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#that she would copy everything he did?
noblesixjm04 · 3 months
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I can't get this out of my head. It's just something that ive had rattling around. If this doesn't make much sense I'm sorry lol but.
Do you ever think about if the Spartan ii's ever met one of those siblings without realizing it?
Like. John meeting a young female marine. She's quick witted and wicked smart. There is almost nothing she will back down from. At least not until she gets a "win." She will never leave one of her teammates behind. She's also known among her friends for her dry sense of humor.
One day she runs into John whiles he's out of armor. She never realizes that he's the Master Chief as they stare at one another. Blue eyes look into blue. The roots of her hair are blonde. Contrasted against a dark brown. They share the same smattering of freckles. Dusted along their face and down to their arms. Petering out along the backs of their hands.
And when she smiles there's a gap in her front teeth. (One tooth is chipped from a hard won game of King of the Hill.) She jokes that they match.
Apparently her brother had to. Her parents told her about him. How he had passed a few years before she was born. Her mother told her about her and her brothers shared a constellation of freckles.
Maybe Kelly runs into a pair of twin engineers. One is a girl. The other a boy. The girl has her hair cropped short. It's faded green. The boy has long hair. Held back in a tight braid. It's blue.
They strike up a conversation with Kelly one day. Mostly out of boredom. At one point talking about how they had been on their schools track team. Twin Terrors they had been called. They were the fastest in the entirety of their schools career.
They are the only two out of the group of engineers and scientists that could match her humor.
Kelly never sees them again after that. But she thinks about them often enough. About how they all shared the same accented voice.
About the day they all raced.
She won. Of course. But something about it made her feel like she was missing something. She matched it to the same feeling to her younger years with the rest of the ii's on Reach. On some of the few days they had true fun.
Linda was sent to therapy. Well. Not really sent. It was... Suggested. That she go.
Linda did. This time. For the first time. The last time.
She met an older man. Her elder by about three or four years. With the same red hair, that has streaks of white at the temples, and piercing green eyes.
Those eyes that looked at her like she does down the snipers scope. Those eyes that seemed to know her own.
She could see them widen. Hear the hitch on his breath as they flicker to a photograph and then back to her.
He...
Maybe she had seen him in passing once. Despite him never having been on this ship before.
He has been the one to pull the trigger.
"I don't think I'm the right match for you." His voice rumbled in a familiar way.
When she left. Linda tried to stop thinking about the worn, frames photo on his desk. The one with a boy. About eight or nine. With a shock of bright red hair. He held an archery trophy in one hand. In his other. The hand of a little girl. Close to five. With that same shock of red hair and green eyes that seemed to see you even through the cameras lense.
Fred meets a medic after a nasty injury. The Odst's and Marines in his company joke that he has as getting the best medic around.
He was a young man. Kind and deeply empathetic.
Those same Marines also joked about how the two of them could be siblings in a different life. With how they shared the same sloped nose and sharp jaw. The same, soft manner of speaking.
"Seriously Lieutenant. Just give the Doc the same hair cut. Could fool me that's for sure."
The medic said that he did have a brother. One that he has never met. That he had passed away a few months before he had been born .
But he and his parents visited his grave every year on his brother's birthday. And that this was the first year that he wouldn't be able to.
"He's be turning thirty three today." The medic had just finished Fred's stitches.
"Oh." Fred spoke it before it could be stopped.
"Oh what?" The medic had asked.
"I turned thirty three today." It was one of the few things he remembered. Something he rarely thought about. Because something around it had made his heart hurt.
"Here then. Happy birthday." The medic handed Fred a chocolate granola bar.
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getosugurusbangs · 4 months
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every day i thank god that my mom is supportive of my design headcanons for characters because if i had to answer her questioning me about why i do it, i’d probably lose it
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revedetendresse · 2 years
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mainfaggot · 4 months
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i had a really mediocre whipped coffee today and it pains me like what the fuck cant my coffees at least be good
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saetoru · 9 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。FAMILY SECRETS — GOJO SATORU.
contents. fem! + mom! reader, reader is referred to as “mommy” and “wife,” girl dad toru <3, family shenanigans in the grocery store that are unfortunately inescapable when your husband is gojo satoru
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“ok,” you nod, looking over your grocery list. “i think that’s everything—”
“mommy, can we please get this,” your daughter looks up at you pleadingly, tugging at your sleeve as she holds a bag of candy—she has satoru’s eyes, wide and blue and so easy to give into. you look at her for a moment before pursing your lips.
“no, satoru. we can’t get this bag of candy.” you turn to the devil himself, glaring at him as he whistles innocently.
“what’re you lookin’ at me for, sweetheart? our little peanut here wants—”
“satoru.”
“fine,” he deflates. you pinch your nose as you sigh.
satoru, in his thirty plus years of life, has surprisingly never had a cavity for how much sugar he consumes. he’s good at taking care of himself, he argues, there’s no chance he’d ever get a cavity. that is, until recently. he visits the dentist and has not one, but two cavities—you think this is a rather alarming sign that he needs to cut back on the sweets, so you take matters into your own hands.
and, well….he’s not handling it very brightly.
“you thought i’d cave just because you tricked our daughter into asking?” you raise a brow, making him huff as he pouts.
“what kind of heartless soul could say no to those eyes?” he asks in disbelief, waving a hand at the small carbon copy of your husband as she blinks up at you, “i mean look at her! she doesn’t deserve the word no.”
“she definitely needs the word no so she doesn’t end up spoiled like you. and i’ve had plenty of practice,” you shoot blandly, “i’ve said no to your eyes all these years haven’t i?”
“even crazier,” he mutters, “i have the most adorable eyes, how could you say no?”
“it’s pretty easy if you ask me,” you shrug.
most people tend to call satoru arrogant—humble is not usually used in the same sentence as gojo satoru. evidently, they’ve never watched him interact with you before—you always find a way to humble him. he’s starting to think he’s the butt of every joke in his own marriage.
“please, baby?” he pouts deeper, “i’ve been good! i floss!”
“no.”
“what if i fold the laundry for a month?” he bats his lashes.
that’s tempting, you have to admit. folding laundry is a very boring job, you’re more than happy to hand it over to satoru for a bag of candy that barely dents your wallet. but then you find your resolve again, crossing your arms as you stare at him unimpressed.
“no, satoru.”
“two months?”
“nope.”
“did you only marry me for my looks?” he asks in disbelief, “because there’s not one ounce of love in that heart of yours.”
“this is for your own good, satoru,” you say firmly, “you had two cavities. how much sugar have you been consuming lately? and don’t think i don’t notice you skipping meals when you’re busy—a chocolate bar does not replace lunch.”
you’re glaring at him, drilling him for his health choices that are not his fault—he’s a busy guy, and he can’t help that a chocolate bar on his way to a mission is all he can squeeze in sometimes. maybe a protein bar would be a better option, but they’re not as tasty, and satoru thinks he deserves to be happy. and then, from the end of the aisle, you hear a few snickers coming from passerby’s. he pouts deeper at the thought of being laughed at as he gets scolded by his wife in the middle of the breakfast aisle.
“what’s the point of living if you’re gonna be miserable?” he groans, “we might as well just start going to bed at nine pm too, while we’re at it. and—”
“that’s actually a lovely idea,” you hum thoughtfully, “you certainly could use the sleep, couldn’t you?”
he glares at you petulantly, sulking as you grab the bag from your daughter’s and put it on the shelf—it’s not the right place, but taking a trip to the candy aisle to place it where it belongs is only venturing deeper into the lion’s den. you’re not letting satoru have more options to choose from.
“you seein’ this, angel?” he turns to your daughter, “you see how mean mommy is? she’s not letting us have candy. make sure you remember that when i ask you who’s your favorite again.”
you roll your eyes, snorting. satoru asks her playfully one night who the favorite parent is—it’s a meaningless question, meant to be a joke and nothing else. you’re sure he expects her to say both—but he gets his feelings severely hurt when she giggles and points to you, staring in disbelief as you grin in victory and kiss her cheeks. you even rub salt on the wound when you mumble she’s your favorite baby too.
he’s starting to really think he’s a victim in his own household.
“but mommy gives me candy,” she tilts her head in confusion.
oh no. she’s not supposed to say that—she promised not to say that. why can’t children ever keep a filter on their words? and why can’t they keep their promises?
almost like in slow motion, both of your eyes widen. satoru pauses. you start to sweat. he turns to face you slowly, in abject disbelief.
“what?” you laugh nervously, “no i don’t! we don’t have any candy at home—”
“she keeps it in her drawer!” your daughter adds, as if she wants to see your downfall.
you love your daughter, you really do—but sometimes you think motherhood is a punishment for whatever sin it is that you’ve committed in your previous life. satoru crosses his arms and taps his foot.
“what happened to we’ll all give up sweets together so you’re not alone, toru,” he mocks your voice, squinting at you accusingly. “so we’re a family of liars now?”
“toru, listen—”
“i trusted you.”
“baby—”
“what happened to our wedding vows? what happened to in sickness and in death? a little cavity is enough to change all that? i’m scared to think what you’d do if i lost an arm.”
“well, you’re not the strongest for nothing,” you point out, chuckling nervously, “so we have nothing to worry about there.”
“i can’t believe you,” he spits, turning away from you with crossed arms and a quiet hmph.
“toru, you can’t expect us all to give up sugar just because you can’t stop making poor health choices,” you argue exasperatedly.
so what if you secretly enjoy a kitkat here and there? you deserve it for dealing with not one, but two children at home every single day—sometimes three if shoko comes over, her lifestyle choices aren’t any better. satoru should let you enjoy a piece of candy or two until he fixes his terrible habits that could very well set a terrible example for your very young and impressionable daughter.
“well, i have adult money of my own,” satoru huffs, “and as an adult, i’ll be purchasing my own candy to hide in my own drawer that i won’t share with you since we’re now apparently a family that doesn’t think sharing is caring.”
“i don’t know if i’m raising one child or two,” you sigh tiredly, rubbing a hand over your face.
satoru grabs the bag of candy off the shelf, promptly placing it in the cart before walking off ahead of you as he pushes it. your daughter grabs your hand and smiles, tugging you along.
“c’mon mommy,” she says brightly, “you said we can go to the park!”
—————— BONUS ——————
“are you serious, satoru?” you ask incredulously, watching as he comes back to sit on the other end of the bench, ice cream cone in hand.
he didn’t even bring you one—what an asshole.
“oh sorry,” he shrugs, “i figured you and our daughter were planning on getting ice cream on your own without me. since, you know, apparently you guys love to have lots of things without me.”
“you’re being so dramatic—”
“i want ice cream too!” you hear a small voice call from the distance, making you turn to your daughter as she sprints over to you from the playground, eyeing the cone in satoru’s hand.
“you heard her,” he drawls, licking at his strawberry ice cream mockingly, “why don’t you go buy her a secret cone. i won’t look.”
being a single mom of two is a full time job, you think, you didn’t sign up for this.
