging on your shoulders. gallagher laughed a little bit, opening his arms to take you in his arms.
" need something to relieve the stress ? " he suggested gently, holding you close to him. " you know, i was thinkin' of you the entire time you were gone. "
you couldn't lie to yourself and pretend that you weren't thinking about this moment the entire day, either, but you wouldn't exactly be as forthcoming about it as gallagher was. " mm. stress relief sounds nice. "
" you know, sweetheart, " gallagher's voice sounded like he was about to suggest something that he knew you would be on the fence about, but it wasn't like him to just completely ignore what he was curious about. " i was at the store the other day and i picked up a few things for you. mind if we try them out today ? " he picked himself up, still holding you in his arms so you were just kind of following his movements as he opened up his beside dresser and pulled out a pair of handcuffs and a red blindfold.
you raised your eyebrows, a mix of curiosity and confusion on your face. " i didn't take you to be one to try bdsm, gallagher. you always took me as a, uh, no thoughts, head empty, just fucking type of guy. "
" oh, absolutely, doll, " gallagher laughed, fiddling with the silk blindfold, twirling the soft fabric through his calloused hands. " you have absolutely no idea how easy it is to lose myself when i'm eight inches deep inside that pretty little pussy of yours. consider it a.. test, for both of us. "
" ugh, i've had enough tests for today, " you whined at the wording, being reminded of just how shitty your day at college was, but at least you were home now, and in gallagher's arms, which meant that even though things sucked previously, they would be okay pretty soon, and you'd forget about it all when you were crying out for him to stop because it was overstimulating you. " but.. we can try it for a little bit today. we've got a long time until i have to get back into my room, so i guess it doesn't hurt anything if our first few rounds are experimental. "
" i knew ya'd see it my way, baby, " gallagher grinned, shuffling around a little bit so that your back was pressed against his flat pillows, barely giving you any structure, and one day you're going to fuck in your room instead so you're a little more comfortable, but you weren't exactly thinking about that right now. " here, put your wrists together and up over your head, doll. "
you did as he said, feeling the cold metal of the handcuffs as he wrapped them around both of your wrists, hearing them click shut as he tightened them so they fit your wrists.
" you look so pretty like this, needin' me to do everythin' for ya, " gallagher chuckled, mostly to himself, as he leaned down and pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss to your lips. " you're doing so good, doll. " he pulled back to grab the silken blindfold, wrapping it around your head so that it was completely covering your eyes. " can't see nothin', right baby ? "
you felt your heart rate increase a little bit, suddenly the anxiety of not being able to see and touch him getting to you ever so slightly, but it was overshadowed by a surprising desire to continue. " y-yeah, i can't see anything. "
" good girl, " gallagher pressed another kiss on your lips, making you jump in surprise, but he pulled back before you could kiss him back. " i'll be right back, doll. just sit tight, you'll feel good soon. " leaving you with your hands over your head and handcuffed together, unable to see what was going on around you, you could only feel his body weight shift the bed underneath you. you didn't know where he went, the carpet muffling any footsteps that might have been audible to you if it were tile, leaving you in anticipation.
after a few moments of waiting, you could feel the bed dip again as his body get on the bed and in between your legs. " g-gallagher- " you whimpered out softly, finding yourself struggling against the handcuffs that you had honestly forgotten were around your wrists. " o-oh, yeah.. " you mumbled mostly to yourself, biting your bottom lip.
wordlessly, his fingers worked at your pants, undoing the button and unzipping them. he leaned down, his soft lips ghosting over your navel, right above your panties, before he tugged your pants off of your legs. he was sensual with it, his hands trailing down your now bare legs, something that you weren't entirely used to gallagher doing, but you figured that maybe the change in your usual routine was getting him extra worked up.
you could feel his fingers trail up your legs, wrapping two strong arms around your thighs and pulling them apart, so that he had enough room to slot himself in between your legs, close enough that his mouth was so close to your cunt, that was now so lewdly leaking slick that soaked through your panties. gallagher was typically a very vocal man, so it was surprising that he was so quiet now, but by this point you were finding it hard to think straight, especially when he peeled your panties to the side and you could feel his breath fan against your soaked heat.
" n-ngh..! just- get to it already, please ! " you stammered out, sounding a lot more desperate than demanding. as if on cue, finally he gave into you, burying his face into your heat, his tongue expertly working circles around your clit, sucking on the sensitive bud. " f-fuck..! " you cried out, your hips bucking into his face, seeking more friction. he seemed to oblige your needs, his tongue working faster, his plump lips slippery with your slick, sliding through your folds perfectly.
gallagher had never eaten you out like this. yeah, he was good at it, but he opted for a lazier approach, flicking his tongue against your clit, drawing out small, slow circles as his fingers found its way to your entrance. he was not doing any of that right now, instead, the way he ate you out was like he was a starving man who had never tasted anything more delicious. he was meticulous with it, every flick of his tongue, every lick and touch designed and planned to draw out the most moans from you.
" h-hah- fu-fuck, wh-what's gotten into you ? " you panted out through loud moans, your thighs shaking underneath his rough touch. all you could do was buck your hips up into his mouth, the pleasure building inside of you and needing to release, faster than you were expecting. maybe it was just the stress finally leaving your body, or maybe it was just the isolation of two of your senses highlighting your other senses, but you swore this felt better than it typically did. " g-gonna cum- please- " you felt your chest rising and falling heavily, your heart thumping against your torso.
" just like that, yeah, pretty thing ? want his fingers inside of your pretty cunt ? " gallagher asked, his voice coming from your side, making you jump up in realization that something was up. you heard a grunt of annoyance in between your legs, and you gasped.
" wh-wha- ?! "
" who knew the doc could eat pussy like that, huh ? " gallagher chuckled, cutting you off, and you felt a lump form in your throat, slowly coming to understand what position you were in despite the haze and neediness in your head. " you look like you're havin' fun, doll. ain't you to close to stop now ? let him take you over the edge, i think he deserves to hear your pretty lil moans for all his hard work. "
the man in between your legs, veritas, continued his ministrations, and the fact alone that this was veritas ratio in between your legs made your body tense up, the eroticism of the situation only heightening your pleasure, especially underneath his skilled tongue. gallagher was right, annoyingly, you were far too close to actually care who was in between your legs, as long as he was able to make you finish. " v-veri- ah, veritas.. " you moaned out shyly, his name falling from your lips both unfamiliar and yet comforting. " i'm gonna cum- please..! "
veritas didn't say anything, too busy coaxing your orgasm from you to properly address anything at the moment. now that their little secret was out, you could feel gallagher's hand on your chest, the digits slipping underneath your bra to fondle your chest, rolling your nipple in between his two fingers, eliciting noises from you with the added pleasure that you weren't even sure you could make. everything was adding together in such a way that you simply couldn't hold back anymore, the pressure in your body too much until your entire body shook from your orgasm ripping through you.
veritas' tongue didn't stop his assault on you, guiding you through your orgasm, your slick absolutely covering his face. you whimpered softly for him to stop after the sensitivity got to, wiggling your hips in attempt to push him away, which he finally did after he got a few more moments in between your legs.
finally able to think straight, you found yourself speaking up, your voice strained as you tried to regain your composure even slightly, but failing miserably. " i-i think- i think i deserve answers. why is veritas here ? "
" he wanted a taste, why else, doll ? " gallagher chuckled, his hand pulling away from your chest. " you should see him, all covered with your juices and panting. he damn near drowned in there and is still wanting more. " you were honestly a little frustrated that you couldn't see him like that, but that wasn't something you were going to say out loud.
" you're as... candid as ever, gallagher, " veritas finally spoke up, obviously out of breath, but trying to maintain himself. when he spoke again, it was directed to you, " did you not think i was aware of this little routine of yours with gallagher ? you're as foolish as you are naive. of course i would know what's going on in my own home. "
his thinly veiled insults were not lost on you, but you decided not to reply in a mean way and start an argument right now, especially when you were at the mercy of these two men. " how did you find it out then, genius ? "
" you two don't know how to properly dispose of condoms. i found at least four of them while trying to take out the trash because a certain man forgot it was his day to take it out, " you could practically feel the glare that veritas was shooting gallagher in between his words, and you couldn't stop yourself from chuckling a little bit at it. these two were so different, and always at each other's throats. but to be fair, you were often at their throats for one reason or another, too. at the end of the day, no matter how much sexual tension was shared between you, you were still roommates. and roommates are always frustrating, no matter the circumstances.
you were just roommates, right ?
" well my little.. mistake, shall we call it, got you in between the legs of the girl you wanted to fuck for a year now, so.. i think you can forgive me just this once, veritas, " gallagher snickered, clearly not one to be bullied down by veritas' condescension. but before you could say anything back to them to get them to stop bickering with one another, gallagher's arms picked you up into his arms, your locked hands hooking behind his head as he held you up against him, his hard cock rubbing up from behind you through his clothing. " and now we're gonna make her feel even better, cuz i can't wait to be inside this fuckin' pussy again. you had your turn, veritas. thanks for warmin' her up for me, now watch me do what i do best. "
you were dangling in the air, your feet unable to touch the ground, held up by gallagher's strong arms underneath your pits, keeping you completely suspended against him. you knew he was strong, but this was ungodly. you couldn't even feel his muscles straining, it was like it was effortless. he really did have the strength of a bear. was he really going to fuck you standing up, dangling in the air just like this ?
" ..tch, like hell i'm just going to watch. i'm not like you and get off watching others touch what's undeniably mine. " you could hear some movement, your breath hitching in your throat as you felt gallagher grinding against you, bucking his hips up in an attempt to rile you up more than you already were. " sit her down here- " you could hear veritas slapping his thighs, and you could only assume that he had taken his clothing off. " i think i know of a way that we can both enjoy what we want. "
after a moment, gallagher chuckled, his grip on you readjusting a little bit. " i like the way you think, veritas. but do you really think she can handle us both ? "
" i don't think she has a choice but to take it, does she ? "
gallagher finally sat you down, treating you almost like an actual doll, sitting you down on veritas' lap, making sure your legs were spread and straddling the other man's. you could feel the hardness pressing against your still slick cunt, practically begging for entry no matter how calm veritas' words were. " i don't think she's got any arguments, either, otherwise she would've said somethin', yeah ? "
that was his way of getting consent, no matter how slightly convoluted and slutty it sounded coming from his mouth, you knew that much. still, your pride refused to let you give out just a simple answer, still a little frustrated with them for this whole set up in the first place. if veritas wanted to fuck you, he could've just asked. it's not like you would've told the man no. " it's not like you're exactly giving me a choice, are you ? veritas said- "
before you could finish speaking, a hand grabbed you by the back of your head, pushing you down onto veritas' lips, effectively shutting you up. you could taste yourself on his lips from earlier, the salty and tangy taste on your tongue reminding you of his skills with his mouth. his tongue slipped past your lips, and you opened your mouth, slightly caught off guard but having enough time to pick yourself up. his hips grinded slowly into yours, making you both groan into the kiss. your hands, still connected together, rest on his chest, your ass arched up, giving gallagher the perfect view of what he wanted.
" finally, " veritas mumbled against your lips, sounding almost desperate, although he quickly composed himself, " a way to shut you up for good. "
" you just wanted to kiss her, " you felt the bed dip, and a pair of hands grabbed at your ass, fondling the fat in his hands. " but i get it, and i aint faultin' you for it. you just gotta learn how to be more truthful with whatcha want. "
you could tell that veritas absolutely hated that gallagher was controlling everything, but he was powerless to stop it at this time, and instead of fighting, he knew the path of least resistance would give him what he wanted in the end, he just had to bare through gallagher's mouth.
