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#you are safe in the shadows - but not for long
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You're Mine
Azriel x reader
~
You threw back another drink at Rita’s trying to drown the way you were feeling. You sighed as you leaned against the bar. You watched as Azriel leaned into Elain to make sure she was okay. You felt your heart crack a bit. You made sure your walls were up mentally and physically. You didn’t want anyone else to know how you felt about the shadowsinger. Mor was the only one that knew and you wanted to keep it that way. You closed your eyes centering yourself. When you opened them again, you locked eyes with those hazel ones you have loved for the last two hundred years. You gave him a smirk as you turned for your next drink. You felt a presence beside you.
“How are you holding up?” Mor leaned against the bar with you.
“I’m fine, Mor. Nothing a little of this can’t take care of.” You swirled the amber liquid around in the glass. Mor rolled her eyes at you. 
“Maybe, you should tell him?” You felt yourself freeze. She was the only one that knew the mating bond snapped, for you anyway. She was there when it happened. Your jaw tensed. 
“I’m not telling him.”
“Why?”
“Look at him over there with her. He’s infatuated, he looks like he’s in love and in the last three hundred years I’ve been with you all he’s never looked at anyone else like that before. Anyone.” Mor pursed her lips. She was about to say something when she saw it about the time you felt it. A shadow wrapping around your ankle. You smiled a bit. You let the shadow slither up to your shoulder. 
“Hello there. I’m fine, you can tell him.” You gently caressed the little shadow before it scurried back down your side and over to the shadowsinger. You looked over to find shock on his face. Did he not know one of them came over to you? You quirked your eyebrows but quickly turned back to your conversation with Mor. “Anyway, I’m gonna go. I leave in the morning.”
“Leave? Where are you going?” You downed the rest of your drink before you answered her.
“The continent. Rhys wants an eye on the queens since we haven’t heard from them since before the war with Hybern.” Mor’s eyes widened.
“Are you going alone?” You nodded. She let out a scoff. “I can’t be here right now, Mor. Not while all of this is going on. I need to go somewhere, do something. I won’t be gone long, just a day.” She sighed. She knew.
“Doesn’t mean I like it. Just be safe, don’t die.” You laughed at her. She gave you a smile back.
“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.” You gave her a small hug and made your way out of Rita’s. You were halfway down the street when you heard, and felt, a gust of wind.
“You’re leaving?” Shock covered your features as the shadowsinger appeared behind you. 
“Jeez, Az, a little warning please.” He waited for you to answer his question. “Yes, I’m going home.” He gave you a look. You sighed before answering him. “I leave in the morning. I’ll only be gone a day, two at the most.”
“Where?”
“The continent.”
“It’s dangerous.” You tilted your head at him.
“I’ll be fine, Az. You’re the one who trained me. I’ll be fine.” Azriel didn’t seem so sure. You giggled as one of his shadows wrapped up your arm. You smiled down at it. “Tell him I’m going to be fine.” The little shadow seemed to disagree as well. You let it wrap around the hand you held up to it. You let it wrap around your hand and slide around for a while until it seems to be content. 
Azriel was looking on in awe. He didn’t even ask his shadows to do that. They did it of their own accord. He had never seen that happen until tonight when you were at the bar with Mor. The way you giggled as it wrapped around your hand made his heart squeeze in a good way. Once his shadow seemed pleased it slithered back down your arm, leg, then scurried across the small space between the two of you.
“Are you sure you don’t need anyone to go with you?” He wasn’t sure why, but the thought of you going that far alone made his entire body ache. You reached out, giving his arm a squeeze.
“Az, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.” That signaled the end of the conversation. Azriel sent one of his shadows with you to make sure you made it home. You let out a loud laugh, “Thank you, Az. Goodnight.” The shadowsinger didn’t reply. He just waited until you made the short walk back to your apartment.
~
You were not fine. Someone had tipped the queens off about your arrival. You didn’t know who it was, but you sure as hell were going to find out. You were taking a quick breather in a cave that seemed to be safe. That’s when you felt it. A little shadow crawling from behind your wing. You let out a sigh of relief. 
“Hey there. He just couldn’t stand that I was going alone could he.” The shadow seemed to do a little dance confirming you were right. “I need you to tell him I was ambushed. I don’t know who did it and it could be more than a day until I’m back. He cannot come and cannot send anyone. I’ll make it back.” The little shadow slithered down to your hand and wrapped itself around it. You gave it a smile. “I will make it back.” It seemed to hear the conviction in your voice. It seemed to hug your hand before it scurried away. 
You took a deep breath steeling yourself for what you were to do next.
~
Azriel’s shadow came back to him. He was surprised considering he hadn’t sent any out today. Once back it told him what happened. He swore the entire world stopped at that moment. You were ambushed and you told him to stay away. The worst part is, he knew you were right.
“Dammit.” He made his way to Rhys’s office at the House of Wind to relay what he found out. He did send a few shadows out to see if he could find who ratted you out. Azriel opened the door to find Rhys and Cassian already there. “We have a problem.”
“What is it?” Azriel explained everything that happened to you and how you were holed up in a cave, safe, for now. 
“Shit.” Cassian was up pacing before he even finished and Rhys had his head in his hands. 
“What was this for anyway?”
“I needed someone to go see if there was any movement from the queens. I was going to ask you, but she volunteered.” Azriel didn’t know how to feel about that. 
“Why would she do that?” Rhys and Cassian leveled him with a stare.
“For a spymaster, you sure are dense.” Rhys threw a hard stare in Cassian’s direction.
“For the love of the Mother, Rhys, I can’t not tell him at this point.” 
“Tell me what?” Cassian and Rhys shared a conversation he wasn’t privy to. Rhys finally relented.
“She’s your mate, Az.” Az felt his heart drop. 
“What?” Rhys and Cassian sighed. You didn’t know Rhys and Cassian knew the bond snapped into place for you. They had sensed something was different. It didn’t take long for them to put the pieces together, although you hid it very well. They let the information sink in for the spymaster. 
“She volunteered because of the way you’ve been stuck to Elain’s side.” All three turned to see Mor standing in the doorway. She wasn’t sure if they had put the pieces together, but she knew Rhys, it wouldn’t take him long. Azriel felt his chest tighten. Yes, he had been by Elain’s side the last few months, but she didn’t see him that way, she just needed a friend. 
“That’s not, there’s nothing between Elain and me.” 
“It didn’t seem that way, especially to her. I tried to get her to tell you, but she thought you wanted Elain. So, she took this mission to get away, even if it was just for a day.” Azriel had no idea. Didn’t even get a hint that the two of you were mates. It made sense though, the way he was around you. He seemed more open with you, it was easier to joke with you. The way his shadows were drawn to you. It made so much sense. The other three stood there watching as all the pieces fell in place for the spymaster. Azriel opened his mouth to say something when one of his shadows wrapped around his ear. 
She’s hurt. 
Azriel stood up ready to go find you when they heard a commotion in the hallway. The four of them ran out to see what was going on. They followed Naula down the corridor, she led them to the balcony outside the dining area. There you were a crumpled heap on the ground.
~
You heard your name. You looked up to see Azriel, Mor, Rhys, and Cass running toward you. Azriel reached you first. He hooked one arm around your back and the other under your knees lifting you off the ground.
“What a welcome committee.” You rasped. You were breathing hard, too hard. Az watched the pain flash across your face. Your hand gripped Az’s shoulder a little harder. One of his shadows curled around your hand. You managed to smile a little. “Hello again.”
“Where are you hurt? What happened?” You closed your eyes, taking a breath before you replied. 
“My wings.” The four of them looked to see the ends of your wings torn and many different spots. You heard Rhys yell for someone to get a healer. “I found out who did it. They won’t be a problem anymore.” Azriel couldn’t help the smirk that crossed his face.
“That’s my girl.” He kissed the top of your head. Azriel carried you to a room, there was a couch. That’s all you could manage to comprehend through the pain. Azriel laid you down on the couch and immediately kneeled down beside you. He grabbed your hand. He didn’t let go. Not when Madja arrived. Not when you nearly passed out from the pain. He was there. Never letting go. Never leaving your side.
~
Madja said to rest for a few days. It was currently day four of healing and you had managed to talk Madja into letting you go home. You were rummaging through your kitchen when you felt it. You giggled as the shadow wrapped itself around your ankle and made its way up your side and perched on your shoulder.
“You can come in, Az. It’s unlocked.” A second later you heard your apartment door open. You turned to see him bringing a couple of bags in. “What’s all this?”
“A few groceries. I thought you might be getting low.”
“Thanks, Az.” You started helping him unload the bags. You were putting them away, his shadow still perched on your shoulder.
“They don’t do that with anyone else.” You turned, giving him a questioning look. “My shadows. They don’t do that with anyone.”
“You haven’t sent them?” Azriel shook his head. “Even the one that was with me on my mission?” 
“I didn’t send it. I didn’t even know it was gone until it came back to me.” The shock was evident on your face. You had assumed he sent it. You looked at the little shadow still perched on your shoulder. “They only do that with you.”
You felt your heart stutter at the look he gave you. That’s when he felt it. The bond snapped into place. It had snapped for you long ago, but you could finally feel him. Everything. 
“Az,” you didn’t know what else to say as he made his way to stand in front of you.
“You’re mine.” You felt the bond glow within you, but you had to ask.
“What about Elain?”
“What about her?” He didn’t mean it in a mean way, but he wanted you. 
“You two just seemed so close.” You didn’t know how else to say it. 
“I don’t want her. I’ve loved you for so long. I just didn’t think I was enough for you. I’m a-” you placed your finger on his lips. You knew what he was about to say. He was about to repeat what every Illyrian warrior has called him for years. You weren’t having any of it.
“Don’t you dare. You are everything, Az. Everything.” You cupped his face and watched as his shadow crawled across your arm to join the others. You stared into those hazel eyes, losing yourself. You took a deep breath knowing what you were about to do would make this final.
“Would you like something to eat?” Azriel’s eyes widened. He knew you were mates, but he was still unsure if you would accept the bond. 
“Really?”
“Really.” Finally he slotted his lips against yours. You felt everything in the kiss. You were his and he was yours.
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missglaskin · 1 day
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“You’re such a perv!” 
Aka DC Superheroes as pervs; Dick, Jason, Tim, Roy, Wally
Please don't put a community label on this (it will only shadow ban it)
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Surely your friend and confidant is not some peeping tom right?!