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guess who has two cavities ?? a certain brother of mine. guess who’s entire household has to give up sweets now for their brother’s inability to have proper dental hygiene ?? if you guessed me, you might just be psychic :O
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chrisevansonly · 4 months
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𝐓𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬
𝐝𝐚𝐝!𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: there is a new little norris in town, and lando is absolutely smitten
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mentions of childbirth, fluffy dad lando!
𝐚/𝐧: once again i’m sorry for taking so long and for this being shitty and small, i hope you enjoy regardless lol <3
🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸
The house was quiet, the only sound that could be heard was suits playing softy on the tv, Lando had run out to grab a few things for dinner, of course picking up some home cooked meals for the two of you to enjoy over the next few weeks.
Sleeping soundly on your chest was 3 day old baby Poppy Norris, all 6 pounds of her, swaddled up in a quadrant blanket, a gift from Ria a few weeks ago, more of a gag of course but the blanket itself was so fuzzy: perfect for the newborn baby girl.
Your hands held her gently to your chest as you were propped up in the corner of the couch, last night Lando had done the night shift with Poppy which had allowed you to get an entire nights sleep, something you were so grateful for.
The birth experience for you had been pretty straight forward, but it had left you sore and exhausted, Lando doing his absolute best to help in any way he could, no matter what.
After a little while, the front door closed softly, your husband peaking into the living room, a smile on his face as he saw the two of you cuddled up together
“Hi my angels”
“Hi my love, how was your outing?” you responded softly, sending him a smile back
“It was good, mum and dad say hi, they’re gonna stop by tomorrow if that’s alright?”
You nodded, looking down when Poppy made a noise
“Oh did you hear your daddy’s voice? You wanna take her baby, i’ll put the food away?”
Lando’s eyes lit up, he was so enamoured with his little angel, the second he laid eyes on her he knew he would do anything and everything to keep her happy and protected as long as he’d be around.
She was his everything.
He was quick to come over, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips before gently lifting the little baby from your chest, cradling her head gently before settling her into his arms, grabbing the blanket from you to cover her when you got up.
“My pretty pretty girl..” He said softly, kissing her cheeks gently
“Aww so happy to be in daddy’s arms…” you cooed, watching as her eyes blinked up at Lando
She was his carbon copy, from his eyes to his nose, the two of them were twins and you knew she’d inherit his beautiful curls too.
“Will she need to be fed soon?”
After kissing her cheek softly you placed a hand on his back, rubbing up and down gently
“She might, I’ve made a bottle for her it’s in the fridge”
It made feedings easier when you’d decided to breastfeed and bottle feed, Lando loving having his skin on skin time with her when she ate, her fingers would grasp onto his hand tightly, eyes always watching his.
“Perfect, you know you could just leave the food and I’ll do it after?”
Quick to shake your head you kissed him gently
“I don’t mind my love, I feel nice and rested today, thank you for last night…go enjoy some cuddles”
Lando wouldn’t argue with that, doing exactly as he was told, only this time settling down in the rocking chair by the fireplace. Taking one last peak at the two of them you couldn’t help but take a few photos of them. Lando beginning to hum softly to her.
There was no better feeling than this right now, having your perfect little family and your beautiful home, life couldn’t get any better…
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obsessedwithceleste · 2 months
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Fighting Fate (It’s a losing battle)
Theodore Nott x gn!reader
Inspired by, and dedicated to @musingsofahufflepuff
Summary: soulmate!au in which everyone sees in black and white until they meet their soulmate. Bold of fate to assume it can tell you what to do.
word count: 3.1k
©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.
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Ever since your first day at Hogwarts, you’d been told that you were lucky. A one in a million chance. Exceptional. Because as soon as you’d been sorted, and the sorting hat had been lifted up off of your head, your eyes had met his, and the world had burst into color.
It had been wildly disorientating at first- you almost fainted from the visual overload as the banners over each section of students burst into bright color. As you went to take your seat, you got strange looks from several students, but you never felt his eyes leave you.
You’d always thought it was rubbish. Even at the ripe old age of eleven. Your mother had first explained the idea of soulmates to you as a bedtime story. You remember her explaining how everything looked bland and colorless now because you hadn’t met your soulmate yet. But once you did, the world would come to life.
“When will I meet my soulmate?” You’d asked.
“Well, that’s the catch isn’t it? It’s different for everyone. Some meet their soulmate very young. At school even. But some, some will never meet their soulmate. They can be anywhere in the world, fate doesn’t discriminate.”
You’d scrunched your little nose up in distaste.
“That’s stupid. Why do I have to listen to fate?”
Your mother had only laughed, tucking you in and kissing your forehead goodnight. But the sentiment had remained as you grew up. How could someone really just be meant for you? Ridiculous.
Theo had known that you were going to be his soulmate before fate did. He’d watched silently from his seat on the train as you boarded, a nervous grin on your face as you waved goodbye to your family. You were perfect, and he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. At least until Mattheo swatted his arm.
“What’re you staring at, mate?” He’d asked loudly, gaining the attention of the other boys in the carriage.
“See them, there?” Theo asked, pointing to where you were boarding. “That’s going to be my soulmate.” He’d announced proudly.
“Yeah, okay mate,” the other boys had laughed, quickly moving on to the next topic.
But Theo didn’t take his eyes off of you until you disappeared through the train doors and off into some unknown compartment.
The next time he saw you was at the sorting ceremony. He watched as you confidently made your way up to the front, the smile never leaving your face as McGonagall lowered the hat onto your head. It only took a few moments of deliberation before the hat was being lifted off of your head and Theo’s eyes met yours.
It was like the wind was taken out of him as the room sprung to life, colors swirling around his vision as his eyes raced around the room in awe.
By the end of the night, all of Theo’s friends had been sorted into Slytherin with him. Mattheo, Enzo, Draco, Blaise. Even Crabbe and Goyle.
“I was right on the train. About them being my soulmate,” he’d announced proudly, pointing out different objects and describing the different colors to his friends who wondered in amazement.
You on the other hand, didn’t speak a word of it to anyone until you accidentally let it slip to your mother over break that you could see the pretty colored ornaments strung up on the tree.
She’d been thrilled of course, wanting to know every detail about this soulmate of yours. What did he look like? What house was he? Had the two of you spoken.
You answered each question with less enthusiasm than the one prior, and eventually she got the point and stopped asking.
As soon as the news slipped that Theodore Nott, a child of the sacred twenty-eight, and son of Tiberius Nott no less, could see in color however, it didn’t take long for people to start noticing you. Telling you how lucky you were to have found your soulmate. To be able to see color. As if you wanted a soulmate at eleven years old.
The first few years it was easy to avoid. Being only eleven or twelve, Theo was content admiring you from a far. Third year was when the boy finally got the courage to really try and talk to you for the first time. Sure he’d said hi a few times over the past couple years, but nothing you’d found particularly note worthy. Especially not for someone who was supposedly your soulmate.
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“Are you any good at charms?” A voice asks, startling you as you look up from the essay you had been finishing up in the court yard. It was a warm, cloudy day, with only a light breeze, so you’d thought it would be the perfect day to take your studies outside.
You stare up in surprise at the brunette boy in front of you, watching silently as he takes a seat across from you.
In the past, you'd played the avoiding game, quickly scurrying off if you saw the boy or his friends approaching. This year, you hadn't been taking the same precautions, and it seemed Theodore was taking full advantage.
“I’m alright,” you reply hesitantly.
That was a lie. Charms was your best subject, but you were hoping the boy might go away. He didn’t.
"I know that you're top of the class," he responds, staring intently at you with a sly smirk.
That afternoon you begrudgingly helped Theodore with his charms homework, and he happily helped you with your DADA essay. There wasn’t a whole lot of interaction between the two of you, but he wasn’t horrible you supposed. At least he had brain cells to rub together.
After that he kept popping up sporadically throughout your third year.
At quidditch tryouts he'd insisted on partnering with you for several of the drills. You both were offered a place on the team. In the Great Hall he'd seek you out to ask about the homework assignment he'd missed after skiving off of class with Mattheo. The fact that you gave him your notes each time meant nothing. Obviously. And every so often, between the shelves of books in the library, you'd see a flash of soft brown hair, and intense eyes gazing at you before they disappeared as if you were imagining it.
With each increasing encounter, the both of you made idle conversation as you kept the boy at an arms length. It was nothing personal really. In fact the more you thought about it, he seemed perfectly alright. But something in your stubborn thirteen year old self just wanted to stick it to fate. So you continued to ice the boy out.
Theodore however, was nothing if not determined. He knew from the moment he saw you that he was meant to be yours, and he’d be damned if he let you slip through his fingers. Thirteen year old Theodore was a stubborn bastard and he knew he was willing to play the long game.
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Things grew a bit more complicated in fourth year when you became friends with some of the Slytherin crowd.
It had been an accident really. You’d been reading down by the Black Lake when Daphne Greengrass had stumbled upon you, followed closely by Pansy Parkinson and Lorenzo Berkshire.
“Oh!” she’d said in delight, seeing the book in your hands, “I love that book!”
The two of you ended up talking enthusiastically about the novel for almost an entire hour with Pansy and Enzo butting in every so often to add their thoughts.
“Wait, you’re Theodore’s soulmate aren’t you?” Enzo asks, eventually recognizing you.
You eye the boy cautiously as you nod slowly, suddenly feeling self conscious.
Pansy just wrinkles her nose.
“Sorry you got stuck with such a tosser.” She says.
The four of you are quiet for a moment before your laughter breaks the silence, the other three following shortly after.
After that, you’re integrated into their little group seamlessly. You’d always been a bit of a loner. Sure people would wander up to you often enough to chatter about what it was like to see colors, but that was really all people wanted to know about you. Like it was some trivial party trick.
It was nice having your own friends to study with and wander about Hogsmeade with on the weekends. It was nice to have people who liked being around you simply for being you. Not because some magical force had decided to bind you to a whole other human and grant you the ability to see color.
It didn’t take long for Theo to notice you hanging about more frequently. How could he not? You were so pretty. So smart and witty. So perfect. He was just so happy to have you around more often. Even if it wasn’t to spend time with him specifically.
He reveled in any little morsel of information that he could scrape up from your friends. Your favorite color, your favorite sweets at Honeydukes, your class schedule. Theo was willing to admit the last one was a bit weird, but he was really just hungry to learn anything he could about his elusive soulmate.
Soon enough, it didn’t become unusual for Theodore and Mattheo to join the four of you on your little excursions. Popping up at the Black Lake, or meeting up with you at the Three Broomsticks. He was just always there. As if he was making a point of it. And begrudgingly you began to let him in.
A friend of your friends was okay you thought. Wouldn’t hurt to get to know him a bit. That wasn’t crossing any lines.
For Theo however, this was huge. He was finally getting somewhere. Even if you weren’t ready for any sort of romantic relationship, he was going to be the best damn friend you’d ever had.
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By fifth year, there was simply no denying it. Theodore Nott was your best friend. You weren’t really sure how it had happened. The two of you just fit so well together. He had truly wormed his way into your life.
It had started with the study sessions.
"Remember when you helped me with charms in third year?" He'd asked. "I got top marks on that assignment."