" now, can we get to the good part and fuck her already ? she's wet enough from earlier, she can take it, " his voice was snappy, letting everyone know that he was getting impatient and didn't want to wait any longer, one of gallagher's hands moved from your ass to grab his cock, pressing it against your slit, rubbing some of your slick on the tip before he slowly pushed in, needing to pace himself from absolutely plowing you on top of veritas. he had agreed to share you for now, so he wouldn't do that to veritas. at least not right now.
once he was fully sheathed inside, you gasped, moaning out, your body clenching around him like a vice, begging for more. you leaned your head back, resting it on veritas' shoulder, your locked hands grabbing at his bare chest for some type of support, although you couldn't find any. " g-gallagher..! " you mewled out, already feeling too full with just gallagher inside. there was no way that you were going to be able to fit veritas too- you'd be split in half, you'd-
one of veritas' hands stayed at the back of your head, and the other one snaked in between your legs, pressing his throbbing erection against your stuffed hole. " you can take it, " he grunted out, pushing just the tip in, finding the resistance of your body so irresistible. he wanted to actually ruin you, make you cry on his chest and beg for both of them to stop.
" i-it's too much..! i-i can't, there's no way ! it's gonna break me.. please, veritas- " you whimpered, your incessant babbling just fueling veritas on more. gallagher was clearly not pleased that you were calling out veritas' name instead of his, and decided to punish you with a particularly harsh thrust.
" you're lucky i'm bein' patient right now, bitch, " gallagher spat out, his fingertips digging into the skin of your hips. this was like a complete switch of the otherwise cool and calm gallagher that you knew, but you had to admit that you liked it a little more than you were willing to admit. but your body told against you, clenching around him at his lewd words, only spurring him on to degrade you more. " just fuckin' put it in so we can make this slut cry already, damn. there's no point in bein' gentle with her right now. she ain't gonna take it if you keep tryin' to be gentle. just force it in. "
you could practically feel the anger emanating from veritas, not needing your vision to know that he was absolutely fuming, and you were caught in between their little discourse. you were starting to think that this was less about fucking you and more about proving themselves to each other. " fine, mutt, have it your way, " veritas growled, his hand tightening on your hair, pulling it back so your head was back, giving him access to your neck. with one single thrust, he pushed himself completely inside, causing you to scream out in pure ecstasy.
hot tears bubbled up in your eyes, soaking the red silk fabric, and you felt yourself clawing at veritas' skin, making him groan out from both the pain and pleasure. it was too much, far too much, you were filled up completely, unable to take anymore, but they hadn't even started to move yet. the first movement came from gallagher, lazily rocking his hips in and out of you, clearly pleased with the tightness squeezing his cock. " fuck- she's so fuckin' tight, even more so than usual. "
veritas began to move next, each thrust calculated in time with gallagher so not to overwhelm you completely. you knew that this moment of peace was just temporary, however. now they got a taste, and they were not going to just go easy on you. gallagher broke it first, his hips thrusting up to meet yours so roughly that it took your breath away. veritas followed suit, not to be outdone with the older man.
" gal- veri- " you started, completely unsure which name to moan out, and fucked too stupid to truly be able to say anything coherent through your cries and whimpers of pleasure. both men laughed a little, both fighting to be the name that ultimately spilled out of your pretty lips.
veritas' free hand was in between your bodies, rubbing circles on your sore clit, knowing exactly how you liked it from earlier. you felt your entire body freeze, unable to do anything but cry, shaking as you were sandwiched in between both brutal men. veritas knew exactly what he was doing, he knew how to move inside to maximize your pleasure, his thrusts deep and forceful, while gallagher fucked like a wild animal, only really thinking about how good his cock felt when buried deep inside of you. this mix of logic and pure instinct drove you wild, tears soaking the fabric of the blindfold over your eyes as veritas' free hand pulling your hair, the pain dulled compared to the pure pleasure you were feeling.
it was absolutely brutal, and you could feel your belly bulging from the intrusion of both men inside of you. it was too good, and your head was swimming with only one thought: you had to cum, and soon. it was all beginning to be too much, your body tense and quivering. gallagher's body practically on top of yours at this point, his chest pressed against your back as he breathed in your ear, letting you hear every animalist growl that came from his throat, his little grunts of pleasure as he fucked you like he'd want to be buried inside of you forever.
" g-gonna..- gunna cum.. please, please- " you sobbed, your breath hitching in your throat, your body shaking from the pure overstimulation. veritas' fingers against your clit rubbed faster, and gallagher's hand found your throat, squeezing the sides.
" gonna cum on our cocks, doll ? " gallagher teased, his hips hitting yours with a fervor, " gonna make a mess on top of veritas ? on my bedsheets ? you look so small in between two men like this, huh ? filthy whore gonna lose herself on two cocks ? can't even think straight. he's your tutor, right ? go on, show him what you've learned from me. how to shut up and take dick like a good girl. "
you whimpered, your tongue lolled out, drool slipping from it onto veritas' chest below. " she looks so dumb, the blindfold is all wet from her tears like she can't do anything without crying. it's like all i taught her was for nothing when cock is involved. " veritas agreed, his voice hoarse as he fucked into you. the first time he'd agreed with gallagher this entire time and it was over how dumb you looked while getting fucked by both of them. when you didn't say anything back to either one of them, veritas chuckled a little bit, his eyes taking in your fucked out face. " what happened ? can't even think of anything to say ? too stupid to even remember how to speak properly ? "
" oh, fuck- i'm gonna cum- " gallagher announced, picking up speed and intensity, his teeth grazing against your neck and biting down harshly, making you cry out in pain. it wasn't enough to break the skin, but you could feel his extra sharp canine teeth embedding itself into your skin, surely going to at least bruise you. " gonna fill up this pretty little pussy, gonna make her ours. " at this point he wasn't even saying full sentences, just chasing his high. " mine, ours. yours. fuck. ours, ours. ours. pretty little thing is ours. "
" yours- " you sobbed out, your voice barely more than a whisper, too fucked out to even make noises more than whimpers and moans. your little voice seemed to spur gallagher into his orgasm, his hips stuttering into yours as his orgasm flooded you, covering your walls and veritas' cock with his semen.
" fu-fuck, that's too good, doll, your body is too good, " gallagher groaned, pulling out of you, finally letting go of your neck. he took notice of veritas still embedded within you, and mentally made note of it. " damn, he's still goin', huh ? when was the last time you had any pussy, veritas ? "
" this tight ? " veritas managed to choke out, his thrusting up into you with unabashed roughness now that he was the only one inside, able to fill you up to the hilt of his cock. " i'm gonna cum- and soon, there's no way i can hold back with her like this. can you take it, sweetheart ? can i fill you up too ? "
you nodded, feeling him go harder against you, all of the logic and coordination he had flying into the wind now that he was just seconds away from cumming. he didn't talk dirty like gallagher did, but you knew he was losing his cool, with the way his thrusts got more erratic and rushed, driving him over his own edge.
part of you was honestly grateful that it was done, the other part of you felt empty the moment veritas pulled out of you, the suddenness of no longer have either men filling you up causing you to whimper a little bit.
" aw, she wants us some more, " gallagher chuckled, and you rolled from on top of veritas, content just to sit beside him and rest for a little while. veritas was careful with you, reaching over and taking off the blindfold, being the first thing that you saw when you opened your wet, teary eyes, squinting because you needed to get used to the light again.
" you're so good, dearest, " veritas whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, taking your hands in his and undoing the handcuffs. you knew that they were the just the play handcuffs that you could've easily escaped from, not even needing a lock to undo them, but you also weren't exactly thinking about escaping from them at the time, too consumed with something else.
" thank ya, doll, " gallagher interjected, collapsing on your other side, wrapping his arms around you and pressing a few kisses onto your neck, slightly gentler where he had bitten you. " does it hurt ? "
you paused, your eyebrows creasing together. you couldn't help but be angry at him over this, and veritas for that fact. the sex was nice, but damn, can't a girl get a warning first ? " YES IT FUCKING HURT ?! YOU BIT ME ?? AND MR. RATIO HERE JUST SHOVED HIS FUCKING COCK IN ME WITHOUT A CARE IN THE WORLD ??? " you chewed them both out over this, glaring at both of the men. veritas turned a little sheepish, although he wouldn't show it, while gallagher just gently laughed it off.
" you took it so well, though, dearest, " veritas hummed, turning to rest on his side so that he was face to face with you, his hand cupping the side of your cheek. he was surprisingly gentle, much more than gallagher was. " thank you for indulging the two of us. "
" well, i'll make sure we take care of you extra, now, alright ? to make up for it. " gallagher suggested, and you rolled your eyes, sitting your head on veritas' shoulder, closing your eyes.
" you guys are assholes. and i'm not doing the fuckin' dishes today, so you two fight among yourselves about it since you wanna argue during sex the entire time. like, geez. just admit that you wanted to out do each other and maybe kiss a little. "
" by the way, how did you fare on your physics exam ? " of course veritas would ask that when you had just managed to forget about your day at college.
" OH FUCK OFF, VERITAS. "
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fumikoshi · 3 days
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that lap looks empty 🤤
✧ — CONTENT; 18+ ONLY // MDNI — fem! student reader, use of pet names slightly size kink teacher x student
part 2 of this
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''Sensei, you called for me, what's the problem?''
You couldn't help worrying, would he punish you for unintentionally violating his personal space? You won't forget those images. you blushed as you remembered them. His big hands around his thick cock, his head thrown back, his mouth slightly open...
it was a very seductive view for you, but also shameful.
part of you couldn't help but feel sad, who was he thinking about? Who did he like? You knew it couldn't be you, of course. But it still upsets you, still breaks your heart to think that he was masturbating thinking about another woman...
You loved him so much. You don't care that he is your sensei.
But he didn't know that. Even if he did, he wouldn't have acknowledged your feelings.
because even though you were of legal age, you were still his student. and he wouldn't be in a relationship with his student.
At least that's what you thought.
''Gojo-sensei, i-if you called me because of that day- I am so sorry! I should have knocked on the door before entering. A-and I didn't see anything at all, I swear! I immediately covered my face with my hands, like this.''
you tried to explain yourself, stammering in a panic, and covered your blushed face with your hands.
...
He was silent, you were afraid of his reaction; was he angry with you? Or did he call you here to punish you? everything came to your mind. but these thoughts were interrupted when you heard him giggling with amusement. slowly you removed your hands from his face and looked at him. He had a cocky grin on his face
''Fufu, now now~ Y/n-chan, why are you embrassed~? there is no need to be shy, you know.''
Gojo chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "You're absolutely adorable when you're like this, don't cover your face, Y/N-chan."
He leaned back in his chair, watching you with interest. "I'm glad you came here, I wanted to discuss something vitally important'' *he pats his lap*
''come, sit''
your small face blushed, thinking about sitting on his lap- you were going to die from a heart stroke cause of exiting right now.
''but is it okay-''
"Now now, come here, I just want us to be on the same level when we talk, you know, you're too short, haha~" he laughed under his breath
Gojo's power and confidence were overwhelming, making it hard to resist his orders. Slowly, you walked around the desk and sat on his lap timidly, your small body snug against his. Despite the awkwardness, you couldn't help but feel safe in his arms, his warmth enveloping you.
He slowly wrapped his hands around your waist
''Last night I was walking around the dormitory, just as I passed by your room and I heard some voices coming from your room~ and if I'm not mistaken you were moaning my name~''
you froze in your lap, your eyes widened in shock. he knew what you were doing. He was implying that.
''He smirked, his eyes glinting with amusement. And you were so loud that I couldn't help but imagine what was happening in that little room. What were you doing, Y/N-chan~?''
When you saw your teacher masturbating, you couldn't stand it, you touched yourself that night by imagining him. You were imagining that instead of your own fingers, he had his fingers in your pussy...
God, you wanted to go to the ground. You were so embarrassed right now. Your eyes are starting to fill up, he would be very angry with you for thinking such immoral things.
But contrary to your thinking, gojo liked it very much and is having a lot of fun right now
''S-Sensei, I-I'm so sorry- I can explain-''
"fufu~ don't be so shy, Y/N-chan~ I'm not mad at all. After all, who wouldn't masturbate thinking about someone as handsome and strong as me~?
His hands roamed upwards, cupping your breasts through your clothes, giving them a gentle squeeze. "So, what was it like, imagining me touching you? Did you imagine me burying my face between these soft, luscious tits~?"