Warnings; SMUT, female reader, vigilante!reader, Perv shenanigans, panty stealing, masturbation, dirty thoughts, corruption kink, invasion of privacy
Dick Grayson has always been your closest friend; he's the leader, the guy that everyone either wants to be like or wants him for themselves. But the boy wonder had his eyes on you, his oblivious friend. He has always been there, aiding you in missions; always saving the day, or praising you for a job well done. So how could you ever possibly know of his intense desire just for you. Dick knows his actions are downright disgusting, that small voice inside his head filling him with guilt, but his desire is just stronger. 
Missions with you are the worst. Watching you be so confident and just kick ass has him feeling all sorts of ways. Trying to turn away from your line of sight so you won't see his hard-on, his cock rubbing uncomfortably against his suit. Dick will use any excuse to get away, jerking off on the side of a rooftop, a hand against a wall and another stroking his cock, while he imagines it was your hand instead, and that alone pushes him over the edge. 
He'll find a way to make you want him too, Dick knows you're not immune to his charms. Will it be too obvious that when he goes for a hug, it's a little too tight. Is it when he places a hand on your waist pretending to keep you in place, daring his fingers to go further down. Will you push away the hands that place themselves on your thighs to pretend he's comforting you. You won't. Just as you refuse to shove away the fingers that inch closer and closer between your legs. Is it really so bad if you want him too.
--------------
Jason Todd knows he's a sick fuck. What kind of friend is he to even think of such things. But they are just thoughts, right? As long as he doesn't do anything creepy that is. Surely anyone dreams of fucking their best friend-that is, imagining your lips wrapped around his dick while he fists your hair, forcing you to take all of him. The guilt returns when your voice reaches him, asking him if he heard you, interrupting his brief moment of fantasy. He's relieved that the mask doesn't allow you to see how intensely he's staring at you.
It becomes a line he knows he crossed. When Jason found himself staring at your apartment window - he didn't intend to, he was just patrolling and happened to come across your apartment. Knowing you were safe and well should have been his reason to leave, until you started undressing. Seeing your tits exposed made the blood rush to his cock and when you bent slightly to remove your panties, Jason was sure he could have come right on the spot. 
You went to take a shower as Jason entered your apartment. Surely you must know to keep your window locked. Finding himself creeping toward the bathroom as if you were beckoning him in, instead, he stopped and stood over the disregarded clothes; reaching for the panties. Jason would have beaten anyone to a bloody pulp if they had done that, but it was his own reflection staring at him. He is a sick fuck, he thinks as his finger brushes over the damp spot and how he shoves it into his pockets. He's not sure if he should return your panties later, given that he eagerly rubbed his cock with it, leaving it cum stained.
-----------
Tim Drake is a wolf in sheep's clothing; he is the one person you never suspect of thinking such perverted thoughts. Tim is aware he can never justify the things he's doing. He just tells himself that he merely lacks the courage to approach you, not that it's a good reason, but it's enough for him to maintain that tiny sliver of morality. There are moments when he wishes he could just concentrate on his patrolling to keep you off his mind, but you are always there, at the back of his mind. 
Tim realizes he just can't get off without thinking about you. Tim tries watching some porn, but he keeps imagining your face instead of the actress, and he hates how it helped him reach his orgasm. Or in the mornings, when his boner is becoming too much of an issue and he's in the shower trying to rid of it. His thoughts wander to picturing you in front of him, bare and wet, with your back against the glass walls and you moaning his name. 
If there was ever a time that Tim was made known that he was really sick was that day. Him laying in bed stroking his cock and seeing the phone ringing in the corner. It's you. He ought to have just let it ring or decline, but Tim didn't know what possessed him to answer the call. Your voice is heard as he bites his lip to not let his whimpers be heard, tasting copper on his tongue. Tim moves the phone further away when he reaches his high, cum covering his hands and stomach as he continues the conversation, hoping you don't hear his ragged breath.
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Roy Harper was the one person you could always confide in. He had a way of cheering you up, your tears dried as your laugh echoed throughout the room. How you consider him to be your closest friend and best partner in crime as you speak to him, while Roy thinks of how the low cut of your shirt gives him a good view of your tits from an angle. When you call his name to get his attention, Roy gives you that smile of his as he uses an excuse to use the restroom. 
Roy loves taking pictures of you. You knew Roy had them, just never imagined he would have them in his sights while he jerked off. Pictures of you with a skirt had Roy fantasize about wearing em while he's railing you from behind. Your face pressed against the pillow while you bubble nonsense, too drunk on his cock. Pictures of you looking up, had him fantasizing of you staring at him with those eyes of yours as you use your mouth, bobbing up and down on his dick.
Unaware too Roy had 'private' photos, all thanks to a few hacking tricks. Roy was occasionally tempted to send you a nude photo of himself, see how you react, and cover it up by saying it was a 'mistake'. Would you perhaps return one or get jealous wondering who it was intended for. Roy gets up, cleaning himself as he’s planning to you meet you later that day. He eyes the slightly crooked tile above his ceiling, storing all the belongings he's taken from his visits to your place. Roy thinks when the two of you are official, he should hide it in a better place.
—-----------
Wally West had plenty of opportunities to hint at his feelings toward you. He liked making flirtatious comments, complaining when he wasn't paired with you during missions, and placing an arm over your shoulders. But you just assume it's Wally's typical self, not noticing his hurt look when you claimed to be "just friends". Then again you never noticed his hurried departure and quick return, where he avoided making eye contact at all costs.
Wally feels the guilt the most. He could have just confessed to you like a normal person. Guilt consumes him when he sees your gullible smile, unaware of the horrible things he did behind your back. It's not his fault really; he was invited to your place and was simply looking around until he found a certain drawer. Wally reassures himself it's not that bad if he only takes one. But it gets to a point where you're complaining to Wally about how your clothes disappear (not telling him which kind).
A point comes where Wally reaches his breaking point. The sneaky pictures, lying on your bed when you weren't around, face in the pillows to inhale your scent could do so little. As he stares at you speaking, Wally makes a move expecting to be rejected, but you kiss him back. He was in heaven, the dreams he had in every waking point coming true. He was where he wanted you to be, on top with you full of his cock, your eyes nearly blacked out as he slams his hips repeatedly into yours. Can you blame him for moving too fast when he has been holding back for so long. 
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rubiehart · 1 day
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when john b is wanted by the cops, leopard!reader uses her pretty privilege to get the pogues some sustenance in the form of shitty pizza.
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the roughed up teens sit in the crowded truck, seats reclined to keep them out of view of any passers-by who were drooling for that reward money. the yellow-ish light coming from the ‘urban slice’ sign illuminated the side walk, casting eerie shadows across the faces of the teens and distorted reflections against the windows.
“does anyone have any more cash to contribute?” clearly irritated, pope tries again, shaking the few coins he has in the palm of his hand, giving expected looks towards everyone. the silence was all the evidence he needed and he lets out a long sigh.
“dude, i’m so hungry i could eat my own arm.” jj pipes up, throwing his head back against the seat and flopping his arm around for empasis. the girl with her head on his lap gives him a sideways look, teeth crunching down loudly on the hard candy, completely unamused by his antics.
“only time i’ll agree with jj.” kiara adds from the driver’s seat, throwing an arm over her eyes and groaning. jj scoffs. “how much you got pope?” the second girl asks, sitting up from her laying position against jj and eyeing up pope expectedly. “uh-“ he starts, jingling the coins around between his palms to count. “79 cents.” he almost winces, eyes flitting to the girls face as she throws herself back against the leather seat with a groan. “great.”
“will you all shut up, for even five seconds? please.” john b asks with his eyebrows furrowed, turning his body to face the three in the backseat, eyes trained specifically on the girl with a short temper. “acting like i can’t hear your stomach rumbling from here.” she quips back, arms crossed over her chest, an equally unamused expression on her face.
huffing impatiently, she takes one last glance at her unhelpful friends, reaching over pope to pull the handle of the door. “since none of you losers wanna help-“ she starts, climbing over pope’s stunned body and jumping down onto the pavement, her sneakers smacking the concrete. “i’ll just do this myself.”
“um- i know i’m not the plan guy but i’m not really seein’ how this is workin’ out.” john b adds from the front seat, eyeing her suspiciously through the dirty window and she rolls her eyes, a little grin gracing her lips, teeth glinting in the shifty light.
“i got this. ‘kay?” she directs the questions at everyone, but her eyes are still trained on john b’s, blinking slowly as his eyes widen ever so slightly, his whole attitude seemingly changing. “uh- yeah whatever, be safe n’ stuff.” he nods, ignoring jj’s teasing from the backseat.
she gives everyone a once over, returning kiara’s supportive thumbs up with sticking her tongue out, slamming the car door and starting towards the borderline abandoned pizzeria.
she pushes open the door, big smile on her face directed to the only person behind the counter, a boy about her age, his cheeks noticeably redden as he looks her over, he hesitantly returns a little smile as she shoves her hands into the back pockets of her shorts, back arched a little and tits pushed forward as she eyes up the menu overhead.
her eyes are big and innocent as she blinks slowly at the menu, eyes flitting to his once she’d decided. “could i please get a large pizza, deep dish.“ she starts, eyes trained on him intently as he nods, stabbing nervously at the shitty screen, attempting to take her order.
“um- what toppings?” he hiccups out, her eyes widen a little and she pouts her lips a little, looking to the side as if she was thinking. “hmm..” she mumbles, bouncing on her heels a little, boobs practically in his face as she reels of her incessant list of toppings.
“cool. uh- will that be all?” he asks, scratching behind his ear awkwardly as he tries to keep his eyes on her face. “mhm. and a strawberry milkshake, extra whipped cream.” she smiles, rapping her nails against the chipped marble counter, tips of his ears reddening as he processes the order and quickly scurries into the back without another word.
she smirks to herself, pulling out her phone and swiping onto whatever app to pass the time, elbows leaning against the counter as the guy sneaks glances at her whilst sprinkling olives onto her pizza.
sliding her order across the counter to her. “that’ll be $12.95.” he nods, and she smiles, a little too confidently for someone who currently doesn’t even have a cent to her name. “for sure.”
she reaches into her bra, purposely making a show of dipping hem of her tank down to show the lace of her bra. “oh shoot.” she whispers, theatrically patting down the rest of her pockets and sighing when she expectedly finds nothing, concealing her smirk at the way his gaze followed her hands, shamlessly taking up and down her body as she pouted.
“i must’ve forgot my purse..” she mumbles, throwing one hand down at her side, giving her best puppy eyes to the scrawny boy and he goes red, something that seemed to be routine for him. “uh, y’know what, it’s on the house. closing up this shit hole in half an hour or so anyways-“ he coughs up the excuse, clearly a lie but she was thankful anyway.