As those became more frequent, it had turned into afternoons by the lake with both of you deep in your own novels, but sharing the comfortable silence.
Then it had morphed into weekends at Hogsmeade. Your friends thought they were being subtle when they consistently slipped away, leaving you and Theo to wander about the village. You couldn't find it in yourself to mind though.
You’d tried to keep him at an arms length. You really had. But Enzo couldn’t make you laugh as hard as you did with Theo. And Daphne just wasn’t the intellectual match that Theo was. And Pansy always made sure you let loose sure, but being around Theo was just- freeing.
You still weren’t sold on the whole soulmate thing though. Sure Theo was great. Perfect even. But you just couldn’t shake the icky feeling of blindly trusting fate to decide your life.
Then it happened. No one was expecting it. Especially not Pansy. But you and Pansy and Draco and Theo had all been working late on a potions assignment before dinner, and on your way back up from the dungeons, Pansy ran smack into a certain platinum haired Ravenclaw. You’d later find out that her name was Luna Lovegood. As soon as their eyes met, Pansy stumbled, leaning into you for support. You already knew what was happening as her eyes darted around wildly.
“Oh. I suppose we’re soulmates then aren’t we?” The girl said, a dreamy look overtaking her.
It all seemed too easy for them after that. It was like a flip had switched and the two were just mad for each other. A picture perfect example of what soulmates should be.
You found it to be slightly horrifying how blindly trusting fate could severely change a person and their relationship with an essential stranger.
Theo however, couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy. He had what? Almost five whole years on Pansy, and was lucky to get a friendly hug out of his soulmate. Yet Pansy and Luna were inseparable after only a few short weeks.
Not that Theo thought he was entitled to your affection necessarily. But it would be nice if you’d at least acknowledge the bond you two shared he thought.
“Why don’t you believe in soulmates?” Daphne asks one night.
It was one of those rare nights where it was only you, Daphne, Pansy, and Enzo huddled together wrapped in thick, warm blankets inside Daphne and Pansy’s dorm room. Salazar knows where Millicent was off spending her night. A bottle of shared fire whisky sat between you and packs of chocolate frogs littered the floor.
You blink in surprise at your friend’s question. You didn’t talk about soulmate stuff much.
“I do believe in them,” you say with a simple shrug.
“Yeah but you don’t really believe in them, ya know? Why?” She pushes.
You pause again, glancing at Pansy who was looking back at you intently.
“I don’t know. I guess I just don’t like the idea of someone deciding to be with me, just because they’re supposed to.” You say finally.
“I suppose I know what you mean.” Pansy murmurs after a moment.
You look at the girl in surprise and can tell the other two are shocked as well.
“Don’t get me wrong. I adore Luna. Really. I always tell her that I’m so glad that fate put us together. But then sometimes I wonder. If it weren’t for fate, would I have even given her a second glance that day I bumped into her in the corridor?”
There’s a silent lull as your group mulls over Pansy’s words before slowly drifting off to a new topic.
In another dorm, not so far off, Theo lay on his bed staring blankly up at the ceiling.
“Think they’ll come around soon?” Mattheo asks, sensing his roommate’s building tension.
“I dunno. But I’ll wait,” he replies, closing his eyes and letting images of you flood his mind. “They’re worth it.”
That night as you’re leaving to return to your dorm, Enzo catches your arm, pulling you off to the side.
“You can never tell Theo that I told you this, but the first time I met Theo, we were on the train waiting to leave for Hogwarts and he pointed out the window to a someone and said ‘they’re going to be my soulmate’. Then, at the sorting ceremony he got all dizzy all the sudden, and when we got to the common room, he said that he’d been right about who his soulmate would be. You. Just thought you should know.”
And with that, he’s gone.
It’s after that that you really begin to see Theo. You’d never really given him a fighting chance. But now, you kind of wanted to.
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It’s the beginning of sixth year when Theo finally notices the shift. Notices you actually seeking him out on purpose, not flinching away when your hands brush, eyes hovering on his lips a bit too long for it to be accidental. And to say that he is ecstatic.
Meanwhile you were silently kicking yourself for taking so long to get over your petty bullshit with fate. Sure you still didn’t love the idea of it all, but after spending enough time with Theo, you could really, truly see the appeal.
After that night in fifth year, you began noticing how Theodore was one of the only students who could keep up with your academic prowess. He could always sense when you were tired, or stressed, or simply in a mood, and always did his best to subtly cheer you up. He was always there. Even after all the years you had put him through the wringer, he remained by your side. And that’s what really convinced you.
It’s also what landed you here, at the top of the astronomy tower, with your head in Theodore’s lap as his fingers raked gently through your hair.
It had become a usual meeting spot for the both of you. Theo had brought you up here a week into the school year starting. It was his safe place. His getaway when everything got to be too much, or when he just needed space to think. When those words had left his mouth you had melted. He trusted you. You had meant so much to him for so long, and you couldn't be bothered to give him the time of day.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble, eyes gazing out at the swirling navy sky that seemed to stretch on forever.
“For what, amore?”
“Dunno. Making you feel like you weren’t good enough, or makin you feel like a bad soulmate.”
Theo looks down at you, and you meet his steady gaze.
“I knew I was good enough, amore. We wouldn’t be soulmates if we weren’t perfect for each other.” He replies.
You perk up at this. “You think I’m perfect?” You ask, a dopey smile appearing on your face.
Theo just rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he laughs. He'd grown used to your antics. Just another piece of you that he'd grown fond of.
“I said that we’re perfect together. But you’re perfect too I suppose.”
It hadn’t taken nearly as long as you had expected to reach this point. It seemed that Theo had just been waiting for the word to switch on boyfriend mode. All it took was one spontaneous, heated make out session in his dorm room, and you had the boy wrapped around your finger. (He already had been for years, but you didn’t need to know that.)
“Alright. Wrap it up love birds. You better be fully clothed,” Pansy calls, head peeping up from the top of the staircase leading up to the tower. “You two have been up here for hours, and you can’t have them all to yourself Theodore. They were our friend first.”
“Yeah! Time’s up lover boy!” You hear Enzo call.
Theo groans, head falling back as he rises lazily, offering you a hand up.
“I waited five years for this, can’t you guys let me have my moment?” He calls back.
“No!” The chorus replies.
With a laugh, you grab onto Theo’s hand, tugging him towards the stairs.
“C’mon. If we get Mattheo and Enzo drunk enough, they won’t notice if I spend the night,” you say with a cheeky wink.
“I heard that!” Enzo’s voice rings out.
“You wouldn’t say no to me anyway,” you shout back.
With a smile, Theo follows you down the stairs after your rowdy friends, hand wrapped tightly around yours. It had taken him five long years, and he certainly wasn’t going to let go anytime soon.
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I'm a sucker for soulmate aus
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dcxdpdabbles · 1 month
Text
DCXDP Fic Idea: Mr. Flavor's Soda
Danny gets thrown into an alternate dimension.
Which, sucks especially when he was just flying through the ghost zone on an exploration and had been attacked by a tribe of ghosts he had never seen before.
They looked surprisingly human, were it not for their horns and wings. Danny hadn't seen them coming, one moment he was looking at the Infinite Map trying to find his way back to the main section of the zone and the next he was being hurled to the ground from a flying net.
He hit the ground hard, with a startled yelp, as the ghosts surrounded him, each welding a sharp looking spears.
Danny wasn't sure what the net was made of, but it had forced him back into Fenton and deactivated his powers.
The tribe had been chanting in a language he could not understand, dragging him through their village as various creatures with similar features peaked out at him.
He been a helpless human staring up at the crowd as they sang and danced around a stone statue. Then a woman wearing a lovely golden leaf head piece stood up, and all went silent.
She gave what Danny thinks is a speech, waving her arms up and above her head. The crowd ate it up, cheering whenever she took a pause. The woman pointed to the stone as it began to glow, bowing it while flapping her wings.
Danny watched the crowd copy her actions intrigued by the strange festival until two large men flew over to him and lifted up his net. Their wings flapped in tune with the drums that picked up, carefully flying Danny over the crowd who all chanted and gently grazed their hands along his net covered body.
Danny felt unease, especially when the little tour ended with him dangling before the flowing stone that ripped open to a portal. It was ink black instead of the ussual green and horror creeps into his mind as the woman waves a staff over his head, the jingle of the bells attached to gently shaking.
Then the men through him through the portal. Danny's screams are drown out by the drums, stomping and joyful songs of the tribe that attacked him.
He has been sacrificed. He thought it would be the end, but instead, he wound up falling into a dumpster in a dirty alley back on Earth.
It took ages to wiggle his way the net, but by that point, Danny was too grateful to be alive to really care. When he stumbled out of the alley he came to find it was not his Earth.
His Earth did not have a place called Gotham. He been sent to a wrong universe, which wasn't the first time, but this time his powers were out of reach, locked within due to whatever net they had shoved him into.
The net disintegrated before his eyes, not even allowing him to study.
Danny was pissed. He wandered the streets, hoping to find help. All he had on his person was his student ID (which meant nothing if his school didn't exist) his broken phone and the credit card he had stolen from Vlad.
Testing the card at a gas station for a bottle of water, he held his breath as the clerk ran it and almost collapsed in relief as it went through.
Too bad the card had a limit of three thousand. He knew since he checked when he took it. It would be enough for a little while, but who knew with the economy in this world for how long. Everything was much more expensive, even the bottle of water was two dollars and fifty-five cents when back home it would have been Ninty five cents.
Danny needed a plan. He stumbled to a run-down motel and got a room wincing at the nightly rented it. Thank goodness the front receptionist didn't ask for an ID, as he checked him in.
Danny spent three whole days like this, trying to get Phantom to come forth from whatever lock he was stuck behind and wandering Gotham looking for anything familiar.
Eventually, Danny got a craving for a Coca-cola, and when he tried to find one, he came to the horrifying realization that his favorite drink did not exist. Not in this world.
Thank goodness Danny knew how to make some homemade version of it. He bought the supplies, telling himself it was worth the slight dent in his funds.
The receptionists at the motel startled when Danny breezed by carrying a lab kit (he only knew how to make it in a chemistry set since Tucker and he did it for a school assignment) and various groceries. She gave Danny an alarmed expression when he stumbled out a few hours later drinking his black liquid heaven.
Danny hadn't noticed she had gone for her phone with a pale face and shaking hands as he wandered around the city. He only realized something was wrong when he came back later that evening, carrying more supplies, determined to regain his various soda flavors he missed since his displacement.
As he was working, his rented room looked like a miniature lab as various sodas were carefully crafted. The following morning as Danny was attempting to scare his powers back into action by leaping off low fire escape he noticed a group of kids watching him.
They were just a filthy as Danny, so likely as homeless as him. Danny choose to ignore them as he raced up and down the stairs, doing flips to try to get his ghost side back. Eventually, a younger one creeper closer, staring at the re-purposed water bottled filled with his precious soda.
"Whats that stuff?" The kid asked eyeing the homemade cola with far too much interest.