His breath ghosted over your ear, sending shivers down your spine. Despite your mortification, you couldn't deny the heat pooling between your legs, the memory of your night's activities stirring a restless ache.
"Go on, tell me, Y/N-chan. what do you want~?''
He continued with that teasing smirk, his hand squeezing your breasts, making you give a soft moan. You couldn't believe he was touching you like this, but also, you didn't want it to stop. You were ashamed of your desires, but his touch was intoxicating.
"Y-you... you're taking advantage of me, Sensei," you stammered, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. The words sounded so weak, even to you.
His hand moved from your breast, slipping under your skirt, gently grazing your thigh, making you squirm in his lap. "No, I'm just satisfying my curiosity," he said, his voice deep and seductive.
Your heart raced, your body reacting to his touch despite your mind telling you to resist. "I-I imagined you touching me, filling me up, Sensei," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper.
Gojo's hand stopped just above your panties, his fingers teasing the edge of the fabric—a clear invitation to go further. "That's it, Y/N-chan, tell me more. What did you fantasize about me doing to you?"
You hesitated, your cheeks burning with a deeper shade of red. "I... I imagined you taking off my panties and licking me... ma... making me... wet" you whispered, your voice shaking. The admission was akin to stripping naked in front of him, leaving you vulnerable, yet it felt exhilarating.
A wicked smile tugged at the corners of his lips as his hand slipped under your underwear, his fingers gliding through your folds, slick with your arousal. "You're already so wet for me, Y/N-chan," he whispered, his voice thick with lust.
His fingers teased your clit, making you gasp and your body arch against him. "I want to taste you, feel you convulse as I make you cum, hear you scream my name."
He pulled your face towards his, his lips crashing against yours in a passionate, demanding kiss. His tongue delved into your mouth, claiming it as he did your body. His hand between your legs worked relentlessly, your moans muffled by his mouth.
"Do you want that, Y/N-chan?" he asked, his voice husky. "Do you want me to pleasure you until you can't think straight, until you're begging for more?"
With his other hand, he unzipped his pants, freeing his throbbing erection. The length of it pressed against your stomach, heat radiating from it. "Tell me, little one," he urged, his eyes dark
with desire, the light in them practically burning.
You could feel the heat radiating from his cock, a stark contrast to the chill that ran down your spine. Every inch of your body was on fire, the intimate touch of his hand driving you to the brink of madness.
Your breathing hitched, your words coming out in a ragged whisper, "Yes, Sensei... I want that."
Boldness overcame your fear, and you reached down, hesitantly wrapping your small hand around his erection. The heat and thickness of it sent a jolt of excitement through you.
Gojo's hand quickened its pace, and your body trembled in response. "Good, Y/N-chan, let's not keep each other waiting," he growled, lifting you off his lap and setting you on your feet.
He guided you to the edge of the desk, pushing you down gently so that you were bent over it. Your heart raced as he positioned himself behind you, his hands gripping your hips.
"Are you ready for me, little one?" he asked, his voice an intoxicating mix of dominance and lust.
You bit your lip, nodding, your body already aching for the fulfillment of his promise. The tip of his cock rubbed against your entrance, the pressure making you squirm in anticipation.
With a groan, Gojo thrusts into you, filling you completely. You cried out, a mixture of pleasure and pain, your body adjusting to his girth. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you back onto him, setting a demanding pace.
''kyaa~AH~!'' you moan loudly and cutely
"Mm, you sound so sweet like that, Y/N-chan," Gojo purred, his voice rough with desire. The sight of your small, tight pussy gripping his cock as he fucked you was a vision he'd never grow tired of.
The rhythm of his thrusts grew in intensity, the sound of flesh meeting flesh filling the room. Your moans grew louder, mingling with the wet slaps, a symphony of carnal pleasure.
"Do you like that, Y/N-chan? Do you like having me inside you?" Gojo asked, his voice deep and demanding. His hand snaked around your waist, rubbing your clit, his fingers expertly manipulating your most sensitive spot.
You cried out, your body quivering as the pleasure coiled inside you, threatening to unravel. "Yes, Sensei, I love it! Please don't stop~!"
"That's it, Y/N-chan, tell me how much you love it," Gojo growled, his thrusts becoming more urgent, his hand working more rapidly on your clit.
Your body trembled, your moans growing louder, the pleasure building to an unbearable crescendo. "Sensei- Sensei, I'm going to cum, I'm going to cum!" you cried out, your body arching, your inner muscles gripping his cock.
Your climax washed over you, a tidal wave of pleasure that left you breathless, your petite body shaking. Gojo continued to thrust into you, driving himself closer to his release.
"Cum for me, Y/N-chan," he commanded, his voice raw and demanding. "Let go, and let me feel your sweet nectar around my cock."
The waves of pleasure crashed over you, your body spasming as you climaxed, your cries of ecstasy filling the room. Gojo followed close behind, you felt his cock twitch inside you, and he groaned, his hips jerking as he filled you with his seed, filling you completely.
He pulled out, his cock glistening with your nectar. He reached down, lifting you up, and you collapsed against him, panting, your chest heaving.
"Such a good little girl~" Gojo cooed, his voice soft and comforting.
"Sensei..." you gasped, burying your face in his chest, your limbs weak from the intensity of your orgasm. You felt utterly sated, yet a small, eager part of you craved more.
His praise brought a small, secret smile to your lips. You liked being called his girl—it made you feel safe and desired, protected by this dominant, all-powerful sorcerer.
You wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head on his shoulder, feeling his heartbeat under your cheek. "I... I love you, Sensei," you admitted, your voice still breathless.
''Do... do you love me too?'' you asked timidly
Gojo smirked, his hand stroking your hair. "Of course, I love you, Y/N-chan. I love you more than anything in this world. You're my precious, my doll, my love, my everything."
He nuzzled your hair, inhaling your scent deeply. "You're mine now, and I won't let anyone else touch you. I'll take care of you, protect you, satisfy you."
His words were a promise, a vow of devotion, and possessiveness. He would love you, spoil you rotten, and indulge every whim and desire. To him, you were more than just a student; you were his.
"And you'll always be mine, Y/N-chan, won't you?" Gojo asked, his eyes gleaming with love and protectiveness. He would never let you go, not when he'd finally found someone who could make him feel this way.
He'd make you his, body and soul, and show you a love that would take your breath away. In his world, you were his, and he would never give you up to anyone.
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TAG: @almsato
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five-rivers · 2 days
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Funeral
“I’m sorry,” said Danny, speaking to the headstone in lieu of anything else to talk to.  He certainly wasn’t going to speak to the empty and expectant grave a few feet away.  “I wanted to wait.  I want to wait.  It’s just–”  He cut himself off, curling his hands into fists.  “There are so many things I haven’t seen, haven’t done.  Jazz got married, you know?  She’s pregnant.  If I was– I could have–”
He fell silent and adjusted the collar of his overcoat, trying to keep the frigid Ghost Zone wind away from his currently human neck.  
“Sam and Tucker are thinking about getting married, now that we’ve all graduated,” he said softly.  “I would have liked to see that, too.  And have a career.  Travel.  I know you wanted to do that, too.  But–”  
He broke off as his voice pitched weirdly, too high, too loud.  Sparks jumped off his fists as his emotions rose.  He flickered in and out of sight and tangibility, and his skin started to–
With an effort, he wrenched himself back together.  
“I’m sorry,” he said again.  “This is why I have to go.  I’m too unstable, and it isn’t like you.  I’m not just a danger to myself.”
(A premonition: Disturbed soil, a hand reaching out, a solid body… but there was nothing there now.  The ground was troubled only by slowly growing grass.)
He turned away from Dani’s grave and walked back to the mortuary shrine.  
The wind kicked up again.  There was ice in it.  
A motto was carved above the threshold of the shrine.  It read, LET THE DEAD BURY THEIR OWN DEAD.  Appropriate.  No one fully living would be here tonight.  Sam, Tucker, and Jazz had all wanted to be, just like they had all wanted to be there for Dani, but there were rules about this kind of thing, old rules, and–
Ice feathered out from under his feet.  And it wouldn’t be safe for them.  
The mortuary shrine was cozy on the inside, not at all like a morgue, or an embalmer’s studio.  There were some similarities, overlaps in function, but the shrine was not organized with decaying fleshy bodies in mind.  The central altar, for example, was high off the ground, for ease of access by the celebrants, but it was soft, bed-like, for the sake of the one who’d lie there.  The other altars were filled with other things, like candles, foods, oils and wines, salt, cloth, books, and strange implements Danny couldn’t name.  All things needed for a burial.  
There was other furniture, too, and the associated accouterments.  Elegant ghost lanterns and a fireplace, burning with cold fire.  Lovely chairs and small tables carved from bright wood.  Plush footstools.  Tapestries and curtains, softening the stone walls.  
Three ghosts waited for him there, the proper number for a rite like this.  Frostbite, his horns only inches from the ceiling.  Pandora, who had taken a smaller form for the occasion.  Clockwork, who looked much the same as he always did, except that he wasn’t changing forms, instead wearing a guise of solid middle age.  
(Danny still had to look up at all of them.  He'd managed to catch up to Jazz, but he'd never reached his father's height.)
“You are ready,” said Clockwork.  
It wasn’t really a question, didn't necessarily call for a response, but Danny understood.  This was his last chance to back out without any more consequences than the ones he was currently experiencing.  
But those consequences were bad enough.  He shuddered as intangibility and invisibility rippled through him again, and he just barely kept a grip on his more destructive powers.  
“Yes,” said Danny.  He looked around the shrine, nervous.  He hadn't been here when Dani did this. He didn't know what came next.  Not in any detail.  “Should I change?”
“No,” said Pandora.  “Not unless you feel the need to.  The ritual will be a guide, as it was for your younger sister.”
“Then we shall begin,” said Clockwork.  
Danny nodded.  
Frostbite came forward fist, and leaned all the way down to kiss Danny’s forehead.  “You are dead, Great One, and we will remember you.”
He stepped back, and Pandora took his place.  “You are dead, little warrior, and we will send you on with honor.”  She pressed a kiss to his forehead as well.  
Then, Clockwork came up.  He looked down at Danny for longer than the other two.  “You are dead, Daniel, and the time comes for all the dead to be laid to rest.”
When Clockwork’s lips brushed against Danny’s forehead, he felt the first strands of the ritual wrap around him like silk.  Still thin and tenuous enough that he could break free, but not without damage to both the weaving and himself.  
Frostbite, meanwhile, had turned to one of the lesser altars.  There was a small teapot chilling there, above a braiser of cold fire.  Frostbite poured its contents into a large mug, then added three scoops of shimmery white powder, each from a different small pot, before stirring three times.  
He held the mug out to Danny.  “For your nerves.”
“Is this drugged?” asked Danny, taking the mug.  He kept his tone light.  Considering the parts of this Danny knew were going to happen, that was really the least of his worries.  
“Drugged and poisoned,” said Frostbite.  “We did research into the best way to ritually account for your continued life.  This is it.”
If Danny was younger, he’d ask if it was going to kill him.  He knew better, now, about how durable half-ghosts were.  Memories of long-ago history lessons, of trivia, of drugged drinks and gentle, honored deaths on cold mountains ghosted through Danny’s mind.  But those were children.  
He raised the mug to his lips and took a drink.  It tasted of chocolate, cream, and a bewildering array of spices and herbs, from capsaicin to vanilla to rosemary.  There was also a bitter undertaste, and Danny would have pulled away instinctively, but as soon as he’d started the reflexive motion, Frostbite put a friendly but firm hand on the back of his head, and another on the bottom of the mug, keeping it tilted back.  
(A premonition: Other hands hovered nearby, ready to assist if Danny resisted.  He could feel them.  One over his nose, another stroking his throat, taking advantage of the remaining reflexes of his human body.  But they weren’t there.  Not yet.)
The rites, now started, would not be so easily refused.  