“really?” she smiles, canines gleaming as she picks up the pizza box, milkshake in the other hand, wrapping her lips around the shitty paper straw and taking an overly suggestive sip, eyes closed and fluttering as she lets out a pleasured noise.
“that’s really good.” she smiles, he’s bright red by this point and she’s feeling a little bad, although she does take pride in making perverted men uncomfortable, he seemed sweet so she left it at that. “see ya!” she turns on her heel, waving behind her as the little bell above the door chimes to signal her exit, sneakers tapping against the concrete as she slides open the truck door again, the smell of freshly baked pizza filling the senses of the starved teens.
“someone order a pizza?”
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whatswrongwithblue · 10 hours
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Alastor Headcannons
Fem cat demon reader in a relationship with the Radio Demon
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SFW
Rosie introduced him to you. Maybe not necessarily with the idea that you two would be romantic, but she saw similarities between you two and knew you would eventually hit it off.
Once you stopped constantly arguing, that is.
The man had been an Overlord for so long and had sworn off attempting romance for an even longer period, that he genuinely did not recognize his feelings for you as romantic inclinations at first.
He knew he liked you. Admired you. And enjoyed your company. Could talk to you for hours about anything and everything. So obviously that meant he wanted to own your soul.
That blew up in his face – almost literally.
He quickly found out there was nothing he could offer you, or do to you, including putting you in harms way, to force you into making any kind of deal with him. He couldn’t make himself do a damn thing to you. And that scared him and made him avoid you for a long time after that.
But when you two did eventually reunite, it was a lightbulb moment for him, and he pretty much immediately started pursuing an actual relationship with you.
PDA isn’t really his thing, besides hand holding and possibly a hand on the small of your back if he’s feeling extra possessive or wanting to show you off.
The biggest exception to this rule is dancing. He loves to take you dancing.
Surprisingly, he really doesn’t mind others knowing you two are an item.
Some might think he’d want to hide it, worried that others would see you as a weakness to exploit but honestly? Who would dare go after something the Radio Demon held in such high regard. Let them try, my dear.
In private, if he’s in a good mood, he’s quite the sweety.
His love language is definitely acts of service and quality time.
He’ll want to start each day relaxing, enjoying coffee and breakfast with you. He cooks. And throughout the day he really enjoys just being the same room with you, even if you’re both absorbed in your own tasks.
In private, if he’s in a bad mood, he’s very distant.
Don’t touch him and try not to interrupt his work.
He’ll still unconsciously show his affection for you by letting his guard down in these moments.
He’ll let his mask slip a little, show you how upset he is when he would never let anyone else know what’s capable of actually getting under his skin.
He’ll be in some disheveled state. Have his jacket off, or bow tie undone, or hair tied back. He’ll have his microphone across the room. Little things to show he’s still comfortable being vulnerable with you but still . . . best not push it because then he’ll get a little mean.
If you’ve accidentally hurt his feelings in some way, then the insults will start. He’ll call you annoying or dramatic, but he won’t raise his voice unless you do first. He rarely swears so when he does, you know he’s completely at his wits end with you or with whatever else has upset him.
He would never ever lay a hand on you.
If he’s really pushed to the edge, his power might be harder to control. Lights may break, his shadow will go nuts on the wall around you, and he’ll even take on a more demonic, imposing form, but you’ll still feel completely safe in his presence.
Have I mentioned how rare these arguments are? There’s a reason why he’s comfortable enough to be in a relationship with you, because 99% of the time, you understand each other perfectly and can calm the other one down.
At the end of a “no touch day” he’ll usually come find you and initiate some type of cuddle. Usually once you’ve already gone to bed.
He’ll slip under the sheets behind you, probably still a little damp from a shower, and either be the big spoon or, if you’re awake, rest his head on your chest while you stroke his ears.
Those ears are mighty sensitive. Not in a sexual way, but it always sooths his exhausted nervous system when he allows you to touch them like that.
That, and your purrs. No lullaby in the world is as potent as the mesmerizing sensation of your purrs when his body is laid close against yours.  
It took him a few months to admit it, but after the first time he told you he loved you; he says it all the time. His mother always told him you couldn’t overuse that phrase if you meant it, so you tend to hear it multiple times a day.
He isn’t fluent in Louisiana Creole, but he knows a few phrases, and will slip into the native accent of his youth and whisper them in your ears when he’s trying to sooth you if you’re the one upset.
He took decades to propose. You never pestered him about it, but Rosie did – and that probably made him take even longer to get around to it than if she had just let it alone.
Neither of you were super into the idea of a big ceremony but then word got out and half of Cannibal Town was asking about Save the Dates so you two decided that while the vow exchange would be short and sweet, the reception would be a fucking party.
NSFW
Sex had not been a part of this man’s life for a very long time.
He’d only been in two brief relationships, once as a teen, and once later to appease his mother, and neither one exactly went well.
Even his rut, which makes most other demons sex-crazed, used to just make him more aggressive and territorial. The physical aspects of it were easy to take care of in private, so he never had to seek out other outlets.
But then you came along and while it still wasn’t as much of a priority for him as it was for you, he still found himself enjoying and even desiring that kind of intimacy with you.
For the first time in . . . well, ever . . . he found himself initiating sex with someone, rather than the other way around, and you found yourself pleasantly satisfied whenever he was in the mood.
Don’t get me wrong, he could still be - and was often - very touch adverse, especially after a difficult day.
But if he’s happy and relaxed and you’re around . . . you two are going to end up under the covers.
He used to hate his tail. He’d even cut it off more than once, but it always grew back. But you liked it and he liked anything that pleased you. And then you started touching it during intercourse and he really liked that.
If the guy has one cum button, it’s you stroking his tail while he’s inside you.
It also really helps that you are so comfortable with your tail and you constantly let him touch it.
He’s definitely a top. Sex is just not interesting to him unless he knows you’re getting off, so it’s either mutual pleasure or your pleasure, but he doesn’t care for anything that involves just his body.
You enjoy going down on him, and it’s okay for him, at least for starters, but he rarely lets you do it for very long. It’s just . . . boring, for him. He’ll compromise and 69 if you’re really in the mood for that kind of thing.
He gets very excited when you’re in heat.
It’s the only thing that can -almost- always override his touch aversion on a bad day.
The idea of you wanting him that much, to the point of it being a near constant physical need for him to be inside you, really gets him going.
He wears out faster than you do, but even after he can’t get it up anymore, he has a multitude of other appendages (fingers, tongue, tentacles) and even some toys that he thoroughly enjoys using on you until you are finally sated.
He’s not one for dirty talk. It makes him uncomfortable, and he finds it distracting. He stays pretty quiet himself during sex, but he loves the needy little moans and whines you make.
He does bite.
And slap your ass.
He’s not usually one for restraints or whips, but he does enjoy marking you with his teeth and claws. Again, this man wanted to own your soul, so he’s going to enjoy leaving physical reminders all over your body that you are his.
His rut is much harder to handle now that he’s sexually active.
And he’s very different in bed when he’s in a rut.
That’s when he dirty talks.
And that’s when he really gets rough.
You have on more than one occasion been face fucked to the point of choking and tears.
And those shadow tentacles really come out to play during that time of year.
They’ll be wrapped around your body, your neck, limbs, etc. They’ll fuck your mouth, your ass, any part of you that his cock isn’t in. He wants you completely controlled and filled up by him when he’s fucking you in his rut.
And he can go for a very long time. Multiple times. You learned after the first year to just plan on taking a vacation that time of year because really, other than eating and sleeping, he pretty much demands that’s all you two do.
He can sometimes lose control of his power and his bodily form during sex.
You’ll know when he’s close to climax because those antlers get massive and his eyes tend to go black. And if he’s in a rut, he can get a little  . . . big.
Like, all of him. His entire body. But also yes, his dick gets larger then, too.
One time, you were just about to say you were getting stretched a little too much down there, and his weight was starting to crush you, when he literally broke the bed. That’s all hot and steamy in romance novels, but you just about broke your tail that night and ended up nearly impaled by the bed frame.
Another time, he got his antlers stuck in the backboard of the bed and that was even more embarrassing for him than breaking the actual bed had been because it took him so long to calm down enough to control the size of those things and meanwhile you had just been pinned beneath him and laughing hysterically at the very horny, very frustrated, very stuck husband of yours.
He’s a self-inflicted insomniac and doesn’t let himself sleep much, so after sex, he tends to pass out next to you and when he finally wakes up, he usually insists you join him in the bath or shower for some aftercare.
He’ll help clean any wounds that haven’t already healed, massage your overworked muscles, and verbally check in with you that he didn’t take things too far. Especially since after a rough rut-induced session, he gets awfully insecure about the things he did to you in the heat of the moment.
Of course, you’re always happy to ensure him that you really enjoy that side of him and you’ve never felt like he’d taken anything too far with you.
(P.S. These are some ideas I worked through on what this ace-spectrum Overlord man would be like in a committed relationship for my upcoming OC wife x Alastor fic. I’ve been working on it for weeks now and am just about ready to start posting. It’s been very difficult writing him truly in character while also navigating meeting my OC, coming to terms with his feelings for her, and how he would behave as a partner/husband. For this post - so that it can be its own standalone work - I’ve changed all the wording to Y/N, with the only specifics being that Y/N is a cat demon. But if you really enjoyed this, I hope you’ll stick around for The Fire in the Sin. It’s going to essentially be all of the above turned into a novel, that’s half prequel and half current events for Hazbin Hotel.)
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chrxnicdaydream · 1 day
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Domestic skk where Dazai gets home later than usual from the agency. It’s not uncommon for him to arrive home after Chuuya when he was working a case, but it definitely wasn’t the norm.
As Dazai slipped off his shoes and coat, he listened for any sounds that may indicate where Chuuya was.
Even though he was pretty sure he already knew.
He padded towards their bedroom and stopped with his hand on the knob. He pressed his ear to the door, listening for familiar, soft snores, but not hearing any.
He quietly slipped into the room, unsurprised to see that the lamp was still on, but not expecting to see Chuuya’s eyes closed.
The redhead was sitting up against the headboard, arms crossed and eyes closed. There was a poetry book on his lap, still open to where he’d been reading.
Dazai felt that fond smile he could never seem to mask play at his lips, and walked closer.
The light of the lamp cast shadows that accentuated the sharp angles of Chuuya’s face. His brown lashes brushed against his strong cheekbones, and a sun-kissed bronze was spread across his upturned nose.
Chuuya was all sharp edges with an unrefined personality. And that’s just how Dazai liked him.
That crudeness that had so grated on his nerves when they first met. That crassness that couldn’t be dulled by nice clothes or Ane-san’s influence.