"Cola" He responds, curious why the kid would get near someone who looked, honestly, insane. He would never have gone near someone taking two story jumps but that's just Danny.
"Is it strong?" The kid asks
Danny blinks. " I don't think so? I've been drinking it for a while, so it's pretty tamed for me"
"Where you get it?"
"I made it."
The kid nods, hand stuffed into his pocket before pulling out a crumbled twenty bill. "How much?"
"What?"
"How much for a bottle?" The kid asks, voice taking a sudden desperate tune.
Danny eyes the bill "I don't have any change. Just take the bottle. I can make more."
The boy's eyes bug out of his skull but he grabs a bottle and scrambles back to his group as if though he was worried Danny would change his mind. Odd.
The group of kids share the bottle between. They drink it quickly, some making faces as the carbonated bubbles go up their noses but happy.
The bottle is empty too quickly, and the kid comes stumbling back. "I know you said you didn't have change, but how many bottles could this buy me?"
Danny stares, and then he looks down at his haul. He has seven bottles left - one for each kid if he counted them right. "Look bring me smaller bills next time but for now just take the drinks"
"What kind of drug is it, if you dint mind me asking?" The boy says politely and Danny startles so hard he bangs his head on the metal latter.
A swears escapes his lips as the tiny boy- he could be no older then ten!- stiffens as if frighten. The group of kids behind him all become weary.
"It's not drugs! It's soda!"
"Soda?" The boy repeats confused then shrugs. "Sure man. Thanks!"
Taking all the bottles, the boy scrambles away, leaving the alley with his group as they all cheer. Danny shakes his head at them. This place is wild. He goes back to his jumps and ends up with more bruises than glowing powers.
But the following week the boy and his group retrun each carrying ones. Danny sells them more Cola for a dollar a piece encouraging them to save their bottles since he was running low. Then the week after that and the week after that, each time the group getting bigger.
Soon Danny starts to add different flavors, he hasn't found Sprite, Fonta or Dr.Pepper and he tries his best to bring the flavors back into this world. The kids loss their minds over it.
They nickname him Mr.Flavor since Danny forgets to introduce himself and now the little demons refuse to use his name even when he tells them. Danny realizes something weird is going on when adults start popping up in his alley also looking for a bottle.
He ends up making a steady income, walking home with a wab of cash. This is great since he is pretty sure he's near his card limit. The receptionist still eyes him with weary eyes but hasn't said anything as Danny builds a steady fulling for his drinks.
That's why when he wobbles back to his rented room now covered in even more reckless bruises, he is shocked to find his soda lab smashed to bits and a man in a red hood waiting for him.
"What the hell!" He yells as the man pointed a gun at his head.
"You think you can set up shop in my territory?" The man's growl is able to hear even with the voice changer.
Danny bristles "I can sell my soda wherever I want-"
"Soda?" The guy pauses, looking down at the various liquids sinking into the carpet. Before Danny can yell at him, the man reaches down and grabs two water bottles of every flavor. He walks backward to the smashed window - likely how he got in - with the gun still trained on Danny. "If this is anything other than Soda, say goodbye to your knee caps"
Danny lifts his chin "Shoot me. I'll turn ghost!"
The man says nothing as he flips backward through the window and vanishes into the night. Danny huffs, taking stock of the damage.
All his very small earthly possessions except for his three pairs of pants and shirts ( bought from a second-hand store with his soda money) were all ruined. He stumbles down to the front to report the damage, and the lady at the front actually shakes while telling him that they don't mind the damage.
Danny gives her a fifty as a thanks.
He tells the people the next day what happened. They all make faces and groan when he says it'll take time to replace his supplies. It's three days later that he finds the same helmet man in his room again. He was hit by a car earlier that night in a very desperate attempt to active his powers so he limps in, half sure he broken a bone or two.
The driver had speed away. A hit and run that hopefully won't be reported so no one will know Danny had noticed the driver was drunk and chose to get hit.
Danny spreads his arms "shoot me! Do it!"
Surely being shot would get Phantom back
The man shifts uncomfortable on his feet. "I'm not here to shoot you. I'm here to apologize. I tested your drinks and realized they were soda after all."
"So you smashed my stuff without verifying what it was? Lord of the flies you're evil!"
The man pauses. "Lord of the flies?"
"It's a classic. Read a book, pill head"
The man laughs. "I read plenty brat. Anyway, I brought you some gifts as a apology"
He pulls a tarp of a pile that Danny hadn't noticed in the dark. He gasps in delight when he sees state of the art chemistry sets all set up on a nice big table. He scrambled to the layout, eyes gleaming on the different syrups.
"This is awesome!" He chirps, picking up test tubes and checking thier quality. His mom would approve. His eyes catch a box underneath the table, which he quickly pulls out.
Inside are empty, new plastic disposals bottles. The lable has a shadowed leaping boy over the words "Mr. flavor Soda"
Danny gasps.
"I thought you needed a brand name." The man says, handing him a paper. "When you run out, go to this recycling place. They know to give you new bottles with your lable. Also, carry that sellers permit, or the cops will give you trouble. You know Anthony's Pasta?"
Danny gapes at the paper, blinking slowly. "No?"
"It's in Crime Alley. The Italian restaurant at the corner. They'll agreed to let you sell your drinks in thier lobby every Friday and Monday from opening to closing. There should be a light board in one of the boxes. Set up a menu for that day."
"What? Why would they agree to that?"
Danny can't see his face, but he thinks the man is smirking. "They owe me a favor or two. Do you best, kid, and stay off the streets"
"I'm not a kid. I'm fourteen, " Danny says, lifting his chin.
"Sure." The man steps back towards the window. Which seems to have been fixed in the nine hours Danny was out. Odd. "And kid? Please go to the free clinic."
He throws a business card with the clinics information before he vanishes into the shadows again.
Danny is left standing there with endorsement for a bubbling soda business with a shock expression.
Well, at least he has something to make some cash while getting his powers back.
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luveline · 9 months
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I would love to do a request if you would like! Some sort of Spencer Reid x Reader where the reader is super bad ass, tough, doesn’t show much emotion is kind of cold to others but has the biggest soft spot for Spencer!! 🫶🏻
thanks for your request lovey, I would love to write more of this pairing if you have any more requests ♡ fem!reader
"Here comes the ice queen," Morgan mutters, turning his chair away from the walkway. 
You walk down the steps from Hotch's office. Whether you were praised or reprimanded is anybody's guess —your face never gives anything away. Spencer doesn't necessarily agree with the way Morgan's categorised you, but he isn't wrong either. You're like Hotch in temperament, if Hotch were soft on only Spencer. 
That might have something to do with why Spencer won't call you cold. You're never cold with him. 
"What did boss man want?" Morgan asks. 
"If it were your business, Morgan, I'm sure you'd already know." You don't say it spitefully, but it's far from a warm answer.
Spencer honestly asks just to piss Morgan off, "Everything okay?" 
You visibly soften. Walking past Morgan without notice, you pause by Spencer's desk, your voice quieter, gentler. "Don't worry, Spence, everything's fine. You still reading that book about sex crimes in Arizona?" 
"I finished it. Doesn't take long." 
"No, you're fast," you agree. "What are you gonna read next?" 
It's amazing how swiftly you shift gears. Your body language totally changes, your shoulders slouching toward him, your hand open and resting on the back of his chair as if you might touch his hair. Morgan shoots Reid a look that says, What is happening right now?
"I was thinking about reading up on the Milk Killer, from 1954. He tried to give his victims blood transfusions high in lactose in an attempt to cure intolerance." 
Even Spencer admits that that sounds boring, but your face lights up with genuine interest. "That could be good. You'll have to tell me how it goes." 
"Sure." Spencer squints at you. "You have something on your face." 
"Yeah?" you ask, and Morgan goes wild behind you, dipping back in his chair in disbelief at your breathless tone. "What is it? Can you get it for me?" 
You bend a little and Spencer wipes the lint from your face sweetly. He wonders if he should be blushing, your affection for him as clear as it is, but for once, Spencer Reid feels smug. He can melt someone that Morgan can't. "All gone," he says. Smugness aside, you're a friend (and maybe a little more than that).
"Thanks, Spence," you say, popping a kiss against his cheek. "You saved me from embarrassing myself." 
Morgan clears his throat. You barely move, your hands twisting behind your back. "Hey, lovergirl," he says, making himself heard. 
"What, Morgan?" you ask, finally looking away from Spencer's pinking cheeks. 
"You have something," he says, pointing at the corner of his mouth. 
"So?" you ask indifferently. You turn back to Spencer as though nothing occurred. "Do you want to go to the movies again this weekend? They're playing a silent film. I think you'll like it." 
Spencer smiles genuinely. It's not his main concern, but it's definitely an added bonus to hear Morgan's sighed, "Are you kidding?" as he nods vehemently. 
"I'd love to," Spencer says. 
"Okay. It's a date," you say, smiling at him so nicely it feels like he can't breathe. 
"What's a date?" Emily asks as she returns from the kitchenette, eyebrows jumping. 
"It's a marker used to denote the day or month within a year," you say primly. "I have to go make copies for Hotch." 
You don't say goodbye. Morgan likes you, really, in the same way you like Morgan, so he gives Spencer a dazed look followed by a small smile. "Good luck with that." 
Spencer looks over his shoulder to follow your figure as you carry a box of reports to the photocopier. "I don't think I need luck," he murmurs. You glare at the copier, clicking one of its buttons aggressively. "She's nicer than you guys think." 
"Sure."
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koolades-world · 1 year
Text
Demons and Humans not understanding each other
Inspired by several other posts I read about this same thing <3 honestly even if the brothers insisted it was safe, I would consult Satan, Lucifer or Barbatos
this is mostly mammon freaking out
Humans think the deadliest things are like, adorable, like Cerberus. Mammon especially does not understand why Mc wants to run towards the very dangerous, very mad three headed dog. A few times he has had to throw Mc over his shoulder to keep them from staying behind
“MC CERBERUS BEING THE BEST BOY DOES NOT JUSTIFY HIS ACTIONS HE WANTS TO KILL US”
“But he’s so cute! He just needs a snuggle buddy”
Humans can also be very stubborn if they’re too hot or cold but refuse to admit it. It’s fine with Lucifer does it because he’s one of the most powerful and therefore resilient demons in Hell, but not so much when Mc does it. Beel and Mammon love playing in the Devildom snow, but given that it’s the Devildom, it’s definitely a lot colder than it is in the human realm. Even after ten layers, Mc is still freezing but refuses to admit it.
“Mc, are ya shivering? I thought ya would be too warm under all that”
“I’m sweating with this one jacket”
“I’ll live! Let’s go back to the snowman”
“no I don’t think you will”
On the same note, sometimes demons forget humans can’t withstand crazy temperatures. Asmo will invite Mc to a popular bathhouse, sauna or hot springs, forgetting that the temperature would literally boil Mc alive
“Hey Asmo this is the place you wanted to go, right?”
“Yes! Isn’t is cute?”
“Everything except the part where I boil alive”
“what!”