Danny drank deeply, finding a strange sort of enjoyment in the extended physical contact.  He’d been avoiding touch ever since a nasty scare with his ice powers and Sam’s skin.  There had been close calls before that, too, with his newer, more esoteric powers, but until then…
Frostbite tilted Danny’s head all the way back, ensuring the last few drops of the drink fell past Danny’s lips, then pulled the mug away.  Danny licked his teeth and lips, and swallowed one more time.  He didn’t feel anything yet.  
“What next?” he asked, wincing at the edge of power behind the question.  He should probably just.  Not talk.  Especially not with drugs in his system.  
“After a death, the first step is to clean and prepare the body,” said Pandora.  
Of course.  Danny nodded.  The mortuary shrine… wobbled.  
Frostbite swept Danny up into his arms - which would have been more embarrassing if Frostbite wasn’t huge - and carried him to one of the lesser altars.  It was smooth-surfaced and the neighboring, even smaller altars had bars, bottles, jars, basins of water, and washcloths, all arranged to stand at precise angles from one another.  He was laid down on the altar, and Frostbite and Clockwork started to undress him.  
At first, Danny tried to help, peeling out of his overcoat and sweater quickly.  But then, his movements seemed to… blur.  His mind was still sharp, as far as he could tell, but his limbs were becoming clumsy, slow.  
It was Clockwork who untied his boots, and Frostbite who unbuttoned Danny’s shirt.  By the time they got to his underthings, it felt like there was a barrier between him and his body.  Not anything solid, he could still move, still react, but something muffling, slowing.  Frostbite laid him down so that he was flat on his back on the lesser altar.  Clockwork started going through Danny’s hand with a wet, lightly perfumed, comb.  Frostbite, meanwhile, took out a set of dentists tools and eased Danny’s jaw open with one claw.  
Across the room, at the main altar, Pandora laid layer after layer of cloth.  Some of them were patterned, others plain.  Some were thick with embroidery, others were gossamer thin.  Some were edged with beads or woven with gold, others looked tattered, as if they’d been previously used for something else, the scrupulously cleaned.  
Clockwork, done with Danny’s hair for the moment, moved on to his feet.  It was hard to describe the intimacy of being cleaned like this by someone else.  By someone he knew.  He wasn’t a patient, Clockwork wasn’t a nurse.  He wasn’t an infant, and Clockwork wasn’t his parent.  But this was an act of care and love, offered without judgment.  It was also embarrassingly efficient and thorough.  When a body was cleaned, prepared for internment, it wasn't just the normal surfaces that were cleaned, but areas generally considered private.  
As Clockwork moved upwards, the powers that churned along the surface of Danny’s skin quieted.  They did not go silent - they never did, these days - but they were no longer so maddeningly active.  
Finished with Danny's mouth (which now felt much more clean than it ever did after the dentist's) Frostbite moved on to his nails, clipping and cleaning them, smoothing rough edges and cuticles.  Danny tried to be helpful with this, to at least hold his hands in the right way, but the effects of the drugs were progressing.  His movements were slowing, growing smaller.  
He should be panicking.  The loss of control, at least, should bother him, given the constant vigilance his rapidly growing powerset required.  But, as a human, his emotions were still principally dependent on physical systems and chemical reactions.  His heartbeat was slow, and growing slower.  
They turned him over to work on his back, and Danny half-dozed, eyes barely open, as they diligently scrubbed him clean.  
Then, he was on his back again, anointed with oils and perfumes, smokes and incense wafted over him.  Something wet drew a line from his lips to his groin.  
Danny's heart twitched to a stop. 
Blue-white rings flared from his core in an instant, painfully arresting the moment of death, then swept out to Danny's extremities.  He flinched, twisting on the table, onto his side, suddenly able to move again.  Everything was too bright, too loud, too close, too present.  He covered his face with his arms.
The panic he’d missed earlier was in full force now, shining bright and pure and crystalline in the way only ghostly emotions could.  He was in danger.  He was dangerous.  He could feel his powers coiling, ready to strike, whether it be his will or against it.  He fought them, and paid the price, bones and skin going soft, their fine, detailed structures destabilizing, running like wax, like the flesh of a caterpillar in a cocoon.  
A hand scooped through his sticky, melting flesh and pressed a cool, hard, surface to his lips.  He drank.  It was the same thing Frostbite had given him before, but without the bitterness.  With every gulp, the ritual spun onwards, strands thickening, multiplying.  By the time he was finished drinking, his skin was sticky and damp, but solid again underneath that.  
“No poison this time?” he asked.
“Just because you cannot taste it does not mean it isn’t there,” said Frostbite.  “Do you know what separates a medicine from a poison?”
“Dosage?” hazarded Danny.  Jazz was an MD.  He’d picked up a few things.
All three of the older ghosts chuckled.  Frostbite went as far as to ruffle his hair.
“He does learn,” said Clockwork, unzipping Danny’s jumpsuit (it had grown with him) and gently pushing aside Danny’s hands when he moved to help.  
Whatever was in the second drink, if there was anything at all, it didn’t act nearly as quickly as the first.  He could feel so much more, his sense of touch unblunted.  It made the process of Frostbite, Clockwork, and Pandora undressing him all that much more, especially when they chided him (ever so gently) for trying to help them, for doing anything but lying there like a corpse.  
(Deja vu: Rituals as old as humanity, reaching back, reaching forward.  The preparation of the dead, laying them to rest.  The duty of the family, to clean and prepare, to stand watch, sit vigil, to March the wake, to mourn, to celebrate.  The dead did not move to help.  They did not move at all.)
They washed the spaces between his toes and fingers, his teeth, the backs of his eyelids, the insides of his ears, every nook and cranny they had cleaned when he was in human form was cleaned again.  The stickiness from his earlier destabilization was wiped away, replaced with a dry, fresh feeling.  Invisibility and intangibility stopped wisping across his skin, too tightly bound by the ritual to be used even by accident.  
The perfumes they used now were different, they tickled at his brain and core both, summoning feelings of nostalgia, regret, longing, grief, quiet, peace.  They traced symbols in them, in languages Danny didn’t know but could feel the meanings of, of linear past and spreading future, of the pinpoint present, of decay and rot, of the loosening of muscles, of the blurring of boundaries, of reconstruction, of change, of stability, of things remade, of things caught in time forever.  
Frostbite picked him up and brought him to the main altar.  It was soft, piled high with cloth.  They felt cool and silky on Danny’s bare skin and there was a pillow under his head.  Absently, he ran his palm back and forth across the top cloth.  Or, no, not quite the top one.  The main one he was touching was large, large enough to hang off the altar and pool on the ground, but there was a smaller strip of embroidered cloth, almost like a long belt or ribbon, at the height of his biceps.  
There was, he noted, another such ribbon under his ankles, and another under his knees.  He wondered what they were for.  
He didn’t have to wonder for long.  Clockwork picked up the long ends of the ribbon and wound it around his ankles in a complicated fashion.  The twists and turns showed off the intricacy of the abstract embroidery.  He finished it off with a knot that disappeared under the rest of the ribbon.  
The strings of the ritual gathered faster, wound thicker, tighter, with a physical anchor.  
Clockwork moved on to the ribbon at Danny’s ankles.  The weaving was slightly different, but had the same effect. 
He expected the one under his arms to go the same way.  But instead Pandora, Frostbite, and Clockwork gathered flowers from another altar.  They were all black and white, so it took Danny a moment to recognize them.  Lilies, roses, marigolds, carnations, asphodel, nettle, nightshade, poppies, lycoris.  Flowers for death, for funerals, for mourning.  
Clockwork wrapped Danny’s hands around the bouquet, and pressed the ring finger of his left hand against a rose thorn.  A drop of blood welled up.  Blood, not ectoplasm.  Danny stared, surprised.  But he didn’t get to stare long.  Clockwork produced another ribbon, and wrapped it around the flowers and Danny’s wrists.  
Then, he picked up the other ribbon under Danny and tied it around his upper arms and elbows before tucking the ends into the ribbon around Danny’s wrists.  
It all felt very secure.  
Under normal circumstances, Danny would have been able to escape such flimsy restraints in a hummingbird’s heartbeat.  But it wasn’t just the ribbons that held him.  He could still escape, yes, but it would take a great deal of effort.  
He twitched his shoulder, just to check that he could.  The motion was slow, heavy, and smaller than he expected.  
Pandora put a stilling hand on his shoulder and held a coin up in front of his face.  It was large and silver, inscribed with symbols from languages both long dead and never alive.  Danny wondered if they had made it just for this occasion.  
“A last chance,” said Pandora.
His last chance to back out, is what she meant.  To say something.  He could do it.  He could stop the ritual and suffer the consequences.  He could be a danger to everyone around him for the rest of his existence, however long or short that was.  
He gave Pandora the tiniest shake of his head.  She smiled and pressed the coin against his lips.  He opened his mouth, just enough to take the coin.  It fit comfortably on his tongue, in between his teeth but not jostling against them.  If it wasn’t custom made and sized, it might as well have been.  It tasted metallic and sweet, as if, given enough time, it would dissolve on his tongue. 
Pandora took out one more embroidered ribbon and wrapped it around his jaw and the top of his head, holding his mouth closed.  There was enough tension in the ribbon to press, but not enough for its edges to dig into tender flesh.  Taken together, the coin and ribbon made an effective gag.  
His wail was now bound just as effectively as his intangibility and invisibility, as effectively as his tongue and voice.  For the first time since the incompatibility between his powers and his body became clear, the stress of keeping his wail under control was lifted away.
(A possibility, unraveled: Danny standing at the center of a crater made with his own voice.  No, kneeling.  No, weeping, curled on the ground, head touching dirt and fractured concrete.  He knew those buildings, teetering on the edges of new cliffs.  He knew them.)
This was the right decision.  
The three older ghosts busied themselves at the other, smaller altars briefly, allowing Danny to collect himself and sink deeper into that sense of relaxation.  The wail wasn’t the only thing that had been taken off his shoulder.  All his other voice-based powers were similarly locked away, and he hadn’t even noticed losing his shapeshifting, but he couldn’t touch that, either.  
When Pandora stepped back into his field of view, she was holding a mask.  A death mask, more specifically, styled after Danny’s own face.  Frostbite, next to her, held a small, square cloth, like a handkerchief and a small bottle.  
Clockwork reached out and touched Danny’s face, briefly tracing each of his features.  His lips, his nose, his eyebrows.  He slid his fingers down, pressing Danny’s eyelids closed.  The motion was gentle, but held a strange sort of finality.  
Danny found that he could not open his eyes.  
Fabric, soft and smooth, whisper thin, covered his face and was adjusted, straightened.  Something fragrant dampened it from above, near his nose.  More perfume.  He inhaled.  Exhaled.  Stopped.  
Stopped.  
Stopped.
Before he could have any more thoughts about not being able to breathe, the death mask was pressed into place.  The weight of it pressed the thin shroud over his face snugly into his skin.  It made his other limitations - his eyes, his breath, his general immobility - more acceptable, somehow. 
Other talismans were placed on his skin or tucked into the ribbons.  Some, he could identify by touch.  The ticklish barbs of a feather.  The cold roundness of another, smaller coin.  The familiarity of his childhood stuffed bear.  Others, his powers identified for him.  The sparkling wonder of a lunar meteorite.  The shiver of a carved piece of ghost ice.  The thrumming power and glory of a vial of ectoplasm shed by a god Danny had fought and defeated.  He hadn’t known they’d kept that.  
But other things were too strange to identify by touch alone.  He could make guesses.  Maybe that was a flower petal, maybe this other thing was a coil of string, and while he was sure that last was paper, he couldn’t say what was on it.  
With every token placed, another one of his powers was called up and locked away, like bound by like.  His awareness of the stars winking out as the meteorite was placed was sad.  The powers he’d ‘earned’ from that god being placed firmly out of his reach, however, was only a relief.
He was verging on helplessness, now.  Helpless, but unburdened.  
Clockwork started to speak.  None of the words were recognizable, but Danny knew the feeling of a prayer.  This one was old.  Old old.  Old even by the standards of ancient ghosts.  They hummed briefly in his bones before settling in them like lead weights.  Or golden ones.  