Chuuya was unapologetically Chuuya— untamable.
Dazai watched as his partner’s brows pinched, and his bow-shaped lips twitched downward before parting.
“What’re you staring at, shitty Dazai?”
Dazai’s smile widened. “Just wondering how long you’re going to keep feigning sleep,” he hummed as he turned away to change into his pajamas.
“Wasn’t sleeping,” Chuuya grumbled, one eye peeking open as Dazai slipped into bed and curled up next to his leg.
Dazai nuzzled into Chuuya’s toned thigh, releasing a contented hum as Chuuya’s hand started carding through his hair.
He felt the rhythmic shift of Chuuya’s body in time with his breathing, and let himself relax knowing he was safe. Secure. Cared for.
Because Chuuya wasn’t all sharp edges. Deep down, there was a layer of kindness to him. Deep enough that it wasn’t immediately apparent.
Deep because it’s part of the foundation of who Chuuya is.
Dazai considers himself one of the lucky ones, getting to witness this kindness firsthand.
Chuuya always waited up for him, no matter how tired he was, or how long of a day he’d had. Some instinct to make sure every member of his pack was accounted for— probably leftover from the sheep.
My loyal dog.
Dazai hid his smile in the fabric of Chuuya’s pajama pants.
“Oi. I can feel you smirking, bastard.” Chuuya stopped his hand to pull on Dazai’s dark waves.
Dazai whined in protest. “Chuuya’s so mean to me.”
Chuuya scoffed, voice rough with the need for sleep. “Right, so mean that I even made you crab for dinner.” He slid down the headboard to lay on his pillow. This way, he was nose to nose with Dazai— hot, toothpaste-fresh breath fanning Dazai’s face and strawberry-blond curls falling into his face. “How awful.”
Dazai lifted a hand to brush the hair out of Chuuya’s eyes, gently tucking it behind his ear. “How awful,” he agreed. “Makes me want to die.”
Those piercing blue eyes stared back at him. “I’ll be the one to kill you. Shitty Dazai.” Chuuya’s threat was punctuated by a long yawn.
Dazai tutted. “Sleepy Chibi.” He grabbed Chuuya’s hand and started massaging soft circles into his palm. Just the way he knew Chuuya loved.
Sure enough, Chuuya let out a content sigh as the last bit of tension seeped out of his body.
“S’nice,” he mumbled as he started drifting off. Dazai merely hummed.
“Such strong hands that carry so much,” he whispered, bringing Chuuya’s knuckles to his face & pressing his lips against them tenderly. “Let me hold this for you.”
Chuuya’s breath evened out, and soft snores filled the space between them. Night after night, that snoring had been Dazai’s white noise, and he bit his lip to restrain the sudden impulse to pinch his partner’s cheeks in an act of cuteness aggression.
Instead, he snuggled up close to the redhead, burying his face in the crook of Chuuya’s neck.
Dazai reached over and turned off the lamp, feeling his heart swell when Chuuya nuzzled his face into Dazai’s hair. He pressed a kiss to his jugular notch, then let the soothing cadence of Chuuya’s snores lull him to sleep.
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celestialwhoree · 2 days
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𝐒𝐚𝐲 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧 𝐆𝐨 - 𝟔
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You're not sure whether asking Nikto how he worked out what your favourite foods are is a good idea. Realistically, you know that men in his field are required to be perceptive, to pick out the smallest of details which may be useful later. He's been in your house so many times, in your fridge for a left over slice of pie, or the less that you can barely consider a garage to grab whatever tool he'd needed to fix your wobbly fencepost. On the one hand, his awareness of you, what you like and dislike, is comforting. It feels safe to have someone so constantly tuned in on your frequency. Safe. On the other? Having someone so impossibly attentive to your needs is unsettling. It's been far too long since you've had someone shadowing your day-to-day life - and Nikto is, undeniably, like a shadow.
The picnic is - it's really sweet. Well intentioned. The execution, admittedly is rudimentary, but you're just splitting hairs. A guy set you up a picnic after you practically sucked off his face in your kitchen. You're pretty sure most would've run had they felt the sheer reverence, the need in your kiss. He fixed your fence.
Now you're sat rather awkwardly beside one another, picking at a strange assortment of cheeses and fruits, making stilted conversation as you watch a herd of cows graze a couple of fields down.
"How did you know my fence was broken?" You hum in an absent, obvious attempt to keep the conversation going. Tough considering you barely know anything about Nikto, and yet he seems to know everything about you. Your weak endeavour towards filling the stillness between the two of you obviously doesn't go unnoticed - nor does the way your make an effort to dig deeper and see just how much of you Nikto actually catches.
"You hit it with your car a few weeks ago." He states bluntly, leaving you flushing a beet red. Foolishly, you'd always believed that your sub-par driving skills were just imagined, that no one saw you the way you saw yourself. Clearly, you've been wrong all along.
"You do have your drivers license, yes?" Nikto continues to chide, unable to help the way his blood rushes south when you blush, fluttering your lashes as you avert your gaze to the strawberry you'd been just about to eat. "Mhm." You mumble, trying to feign an indignant look - futile, seeing as he's already caught you in the act of your embarrassment.
"I can help you if you would like." Nikto utters, before he too turns his burning face towards the gingham blanket he'd found whilst trawling the grocery store in the small hours of this morning, trying to be as prepared as possible for your date. He's far too quickly become accustomed to your little quirks and reactions, the way you flinch like a frightened bunny from loud noises, or worry at your lip when you're nervous but still trying to seem nonchalant. You're hardly ever nonchalant about anything. He sees that too. "Is it the car that you struggle with?" He tries, so desperately, to claw himself from the hole he's seemingly fallen into, painfully aware that he's probably coming off as some condescending, patronising prick. He knows you can drive. Kind of. However, the thought of helping you, spending time with you, taking all of the menial tasks of daily life out of your hands, he can't help but to yearn for it. Or maybe it's just you. You're the one thing he finds himself wanting for after a life of solitude. You, your silly little shoes, and strawberry flavoured lips, your bows and pearls. You with a smile so bright it's blinding, and a laugh that could bring the cruelest of men to his knees. You are what he yearns for. The silver lining to the rainclouds which have so long darkened his days. You, you, you.
He doesn't even realise you'd been talking until you stop. Only, of course, to take the next best course of action towards capturing his attention, shuffling towards him until you're sat flush against his side, blinking up at him with a look that clearly suggests that you're asking for permission. The fact that he doesn't get hard right then and there is a miracle - though he's not sure if it's one that'll last. At least, not when you finally work up the guts to crawl up into his lap like a needy cat, searching for attention by any means possible. Last week he was barely refraining from tearing your clothes off and taking you on the counter in your kitchen. This is far more intimate. This is what he wants.
He wants to see the way your cheeks flush pink when his hands slide up your skirt, just enough to brush the calloused pad of his thumb over the delicate lace of your underwear. With bated breath, he wants to watch the way the late afternoon sun turns your hair into a halo of molten metal, cascading from the crown of your head in some glorious inferno.
The little sound of your breath hitching as he noses at your jaw is only the first nail in the cruelest of coffins, burying him alive under the crushing weight of his adoration for you. This, he thinks, this is what he's waited for. This is both his reward, and his punishment for the toil of his career, of his life. His reward, you, so sweet and soft in his lap, pliable as gold, glittering as the brightest of precious stones. Breaking you, breaking your pretty, trusting heart, is entirely out of the question. He'd rather shoot himself in the kneecaps. Walk headfirst into enemy territory and beg to be tortured. Step on a landmine. Any and all of it would be better than seeing you hurt.
Whilst he can't find the words for the way he adored you, he can most definitely find the actions.
Nothing, no man, has ever made you feel the way you do as Nikto eases you to lie back on the picnic blanket, hooking your knees over his shoulders. A kiss to your inner thigh. "I hope you don't mind people hearing, Princess. I intend to make you scream."
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bluebirbo · 3 days
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Breaking Down Moments From The Trailer
oh man, it’s been a while huh? the hb trailer came out a while ago but I figured it’s still relevant enough to talk about so that’s what I’m doing. I’ll simply be speculating on things that got my attention in the trailer!
starting with
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these two scenes clearly take place in the same episode and in the same location. I’m not 100% sure that big shadow is Andrealphus but I think it’s safe to assume it’s him based off of what we know. I believe this is also the same area we saw the Octavia leak take place so I think there’s a good chance we see her side with Stella’s family in a fake out “turn to the evil side” scenario
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on a similar note these two scenes of Blitzo and Millie fighting don’t seem to take place in the same episode. now I’m not saying this based off the location but off of the outfits. unless the characters do a quick change between fighting I think it’s safe to say we’re going to see a plot line of Millie and Blitzo having disagreements/fights through out AT LEAST two episodes of this season
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this is pure speculation but I’m like ninety nine percent sure that this is Tilla. It’s very exciting that we might get to see her after so long but she’ll also probably get the Barbie Wire treatment if not worse so…
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I’ve seen a lot of theories over who this fiery guy could be but I think the correct guess is the wrath sin, Satan. why he’s saying “you’re a disgrace” I have no clue. at first I assumed he was in the same room as Mammon and was scolding Stolas but Stolas isn’t in that scene (as stated very clearly)
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i DO think that these two scenes are related and probably take place in the same time as the Mammon one. the railings with the snake and apple pattern appear in both. they also use the same template of blobby background characters if that will help prove my point at all
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Octavia, you poor sweet summer child. she deserves so much better than what they’re gonna give her. on a more positive note though, I do really like that they’re keeping the star motif she’s had throughout the show
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this is so dumb I can’t even talk about it. Verosika get outta there girl, you actually have a well explained reason to say Blitzo sucks, not this overdressed owl
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no clue what this guy is about. he has the same marking on his chest that Blitzo has on his bell. we know that bell came from Tilla but that’s about it. if anyone has any theories I’m open to hearing them
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the too many villains thing is really showing in this trailer. now not all these characters are necessarily villains but all of them will cause at least some struggle for our main characters. that’s seven in total (eight if you’re counting Stella and her brother separately and six of you group the cherubs and dorks together). all of this is supposed to span across only five episodes. that isn’t mentioning any internal conflict or joke time. the writing team is gonna have to work overtime to fit everything in
that’s all I’ve got to say. I could break down the trailer frame by frame but I don’t have the energy for that. I can’t wait to see everyone else’s thoughts as we progressively get closer to the release date of Full Moon. thanks for reading and I’ll see ya next time!