Some foods can kill humans just by being near them so imagine how the brother would feel when they learned this, it’s giving that lunatic pudding incident with Diavolo from that one card
“Mc! You’ll love this. Open wide!”
“Asmo I feel funny”
“DO NOT FEED MC THE TAKEOUT LUCIFER SAID ITS DEADLY FOR HUMANS IN LARGE AMOUNTS”
“FUCK NOT AGAIN”
In retrospect, humans probably sleep a lot compared to demons. Some demons probably don’t sleep at all, except Sloth demons. Setting aside about eight to nine hours of the day just to sit idly might not make sense to them until they learn they will shut down without it
“How are you feeling about the exam we just took? Exam week is finally over.”
“Mc? Mc, Satan is talking to you. Why are you on the floor”
“MY HUMAN IS DEAD”
“No, I think they’re just asleep idiot”
“oh. wait, THEYRE ASLEEP IN THE MIDDLE OF THE HALL lucifer is gonna kill me”
I’d say both demons and humans are social creatures, but humans will go insane without social interaction. Yeah a demon would probably be upset if they didn’t talk to someone for thousands of years but I don’t think a human could last more than ten without losing grip on reality. Humans tend to copy each other, which is probably bizarre to demons. Humans don’t even understand yawning so demons definitely won’t
Going back to the food thing, demons can probably go ages without eating, besides Gluttony demons. Humans need to eat so frequently compared to them
“So you’re tellin’ me that if Mc doesn’t eat for a whole week, their insides start to eat themselves?!”
“Yes. But, Mc ate a few hours ago.”
(Mammon was already gone when Satan turned back around)
Demons probably also play game that would definitely kill humans. My brother and I used to play crazy games when we were little (our favorite game didn’t have a name but we would put Barbies in the toy train tracks and see what would happen when different Thomas and friends character would hit her. The train tracks would glow in the dark! I did not let him put my favorite doll in the train track and he had to listen since I was the older one, she was not a barbie and had bendy feet? that’s not for now) but we never seriously got at each other throats. I cannot imagine what games demons and demon children must play. Satan was born fully grown but imagine if he was born little and the brothers had to play his favorite games with him. I feel like they would find the Barbie game I played a little weird too. Like, they would probably tell me that I should’ve done it in real life since that would be better experience or something batshit like that
“Aww, Satan, do you remember all the times we played “Five minute eye stab” with Lucifer? You were so cute. Sometimes I think Luci let you win.”
“Do not talk to me Asmodeus.”
“I’m sorry, you played what?”
“One time we gave him an actual knife by accident and since he was good, he ended up stabbing Lucifer’s eye.”
“You’ll be next if you don’t shut up and let me read”
“HE WHAT”
“Oh he’s fine now, clearly. Only took him a few hundred years to regain normal eye functions”
“Can we not talk about this anymore?”
Babe it is a miracle Mc is still alive
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reticent-writer · 1 year
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Okay The Hashira taking care of a half human half demon baby? Like the baby can survive on human food and animals and are repulsed by human blood. Like the babies basically are found trying to explore new things like Nezuko in a way
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Demon slayer masterlist Demons with baby reader
✿✼:*゚:.。..。.:*・゚゚・**・゚゚・*:.。..。.:*゚:*:✼✿ 
Shinjuro held you in the air and examined you. Kyojuro left you with his father while he and senjuro went to the market.
Leaving you with a former Hashira wasn't a good idea in hindsight but who would kill a child.
"Half human half demon huh?" He muttered to himself as he watched you move in his arms.
He lowered you to where you were nestled on his chest and he laid back.
Shinjiro and kyojuro came back to see you and their father asleep on the floor in your room.
-------
Giggles could be heard in the Tengen ousehold as it was dinner time.
Tengen was rolling on the floor with you as the girls made dinner.
"Hope the both of you worked up an appetite." Hina came in giggling at her husband on his back with you on his stretched-out feet.
"Ahh lord Tengen you have to be careful with them. They're just a child." Suma came in fusing over to pick you up
-------
Obanai didn't know how to take care of a child so he went to the closest person he knew, Mitsuri.
"Aww look how cute Obanai they eat human food." She gushed as she feed you.
Obanai watched in adoration as he couldn't help but think about how good she is with kids (people in general)
"Cool." Such a shallow response that held back everything he actually wanted to say.
If only he could tell her. (😭)
-------
"What am I supposed to do with you." Sanemi muttered as you crawled all over your temporary bedroom (a small room he didn't know what to do with).
"what do you eat?" He kneeled down to your height. You crawled up to him, using his knees to try and stand.
He poked your stomach causing you to lose balance and fall. You stared up at him, He stared down at you.
you started to huff.
'oh no' the thought 'they're gonna cry'
and cry you did. You screamed your lungs out as he tried everything to calm you down. He even tried to feed you his blood, which only made you scream louder.
He got you to calm down by giving you Ohagi. Turns out you love it almost as much as he does.
------
"Time to go to bed Y/n." Giyuu said as he watched you play with your toys for like two hours.
You turned to him before giggling. Unfortunately for Giyuu, you knew how to run. You stood up and got ready for an unwanted game of tag and hide n seek.
"Don't even try, It's time for bed." Giyuu also got ready as this isn't the first time this happened.
In fact, this happens most nights and Giyuu is always the winner.
You ran out of the room with Giyuu close behind you. You rounded the corner at full speed. Too much speed. You hit the wall. Giyuu was quick to pick you up.
"This is why we don't run in the house." He comforted you by rubbing your head and bringing you to your room. You were asleep in his arms as he laid you down.
------
All Muichirou wanted to do was train but since you were assigned to him his attention was all on you.
Currently, the 2 of you were having a staring contest as you both ate. You copied his movements, and he would just watch.
You never cried, screamed, or made much noise. You and Muichirou got along great.
He brought you to every Hashira meeting and he let you do your own thing.
-----
"Bu" you called to Shinobu from the pin she put you in. It was the only word you could say.
She looked up from her work over to you. You were standing holding on to the bar of the pin.
"Ah someone finally awake." She set her work aside and went to check on you.
"Bu Bu" You squealed as she picked you up.
"I'm here. I'm here."
You were the only reason she never worked herself to death.
✿✼:*゚:.。..。.:*・゚゚・**・゚゚・*:.。..。.:*゚:*:✼✿  
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mphountitled · 3 months
Text
𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐌𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞
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Farleigh Start x Fem!Reader
Summary: Hating Farleigh had never stopped him from using you
Content Warnings: Language, Fwb, Forbidden Relationship, Unedited, Dark Fic, Dark Humor, Coarse Jokes, Jealousy, Possessiveness, Smoking, Weaponizing!Ollie, Smut (+18), Minors DNI, Slight CNC, Breeding, Neediness, Exhibition Kink, Grinding, Extreme Degradation, Humiliation Kink, Praise Kink, Hate Sex, Hair Pulling, Rough sex, Messy Sex, Spitting, Orgasm Control, Dirty Talk, Choking
He'd definitely bully me if he was real, and I'd be in love with him
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"It's not like we're actually going to eat anything. Mother only insists we all make use of the furniture," Venetia's rambling is incessant as she walks briskly into the dining hall. You know her irritation is the by-product of the undiagnosed anxiety that comes with being forced into an uncomfortable Dior slip on such short notice.
In all fairness, you weren't doing so well either. The dress you are currently wearing is just as suffocating and Venetia's Saint Laurent heels dig into your bone. Your outfit is a velvety, laced up nightmare.
A torture chamber.
You wholeheartedly wanted to crawl into your own bed and forget about everyone and everything. In fact, the only thing keeping you mildly excited for dinner with The Henrys happens to be-
"Gentlemen!" You exclaim, before cleverly adding, "And you've brought Farleigh with you."
You all congregate at the left side of the dinner table, while the Henrys and The Henrys wives all mill about the dinner party. There are'nt any rules to things like this. It's all so self explantory.
What was not all too self explantory was your seating positions. Venetia forces you to sit in between herself and a very vexed Farleigh.
"How interesting," Farleigh barely addresses you in his tired monotonous lilt, "You're almost, nearly, just about, decently dressed." You bristle as you lower your behind to your chair, all while Farleigh shoots you a tight-lipped smile.
"Wow!" Your words drip with sarcasm, promptly halting Farleigh from flirting with the man to his immediate left - one of the Henrys closeted sons, no doubt. "That almost, nearly, just about sounded like a compliment!" You exclaim before leaning over beside him in a daring display of confidence. You place your hand tentatively on his thigh before whispering, "Am I going to have to use my rape whistle?"
Farleigh's scoff sends a string of lightning shooting down your spine.
"You're such a slut, I think you'd enjoy probably enjoy it." His breath is hot against your cheek and would be considered vile.
It should be vile.
Why can't you bring yourself to find Farleigh as vile?
With his elbows lowered underneath the table like a good little gentleman, Farleigh lets his fingers crawl tentatively over your thigh.
The games are on.
Your heart is beating at a million miles an hour with your mind reeling at not only Farleigh's large warm palm finding its home on your ample thigh but his words.
They are in complete contrast to everything you two have experienced together thus far on your stay in Saltburn.
As his fingers inch their way towards your inner thigh you're absolutely breathless. All you can think about is your escapade in the pool the evening before.
Both Catton siblings had been immersed in a very Catton argument, leaving you and Farleigh to your own devices on the banks of the stone pool.
With both your arms leaning over the ledge of the pool and Farleigh pressed to your side, no one could barely tell that Farleigh already had two digits dipped inside your weeping cunt. His hand moved slowly and deftly, so as not to cause too much of a stir in the water and give you two away. And he did it all while leaning his free hand out of the pool, cradling his copy of Jane Eyre with his eyes glued on the pages.
"F-Fuck Farleigh, can I cum?" He sighed at your agitated state.
"Not until I'm finished with Chapter 18." He mumbled almost distractedly, as if your needy voice was something akin to a pesky fly interrupting his reading.
Chapter 18, as you'd probably guessed, had never ended.
His cousins were back from their argument and his fingers left your cunt just as quickly. You had both went back to pretending to hate each other and you were left to 'rub one out' in the safety of your room like some hormonal teenager.
You truly are furious with him.
"What's this I'm hearing about a rape whistle?" Felix pipes up from the other side of Farleigh, equally dressed up all spiffy for the Henry's "You didn't rape anyone, did you?"
Farleigh's response is more of a hiss, "Of course I didn't-"
"Surely there must be more savory topics of discussion at the dinner table other than rape?" Comes the quick mediation of Elsbeth, who sits at the head of the table, clutching her string of expensive pearls as if they weilded the power to rid her of all these insolent little kids.
"Of course there is," you exclaim before turning your head to smile at the presence beside Ventia, nestled quietly in his seat like a little pauper.
Farleigh's manicured fingernails sink half moons into the skin of your thigh, peeking up from the slit of your dress as you lean away from him and say, "You must be Oliver! It's a relief to see another commoner around here." It was so undeniably petty to weaponize Farleigh's greatest foe, but the vexation of not being made to cum the night before still hangs heavily on your shoulder. And at the end of the day, you really just were a petty bitch.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ollie!" Slightly leaning over Venetia, the boy looks pale. As if he was biting down on his words. God, his tongue must be riddled in scars.