The edges of the sheet he was lying on were lifted up and folded over him, then tucked under him.  Wound around him.  It was a winding sheet.  Of course.  Of course.  The next cloth, too, was pulled up and over him, the motion a little more brisk now that the tokens were held in place by the first sheet.  Then, the next.  Cerecloth and cerements.  
Danny twitched a little, at first, at certain unexpected touches, but when the third wrapping added  its comforting, soothing pressure he was reduced (or, perhaps, elevated) to a state of perfect limpness.  
They added more tokens between the third layer and the fourth, but Danny couldn’t even begin to guess what they were.  They were too muffled by layers of silk - those layers being both the literal layers of cloth and the figurative layers of the ritual.  
Clockwork’s prayers were getting harder to hear, but Danny felt like he could recognize some of them, now.  Snippets of Akkadian, Egyptian, Greek, Latin, a word or two off the Oracle Bones.  Prayers for the dead, for their revenge and their remembrance, for their reverence and their reward, for their repose and their return.  
He was wrapped again and again, until the pressure, the gentle rocking motion necessary to wrap him, and the nearly unintelligible rhythm of Clockwork’s prayers threatened to lull him to sleep.  
He could hear snatches of Esperanto, now, and English.  
“... rest, and rest in peace… until waking… to hope… blessing in memory…”
Some parts of it felt familiar.  Others were strange, so strange, but he was bound so securely, now, that he almost felt as if he was floating.  
“... iron and wood, we entrust this most precious… an embrace… the hallowed graves… deliver and defend…”
No, he was floating, sort of.  He’d been lifted up, sheets and all, and now he was being moved sideways.  Sideways, and now down, down, into a snug cavity.  Was he bordered by flowers?  Pillows?  Both?  He couldn’t tell.  
“... into silk… like dust by sunlight into gold… changed… after a long day, to sleep…”
A faint weight draped over him, a final sheet covering him.  He felt, with a strange sense that lay deeper than instinct, further down and closer to his heart and soul, that Pandora, Frostbite, and Clockwork had drawn closer, that they were kneeling beside his casket or coffin, heads bowed.  
“Now we lay thee down to sleep,” whispered Clockwork, words startlingly clear despite his voice being harder to hear than ever, “we pray thy grave thy soul to keep, until thou choose the form thou take, and the hour thou shall wake.”
“And should thou never wake,” whispered - someone.  It was getting harder to tell the muffled voices apart.  “We shall mourn for thy sake.”
Very slowly, the force pushing in and down on Danny increased, deliciously.  It was almost enough.  
(Danny didn’t know where that thought had come from.)
A loud thump shuddered through Danny.  Another.  They were nailing him in.  Another restraint.  Another limitation.  Another step towards the cumulation of the ritual.  Almost.  Almost.  
Thirteen nails sealed Danny into the coffin.  
(He had been snug before.  Now, he wasn’t sure he could have moved even if the ritual hadn’t removed the ability from him.)
(All his powers were bound.  There was no more sense of responsibility keeping him awake.  His body was cocooned in every way possible.  There was no more fear about destabilizing and melting.  None of his choices would change what would happen to him next.  Only a curiosity about what it would feel like to be buried kept him from succumbing to his soul-deep exhaustion then and there.)
Vaguely, ever-so-vaguely, Danny could feel his coffin lifted, moved.  He knew where he was going.  Out of the mortuary shrine, across the lawn, down the rows and rows of graves, and to one grave in particular.  He’d wanted to be buried next to family, and Dani was his only family available.  
They stopped.  He was lowered.  Down.  Down.  Stopped again.  
A chill stole over Danny, like the cool side of a pillow, but all over his body, as if it meant to draw out the last of the warmth of life from his ectoplasm.  Restful.  
The dirt came down in sifted shovelfuls, like rain on a roof, like distant thunder.  And– he did have more powers, either so subtle he didn’t notice them as such or as of yet undiscovered.  These were buried as thoroughly as the others.  
Up and up the dirt piled, until he could barely feel it as it came down.  Until all that was left was the weighty, solid thump of a headstone coming down.  
Then there was nothing.  Nothing but silence, stillness, silk… and sleep.
.
Danny woke with the comfortable confusion of someone who had gotten their blanket wrapped around them unevenly while they slept.  Slow, unhurried, well-rested, but just slightly less cozy than expected.  
He shifted, mumbling and rolling over.  No, that wasn’t any good.  He made a face.  There was something on his face.  He reached up to wipe it off, and the sheets wrapped around him tore like cobwebs.  
That roused him further.  This… he did not think this was his bed.  It was his, but not his bed.
He wiped something thin and crackly off his face and inhaled deeply.  Dust.  Salt.  Dust, salt, and something like decay, but sharper, fresher, cleaner.  
He breathed, remembering.  His mouth tasted like silver and sugar.  His hands quested outward, seeking, seeking, until he found the edges of the space he was in.  
This was his grave.  His coffin.  
It was bigger than he’d imagined.
His eyes opened to a darkness relieved only by his own faint glow.  The many sheets he had been wrapped in had been reduced to fragile scraps, except a very few that remained stubbornly wrapped around his shoulders.  His mask was a thin shell.  The flowers were desiccated, colorless strands and flakes.  The pillows were flat and torn, showing the wooden sides of the coffin in places.  The only token he could see and identify was the plush and pristine form of Neil Bearstrong.  He gathered the toy close, pressing him against his chest.  
He’d made it.  He was awake, aware, and apparently stable, when before he’d been bracing himself for death.  He breathed out, breathed in.  His breath caught in his throat, and he giggled.  
Did that mean Dani had made it, too?
He rolled onto his back and put a hand against the lid of the coffin.  It looked strange there.  Disproportionate.  But of course it did.  His body had just finished reformatting itself into a stable form.  Frostbite had told him that he’d probably look different, maybe even radically different.  Clockwork had even confirmed that medical opinion, from a temporal perspective.
Positives: his hand was a recognizably human hand.  He was awake.  
He didn’t dare turn human - if he even could - until he had Frostbite and the others look him over.  He wouldn’t be able to phase through the Ghost Zone’s soil.  Teleportation was inadvisable while he was this disoriented.  So were portals.  And most powers, really. 
He’d have to dig his way out.  
Bracing himself, making sure his limbs were free of restraint, he drew back his fist to punch the lid.  The dirt would come in fast, and he wasn’t sure how deep he was.  Six feet was traditional, of course, but it was also traditional for the dead to stay that way.  So.  
The lid flew upward under the force of his strike, all the dirt overhead bending away.  He grabbed the edges of the hole and pulled down, widening it enough for him to claw his way out without warping his body.  He… wasn’t quite ready for that, after the whole melting thing.  
He burrowed upward, feeling like something between a worm and a badger, batting away dirt, crawling, squirming, reaching upward.  Despite his best efforts, some of the winding sheets came with him, clinging, slowing his passage.  Still, his hand hit free air.  Grass tickled at his fingers.  He set his palm down on the ground, and pulled.  
The dirt did not want to let him go.  It pulled back, its embrace offering an eternal peace, but Danny was firm, eager to go, to see, to live.  He pushed himself up, and out, then lay, panting, on the ground.  
That had been… more tiring than expected, actually.  
Someone propped him up, large hands bringing him into a sitting position.  “Daniel,” said Clockwork.  A loose and oddly cut robe was wrapped around him.  
“Mm,” said Danny, his voice cracking.  
A cup was raised to his lips.  He drank greedily, the sweet, floral liquid soothing his dry throat.  
“Shall we get you cleaned up?” asked Pandora, another hand, laid on the center of his back.  
“Can you walk?” asked Frostbite.  “Or fly?”
“Yes,” said Danny, hoarsely.  He reached up to put his hand on Clockwork’s shoulder.  It took some to get it there.  It was further away than he’d thought.  
He was smaller than he had been.  Not entirely unexpected.  Returning to one’s appearance at death was, apparently, one of the more common ways for this to go.  But had he really been this small at fourteen?
They did not go to the mortuary shrine, but made their uncertain way to the other shrine in the graveyard: the revival shrine.  The structure was much the same inside and outside, but it had only one altar.  The rest of the space was reserved for a bath, bed, and mirrors.  
Pandora guided him to a chair in front of one of the mirrors.  Danny stared.  He wasn’t much to look at right now, but what he could see of his body… 
It hadn’t been a winding sheet dragging at him as he’d crawled through the dirt.  It had been wings.  He shrugged the loose robe off his shoulders to see them better.  They were patterned with white and black, star and moon shapes on a dark background. He had antennae.  Long, soft, feathery looking things curving up and back from his temples.  
Clockwork brought a damp cloth to his face and, slowly, began to clean away the dirt.  
“Surprised?” asked Clockwork.  
“Are you?” 
Clockwork chuckled.  
“Did Dani– Is Dani–?”
“She woke seventeen years ago,” said Clockwork.  “She is quite smug about technically being older than you in terms of lived experience.”
“She would be,” said Danny.  
He pulled away from Clockwork’s ministrations to get another look at the mirror.  He had about the same proportions he did when he was a teenager, and his hair was as white as it ever was in ghost form, but it sparkled, as if someone had dusted it with silver glitter.  His antennae matched the color pretty well, too.  Star-shaped freckles littered his cheeks, and when he tilted his head this way and that…  There was an effect like a hologram, depending on the light, of a dark or glimmering domino mask around his eyes.  
And, beneath that, his basic features, the structures of his bones…  They looked about the same as they had when he was young.  Except… softer, somehow.  More neutral.  The change, as subtle as it was, gave him a genderless mien.
(The idea of that trend continuing elsewhere on his body didn’t bother him nearly as much as he would have expected before this.)
He wondered what he would look like in human form.  But… later.  Later.  
For now, Pandora was running a tiny brush though the delicate hairs of his antennae, removing irritating bits of soil and grass.  
“In fact,” said Pandora, “I would wager that she will be smug about physically appearing older than you.”
“She looks older than me, too?” asked Danny.  “That’s hardly fair.”
“That is the way of things, I’m afraid.  She hadn’t truly died until she was buried.”  
“But she’s okay?”
“She’s doing very well, last I saw her,” said Frostbite.
“And Jazz?  Sam and Tucker?”
“All fine,” said Clockwork.  “They visit you frequently.”
Pandora did something complicated with telekinesis that pulled most of the dirt from Danny’s skin and left him feeling distinctly fluffed.  The fuzz along the bases and upper edges of his wings stood on end.  He shook himself all over, then plucked the washcloth from Clockwork’s hands so he could clean behind his ears and in-between his toes.  
“Clothes?” asked Clockwork.  
“Cut for wings?” challenged Danny.  
“Of course.”
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thefantasyden · 3 days
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Soft and Sweet
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Pairing: Changbin x F Reader
Genre: SMUT, FLUFF
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Warnings: Daddy Dom Binnie, Binnie talking in 3rd person, Binnie makes reader say what they want, fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex (no pullout), praise
Word count: 1761
Synopsis: When the rain ruins your plans, sweet Daddy Binnie finds other ways to keep his girl entertained.
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"Uhhh, I don't think we're going anywhere today, Binnie."
A loud groan fills your apartment as he joins you at the window, staring down at the flooded street as the rain slams down on the pavement, the drips along the glass chasing after each other.
"Great picnic weather if you ask me."
He's face down on the couch by the time you've found the energy to move, and he doesn't budge when you sit on top of his thighs, sprawling out on top of him like his very own weighted blanket.
"We should build a fort!" You chirp joyfully, bouncing with excitement, causing him to shake beneath you, his bright laughter filling your ears as he tries to turn over, almost knocking you off until his arms wrap secure around your waist.
"Hmmmm, if my baby wants a fort, then we can make a fort."
A quick kiss finds your forehead before you're pushed carefully off his lap, giggling as you watch him run toward your bedroom to grab as many spare blankets and pillows as he could find, dropping a few as he tried to carry them all back. You ran to grab what he'd dropped, and he throws everything onto the coffee table, already moving sections of the couch onto their sides to create a cosy little den.