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pin-k-ink · 1 day
Note
for haikyuu thirsts, atsumu drunk and choking reader while overstimulating them, not caring if they ask him to stop or slow down (reader likes it, duh)
orrrr bokuto "just the tipping" but he can't help how good it feels and goes all the way
ardor // miya atsumu
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tw ⇢ mention of alcohol consumption, needy!tsumu, praise kink, unprotected sex, asphyxiation, overstimulation, cunnilingus, fingering, squirting, mention of pregnancy
wc ⇢ 2.4k
a/n: i wanted to write for bo so bad but i felt like atsumu deserves his own fic since osamu got one too. i’ll write a longer one someday
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Atsumu stumbled through the doorway, the apartment quiet except for the faint sounds of a TV playing in the living room. A lopsided grin spread across his face as he spotted you curled up on the couch, eyes glued to whatever show was on the screen.
He paused for a moment, drinking in the sight of you looking so cozy and at home in his space. Your hair was pulled up in a messy bun, a few stray strands falling around your face. The dim lighting from the TV cast flickering shadows that danced across your features as you nibbled absentmindedly on your lower lip, completely absorbed.
Atsumu's heart swelled with a fierce tenderness. After being surrounded by raucous teammates all night at the MSBY Black Jackals' end-of-season party, coming home to find you here waiting for him made everything feel right in his world again.
You jumped slightly when he finally shuffled further into the room, head swiveling towards the noise. "Atsumu? There you are." You blinked a few times, taking in his rumpled appearance and glazed eyes. "Geez, what time even is it? The team party must have been really fun if you're just getting back now."
"Not much fun without ya there," he slurred, kicking off his shoes in a haphazard trail towards the couch before flopping down beside you. He immediately nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your comfortingly familiar scent. "Couldn't stop thinkin' about ya all night, babe."
You laughed softly at his drunken antics, giving his disheveled blonde hair an affectionate ruffle. "Is that so? Well, I'm just glad you made it home safe."
Atsumu pulled back reluctantly, hands coming up to cradle your face as he studied your features with an intense yet unfocused gaze. His thumb stroked along the curve of your cheekbone as his eyes roamed hungrily over you.
"Have I told ya how gorgeous ya are today?" His voice was low and rough with longing. "Because ya are. Stunning."
You felt your cheeks warm at his unabashed admiration, suddenly very aware of your casual lounge wear and lack of makeup compared to how you'd been dolled up the last time he had seen you a few days ago.
"Once or twice," you murmured back, trying for a teasing tone to hide your self-consciousness. "But I don't mind hearing it again."
Atsumu's lips curved into a slow, heated smile at your words. He leaned in closer, movements heavy and intoxicated yet brimming with yearning. You shivered at the feeling of his warm breath fanning across your skin as he paused, just inches from your mouth.
"Then let me show ya how much I mean it..."
His lips finally met yours in a searing, hungry kiss that left you dizzy and aching for his touch. Months of long separations and lonely nights apart came pouring out as you clutched desperately at him. Your fingers threaded through his silky hair, pulling him even closer until there was no space left between your bodies.
What started soft and tender quickly grew more heated and frantic, like a dam finally bursting under the relentless pressure of long-restrained passion.
Their kisses deepened, growing hungrier and more desperate with each heated exchange. Atsumu's hands roamed reverently over your body, mapping out the curves he had committed to memory yet could never get enough of. You arched into his touch with a soft whimper, craving to be even closer.
He obliged by pulling you fully into his lap, the new position allowing no space between your bodies. One of his hands threaded into your hair to angle your head how he wanted while the other pressed firmly into the small of your back, keeping you flush against him.
You could feel the hard planes of his chest through the thin fabric of his shirt, and yearned to rid yourself of the barriers between you both. Your fingers toyed with the hem of his top before slipping boldly underneath, seeking out the heated skin below.
Atsumu's breath hitched at the feeling of your fingertips gliding across his abs and he pulled away from the kiss, breathing ragged. His eyes were dark with arousal and his gaze was fixed firmly on your kiss-swollen lips.
"I wanna taste every part of ya," he growled, hands clenching involuntarily where they rested on your hips. "Every inch. Wanna hear ya moan my name over 'n over again until it's all ya can remember."
You loved the way he always seemed to know exactly what you craved, pushing boundaries while still treating you like something precious. A shuddering gasp escaped your lips when his tongue delved deeper, stoking the simmering fire between you both.
Atsumu growled low in his throat, the vibration sending sparks dancing along your nerves. Without breaking the searing kiss, he deftly maneuvered until you were stretched out beneath him on the couch. His solid weight pinned you deliciously in place as you arched shamelessly against him, desperate for friction.
"Babe..." he groaned when you nipped at his full lower lip. "Need you...so bad..."
You tugged impatiently at his shirt, wanting nothing more than to run your hands all over his bare skin. His mouth left yours briefly to allow the fabric to slip over his head, and then he was pressing feverish kisses down your jaw and neck, leaving no part untouched.
His large, calloused hands slipped under the hem of your loose tank top, caressing the sensitive skin of your stomach before slowly pushing the material up and exposing your torso to his hungry gaze. Your nipples hardened when they met the cool air, and you whimpered as his hot mouth began to make its way further south, stopping to lavish attention on the delicate curve of your breast.
"So gorgeous, babe," he breathed, the heat of his breath and the brush of his lips on your skin making you tremble.
One of his hands palmed the neglected mound while his mouth teased the nipple, teeth scraping lightly over the pebbled flesh before his tongue swirled and soothed. The contrast between sharp and soft had you panting and writhing, your fingers tangling in his hair.
Atsumu took his sweet time, working you over until your legs were quaking and you could barely stand it anymore. Just when you thought you couldn't take it anymore, he switched his attention to the other side, his free hand trailing fire over the sensitized skin his mouth had just left.
When he finally moved on, your nerves were singing with electricity, his every touch and whisper sending shockwaves rippling through you. The ache between your legs throbbed insistently, begging for attention. You whined in protest when he began moving away, your body craving the delicious pressure of his weight atop you.
Atsumu grinned up at you from where he had settled between your thighs, his face flushed with arousal and hair sticking up from where you had pulled and tugged on the strands.
"Don't worry, babe. Gonna give ya exactly what ya need..."
Your breath caught in your throat at the lustful promise in his tone, the anticipation only heightening the thrill. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of your shorts and panties, slowly sliding the two pieces of clothing down your legs until you were completely exposed to him.
His gaze raked over your nude form with unabashed hunger, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. "So fucking beautiful."
You felt your face flush at the raw desire in his voice, and shifted restlessly under the intensity of his gaze. He held your eyes as he lowered his head to press an open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh, his tongue flicking out to taste the soft skin.
"And ya taste so fuckin' good too," he groaned, licking his lips as if savoring the taste.
His hot mouth made its way higher, and higher, until he was nosing along the crease of your thigh, so close to where you desperately needed him yet maddeningly far.
"Atsumu, please," you whimpered, hips bucking slightly towards his mouth.
He chuckled at your obvious impatience, the puff of air sending sparks of pleasure dancing across your sensitive skin. "Always so eager for me, huh babe?"
Your only response was a wordless whine, and Atsumu finally took pity on you. He buried his face between your legs, tongue delving eagerly into the wet heat. A moan of pure relief tumbled from your lips as he began lapping greedily at your dripping core, like a man starved.
You writhed helplessly against his mouth, fingers scrabbling for purchase in his messy locks. The pressure inside was building, coiling tighter and tighter, and the only sounds in the room were your panting gasps and the wet noises of Atsumu's ministrations.
And then, suddenly, he stopped.
"N-no!" you cried, unable to stop the plaintive sound from escaping.
The bastard actually had the audacity to chuckle at your indignation, the sound dark and sinful as his eyes flashed up to meet yours.
"Shhhh, babe. Be a good girl and stay nice 'n still for me, alright?"
Before you could respond, he ducked his head once more. But instead of going back to work on your dripping center, Atsumu began to explore your folds.
"Gotta get ya ready for me, babe," he murmured, voice muffled against your skin. "Can't wait to fill ya up 'n fuck ya on the couch."
You whimpered at the dirty words, unable to form a coherent response as his mouth worked over you, alternating between soft kitten licks and broad strokes of his tongue. He traced every crease and dip, mapping out your most intimate parts with an almost reverent attention to detail.
When you felt a long finger slip inside, you could no longer hold back your moans. He pumped in and out, curling upwards with each thrust and stroking over that hidden bundle of nerves. Soon another finger joined, scissoring and stretching your tight entrance, preparing you for what was to come.
By the time a third finger slipped inside, you were a writhing, whimpering mess. Every muscle in your body was tensed in anticipation, hovering right on the edge.
"Please, Tsumu," you panted, hands scrabbling at the couch cushions, "I'm so close..."
Atsumu groaned and doubled his efforts, pumping and curling his fingers with purpose. His hot mouth sealed around your throbbing clit, tongue lashing relentlessly over the swollen bud until your entire world narrowed down to that single point of contact.
The pleasure coiled tighter and tighter, spiraling higher and higher, until finally it snapped, sending you toppling over the edge. You threw your head back with a loud cry, eyes squeezed shut and toes curled in ecstasy. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over you, the intensity nearly overwhelming.
Atsumu kept working you through your orgasm, drawing it out until the pleasure was almost too much. When you finally came down from your high, body trembling and skin flushed, he slowly withdrew his fingers, giving one final lick to your dripping core.
You opened your eyes blearily, dazed and satiated, and watched him rise up from between your legs. He had a cocky grin on his face, clearly pleased with the effect he'd had on you.
"Enjoy yerself, babe?"
You could only manage a breathy laugh in response, still coming down from the intense high. Atsumu stood up from the couch and tried to shuck off his jeans and boxers, nearly stumbling over in his inebriated state.
Your eyes drank in the sight of his chiseled torso, broad shoulders, and toned arms, and followed the line of dark hair down his sculpted abs until your gaze landed on his straining erection. It was long and thick, curving upwards and already slick with pre-cum.
Atsumu noticed you staring and grinned, stroking a hand over his length. "Like what ya see, babe? Ya want it?"
You licked your lips, nodding eagerly.
"Ya gotta ask nicely, babe," he teased, eyes darkening with lust as he continued stroking himself. To goad you even further, he gently tapped your mound with the head of his cock, leaving a very prominent stain of his precum on your skin.
"Please, Tsumu," you murmured, voice low and sultry. "I need you inside me. Need to feel you stretching me open, filling me up..."
A low groan rumbled in his throat at your words, and he wasted no time positioning himself between your spread legs, rubbing the head of his cock along your soaked slit.