"Pleasure to meet you." Oliver cooly mirrors the warm and inviting smile stretched across your face.
"Don't lean over me," Venetia mumbles, "I'm not a child."
Meanwhile, Farleigh scoffs once again. While he injects himself in your conversation, his hands move swiftly to cup your vagina, nearly raking a gasp out of your throat in the process. "She won't sleep with you, mate." his brown eyes are trained on Oliver's. "She's a slut but not that big of a slut."
The extreme degradation laced in Farleigh's voice is enough to have you nearly moan out in front of all your friends, their family, and all the bloody Henrys.
Farleigh knew exactly which buttons to push to have you melting catastrophically against his fingers. He knew what words could have you slipping into subspace and he knew how to get your cunt weeping.
"Jesus Christ, could we not do this right now?" Venetia asks, staring pointedly at her cousin, and not at the sight of your legs parting to further accomdate his lazy rubbing against your cunt.
"I'm sorry, Cousin," Farleigh replies, "but it's not my fault your best friend is a raging bitch."
A breathless chuckle escapes your clenched teeth, "I-I'm not a-"
"Yeah, I am so completely done with this conversation," Venitia says, before strangling the stem of her wine glass and chugging it down as if it was nothing but water.
You turn back to hiss into Farleigh's ear, "You're such an a-asshole-"
"Say that again but don't sound like you're on the verge of squirting on my fingers in the middle of dinner." His grin is shadowed by the dimness of crystal chandlier and all the little candles posted along the table. "This is what you get for being a bitch," he says, socasually it makes you break your resolve by shifting in your seat, to better grind your cunt against his fingers, even for a mere second.
It's almost enough to make you cum right then and there.
"Oh-ho!" He aims a guffaw at the sky, "You really are a needy little slut-"
"This dress is shit," you suddenly push yourself out of your chair, creating the minimal noise of wood scraping against the floors. Most eyes are on you and Farleigh slyly removes his hands from in between your thigh. He leans over the table, bringing his fingers to his lips before spreading them over his gums like you would cocaine.
"I have to go change." You say to Venetia, before promptly (and very rudely) bowing out of the dinner.
A few seconds later, you hear Farleigh mumble something about needing a smoke and your heart rattles wildly in its cage. His footsteps are brisk behind yours, and you can feel his eyes sinking into your figure.
While your feet carry you to your destination and you let your brain catch on, you're already sneaking into Farleigh's room.
"Ah! Trespasser!" He exclaims excitedly behind you, with his hands stuffed in his pocket.
"You're so fucking annoying!" Your complains barely escape your throat before he's attacking you in a sloppy, open mouth kiss. He steals the air right out of your lungs, until he's breathing for the both of you. Farleigh slips out of his Abercrombie suit blazer, discarding the material as if it truly meant nothing to him.
His hands are everywhere, with special interests in your breasts compressed tightly by the uncomfortable stitching of your dress.
"This dress..." you mumble distractedly.
"Fuck this dress." He says, and you wholeheartedly agree. Perhaps it was desperate of you to turn in haste. Lifting the ends of your hair to present the zipper to him.
"You look fucking ravenous." He admits in a grave whisper, with his lips grazing the side of your neck, "I wanna fucking eat you." He says, "I wanna be inside you."
"You have such a dirty mouth, Farleigh," the groan that escapes his throat as he zips down your dress lets you know that you may have found your way in.
As the dress spills around your heeled feet, followed by your lacey underwear, Farleigh reattaches his full lips to the skin of your back. "What did you say?" His voice is like the rough gravel encircling Saltburn and you let your eyes roll to the back of your head as you arch backwards against him. His hardness presses against your ass and your fingers weave their way into his curls.
"I said youre a dirty boy, Farleigh." He ruts against you, almost as a second thought. "A dirty fucking boy,"
"Fuck," his hands dig into your hips, rubbing you against him. All as he pleases. "Fucking, fuck. I'm not gonna cum like this-" He says suddenly before spinning you back around.
It is few and sparse moments when you're reminded just how much taller Farleigh is than you and eventide it happens, the wind is knocked out of you. Farleigh advances on you like a literal predator until you're forced to fall backwards on his bed.
He barely undoes the bowtie, and only a few buttons go loose enough to showcase the beautiful expanse of his chest.
"You're absolutely soaked aren't you?" He asks, hovering on the bed above you.
"I need to cum, Farleigh, please-" You knew it was the only way to get what you wanted. You had unashamedly resorted to begging for a man who hooked his nails into your hair, forcing you to sit upright as he parted your legs.
"Look at you," he whispers before cackling maniacally. "You're so stupidly wet, you filthy fucking girl-"
"O-oh fuck, Fuck Farleigh," Your try by all means to grind your cunt into the mattress but is doesn't happen.
"When are you going to learn that I own your orgasms?" He whispers, with his other hand furiously undoing the belt of his fitted pants. "You don't cum until I say. You don't touch yourself until I say. You don't even fucking think about cumming until I say-"
"You're such a big little baby," you spit back, "A big needy, little b-"
You're once again pushed backwards and Farleigh's mounting you with his leaking cock locked tight in his fist.
You automatically lift your legs to present your cunt to him and he groans at the sight.
"I'm going to cum inside of you." He promises.
"I want you too."
Farleigh's eyes are heavy as he slides himself inside you. He looks down at you like you were the most precious thing in the world to him. A treasure trove.
"Fuck- I need you to carry on talking." Farleigh says before shutting his eyes tightly. "Fuck you feel so good-"
"You're doing so well, baby," his hips rut inside you, accidentally pushing his cock in way too deep, way too fast and you both hiss and moan. "Such a good boy," you say with your hair finding his own curls, "You're being such a good fucking boy, Farleigh-"
"Open your mouth," you comply robotically. Farleigh places his hands on the underside of your chin before tipping your head backwards. His chains dangle above you as you stick your tongue out and he spits directly into your mouth. "Such a slut," he says, "Such a filthy fucking good girl." His words have you grinding your cunt against his cock until soon, you're both on the precipice of cumming.
"F-Fuck-"
"Such a good girl," he whispers, with his breath ghosting yoir face and the sound of skin slapping against skin only grows louder and louder. "S-So fucking good-" He whispers over and over again until your cunt clenches around his cock, promting Farleigh's orgasm with a quickness.
His cum spilling inside you has you slipping unceremoniously into your own orgasm and Farleigh wails in both the pleasure of your cunt milking him dry, or your fingers still pulling his hair like crazy.
"Fuck!" He exclaims before slumping on the bed beside you, "Get your fingers out of my hair, you psycho-"
"You love it, though," there's a teasing lilt in your voice, and all Farleigh does is scoff before patting down the pockets of his pants.
"You give me endless reasons to smoke," he says, before tipping his head back, unknwongly leaning into your embrace as your fingers coil through his soft curls.
"You'd smoke anyway."
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starseneyes · 2 months
Text
Heart-Warmed and Teary-Eyed: Kindness Matters
I have a P.O. Box that I check once a week. Right now, I mostly use it for letter correspondence with my friend @always-coffee—a tremendous published poet and beautiful human I met by chance online.
Monday she said she mailed her latest letter. So, I stopped by the Post Office on the way home from dropping the kids at school on the off-chance it made it through USPS faster than normal.
I found no letter inside, but a flyer from the Post Office saying they were holding something for me that wouldn't fit in the box. I wondered if Ali had sent a letter that was too tall (because she has such amazing stationary). I had no idea what was about to happen.
I glimpsed the package as they pulled it from a cabinet and wondered what on earth Ali sent me. That was not a letter.
Then I saw The Golden Notebook Bookstore label and knew it was something @neil-gaiman related.
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For those who don't know (normal people who don't follow Neil on social media, for example), that is the local bookstore near Neil's home in New York. He periodically signs books for them that are sold with zero markup.
I am a fan of Neil as a writer, but also as a human. I don't follow many celebrities—a side effect of my set-kid youth—but I did follow Neil last year during the WGA Strike. Been a fan of his for ages, and Neverwhere is my favorite book.
Ali knows all this, and I just knew she had done something sneakily sweet.
I rushed home with a smile on my face, trying desperately not to set off the speed-trap on the road back. Let me tell you, driving speed limit when excited is not easy for me!
When I finally whipped into my driveway and sprinted into my house, I carefully opened the package (more excruciating slowness) and tried not to cry happy tears when I saw what was inside. Wrapped tenderly in bubble-wrap rested... a book.
What You Need to be Warm is a poem Neil wrote that features illustrations from some of the best artists in the industry. That in itself is wonderful. But the mission of this little book is what is so amazing.
See, the sale of every copy supports UNHCR—the UN Refugee Agency. This book literally helps people when you buy it.
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I have wanted to buy a copy for ages, but you all know I thrift and buy books secondhand. I didn't want to do that with this book.
I wanted to buy it outright to ensure the maximum amount of money went to support the cause. So, I have been waiting until we were a little more stable so I could buy it full-price, outright.
Thanks to Ali, I have a copy that was purchased outright (so it helps people in need) and it is signed!
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Yes, it's a signed copy with pen bleed on the opposite page, and all.
I would never do something like this for myself. You all know I am woefully practical and doing things for myself isn't second-nature. I’m working on it, but it is slow coming reprogramming a lifetime of behavior. So gifts like this... oh, they mean everything.
I am overwhelmed with gratitude that such a kind soul would do something like this for me. Thank you, Ali.
946 notes · View notes
aakeysmash · 21 days
Text
Tell me you love me
Pairing: f!reader x Sukuna Ryomen.
Word count: 2512.
Warnings: ANGSTTTTTT. An attempt at it at least lmao, let me know if I did a good job with it. A bit suggestive in the middle. Cursing. Mentions of cheating (mentions!!! No cheating in this house).
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People often say that Sukuna would be obsessed with the reader/oc, but I think a relationship with him would be the hardest thing ever.
He doesn’t get the concept of being in love: at the start of your relationship he found out you were more tolerable than anyone else, he assumed that meant he liked being around you and went along with it. Of course he fell in love in the long run, but for him it’s embarrassing to admit it. He barely even said it when you asked him why he wanted you to move in with him.
It’s not like he isn’t obsessed with you: he’s obsessed with the way you just seem to get him, with the way you smile when he comes home from a long day at work, with the utmost kindness you treat people around you with and that he lacks completely. He’s mesmerised by you, by the curve of your hips, the brightness of your eyes, the softness of your hands on his body.
He doesn’t show it, though.
He’s used to being rough and redeems emotions as futile. Like he already said to you in a couple of your arguments, if you get him you get him, if not, he’s not explaining himself. Everything he does is thought of and automatically right, so why would he give you explanations?
But sometimes in relationships you need communication. He doesn’t see how intense it is to be next to someone who acts like he doesn’t care about what you want to share in your daily life. And again, he does care: if he could, he’d make a copy of you yapping and just listen to it on repeat while working. He loves how passionate you sound while talking about your hobbies, he finds the little tilt to your voice when you search for his approval adorable. He doesn’t see how difficult it is to be with him because he’s only been with you, and you’re so good at communicating and making him feel heard he doesn’t notice he’s not reciprocating your efforts.