"Wait! I didn't think about the clean-up!" You pout, throwing a cushion at him, his eyes rolling exaggeratedly at you.
"Shhhh. Binnie will take care of it."
There was something about the way he spoke in third person that made you feel light and airy, watching him happily arrange everything until he'd created a cosy, safe space for you both and settling himself in against the cushions.
"C'mere baby!"
A dramatic sigh leaves your chest, and you slowly creep toward him, feigning an annoyance that never reaches your eyes.
"I'm comin' Daddy, relax!"
A cheesy grin spreads across his cheeks, and he's pulling you on top of him so he can smother your face with kisses, only spurred on by your loud giggling until you're pushing at his chest, gasping for air. He doesn't relent until you squeal, his fingers tickling your sides ever so slightly.
"You're just too cute, you know that?"
The compliment causes your cheeks to heat up the same way they always did when you were the sole focus of his attention and you're quick to hide your face in his neck, whining when he lays flat against the nest he'd built causing you to fall on top of him, his arms still tight around your waist.
"Not nearly as cute as you, my Binnie."
He rolls his eyes at you with a smirk on his face, gently tipping you off him and to his side only to lay his own body lazily over yours, his leg thrown over your thighs and light kisses pressed to your shoulder.
"Maybe I'm a good teacher then." He whispers against your skin, nipping lightly. "Because you could rival me any day, baby."
His tone is decidedly suggestive, but you can feel the silly smile tugging at the corner of his lips, and it just encourages your quiet laughter, your own hands running along his side to slip under his shirt, caressing the softness of his tummy.
"Are you flirting with me or something?" You ask in your best seductive voice, earning yet another eye roll from the object of your affections.
"Hmm, thanks for noticing."
A wandering hand finds your thigh, and soft fingertips begin teasing their way up toward the crease where it meets your hip, poking at the soft skin as he hums against your shoulder, travelling down lower toward your chest over the thing material of your tshirt.
"Binnie..." You gasp as his fingers find your clit effortlessly through your shorts, rubbing small circles.
"Shhh bunny. Binnie wants to make his pretty girl feel good. Is that okay?"
His voice is sweet, gently coaxing you into a blissful state of pure comfort as he adds pressure to his touches, adjusting himself slightly so that he was now settled carefully between your thighs.
You nod in response, and he tuts at you, shaking his head slightly.
"Nuh uh. Words, baby. You know I need you to say it."
A whine of complaint manages to slip through your lips before you can catch it, and he simply coos in response, catching your lips in a tender yet needy kiss that encourages a need to obey that rises in you.
"Yes, Daddy. Want you to make me feel good."
He's easy to please, eagerly accepting your consent as he tugs your shorts down, sighing dreamily at the sight of your pussy laid bare for him. His touch is delicate as he swipes his thumb between your folds, admiring how your sticky juices coat the digit before he experimentally holds it up to your lips, a light groan urging you on as you wrap your lips around it, sucking his thumb into your mouth as you stare at him with hooded eyes.
"You drive me insane, you know that?"
It was less of a question and more of a statement that he doesn't expect answered, your airy laughter filling him with pride. Changbin loved the way you laughed in such intimate moments, always wanting to hear his favourite sound spilling from your lips.
He leans back, adjusting your position so that your knees are bent and he has the perfect view of your entrance as he presses two thick fingers inside of you, savouring your quiet moans and drawn out gasps as he curls them against your gspot. It's just enough to keep you feeling floaty whilst allowing you a moment to adjust to the intrusion until he hears your quiet pleas, your hips tilting up deliciously in an attempt to take more of his fingers into your greedy hole.
"Patience, baby. Binnies gonna give you what you need. Be good for me, okay?"
You nod with tears stinging the corner of your eyes, incoherent ramblings of various pleading words filling the room as he sets a languid pace, fingers thrusting deliciously into you as his lips meet yours once again, his tongue dipping into your mouth to prod at your own. You could never get enough of the way he kissed you. It was lazy, yet passionate and always a little messy.
"Binnie, more. Please. I want more!"
"More what, Bunny? More fingers? Are you being greedy already?"
"No- yes but- fuck. You, please. Want you."
He plants an exaggerated kiss on your nose before burying his face in your neck, nuzzling at the skin as he removes his fingers from your now aching cunt, the wet digits finding your hip as he begins harshly rutting his covered bulge against you, your back arching slightly in response to the new form of stimulation.
"Tell me what you want, baby. Need you to use your voice. Tell Binnie you want his cock and he'll give it to you."
It's almost impossible for you not to huff in frustration, but you manage to hold back. You were rarely a brat, and you weren't about to test new waters when you were so close to getting what you wanted.
"Please fuck me, Daddy. Need you to fill me up! Don't you wanna watch me take your cock? Always take it so well for you, Binnie."
He feels the breath knocked from his lungs at your desperate rambling, unable to create a worthy sentence as he tugs his sweats down, quickly freeing his cock and rewarding you with a deep, uncensored groan as he ruts against your slick cunt, coating himself in your juices before he begins inching his length into your entrance, watching almost mesmerised as you suck him in, keening against him. He's amazed by how impatient you are even when you're hissing at the subtle sting of his thick cock stretching you.
"Okay, baby?" He asks between kisses to your forehead and cheeks, stilling once he's buried to the hilt, waiting for you to whisper a yes that quickly mingles with dreamy, blissful sighs and gasps.
He's quick to lock his hands with yours once he has your confirmation, your hands pinned beside your head as he sets a rough pace, pulling back almost completely every single thrust so that you get the full effect of his thick tip brushing harshly against your gspot, your pussy pulsing around him only spurring him on.
"So pretty like this, Bunny. You really do take me so good, hm? My sweet baby. Feels good, yeah?"
He knows it does. Your nails are digging into his hand, and you can't keep still, your hips bucking to meet his and your head thrown side to side. He's sure you'd be clawing at him if you could, pressing his body closer to yours so that you get the incredible friction of his pelvis supplying a subtle pressure to your clit when you grind up into him.
"Wanna cum. Binnie, please! Can I cum? Wanna cum so bad I-"
"You can cum baby. Cum for Daddy, okay?"
His thumb rubs gently over your hand, soothing you slightly as overwhelming pressure crashes down on you, drowning you as you shake against him, his body pressing flush to yours, exactly how you like it. The crowding feeling of him caging you in combined with his contrasting soft touches has you cumming hard enough to leave you gasping, used pussy clenching hard around him pushing him over the edge before he'd expected, his teeth finding your neck as his own degree of overstimulation catches him off guard.
You can feel his sweat dripping onto your neck as he grinds ever so slightly into you, allowing your pulsing walls to milk his cock until he can't bear it any longer, hesitantly pulling away from you to blindly reach for one of the many blankets splayed out around you.
You barely register his movement, your ears ringing, and your body spent as he wraps the fluffy material around you, pulling you into his body and holding you close, his hand patting a slow, soft rhythm against your ass as if attempting to sooth your still twitching body.
It's pure bliss in the safety and warmth of your cosy little fort, a grateful smile tugging at him when he hears that melodic giggle he loves so much in response to him turning the tv on, yet another of his endless subtly of kisses finding your hair.
"You're definitely the cutest thing on this planet."
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212 notes · View notes
roosterforme · 24 hours
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Covering the Classics Part 12 | Bob Floyd x OC
Summary: When Anna noticed that a new poem by her favorite, amateur writer had been posted, she was afraid to read the finality in his tone. But Bob always managed to surprise her. And maybe she could find a way to surprise Kevin, too.
Warnings: Angst, Kevin is a dick, adult language, 18+
Length: 3600 words
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)
Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!
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After that, it was radio silence. Anna didn't reach out to Bob, and he didn't try to either. He went to the Hard Deck on Friday night and lasted about an hour before excusing himself. Nobody asked him why he was bailing after one ginger ale and a single cup of peanuts, and that was enough to tell him that everyone knew. Everyone knew he slept with Anna. Everyone knew she was married. Everyone knew that they shouldn't talk about it in front of him for fear that the ladies would snap their necks. Even Nat was being very kind and considerate which wasn't really like her at all. 
When Bob was halfway to the door, he felt a small hand curl around the back of his bicep. "I'll see you tomorrow night for D&D?"
He nodded down at Jessica's hopeful face. "Yeah. I can pick you up if you want."
Her face brightened a little bit. "I'll text you in the morning." He turned to walk out, and her hand slid down his arm. "Hey, Bob? Don't give up hope on her, okay?"
He didn't know how to respond, so he just kept walking. He had no idea what to say or what to think. It wasn't like he could stop loving someone overnight. He didn't really want to either. Anna's life was quite frankly messier than he had ever expected. She did a pretty good job of hiding it from everyone, and it seemed like she would have continued down that path if they didn't have sex. And that was the other issue; it wasn't just sex to Bob. Anna knew about the things he tried to hide himself, and she seemed to want him in that moment anyway. 
Her words from the previous night made him ache. 
'You're perfect. You're Sky Writing. You're the handsome man from the bookstore who smells like tea and soap. You're Bob, the guy my friends knew I would fall in love with as soon as I met them.'
If that meant she was in love with him or that she thought she could be someday, then he was afraid to walk away from her. But now he was terrified of getting hurt or somehow hurting Anna like Kevin had. Part of him believed if he could just see Anna's husband with his own eyes, confirm that he was exactly the way she described him, then he might be able accept that she just needed time to settle her divorce and to heal. If that was the case, he wanted to make it work. 
In the meantime, when he got home, he ended up standing in his living room, staring at his bookshelf before going upstairs and staring at his bed. He could still picture her red hair all spread out for him. He could still feel it between his fingers as the silky strands slid along his palm. He could taste her on his tongue. He could hear her telling him what she wanted.
Bob picked up his computer and slipped under the covers, knowing he wasn't going to be able to sleep right now.
----------------------------
It had been there since early Saturday morning. A new one. Anna desperately wanted to read it and memorize it like she had the others, but she was afraid to face the finality. Her email alert mocked her every time she looked at it.
Sky Writing has posted a new, original work! Click the link below to check out the subscriber that you follow!
Bob wrote a new poem, and she didn't think she could handle reading exactly how he viewed her now. He'd never be like Kevin, openly belittling her or putting her down, but she knew the shiny packaging had been removed now, and he saw what was really inside. Just a mess of a human. She put off reading it and put off reading it, but when she was sitting at her desk at work on Monday, she made herself decide between reading the new poem or calling Kevin. After a fairly short debate, she decided to read the poem. It was probably so bad, calling Kevin later wouldn't even feel painful in comparison. 
She tapped on the link in her email and was taken to something so unexpected, she gasped as she read it.
There is empty space on my bookshelf,
The one I bought with you in mind.
I didn't know it was for you at the time,
But one night made it obvious,
Before an instance took it.
Reality surpassed intention today.
Your worn favorites and mine pristine,
Should mingle and mix,
Genre forgotten.
Dog eared pages became so endearing.
But I'll never see them on my shelf,
Unless you come back and stay this time.
The format was different from what he usually wrote, but it was so obviously Sky Writing. So obviously Bob. So obviously about her. And he didn't sound angry. Could he possibly miss her after everything she did and said?
She jumped when her phone vibrated on her desk, and for a split second, she believed it could be Bob. Her heart beat faster with anticipation, but it was from somebody else.
Jessica Reed: If you don't come down to this weird tree right now, we're going to come up and get you.
Anna had lost track of time. It was after noon now. She knew that her friends were trying to make sure she was holding herself together after she refused to go to the Hard Deck over the weekend. How could she continue to go somewhere that Bob had the rights to first? It wasn't until she read his Sky Writing poem that she thought perhaps there was a chance he might not only be okay with her presence but perhaps even miss her like she missed him.
With her sad little lunch in hand, she dragged herself down to the quad, trying to decide when was the best time to call Kevin. She was tired of going through lawyers who couldn't seem to get him to budge, and each ninety day window just ate away at more of her soul. She should have been so much more careful with her writing when she had the opportunity, and now he'd completely locked her out of being able to access it. 