You gasped when the tip breached your entrance, the stretch already making you feel deliciously full. Atsumu gripped your hips tightly, fingers digging into the soft flesh, and began to slide slowly, torturously, inch by inch.
It was almost too much, the overwhelming sensation of his thick length stretching you open and filling you so perfectly. Your inner walls clenched down tightly, as if trying to draw him even deeper.
"Fuck, yer so tight, babe," Atsumu groaned, voice strained. "Feels so good, ya have no idea..."
Finally, he bottomed out, hips flush against yours and every inch of him sheathed inside. You moaned at the feeling of being completely filled, your walls fluttering around him.
Atsumu braced his hands on either side of your head, caging you in. The heat in his gaze was almost enough to burn you.
"Yer mine, babe. All mine."
"Yes, yes, I'm yours," you whimpered, arching against him and seeking more friction. "Now please, fuck me, Tsumu!"
He smirked at your breathless plea, fingers curling around your neck so he could kiss your mouth once again, tongue sweeping into your mouth and swallowing your moans as he pulled his hips back and snapped them forward.
Your cry was muffled against his lips as he set a relentless pace, pounding into you with deep, hard thrusts. The sound of skin slapping against skin mixed with your moans and his grunts, filling the room.
One of his hands slid down to grip your hip, fingers pressing bruises into the soft flesh, while the other kept its grip on your throat, just enough pressure to send sparks dancing across your skin. You couldn't move, couldn't do anything but take everything he gave you, and it was the most exhilarating experience.
The coil inside you was winding tight again, and Atsumu could tell from the way you clenched around him. He leaned down to growl in your ear, grip tightening around your neck until you were gasping for air. "You gonna cum for me, pretty? Go on. Cum for me…"
And that was all it took for the tension to snap, a tidal wave of pleasure washing over you. Your back arched off the couch, eyes squeezed shut and mouth open in a silent scream as the orgasm ripped through you.
Atsumu showed no signs of slowing down, and the sensation was almost too much. Each thrust sent jolts of pleasure-pain shooting up your spine.
"Too much, Tsumu," you pleaded, trembling from overstimulation.
He didn't answer, merely tightened his grip on your neck and increased his pace, the sloppy wet noises of his cock slamming into you even louder now.
"Tsumu!"
He released your throat suddenly, and the rush of oxygen sent your head spinning. Atsumu gripped both your hips in a bruising hold, lifting them slightly so he could hit a new angle, and then his rhythm was faltering, thrusts becoming erratic.
"Fuck, babe, gonna cum," he gasped, the veins in his arms straining as his grip tightened. "Gonna fill ya up so good, make ya all mine."
His words sent another spark of arousal through you, and you felt your walls clenching down on him. With a few more desperate thrusts, he slammed his hips forward one last time and emptied himself inside you, thick ropes of cum painting your insides.
You could feel his cock twitching and pulsing, the sensation sending you careening over the edge for a third time. Your body was shaking and trembling, every muscle quivering and the velvety walls of your pussy undulating around him as you gushed and sprayed your juices all over his abdomen.
As you came down from the high, the full realization of what had just transpired slowly dawned on you. Atsumu had been too intoxicated to think about protection, and his release had spilled deep inside you.
"What if you got me pregnant?" you asked worriedly, propping yourself up on an elbow.
"Would be the best day of my life," he replied instantly, a lazy smile curving his lips as he rolled onto his side and gathered you close.
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fallenclan · 2 days
Text
RAVENSTAR’S APOLOGY
A fic by buttercup-unlimited :3
Author’s note: Here’s me drabbling for a while. Sorry if I get any lore/pronouns wrong, I’m trying my hardest but I am very tired 😭
The cave was vast and looming, the cracked rock face seeming to climb endlessly into the inky blackness above. A single word could echo dozens of times around these walls, spreading like a whispered rumour into the ear of another. The air hung heavy with bitter cold and silence, spare the eerie rustling of shrubbery from the clearing and the occasional warning call of a nearby bird.
Leaders of Fallenclan’s past only ever tended to use part of the intimidating space as a sleeping den, preferring to make their nests in a smaller corner and keep warmth in for as long as they could. Goldenstar infamously allowed kits to play in the space he left unused, simply stating that whatever was his, was the clan’s. Even Maplestar picked merely a decent chasm to curl up into, never needing anything more. Every leader that had come before, in fact, hadn’t dared to flaunt such a cathedral all for themselves.
But Ravenstar was nothing like the leaders that had come before. No, he was stronger. Smarter. Shrewder. Grander. The day that he had received his nine lives, Ravenstar had returned to camp to make a very deliberate show of slowly building his nest, twig by twig, in the very centre of the den. A statement, if you will, the marking of what was very clearly now his territory. His eyes had glowed in a strange sort of way that day. Forebodingly. If you looked close enough, you just might have seen the rush of power going straight to Ravenstar’s head. Leadership had that effect on some cats.
Littleleaf had been there. Every day, since they were born, Littleleaf had been by Ravenstar’s side. He had watched him through his apprenticeship, arguing with his mentor at even the most trivial of things. Older cats would often say that he was a strong-willed fellow, well suited for a powerful position one day. If only they had known who he would become.
Ravenstar had lost everything except Littleleaf. The two brothers were the only thing tying one another to reality, saving each other from fluttering away in the breeze—like a leaf under a rock, safe…and yet stifled.
“Ravenstar?”
Even the name bore a sense of importance, of tension. Littleleaf regretted the call as soon as he had uttered it, not helped by the constant repeat of his word as it travelled up the gossiping walls of the cave. He felt so small, so insignificant, in this place. Something about its legacy was an all-too-cruel reminder of the fleeting nature of existence—Littleleaf almost felt as if he could drop dead right there, on the ground, and it would only be a flashing moment in time.
He took a few tentative steps forward, careful not too make too much noise on the cold stone floor. Most of the den was hidden in shadow, daring any cat who wasn’t Ravenstar to even attempt to venture further.
“Do you have any time to talk? I have some news…” Littleleaf tried again, cringing at how easy it was to boom in these chambers.
“News? This should be interesting.” A voice drawled from behind him, causing Littleleaf to flinch as he turned. Ravenstar had perched himself on a jutted-out rock somewhere high up the wall, his tail tucked neatly over his paws as he observed.
“Oh, hello. You frightened me, brother.” Littleleaf chuckled nervously. Something about their relationship, usually so close and easy, had felt strained as of recently. It was no longer so easy to approach Ravenstar.
The Fallenclan leader smiled, eyes glinting maliciously. His black pelt blended in perfectly with the shadows of the rock face, almost like they had belonged here all along. This was Ravenstar’s home now, and there could be no dispute about that.
“Sincerest apologies. I’m waiting…?” The leader mewed coolly. It was clear that he had no time for small talk, not even with his kin.
“Right. Of course. Well, we weren’t sure when to tell you, but…here we go.” Littleleaf took a deep breath. It was awkward, trying to give news to someone several feet above you. “Moorthistle is expecting kits. You’re going to be an uncle.”
Boom.
A million thoughts seemed to rush through Ravenstar’s head all at once. The coolly composed tomcat, usually so calm and purposeful in his mannerisms, seemed to struggle to maintain his balance from his vantage point as he took in the news. His facade flickered, just enough for Littleleaf to notice, and for a second or two Ravenstar was just a confused young tom again.
“Kits.” Ravenstar repeated, bright eyes darting to just about every corner of the den. “Kits, belonging to you and to Moorthistle. In Fallenclan.”
Littleleaf nodded distractedly, craning his neck to get a better look at his brother. “Yes, I…are you alright, Ravenstar? You look rather shocked.”
Ravenstar seemed to snap back to attention all of a sudden, jolted back to life by the attention of his brother, momentary crisis over as soon as it had began. He straightened his neck, focused his gaze and gave his chest a few calming licks, whispering something inaudible to himself.
“Yes.” Ravenstar eventually replied, keeping his answers concise and dry—he was back to normal, indeed. “I’m fine thank you, brother. I was taken by surprise, is all.”
Littleleaf nodded. “Alright, then.”
There seemed to be eons of silence between the brothers, both unsure of what to say next. When did it become so hard to conversate?
It was only when Littleleaf seemed to be on the verge of turning and leaving that Ravenstar spoke again, blurting words in a hurry as if in an attempt to make him stay.
“This is very good news, Littleleaf.” He mewed loudly. “More kin for you and I. More kits for Fallenclan. I’m sure…I’m sure that they will grow up to be fine warriors. May Starclan bless you.”
Littleleaf knew the words were intended for comfort, but all he could find within himself to feel was hurt. Why was his brother, so high and mighty now on his pretentious throne of rock, speaking to him as if he were any other old aquaintance?
“Why do you hold me so far from your heart, brother?” Littleleaf asked before he could stop himself. He wished that he had stayed silent, seeing Ravenstar’s false smile drop. The last thing he needed for himself and Moorthistle was tension with the leader of their clan.
Ravenstar narrowed his glowing eyes, looking bemused at best. “What exactly do you mean?”
Littleleaf shook his head, suddenly feeling very warm under the roasting heat of Ravenstar’s gaze. “I didn’t mean anything. I was just thinking out loud, really, don’t listen to me…”
Ravenstar did not look convinced. As if deciding something to himself, the sleek black tom began to leap nimbly down to meet his brother on the cave floor. Was he going to berate him? Banish him? …Hug him? Littleleaf wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.
They stood face to face for the first time in what felt like moons. Equal, it appeared, if only for a moment in time. Littleleaf often forgot that he was larger than his brother—because, in so many other ways, he was not.
“I…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” Littleleaf apologised, trying to back out of the hole he had dug himself into. He had never believed Ravenstar guilty of the crimes some suggested he had committed, but he didn’t intend on finding out if the accusations were truthful tonight.
“No. I’m the one who should apologise.” Ravenstar insisted suddenly, taking Littleleaf by surprise. “I… am sorry, brother. “
Littleleaf practically sputtered. This was the first time he had ever been apologised to by his brother, and most probably the last. He felt that the occasion should become an annual celebration.
“I know I have been distant, as of late. Partly because of my new duties, but also…” Ravenstar let out a laboured sigh, full of tension and grief that Littleleaf didn’t even know he possessed. “I care very much for you. More than you know. But it’s difficult for me. I see so much of them…in you.”
Littleleaf didn’t need to ask who his brother was referring to. “I see them, too. Everywhere.” He half-whispered.
Ravenstar held up a tail to silence his brother—an old leader tactic used to indicate that he was not yet finished saying his peace.