And that means that he’s never the one who wants to resolve misunderstandings, because he thinks they don’t really exist. You were upset about your dish not coming out the way it was supposed to and instead of reassuring you it was still edible he straight up said it looked horrible and walked away? He’s not sorry. He spoke his mind, did he not? And why would you be sad about the truth?
You’re not weak, and you’re not shy either. Kind people are not necessarily stupid, and you’re living proof of that. He’d never be in a relationship with a weakling who doesn’t know how to raise her voice and stand her ground. You’re fierce in your own way, and you know how to manage his stubbornness 90% of the time. You don’t like being disrespected or ignored, and you made sure to talk his ear off whenever he did it. Not like he purposefully did it, anyway.
But as a person who understands emotions and feels emotions, sometimes being with him frustrates you. And it comes to a point where you debate on keeping being next to him or leaving him for good.
He’s not the only one who has hard days, but when both of you have one, the silence inside your house is deafening. You’re the one who usually starts up conversations, but your mind is occupied with other things. You’ve barely touched your food.
“What’s got your panties in a twist?” He scoffs at dinner. He doesn’t like you frowning, it wrecks his heart. It makes him want to destroy the face of whoever took the smile he lives for off your face.
You sigh. “You know how my parents said they were coming to visit us next month? Well-”
He’s silent. Fuck, when did she say this? He thinks. Probably one of those days where the thought of your thighs suffocating him all night plagued his mind last week. Fuck, he’d take a bite of them right now if you let him. Maybe he could suggest it. It could take his mind off of his own shitty day.
“Are you even listening to me?” You say sternly. He notices you kept on talking while his mind wandered, but he disregards it.
“Wanna fuck?” He asks instead.
You’re baffled. “Sukuna, what the fuck?”
“Damn, you could’ve just said no, brat,” he says rolling his eyes.
You get offended. “Don’t fucking ask me what’s wrong if you’re not going to listen to me.”
“Yeah yeah, you were probably going to talk about how worried you are and shit. I don’t care about that. If you don’t want to get my dick wet I’m going to rub one out,” he says waving his hand in front of your face and standing up from his chair.
You huff out a sarcastic laugh. “Are you serious?”
“Would you prefer me to find someone else to do it for me?” He bites, snapping his head toward you.
He sees you widening your eyes. If there’s a thing you don’t tolerate is cheating, or jokes about it. He knows it. He knows it, dammit. You’re fuming.
“You’re an asshole. Fuck you. I’m sleeping at Nobara’s,” you spit at him, grabbing the purse you left on the side of the table and rushing out the door, slamming it.
When he’s left alone in your shared living room, he keeps on looking at your front door. The silence is making his head hurt, the only thing he’s hearing is the sound of the door slamming. Did he overstep? Nah, you were probably overreacting. He shrugs and finally moves from his spot, going to put his dish in the sink. He leaves yours on the table, because maybe you’ll be hungry when you come home. You usually are after an argument. You’ll come back after a couple of hours saying you didn’t want to worry him too much, you’ll sigh saying this can’t keep on happening and that you’re tired of arguing, then he’ll hug you and everything will be alright. Just like it always is. You’ve never left like this, though.
He ruffles his hair; he’s angry at everything and everyone. You should’ve got that he’s the one overreacting, why didn’t you get him like usual? Why aren’t you still back after 3 hours? He hates feeling angry. He hates feeling tired. He hates feeling in general. Most importantly, he hates that the hands in his hair are his and not yours. He hates the way right now he’s craving your soft voice reassuring him in his ear, your sweet words covering him like a blanket; his head on your chest listening to your heartbeat while lying on your couch, reminding you that you’re there. You’ve always been there. There’s no one else for him, there’s never going to be one. He’d never cheat, you’re so stupid for getting angry about it. Why did you get so mad about it? Suddenly, he’s thinking about random stuff you said that he ingrained in his head.
I love you too, Sukuna. I’ll wait for you to tell me that without me forcing it out, mh? I’ll move in with you, sure, if you ask me so that nicely.
You picked this book because it reminded you of me? Thank you, baby. I love it. Both the book and the fact you thought of me.
Can you stop messing up my sock drawer? No, I did not hide your cigarettes there. But please stop smoking, I love when you taste like my lip gloss and not that disgusting shit you inhale. Give me a kiss so I can prove it to you. I’ll take your breath away way better than tobacco.
He smirks while on the couch, alone. You’re so cute. He wants to bottle up your laugh. Why aren’t you back still? His mind doesn’t stop, though.
You hurt me, Sukuna. Why can’t you notice?
I feel like you don’t care about me.
If I hadn't come to you, would you have come to me? Or would you just have ignored this whole argument and acted like nothing happened?
Am I just filling up a random space you leave open for a significant other or am I the significant other that’s capable of filling that void?
That night he dreams of you. The way you glared at him asking him if he was serious, almost like a warning before you lashed out. He dreams of the hurt that flashed in your eyes when he spewed nonsense. And when he wakes up, you’re still not back. Your unfinished plate is still on the kitchen table.
But he’s prideful, that’s why you’re the one that’s always trying to resolve arguments. Yes, you’ll come back. He’s sure of it. You always came back during the 3 years you've been together.
A week passes by and he's going crazy. You haven't contacted him at all, and he didn't text first. He lies to himself saying it's because he's leaving you some space, but the truth is that he's scared. What is he even supposed to say? Hey, I'm sorry, I miss you, please come home? That's pathetic. He's taking a shower when suddenly his phone rings. His heart skips a beat and he rushes out to check if it's you. Please, let it be you.
Instead it's Yuji, his brother.
Yuji: Hey, what happened with y/n? She asked me to come get some of her things for her. Is she sick?
Sukuna frowns. Then he realizes that- you're going to move out. You're going to break up with him.
He goes into panic mode. He never thought about the possibility of you leaving him. He thought you would come back, like you always do. Why would you leave him? Is it because you finally realized that you're better off with someone who knows how to express their feelings for you? Did you get tired of him? Have you already found someone else?
He finds himself knocking on Nobara's door in the next ten minutes. He ran, he's sweating and it's starting to rain. He's out of breath, and he gets his hands on his knees while he waits for you to open the door. He's not ready to let you go. He can't even fathom a life where he doesn't wake up to you trying to get warm between his arms, without you nagging him while watching a film together, without helping you bake cookies while laughing with each other. Without not being able to talk from how in love he is while looking into your eyes. And he knows that if you leave him he's never going to be able to live in his own house ever again, or walk down the street you always do together, or go grocery shopping and not thinking about you while looking at vegetables. You always said you liked vegetables and he always lied about liking them just to see you excited about cooking them together.
"Yuji, I didn't think you'd be this fas- oh," you open the door and your face falls when you see it's Sukuna. He snaps his gaze toward your face when he hears your voice. He missed it so much. You're so beautiful. He missed all of you. So much.
Neither of you move, you just keep staring at each other. This time, he knows he's going to have to talk first. For the first time, he realizes how hard it actually is to confront someone first. Do you feel like this every time?
"Come home," he says. "Please," he adds.
You look sad. "I don't think I'm going to, Sukuna. It's been more than a week and you didn't even reach out to say... I don't even know what. I know you don't say sorry. You never do."
Your words feel like knives. From where you're standing you're taller than him, and he has to look up to look at you. It's like he's in front of the pearly gates of heaven and an angel is making him confess all the wrong things he did, except in this scenario you're the angel and the things he did are just what he thinks about all of this. About you in general.
And you're right, he doesn't usually say sorry. The words get stuck in his throat and he just gapes up at you, still catching his breath. Pathetic.
You sigh, then go to close the door. You don't look at him anymore and he feels like he can't breathe, and not because of the run.
"I'll come get my things next week. Go home, you'll get wet," you say. And your voice is clear, you're not mumbling, you must have thought about this. He sees how hard you're clenching your jaw to appear resolute, your nails hurting your palms from how hard you're closing your hands. But you still manage to worry about him, worry about him possibly catching a cold from the rain. And he loves you. Fuck, he loves you so much.
"Wait," he manages to say. You look at him with longing. With sorrow.
And he feels like he's crying to the angel in his afterlife when he opens his mouth again, thorns in his throat getting tighter, suffocating him. But he doesn't cry here, in front of you, even if maybe you'd like it. You'd probably say that you appreciate him showing emotions, maybe tease him for it, but you'd like it. He'd kiss you while you're still laughing, saying you're stupid, and you'd continue laughing.
"I love you," he rasps out. The words feel so unfamiliar to his tongue, but so familiar to his ears. You always tell him you love him. "I'm sorry for being a shithead. Please don't leave me. I promise you I'll get better at this communication shit," he begs.
You still don't move, but he sees you getting softer.
"Go home, Sukuna. We'll talk about it when it's not raining," you utter.
"No, I don't fucking want to," he snaps. You're startled, and he cringes. He's really not used to all of this. He doesn't like scaring you.
"Fuck, I meant to say I want to get over it right now. I didn't want to scare you. I want you back, Y/N. Please, have me back. I'll get better for real," he says while getting progressively closer to you.
"You promise?" You ask, now shorter than him. You're a step of distance from each other.
"I promise, baby. I'll make you the happiest girl to ever exist," he tells you, looking at you intensely.
"Start by saying you love me again," you mumble, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head on his chest. He engulfs you in his own arms, inhaling the smell of your shampoo, then snorts.
"Sure. I'm in love with you, brat."
Being in a relationship with Sukuna is hard, but he loves you easily.
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byechristopher · 4 months
Text
Quiet.
– MATT STURNIOLO SMUT.
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Author's note: Y'ALL. Shout-out to my Matt girls. This is my first Matt fic ever. I love everything about this fic – I love when women get ready when their crush MIGHT be there, I fucking love petnames and I feel like Matt definitely uses a lot too, I love movie nights and Matt would definitely finger his girl under the covers, I love dom but gentle Matt. I love it. Bye. Do not copy/steal my work. :)
Warnings: long and filthy smut. Minors dni! Semi-public?, fingering, petnames, dom!Matt. Didn't proofread!
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"So, can you swing by?" I hear my friend's voice through the phone.
"Absolutely. Heading to the market in a bit, grabbing some beers, and I'll be at your place by 9PM. Sound good?" I reply, rummaging through every drawer to find my wallet.
"Perfect, babes. See you there!" she says. After exchanging greetings, I hang up, sliding my phone into the back pocket of my pants.
Considering Matthew freaking Sturniolo will be there, I'm already dressed with makeup on, not wanting to waste a single second; I aim to be there ASAP.
Not that I'm trying to impress Matt (yes I am), but there's been a thing between us (I refuse to call it a "situationship") since we all started hanging out. I've been part of that friend group for nearly two years now, and from the moment I joined, Matt started being quite flirty. And ever since then, we just casually flirt, make-out, have sex.. very casual.