No, she was going to have to beg him, plead with him, anything it took to get what she wanted without giving away where she'd moved. Maybe if he agreed to let her have her manuscript, one of her friends would let her borrow money for a flight back to New Jersey to retrieve it. She was getting ahead of herself, but she couldn't help it. She needed to at least get this one thing.
"There she is!"
Anna looked up to see her friends directly in front of her on the bench by the tree, and the fact that they both looked happy to see her made her heart ache. "Hi," she said softly as she sat down between them when they both scooted over.
"Hummus?" her friend asked, passing along a container while she bit into her perfect looking chicken salad sandwich on artisan bread. Anna accepted a few bites of Bradley's gourmet snack, because she was absolutely starving today.
"Thanks," she murmured, and she let herself sink into the background a little bit as the two other women continued the conversation they'd been having. Now that she was down here with his friends, she couldn't stop thinking about Bob again. His soft hair and his kind eyes. The way he always paid attention to her when she was talking. How good he made her feel.
She listened to her friends argue about alumni weekend for a few minutes before she finally cut them off to ask, "Has Bob said anything about me?" Both of them looked at her, and she quickly added, "I can't stop thinking about him."
Jessica smiled softly and said, "Not a word, but I've never seen him look so sad. And I mean that in a good way, because although I know he's confused and hurt, I'm pretty sure he just misses you."
"But," the other woman quickly cut in, "the most important thing right now is making sure you take care of yourself. Even if you are in love with Bob."
"Oh!" Jessica exclaimed. "I have an idea! We could just kill Kevin!"
Anna snorted in spite of herself. "That would actually solve a lot of my problems. Maybe even all of them."
"Only one problem with that," Advanced Calculus said blandly. "You're not a killer, Jessica."
"I could kill someone," Jessica muttered under her breath, and truly Anna almost laughed, because Jessica Reed was one of the gentlest people she'd ever met. The most violent thing about her was her Dungeons & Dragons character. "I could at least probably slap him."
"He wouldn't know what hit him," Anna said, and all three women erupted into laughter. And it felt so strange to feel genuine happiness, even if it only lasted for a few seconds, that Anna almost started crying. As their amusement died down, she asked her friends, "Do you think.... Bob would respond if I texted him?"
Jessica squeaked, and then both women said, "Yes."
---------------------------
Bob was back to square one. Back at the bookstore. He was fifteen minutes early. He was already looking through the Classics. He was about to meet up with Anna. He was nervous.
Nat scoffed when he told her where he was going, and he truly did appreciate that his friend wanted him to proceed with caution, but she just didn't understand how Anna made him feel. Being friends with her after sleeping together a total of one time might kill him, but he knew that was probably all he could have now.
It was almost like he could sense that she was there. He looked up from the Shakespeare volume in his hand, and he saw her walk in the door. As he got closer to the loft railing, he saw her glance up and meet his eyes like it was some depraved version of Romeo and Juliet. She mouthed the word Hi before she headed for the stairs, and in less than a minute, she was standing right in front of him. 
Anna looked nervous, but everything else was just the same. Those perfect freckles decorated her face. Her brown eyes were bright. Her pretty hair was in a messy braid. He saw her burgundy nail polish as she fidgeted with her denim jacket. He wanted to know if she still thought he was the kind of person she could love. He wanted to ask her if her husband was any closer to signing papers. Instead he said, "I was surprised when you texted me."
Her eyes went wide, and he wished he could shove his foot in his mouth as she started looking around anywhere but at his face. "I need some books for my feminist literature course, and I just thought maybe you'd like more books for your bookshelf."
Had she read his newest poem? It was a sloppy one that he wrote late on Friday night and posted on a whim. She could have deleted her account by now or vowed never to read anything else by Sky Writing. But that didn't stop the poem from being about her.
"I do need some more books for my shelves," he replied, and her eyes finally settled on his again. "And you don't have to be nervous around me. I know you're dealing with a lot, and I promise I won't touch you or anything."
Now she just looked sad and distraught, but she nodded and turned down the very aisle where they first met. Bob had to fight to keep a few feet of space between them as she said, "I'm looking for Mary Wollstonecraft, Charlotte Perkins Gilman, and Elizabeth Cady Stanton."
They worked their way slowly up and back down each aisle, falling into a natural conversation in spite of the awkwardness between them. In spite of the way Bob couldn't keep himself from looking at her as she ran her fingers along the spines. When she wanted something that was on a top shelf, he reached it down for her. When her hands got full, he offered his up for her use. And to his delight and also sadness, she kept recommending books for him along the way. That's how he ended up with Miss Pettigrew Lives For a Day as well as The Importance of Being Earnest in his hand when she led the way downstairs to pay.
Bob cleared his throat as Anna reached into her pocket for some cash. "I can get them."
Her brown eyes snapped up to meet his, and her cheeks turned pink. He already knew what Kevin did, and while he didn't think there was any harm in saying it, he could tell that she at least had her pride intact. "The college is going to reimburse me," she said firmly before handing forty dollars across the counter.
"Right," Bob said before paying for his own books. When they walked out into the fading sunlight, he looked down into her pretty face. "Will you let me drive you home? Not because I think I need to, but because I want to?"
She seemed at war with herself as she looked across the street and pressed her lips together. But her eyes fluttered closed and she said, "I would really appreciate that."
The interior of his truck was quiet the whole way as their books sat on the seat between them. Only the soft hum of the radio helped Bob hold his thoughts at bay. The ride wasn't too long, and when they were most of the way there, Anna finally spoke. 
"I'm going to deal with my shit. I promise."
Unsure exactly how he should respond, Bob simply said, "Okay."
When he pulled up in front of her building, he turned toward her, intending to ask if she wanted him to walk her up, but she was gathering her books together as she said, "I don't know how you feel about me now. I don't know if you could want me again. But I am going to deal with Kevin. I am going to fix my life. Because I want to move on. I need to." When he was so flustered that he didn't immediately respond, Anna said, "You know where to find me. Thanks for the ride."
He watched her run up the sidewalk before struggling to open the door with her arms full, and then she ducked inside when he finally figured out what he wanted to say. "I'll find you."
-------------------------------
If Anna even had a hope or a prayer at a chance with Bob ever again, she needed to work up the nerve. A real chance with him now that he knew all about her disastrous marriage was what she wanted, but she needed to sort Kevin out first. 
As far as she could tell, everything came down to two options: keep her freedom by giving Kevin ownership of her manuscript, or keep her self worth by fighting until she didn't have anything left to give up. And both of them sounded terrifying. The whole weekend passed where she tried so many times to call him. She took her phone out again and again, let her thumb hover over her husband's phone number, and then chickened out. His voice was like a distant memory, and she didn't want to bring it back to the forefront of her mind. He hadn't reached out one time since she up and left without telling him where she was going, and she was afraid to let him know where she was now.
The worst part was, he would know immediately why she was calling. He knew that he had the one thing she wanted. He cut off her access to the cloud files where she should have been able to piece her writing back together. It would have been time consuming, but she would have been all too happy to do it. She should have known better than to let him have so much of her life and so many of her resources in only his name, but there was a time when she trusted him. That was the part that made her so sick. She had trusted her husband, and now look where it got her.
A shiver went through her body as she woke up for work too early on Monday morning. She wanted Kevin's computer where everything was saved. She wanted access to the cloud. She didn't want a damn penny from him otherwise. She was aggressively brushing her teeth, wishing she had more to eat than a granola bar when she spit out her toothpaste and rinsed her mouth.
She hated him. She hated him so much, she was going to call him right now. Without a backward glance, she marched over to where her phone was charging and pulled the cable out. Before she could even think about exactly what she was going to say, she tapped on his stupid name.
Anna was breathing fast and deep, her heart pounding in her ears when she heard his voice for the first time in so many months.
"Anna?" he asked, her whole body cringing after just one word. His voice was scratchy as if she had woken him up, but it was 9:16 in New Jersey. He should be on his way to work if not there already.
"Kevin," she snapped, gripping her phone tighter. She was getting angrier by the second as she listened to him yawn while she looked around her tiny apartment.
His tone was condescending as he said, "Of course you'd call me at six in the fucking morning after I haven't hear a word from you except through a lawyer since July. What the hell do you want?"
She couldn't do this. She couldn't talk to him. While she felt strong a few minutes ago, her resolve was already crumbling. She wanted to tell him that he knew damn well what she wanted, but then she zeroed in on what he said. "What do you mean it's six in the morning? It's after nine."
His voice was suddenly loud and harsh. "I meant exactly what I said. I'm in California for a medical convention. Now get to the point of your call."
Her mouth felt like sandpaper as she carefully put her phone on speaker. She started searching for Neurological conventions in California while she told him, "I just want my manuscript. Please, Kevin. That's all I want, and then you can be rid of me."
The bite was gone from his voice, replaced by a lazy tone, and he spoke to her as if she were a very simple child. "It's not going to happen, Anna. I didn't cut off access to it for no reason. It's worth money. You can pay me for it, or you can kiss it goodbye. I might even publish it myself."
She was gasping for air as she scrolled through her search results, coming up with a conference in Carlsbad that was starting today. As the page loaded, she swallowed and told him, "I'll sue you if you do." But even she knew she was full of shit.
"What what money, Anna? I'm surprised you can still afford your lawyers. I don't even want to know what you're doing to make ends meet right now."
Then she saw it. She saw his name. He was a keynote speaker at the National Neurological Physicians Association conference. He was less than an hour away. She sank down to her knees in surprise and fear. Her mind was swirling with information and ideas, and she couldn't even comprehend what Kevin was saying now.
"What?" she gasped.
"I said come up with some money for me, or I'm not signing shit." Then he ended the call as her hands started shaking. She dropped her phone onto her bed. He was in Carlsbad. Maybe she could surprise him. Maybe she could talk him into it easier in person.
Anna had to run to the bathroom to be sick, but her mind was made up. Once she cleaned herself up again, she tearfully made the decision to cancel her morning classes via email, and then she started grabbing her purse and her essentials. She folded up the newest copy of the divorce paperwork her lawyer had emailed to her and tucked it away. Then she ran for the bus stop, nearly tripping several times as she read through the schedule of speakers who were at the conference this week on her phone. If she caught a bus within the next fifteen minutes, she might make it in time to see Kevin right before he gave his welcome speech.
---------------------------
We will meet Kevin in the next chapter. Now is an acceptable time to start sharpening your knives. Bob, please don't give up on Anna. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
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pyrpaw · 3 days
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Can i have uhhh first year gang visiting yuu in their world? Thank youu
hell yeah you can have that 🙏 I did a little intro to the situation, and then some head cannons
(contents: might be a but ooc because I imagine they'd be pretty happy to see you again after you disappeared without saying bye, (name) is mentioned to go to school and have a job, their age isn't mentioned but they are implied to live alone(for plot reasons<3))
How did... you get here?
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(I had no gif ideas)
You thought you were crazy, you got transported into some place called "Twisted wonderland" and then, you randomly got back home! and seemingly no time had passed, was it just an elaborate dream?... you had no clue, but you had to continue your life like normal. So, going back to school, your job, all of that, left with no one to rant to about how you missed your friends from Twisted wonderland... because are they even real?
Turns out, they were real! because at 2 in the morning you were doing your homework and heard banging and talking from another room, it sounded like multiple voices so you quickly tried to find your phone... only to realize it's downstairs. So, grabbing a hammer in your room you silently made your way outside your room and as silently as you could, downstairs. You heard the voices growing closer and closer, your anxiety peaked as you held your breath and froze, panic filling you as when one of the figures was about to round the corner. Once you saw a foot step out you immediately stood up and lifted the hammer up in a panic, ready to strike down.
And once your hands were already going down you met eyes with a familiar green haired fae who flinched as his head was struck with a hammer. You two stared at each other in shock and confusion, as the other first years came over to see what happened, everyone's eyes widened when they saw you... and the hammer that connected with Sebek's head.