“I wanted to protect you. Show you how strong I could be on my own. I wanted to be the best I could be for you, Littleleaf. I am sorry if this meant sacrificing the time we used to spend together.” Ravenstar confessed. It was clearly difficult for the leader to talk about his feelings for such a prolonged period of time.
Littleleaf stroked his tail along his brother’s back comfortingly, the way he had when they were kits. “Thank you.” He murmured.
Ravenstar inclined his head. “I am happy for you, Littleleaf. You will make a great father. And perhaps…perhaps I will make a great uncle.”
Littleleaf wasn’t sure what to say. Was there anything he could say?
Perhaps, in this fleeting moment in time, all Ravenstar needed was a shoulder to lean on.
(Beetle note: THIS IS SO GOOD!!!! i love the exploration of Raven and Little's relationship,,, its so awesome)
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aynavaano · 14 hours
Text
Tell me you want me
Hunter x f!reader
Rating: Explicit/NSFW
Wordcount: 3.5k
Summary:
You’re part of Clone Force 99 since a while and have an eye on your Sarge ever since you joined. When you are left alone with him skinny dipping in natural hot springs, things get steamy.
Notes:
Enjoy this little Hunterxf!reader smutlet while we all anxiously wait for the final episode to drop. Reader is part of the squad, she is their medic and has a nickname. All other Batchers make an appearance too. We have fingering and unprotected sex. All happening in the water.
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As the sun begins its descent, casting long shadows across the landscape, you and the squad finally retreat back into the Marauder, weary from another grueling day of repairs after your crash landing a few rotations ago. Dropping your tools with a clatter in the corner, you sink down onto the floor, feeling the exhaustion seep into your bones. The day's work has left you covered in a film of sweat and grime, your skin sticky with oil and dust, again.
"If I have to endure one more shower with that recycled water, I swear..." you mutter under your breath, frustration lacing your words. Despite the pressing need to fill up your rations and change the water in the Marauders system or at least the filters, there was no way off this kriffing rock before you got the ship back up and running. The overly recycled water, depleted and stale, left you feeling far worse than without a shower since the last days.
Suddenly, Tech's voice cuts through the exhaustion, his tone matter-of-fact as he suggests an alternative. "There are geothermal hot springs just a couple of clicks south from here, they are perfectly safe to utilize for personal hygiene," he remarks, drawing everyone's attention.
Wrecker's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "So that's where you've been sneaking off to in the evenings," he says, earning a knowing nod from Tech.
"Why didn't you mention THAT before?" you inquire, taken aback by the revelation. Tech shrugs nonchalantly.
"Nobody asked me and you all seemed content with the ship's refresher,besides I didn’t sneak off I just went there, " he replies simply, earning an eye-roll from Crosshair and a sigh from Hunter.
"Well, looks like we're all going tonight," Hunter declares, scanning the room as everyone nods eagerly. However, Tech interjects with an apologetic tone.
"Except for Echo. I'm sorry, but the mineral composition of the water isn't compatible with your mechanical parts." Echo sighs resignedly.
"Well, Someone has to watch the ship anyway," he remarks, grabbing a ration bar before retreating to the cockpit.
Watching him leave, Hunter urges everyone else to gather their essentials as you prepare for the trip to the hot springs.
Following Tech's lead, you traverse through a dense thicket of trees and across a rugged terrain, the distant plumes of steam already signaling the promise of warm, rejuvenating waters.
When you finally arrive at the steaming natural pools, happiness surges through your veins, eager to immerse yourself in the warm, relaxing waters. You swiftly cast your bag aside and quickly shed your clothes, opting for a skinny dip - a necessity, given that swimwear isn’t something provided by the GAR. But the night is dark enough to conceal your naked body, the dense steam rising from the water further obscuring any view.
As the squad's medic, you've seen them in various states of undress during countless check-ups or emergencies, but you've managed to maintain your own privacy, determined not to stir up any trouble within the group. However, you can’t deny that you have a weak spot for your Sergeant ever since you joined them and enjoyed patching him up a bit too much.
The sound of water splashing nearby interrupts your thoughts, and you turn to see Wrecker paddling around eagerly. "Come on in Mini, it's amazing. We won't peek, I promise," he assures you with a boisterous grin. You chuckle at the affectionate nickname he gave you a while ago, and the others quickly adopted, not wrongly, given that you are barely more than half his size.
With a contented sigh, you lower yourself into the soothing embrace of the hot spring, feeling the tension melt away from your weary muscles. The clean, refreshing sensation of the water provides a stark contrast to the sticky residue left behind by the Marauder's recycled water and it feels incredibly good to finally get rid of it.
Occasionally, a gentle breeze disperses the swirling steam, offering you fleeting glimpses of your crew mates. Your gaze lingers on Hunter, captivated by the droplets cascading from his tousled hair, now freed from his bandana. You trace the lines of his tattoo down over his broad chest as they disappear beneath the surface of the dark water. Despite your best efforts to remain discreet, you find yourself locked in a momentary exchange of gazes with Crosshair, his piercing eyes betraying a knowing awareness.
Your breath catches in your throat as Crosshair maintains his gaze, his lips curling into a sly grin. Wrecker interjects, attempting to diffuse the tension. "Cut it out, Crosshair. You're making her uncomfortable. We promised not to look," he scolds, casting a wary glance in your direction.
“You did” Crosshair hisses at Wrecker before turning his attention back to you, his tone teasing. "Like what you see, Mini?" he quips, his confidence evident, that smug bastard you think to yourself and attempt to muster a confident response in return, but the slight tremor in your voice is betraying you. "Nothing I haven't seen while patching you all up," you retort, hoping to deflect his attention.
“Sure” he groans with a mischievous glint in his eyes but thankfully, he decides to let the matter drop, and you exhale a silent sigh of relief, sinking deeper into the warm embrace of the water, trying to hide your reddened cheeks. Casting a fleeting glance skyward, you marvel at the sight of two moons ascending over the horizon, casting a serene silvery blue glow over the landscape.
Before long, Tech emerges from the water, signaling for the group to prepare to depart. You, however, are reluctant to leave the comforting embrace of the hot springs just yet.
"Already? Can't we stay a bit longer?" you plead, attempting to negotiate for more time.
"It was ample time to get clean," Tech responds, his tone firm. "And we have another full day of repairs before we can leave this planet. You need at least seven standard hours of sleep to—"
You cut him off, feeling frustration bubbling up. "Stop it, Tech," you interject firmly, your disappointment evident.
"I'm only concerned for your well-being," Tech counters, his concern genuine.
"I know, I'm sorry," you answer, softening your tone. "I didn't mean to sound so annoyed. It's just... I can't remember the last time we had something like this. I'd like to soak in the warm water a bit longer. My whole body is sore from our crash, and this feels so good," you explain, hoping to convey your genuine need for relaxation.
Tech hesitates. “I understand, but it’s too dangerous to leave you here alone, besides the way back to the Marauder is …”.
"It's okay, Tech. You go. I'll stay here with her," a voice rings through the thick steam from behind you.
Hunter.
Your heart skips a beat at his unexpected offer, a rush of warmth flooding through you at the thought of him and you being here alone.
It takes a moment for the rest of them to processes his proposition. Finally, Tech breaks the silence "That is an acceptable solution," he states, his usual pragmatic tone cutting through the night.
Relieved you allow yourself to sink back into the soothing warmth of the hot springs, the steam enveloping you like a comforting embrace. In the background, you hear the others bustling about, dressing and gathering their belongings. Amidst the activity, you catch snatches of conversation and you could swear you heard Wrecker grumbling that he also wants to stay, interrupted by a sharp retort from Crosshair.
"Alright," Tech announces, drawing your attention. "We're heading back. I'll leave the comm open in case of unforeseen events. Regardless, please remember it is not recommended to stay longer than two standard hours in water with this temperature" and with that, the group begins their trek back to the Marauder, leaving you and Hunter alone in the quiet of the night.
As the sounds of their footsteps fade into the distance, a slightly uncomfortable silence descends, punctuated only by the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze. It’s not the first time you’re alone with Hunter, but THIS, this is different and you are trying to control your heartbeat knowing very well that he can pick that up with his heightened senses.
“Thank you for staying with me Hunter” you whisper through the thick steam wafting over the pool. The thought of him naked in the water, just a few steps away from you sends a shiver through your whole body and you feel the heat pooling between your legs.
Stars, stay calm you try to control the visions overtaking you, flashes of his naked body and his hands all over you flickering through your mind.
You try to catch another glimpse at him past the billowing steam and through an opening you see him slowly treading through the water towards you, his eyes locking on yours, a look of concern on his face. The water reaches barely up to his lower stomach, exposing an ungodly amount of his luscious body, his caramel skin, toned chest and a tempting trail of hair running down his abdomen now illuminated by the silvery glow of the moons, you can’t break your gaze away but you are close to loosing control completely now.
“For someone happily relaxing in a hot bath your heart rate is concerningly high. Are you uncomfortable? Did you change your mind, do you want me to take you back to the Marauder?”
“No, I…I want to stay” is all you can stumble. Him being so concerned and caring is only adding fuel to the fire already burning inside you.
Hunter is right before you now, scanning your face for any signs of distress but the only thing he finds is your bright pink cheeks and dilated pupils.
He carefully brushes a loose strand of your hair from your face, his hand lingering a bit too long to go unnoticed.
“Is this because of me?” he whispers softly, a hint of trepidation in his voice. He lost count of how often he wanted to ask you this, when he felt your heart jump at his touch, when he sensed your eyes lingering on him, but he didn’t dare, knowing a no would destroy him. So he decided to remain oblivious instead of getting hurt. Until now.
You gaze up at him and there is no denying anymore, no hiding, so you nod, not able to voice what you feel for him. That you want him so badly.
And before you know whats happening his lips are on yours. His kiss is soft but quickly getting hungrier and messier. He pulls you closer to him sliding one arm around your waist and you intuitively wrap your legs around him feeling his already hardening cock pressing against your core.
He gasps at the sensation of you grinding your hips against him and breaks away from the kiss, looking deep into your eyes.
“Tell me you want this," Hunter's voice is a low, urgent whisper, his breath hot against your skin. "Tell me you want me."
You lean back in to kiss him, desperate for his lips on yours and hungry for more but he breaks away again, searching your face for an answer.
“I’m your Sarge, I don’t want to take advantage of you, I need to hear you say it. Say you want me and I’ll give you everything.”
Your heart pounds in your chest as you meet his intense gaze. "I do, Hunter," you reply without hesitation, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want nothing more than you."
Before you can even finish your words, he pulls you closer again, his arms wrapping around you possessively. The warmth of his embrace fueling your hunger for him and when his lips crash against yours in another searing kiss, you melt into him completely, his tongue trailing along your lips pleating for access.