Now, after a few weeks of not seeing each other (though we talk on the phone almost daily), I want to be my best self. I've done my skincare, enjoyed a three-hour-long bath, styled my hair in loose curls, put on comfy clothes – the whole shebang. If I've done this for nothing, I'll scream. Internally.
None of this matters now, because I am outside my friend's apartment, clutching the paper bag of beers in one hand and my scarf in the other one. I knock on the door, patiently waiting but instead of my friend, of course it's Matt who opens it, dressed in his signature black hoodie, black jeans, his usual chain dangling around his neck and his usual rings decorating his fingers. He looks.. delicious.
"Didn't expect me to open the door." it's more of a statement than a question, so I smile and nod.
"Not really, no." I chuckle, not moving an inch.
"You told me you'd be here by 9. So I'm here." he says with that captivating voice, taking a step closer, slowly pulling the door handle without closing it.
Cupping my cheek, he moves in, rubbing my bottom lip with his thumb, gently 1smudging my lipgloss before leaning in for a kiss. I release my scarf to grab his free hand, tugging on his fingertips as I reciprocate the kiss.
"You look pretty." he whispers against my lips and I smile.
Before entering, I pause him, rubbing his lips with my thumb to remove my lipgloss from them. Chuckling at his knowing stare, I say, "come on, let's go!" gently pushing him inside.
God help me, he smells amazing.
After greeting everyone and putting the beers inside the fridge, I take off my scarf and my coat, heading to the kitchen again so I can help with the snacks and the beers.
"Guys, I'm sorry in advance but you're probably going to freeze your ass off. Something's wrong with the heating so I'll just give y'all a ton of blankets." our friend apologises but we all brush it off.
"Bitch, we used to hang out in dark alleys in WINTER when we were younger, literally shut up. We can take it." another friend says, rolling her eyes and I laugh. We are all living the same lives, it seems.
After deciding which movie we will watch, with the snacks and the drinks on the table and the blankets ready to provide us with warmth, we were finally ready. I did have my eye on Matt so of course, when he patted the spot next to him on the small settee while looking at me with a smile, I almost ran to make sure I secure my place next to him.
The movie has started already, Matt is sitting next to me and we have two blankets covering us – his hand is on my thigh and my thigh is over his leg. His thumb is rubbing my leg through my pants and it's much more distracting than I could ever imagine. I do make sure to curl up against his side and he smiles, making sure the blankets are covering me properly.
Not even fifteen minutes have passed and I already feel the need to pee; that goddamn wine. I excuse myself and practically run to the bathroom, only to come back a few minutes later to see Matt almost laying on that settee. All the lights are closed but I know he can kind of see my reflection because of the big TV screen, so he can see the question marks all over my face – where the hell am I gonna seat?
He smiles and he pushes the blankets to the side, sitting up a bit and spreading his legs so I can sit in between them.
Well, fuck.
Sitting down in between his legs, I grab his thighs to support myself and make sure my whole back is pressed against him, leaning back to practically lay on his chest. I pull the blankets over us and he pecks the top of my head, almost as if it was a reward.
Seeing where all of this is going, I thank whoever is up there because our friends are quite far from us, all fully facing the TV. Matt quickly wraps his arms around my waist, resting them on my belly and I can feel how cold his hands are even through my shirt. Minutes go by and I can feel Matt playing with my shirt, his cold fingertips already touching my bare skin, raising goosebumps on it. He drags his short fingernails up and down my sides, making me smile because he knows I like that.
His hands slowly drag themselves up, pulling my shirt over my chest, my breasts now free, "love when you're not wearing a bra." he whispers in my ear and I chuckle.
My hands are on his knees and his hands are on my breasts, cupping them and caressing them, pressing small kiss on my neck, "you smell amazing.." he whispers, "do you think you can be quiet for me, pretty?" he pecks the tip of my ear.
"Yes, Matt.." I whisper back, getting comfortable on his chest, still pretending to watch that movie.
His hands are massaging my breasts, rubbing and pinching my nipples with his long fingers, tugging on them every now and then – it is hard to keep quiet but I've done this many times, I'm sure I can handle it.
Sitting with bent knees now, he hums, pressing another rewarding kiss on the top of my head, "keep playing with your tits for me, hm? I'm gonna take care of you." he whispers and I want to moan just by the words he says.
I nod and cup my breasts instead, massaging them gently as I feel his hands moving down to my thighs – he massages them and spreads my legs open gently, placing his legs on my feet to keep my legs in place. I feel his fingertips hooking around the waistband of my pants and panties, gently pulling them down as I slowly raise my hips to make it easier for him.
"You have to be very quiet now, okay?" he says and I immediately nod, desperately needing him to touch me there, "tease your nipples. I want to see you struggling." he chuckles, keeping me close to him.
I gently hit his leg and he can't help but laugh – I keep teasing my nipples, just like he ordered, keeping my eyes to the television even though I can feel his fingers dangerously close to where I need him the most. Finally, one of his fingers gently touch my clit, rubbing in circle motions as his breath fans over my ear together with the softest moans. I can feel him dragging his finger down, only to chuckle at how wet it is down there – I almost whine.
"God, I wanna taste you. You're so wet." he whispers and circles my entrance, collecting my juices and focusing back on my clit.
"Matty.. please.." I whisper back, my hands now leaving my sensitive breasts, grabbing his thighs instead.
"Please what, sweetheart?" he says and gently slaps my pussy, making me gasp softly.
I couldn't speak – all I can think about is his fingers inside of me. But I feel like if I open my mouth now, I won't be able to keep my moans in. I buck my hips, needing to feel more pressure on my clit but he's having none of it. He pushes my hips down and flicks my clit in the softest way possible, which makes me want to cry.
"You know how it goes. Use your words." he uses two other fingers to spread my pussy, making it easier for him to rub my clit with his middle finger.
"Please.. Matty.. I need.. your fingers inside of me.." I beg between shaky breaths, trying to be as quiet as possible.
"See?" he kisses the side of my head, "there's my good girl." he says and just by that, I almost lose it. But then he finally pushes a finger inside of me and I have to cover my mouth with the blankets.
His middle finger pushes in and out of my wetness and I squeeze my eyes shut, really trying not to let out the moans that have been threatening to come out this whole time. His other arm is wrapped around me, keeping me in place as he rubs my clit and fingers me at the same time with his other hand.
"I'm going to add another finger, baby. I need you to keep that pretty mouth closed, yeah?" he warns – the hand that was gripping my waist is now keeping my mouth closed, I nod anyway.
He slowly takes his finger out and instead, he rubs my entrance with two fingers. He gently pushes and I wince softly in his hand, "you can take it, baby, shhh." he whispers and I really need to fucking moan now. He finally pushes both of his fingers inside of me and I want to cry from how good it feels. My nails dig into his thighs and luckily (for him), he's wearing jeans otherwise it would definitely leave a mark.
He starts moving them in and out, slowly, still covering my mouth under the blankets with his other hand as his lips move to my neck. He starts sucking on the skin, licking it and biting it as he pushes his fingers inside till he's knuckles-deep.
"I wish I could kiss you right now – the way you would moan into my mouth trying to kiss back, turns me on." he takes my earlobe in between his lips, gently sucking on it.
His fingers start moving at a much faster pace and I'm sure that if the TV wasn't this loud, everyone would hear the noises my pussy makes from how wet he made me. He curls his fingers inside of me and I close my eyes, really struggling to keep my mouth closed now, "pretty girl. Do you think you can take a third finger?"
I wrap my fingers around his wrist and slowly move his hand away from my mouth, letting him know I have my moans a little bit under control now (not even close), "please, Matt.. I need it.." I whisper, my voice is trembling. Still, I grab his free hand and pull it closer to me, taking a finger into my mouth and I can feel his bulge against my back.
"Darling, don't do that.." he warns, "or I'll have to fuck you in front of everyone." he whispers and bites my neck.
Finally, he's pushing a third finger inside and I really need to cry. He's finger-fucking me at a fast pace, he's being rough but gentle at the same time, it's overwhelming, "touch yourself, baby. And don't stop."
I quickly move my free hand, rubbing my own clit gently as he fucks me with force – I am so close and he knows it, I can feel myself clenching around his fingers.
"Matty.. Matt.. fuck, I'm – please.." I am almost completely under the covers because I can try to keep my moans in, but my expression definitely cannot be hidden.
"Are you going to cum for me, baby? Come on. Come on my fingers." he's so gentle when he speaks but his fingers are merciless, and that contrast is what drives me over the edge.
"That's it, baby.. that's it." he whispers and I finally cum, trembling a little but I try not to make it so obvious.
He takes his fingers out slowly, caressing my legs in order for me to calm down before he brings them close to his mouth, licking them clean, "when this movie is over, you're leaving with me. I'm eating you out in my car."
He drives me crazy.
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strawbrryval · 5 months
Text
Emo!choso Headcanons
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EMO!CHOSO who i think would listen to baby metal, slipknot, korn, mcr, tv girl & ptv💋
EMO!CHOSO who your conservative christian parents tell you to stay away from because they thought he would corrupt you. (they were right.)
EMO!CHOSO who you got paired up with for a group project and he did all the work despite you insisting that you can do something too and him telling you that it was okay.
EMO!CHOSO who likes to sneak through your window unannounced, just because he misses you and loves cuddles. :(
EMO!CHOSO who fucking got off on the fact that he was your first everything. he loved the fact that he got to corrupt you.
EMO!CHOSO who bought a piercing kit off of amazon and taught himself how to give piercings just so he could get you matching ones.
EMO!CHOSO who you persuaded to get matching hello kitty tattoos. (he acts like he hates it but he secretly thinks that they're adorable.)
EMO!CHOSO who taught you how to skate and even bought you your first board as a gift because he was so proud of his baby.
EMO!CHOSO who had your parents enraged when you told them you guys were dating. your father was screaming at you while your mother was crying in the background wondering where she went wrong.
EMO!CHOSO who makes his new tongue piercing very evident by flicking the cold metal against your puffy clit again and again until you were a moaning mess.
EMO!CHOSO who was absolutely elated when you finally gave him permission to take your virginity.
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Bonus: It was quiet in your bedroom.. only noises being the wet squelching sounds of your tight cunt bouncing off the walls. "F-fuck baby.. y're milking me.. havin' me drip all over the sheets.. you sure this pussy 's a virgin?" your cheeks had started to heat up from embarrassment, whimpers and cries only getting louder as you neared your release. your walls tightened around him as you came, eyes rolling back in your head as you dragged your fingernails down his back, creating more angry red lines. "Fuuuck," he groans. Beginning to pick up the pace a bit in an attempt to bring him to his release. "C-cho.." you whined, pretty tears running down your face as you cried from overstimulation. "j-just a bit more baby, it'll be over soon.. okay? promise." you nodded at his reassurance and tried to choke back your sobs as he stuffed you full of his cum. He spent the rest of that night showering you with kisses and cuddling you until you both fell asleep. (only to be kicked out by your father the next morning of course.)
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a/n: first mini smut you guys!!! pt. 2: here.
© strawbrryval, 2023. do not copy, steal, or repost my content without permission.
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