"... Sebek?" You spoke in a quiet voice, slowly pulling the hammer back down as you stared at him. He silently nodded as the others stared at you in awe. You couldn't comprehend any words, before getting tackled into a hug from Ace as he buried his face into your neck and spoke with a shaky voice. "... I thought I'd never see you again.." and before you could even reply, Deuce came up and tightly hugged you too. "... you didn't say bye to anyone" he mumbled as he pulled back and stared at you with teary eyes.
So, after a whole lot of reunions, the boys explained that they didn't know how they got there, or how to get back, so obviously they're allowed to stay with you.
Ace Trappola
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He's definitely gonna make fun of your decor, your clothes, basically anything... even though hes gonna steal your T-shirts even after they all got their own clothes
If you're not constantly going out with friends or talking to them he's gonna bully you about being a loser, however if you are constantly talking to friends, he's gonna complain that you're not giving them enough attention and you're being a bad host (even though he really only means that he wants more attention)
Deuce Spade
He won't automatically think about getting a job, but if he hears that you're struggling with paying for all of them then he'll find some kind of job and complain about it 24/7, especially because it'll probably be in customer service due to his age and having no records of anything
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Unlike Ace, Deuce automatically starts to help you with funds, he'll probably find a customer service job, maybe even two
Jack Howl
He'll probably get a good reputation with your neighbors, always offering them any help, and usually being gifted something, whether it be muffins or just money
I think that he would kinda just stay home mostly, really only going out with you where he can follow you like a lost puppy (only because he doesn't know this world like you!)
also-he totally takes note of what decor, music, and clothes you like even more now, so that he has ideas for a potential gift and or way to bond with you
Epel Felmier
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So... he kinda had to be... barricaded in a way, until you could find a proper hat to cover his ears, he couldn't leave... because some preteen will bark at him
Once he can leave the house though, he immediately gets a job... and spends a bit of the money on a gym membership (also, if you go to the gym he is hyped, he's following you around it the whole time totally not trying to show off his strength)
I think he'd honestly get a job at a gym, maybe a personal trainer even
He basically took up the chore of grocery shopping, like he meal preps and all, it's mainly just veggies and meat that he buys
Sebek Zigvolt
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He's thrilled to finally be away from Vil and Rook, now he can actually be himself! His stupid dirty jokes and overall roughness has definitely amped up now that he knows Vil won't find out
He couldn't really find a job due to having no proof that he wasn't a girl, but like Deuce he takes up jobs from your neighbors, getting some cash here and there
He also usually goes on grocery trips with Jack, with Jack getting healthy food, and Epel begging him to get at least a few junk food items, plus he's great at picking out what fruit and veggies are the best
Ortho Shroud
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Hes definitely having a hard time with the whole... all humans... no magic thing, to the point that he kept accidentally using his magic in public and got house arrest by you, leaving Ortho to make sure he didn't leave
He's still allowed to go out with supervision though, and anytime you go out to town with him he basically acts as a body guard, glaring at anyone would date approach you
He was given the task of cooking, because he obviously had to learn so he didn't have to eat Lilia's cooking, so him and Jack discuss meek plans for the week/month
He's also like a guard dog when he's outside just in the yard, he's keeping coyotes away, Bobcats, bears, any predator, he's keeping it away with no doubt
Grim
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Much like Jack, he couldn't leave the house due to being a robot, technically he could leave and would just get some weird glances for having a "cosplay" on, but he decided to stay back and keep Grim company... and watch Sebek
Whenever he gets bored he'll rummage through the house and find old objects that you clearly don't use anymore... and somehow end up upgrading any technology in this house?? like you came home and suddenly your laptop had the power of a damn PC
He'll also go around when he's bored and clean up for you, putting things away, sweeping, mopping, everything, he's very considerate!
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now.... Grim obviously can't leave, he has fire ears! So he's pretty pouty, but after you got him a few toys and a tablet (iPad baby I'm sorey), he calmed down, but he's still not happy!
There are a few acres of forest nearby, so sometimes he'll sneak out there with Ortho to get some outdoors time, but he's almost gotten caught a few times, each time getting scolded by you or Jack
He's secretly very happy to be able to sleep on top of his henchmen again, hes always clinging onto you now, after having the biggest scare of the one person he considered "family" randomly disappearing and leaving him all alone!
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vent-stink · 1 day
Text
When Seonghwa got mad at y/n
a/n: I'm sorry I've been neglecting you all! Here's my apology angst c/w: angst, hurt/comfort pairings: owner!Seonghwa x cat hybrid!reader, cat hybrid!san x reader w/c: 1.6k
Y/n didn't realize Seonghwa was in a bad mood.
At this point, even though she felt bad, it was routine of him to break up with partners because they didn't like her. He'd come home sad, and y/n would cuddle his sorrows away.
This time was different.
This time, Seonghwa came home with a sad aura, but clenched fists. No, he was frustrated, so frustrated. Why were people so closed minded? Hybrids have been a part of society for so long and even if not everyone cares for their hybrids the same way, the extent of his care had been normalized enough by now, he thought. Yet he hadn't met anyone who could accept it.
Y/n wasn't his girlfriend; he didn't want her to be nor did she want to be. He loves her and takes care of her. Sure, hybrids could be in relationships with their owners or with other people, but that just wasn't their relationship. Why was that so hard to understand?
He wasn't mad at y/n, he could never truly be mad at y/n, but in that moment he was just so frustrated. It was moment of weakness, but he seriously resented her, if only for a minute.
But it was in that minute that she crawled over to him, unapologetic smile adorning her face (because she had nothing to feel bad for, he had made sure to reassure her every time before), as she asked for his attention, hands pawing at his trousers.
"Stop it. Move, y/n." His voice was stern and cold and she felt her hair stand on end. "Daddy? Are you okay-?"
Hearing her voice, her sultry, sweet, beautiful voice, he snapped, "GET OFF, Y/N. GET OFF." She flinched away from him, looking at him a little scared, "D-daddy‐?" "I'M SO TIRED OF THIS, Y/N. YOU'RE ALWAYS- YOU'RE ALWAYS THERE. YOU CAN NEVER LEAVE ME ALONE!"
He was yelling, really yelling. No one had ever spoken to y/n like that before, especially not Seonghwa. Sure, he'd scolded her, but he'd never so much as punished her let alone raised his voice like this.
She trembled as he yelled at her, curled up into a ball as she was frozen in fear, waiting for him to finish. "It's like ever since I adopted you, I haven't been able to think of anything but you. I can't be selfish. I can't enjoy myself or be loved for a single fucking second-"
"HYUNG!" San yelled, coming down to hug y/n and shield her from Seonghwa. She was shaking, tears running down her face as she whimpered, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
Honestly, Seonghwa had yelled at San like this before, and Y/n was spoiled so he initially had been enjoying her get a little scared. It was only natural for a harsher scolding at least once or twice... but this felt too harsh. San stopped feeling smug very quickly as he came down to comfort their princess.
San's presence snapped Seonghwa out of his rage, allowing him to actually see how y/n was reacting to his anger. He broke his own heart knowing that he made her look like this, trembling with tears falling down her face, terrified noises leaving her. Oh my god, what was I thinking?
"Y/n, I-" he reached out to her but she wailed, running to San's room and slamming the door shut behind her and burying herself in his sheets.
Seonghwa watched her run and then looked at San helplessly, only to be met with San's angry hiss as the feline followed after his mate to cuddle her as she cried.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
Seonghwa could still feel his emotions hot in his blood, so he sighed, sitting on his recliner as he waited for his heart to settle.
He didn't realize how badly he had fucked up until he'd gone back to his room. Y/n hadn't come to sleep. She'd always always slept with him in his bed at night. She'd never been able to sleep at night without her owner.
Yet, right now, as he laid awake, waiting for her to crawl into his arms and tuck herself under his chin, it was almost 1am, and his arms were empty.
He hadn't realized how used to her he'd gotten. He felt cold, even with his blanket tucked up to his chin, body crunched into a ball, he felt like his body was trembling. Now he couldn't sleep without her.
Obviously, he couldn't stand to be like this. He got out of his bed and went to San's room, knocking lightly on the door. He thought y/n might be awake. He thought there'd be no way that she could sleep without him.
But there was no answer. "Y/n?" he called softly. Nothing. "San?" A grunt.
Seonghwa opened the door a peek and first saw San's piercing glare. It wasn't the first time he'd been on the receiving end of it, San got pissy with him all the time, but this was the first time it was over someone else. The next thing he saw was his little kitten wrapped in his big kitten's arms, head tucked into his chest as her chest raised and fell in a steady rhythm.
She was asleep.
"She cried until she was so exhausted she couldn't stay awake anymore," San said quietly to not wake her up. Seonghwa felt his heart lurch harder than it ever had before. "I'm not giving her to you, if that's what you're here for."
"No... I don't want to wake her," Seonghwa whispered, "I just can't... I couldn't sleep." San didn't reply. He wasn't in the mood to give Seonghwa consoling words. He'd used them all on y/n already.
Both of his hybrids were upset at him, rightfully so. He sighed, sitting in San's chair that faced the bed. San eyed him before letting out a sigh and cuddling farther into y/n to sleep.
Seonghwa just watched them until he felt his eyes droop and sleep overtook him.
He woke up to a sniffle. It started him awake. The first heartbreaking thing he saw was y/n's face scrunched up in a sob, fresh tears falling down her face.
"Y/n-ah," he croaked, not even letting himself fully wake up before he was on his knees in front of her, "I'm so sorry... I didn't mean it! I..."
"I- I'm sorry... I made daddy's life so hard. You haven't been able to be happy since I'm here-" "NO!" he exclaimed loudly, making San jolt awake, but the big cat went ignored, "I didn't mean it. Daddy was just upset. I was just sad, I didn't mean to say those things. I didn't mean a single word."
She didn't believe him and Seonghwa could tell as she covered her face, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry they don't like me. You never should have brought me here. I'm so terrible."
"Y/nnie, please," he choked, "I'm so sorry baby. I was feeling sad because my partner left me... but I don't need anyone. I only need you and Sannie, my love. I- Everyday, you make me feel so loved, more loved than I have ever felt from even my own mother..."
Y/n sniffed, looking at him properly, but wearily.
"I didn't mean a single thing I said. It was all in anger. Like- like when Sannie says he's mad at you and won't share his clothes, but he still shares them anyway...," he reasoned desperately.
"You should send me away...," she cried quietly. Seonghwa finally broke completely, letting out a sob, bowing his face to the ground, "You are my most important girl in the world, y/n-ah." His voice was cracking and his pain was agonizing, extremely evident from his voice, "No one loves me more than you, and I can't live without you. I can't sleep without you in my arms. Even if you wanted to leave me, I am the one that's selfish. I want to hold you in my arms and never let you go. I want you to get so mad at me for yelling at you. I'll make it up to you forever. I'll buy you so many gifts and treats. I just- I need you to know that I love you so much."
She sniffed, getting out of the bed to kneel in front of him as well. When he heard her change positions, Seonghwa looked up to see her looking at him with teary eyes. A wail escaped her throat as she slipped herself into his arms, sobbing into the fabric of his t-shirt.
His arms wrapped around her so tight she would have suffocated if she was thinking about it. He wasn't loud, but his tears slipped down his face and onto her hair, "No one matters to me more than you. You're my baby. My sweet, y/nnie. I'm sorry, I got upset, but I won't do it again." "I th-thought you d-didn-n't want m-me, any-nymore!" she hiccupped between sobs.
"No my princess. Even if I'm only with you for the rest of my life and everyone else leaves, I'll be happy." San wanted to protest, but he didn't because he was too tired and because he knew y/n needed reassurance more than he needed to reaffirm his existence in the house. She was soft. He'd live.
"I'm sorry, daddy," she whimpered. Seonghwa pulled away to cup her face and press soft kisses all over her face. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I meant it when I told you that you and San are a part of me. No one is more important than us. We're a family, okay? You're my family."
Y/n sniffed and hugged him so tight, nodding into his chest. "You promise?" "Mhmm," Seonghwa hummed, "I'll never let you think otherwise again. Even if daddy gets mad at you again, I promise I will never make you think for a second that you belong anywhere else, but here with me."
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