Your tongues entwine and Hunter's touch feeds the fire within you, every caress sending sparks of heat coursing through your veins. You feel his hands hungrily roaming over your body, down your chest, gently cupping your breasts, leaving a trail of longing wherever they touch you.
His hands slide down to your hips, one hand cupping your ass, pulling you closer as his lips trail down your neck, leaving a line of open mouthes kisses and soft bites in their wake. With each movement, you feel yourself melting into him, your body craving more of his touch and your pussy aching desperately for his attention.
"Stars, you feel amazing," Hunter murmurs against your skin, his voice husky with desire. "I've been wanting this for so long."
A soft moan escapes your lips at his words, the sound mingling with the gentle lapping of the water around you. You feel his fingers trailing down to your throbbing core and you can't help but arch into his touch, desperately yearning for more.
He carefully slides his fingers between your slick folds, teasing your clit with a slow gentle rhythm that leaves you gasping for breath. Each stroke sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, quickly building a tension that threatens to unravel you completely in his arms.
He keeps you steady, his strong arms easily holding you up, the water flowing around you, fingers trailing through your slit and finally with a slow, deliberate motion, he slides one finger inside you, giving you a taste of what you so desperately want. You gasp at the sensation of him entering you and arch into his hand, aching for more friction.
"Stars, you're so wet for me," Hunter whispers, his voice low and breathless.
You can't help but beg for more, craving the sensation of him deep inside you, filling you up completely. And as he picks up the pace and slides in another finger, you feel your body tightening, getting ready to explode with pleasure.
"Kriff, I love how responsive you are to my touch." he whispers in your ear, nibbling on your neck.
You let out a few lewd moans and gasps at his words, the sensation of his fingers driving you completely crazy. With each thrust, you feel yourself spiraling closer and closer to the edge, the pleasure becoming almost unbearable in its intensity. The tension in your core almost reaching it’s snapping point, two fingers pushing inside you and his thumb rubbing your clit.
And then, with a flick of his wrist, Hunter finds that perfect spot that sends you hurtling over the edge, your body convulsing with the force of your release. Waves of ecstasy wash over you, rippling through your whole body, leaving you trembling in the wake of your orgasm as you cling to him for support.
“Stars, do you know how beautiful you look cuming all over my fingers?” he moans against your skin, looking at you as if you’re the most precious thing in the galaxy.
He slowly slides his fingers out of you to steady you against his chest while you catch your breath. You let out a low whine when he slips out of your core, leaving you feeling empty, and immediately desperate for more. You fumble around trying to reach his cock but he firmly holds you up, both hands under your thighs, his face buried between your breasts.
“Hungry, are we?” he grins up at you, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth and sliding his fingers over your wet folds aching to be stretched again, drawing a couple of lewd sounds from you.
You tilt your head back when he captures your other nipple between his teeth and finally pulls you closer until you're straddling him in the water, your bodies pressed together in a heated embrace. You feel the pressure of his rock hard cock straining against your core, fueling your hunger for him even more.
"I need you," you whisper, your voice barely above a breathless moan, impatiently wiggling around in his arms to line him up at your entrance. When he carefully bites down on your neck, leaving a mark, while squeezing your breast with one hand, you are completely loosing any kind of self control, you might as well just beg.
"Hunter, kriff…please…fuck me"
He looks up finding your gaze and without a word, he guides himself inside you with a single deep thrust, his huge cock stretching you in all the right ways as he fills you completely. You gasp at the sensation of your pussy stretching around him, your body arching into his as he begins to move, each thrust giving you more of what you’ve been longing for ever since you joined the squad. He starts slowly, not far from teasing you, pulling out almost completely a few times, until only his tip rest inside you and then slamming back in until he is buried to the hilt.
The water around you amplifies every sensation, the gentle rocking motion only adding to the intensity of his thrusts. He increases his pace and with each push of his hips against yours, you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak, your pussy already clenching around him.
“Fuck, not gonna last long like this” he groans “ …y..you feel too good around my cock…so tight…been dreaming about this too often…”
"I'm close," you whimper, your voice barely above a desperate plea. "Please, Hunter, don't stop."
With a low growl against your neck, he increases the intensity, each thrust pushing you further towards the brink of oblivion. You cling to him, nails digging into his back, grinding your hips against his, to take him as deep as possible until you feel the tip of his cock deliciously pressing against your cervix with every thrust. You wrap your arms around his neck your fingers finding hold in his hair, as you begin shaking, and with a shuddering gasp, you feel the tension in you snap and the first wave of pleasure crashing over you with an intensity you haven’t felt before, stars exploding before your eyes, your whole body trembling as you ride out the waves of your orgasm on his cock without slowing down.
He keeps fucking you through your high, drawing more moans and gasps from you until you feel him tense too, his length pressing even harder against your walls.
“Where do you want me?” he gasps.
“Inside” is all you can get out with a loud moan, your pussy still clenching around his cock and you feel Hunter's own release echoing yours, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm. With a final thrust, he spills himself inside you, filling you to the brim with his warm cum as you both ride out the waves of pleasure ripping through you together.
You cling to each other, panting, your bodies pressed together in a sweet embrace as you bask in the afterglow of your lovemaking. You let your fingers trail through his hair and softly trace the lines of his tattoo looking at him in awe, completely blissed out. He let’s his forehead rest against yours and you are exchanging soft loving kisses when you suddenly hear your comms crackle from somewhere beside the pool.
“Hunter are you listening… Hunter…Mini… “
“noooo Tech…leave them” you hear clattering and a voice in the background
“Hunter do you hear me? Even though Crosshair suggested you are not solely bathing but possibly engaging in intercourse I recommend you get out of the water. The time you spent there is unacceptable and will negatively affect your blood circulation. Mini… I’m sure you know that, you’re the medic. Do you hear me? It’s clearly been too long. Get out of ther…” the comm crackles again, weird noises and mumbling in the background until you hear Crosshair.
“Sorry for the interruption Sarge, I couldn’t stop him, just give us a sign when you’re headed back” and with that the comm falls silent again.
You can’t help but blush, feeling a bit exposed before the whole squad not even knowing where this is going or if it was just a one time thing. You desperately hope it’s not, when you said you want him, you meant it but you’re to afraid to ask how he is feeling, so you just revel in the heat radiating from his body drinking up every scent, every detail while it lasts, legs still wrapped around his waist, holding him close, fingers trailing trough his hair. Hunter nestles his head in your neck, pulling you even closer to his chest, leaving a few soft kisses along the way while his softening cock is slowly slipping out of you.
“Let’s get back to the Marauder then” he murmurs against your skin, “at least it seems they already suspect whats going on and appear to be ok with us being together…sleep in my bunk tonight?”
Your heart beams at his question, pounding in your chest.
“Guess that’s a yes” he chuckles, giving you one last loving kiss before he sets you on the edge of the pool to get ready for heading back to the ship.
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not-quite-graceful · 2 days
Text
Hey, um… with the whole “Bluejay!Jason” concept… has anybody ever considered it as an Inkheart reference instead of just a play off his name?
Follow me here, and sorry in advance, this turned into a ramble.
In the second book of the Inkheart trilogy, Inkspell, one of the main protagonists adopts a Robin Hood-esque approach to defeating the tyrant king, and adopts the name of ‘The Bluejay’ from famous folk legends and songs written by a beloved poet and often sung by travelling minstrels. He’s -Inkspell spoilers ahead, though this book is unironically older than I am- known for toppling said tyrant’s throne through the binding of a magic book (a recurring theme throughout the series, if you’ve never read it, which you should). He’s a champion among the Motley Folk, who were that world’s equivalent to a travelling circus and also regularly aid him in his quest to topple the Adderhead (the tyrant king mentioned above), and sought to help the poor and downtrodden. The Bluejay is aided and abetted by his family and friends, which include a shapeshifting wife, a daughter with the ability to make anything she reads come true, a fire-dancer who can speak to the flames, and a knife-throwing 'circus' prince with a black bear companion. (They're not called the Motley Folk for no reason, people!)
Now, consider for a moment: Little Jason Todd, in the local library, absolutely devouring the Inkheart series. It's everything a little kid could dream of in a fantasy book! And there's three of these fat books, what more could you possibly want? And he has an excuse to sit in a warm, safe building for a few hours.
Now imagine, Inkspell becomes his comfort book. Of course it does- every kid had one, and I can't imagine an orphan who grew up alone on the streets of Gotham picking anything other than a story about a strange man helping the opressed and downtrodden in a land he grows to call his own with the help of his family- and The Bluejay is an excellent father to his daughter, too, of course Jason pictured himself as part of that family, as whisked away into that world.
And of course, the rest of the series is wonderful too -Inkheart is where it all began, after all, and Inkdeath is the final triumph over evil!-, but Inkspell is a story about becoming. About learning to be more than you were born as- after all, if Mo the simple bookbinder could become the hero The Bluejay, what could Jason the street orphan become?
Maybe, instead of discovering this book in a library, he found it in the trash. And maybe he wondered, as he read it, why anyone would ever want to throw away the tale of Mo the Blujay, of Meggie the Silvertongue, of Resa the brave swift, of Dustfinger the loyal Fire-Dancer? (And maybe the last one took a while to get there, but he did get there! Eventually! And maybe Jason can understand why it took Dustfinger so long to truly come to trust someone again, because trust is a terribly dangerous thing to give to someone, because you can never really know what they'll do with it.) Maybe he read it through without knowing anything about Capricorn or The Shadow or why they feared the man named Basta, because they hadn't thrown away the first book, only the second. Maybe he wept for the death of Dustfinger, at the very end, because he didn't know that Death wouldn't keep him, because they hadn't thrown away the third book.
Maybe Inkspell found its place among his most treasured possessions. Maybe, when he met Batman and Bruce Wayne in one night and his life changed forever, Inkspell came with him, with its familiar story and characters and world and sorrows.
Maybe one of the first things Bruce did, upon seeing Jason reading that same battered old paperback, was to order Inkheart and Inkdeath and leave them in his room. Maybe that was when Jason started to realize that he wasn't going to leave forever.
(Maybe Jason and Dick would play Motley Folk together, because Dick was in the circus and could most certainly throw knives, even if it gave Bruce a heart attack every time he saw it.)
And maybe, after he could no longer have Robin, he remembered that old paperback book, that old story and that old world, and he thought of a new name for himself.
Bluejay, he thought, as he picked up the book that had been his constant companion for so many years. I'll be The Bluejay.
(I don't really know what this is. I saw some Bluejay!Jason art the other day and just started thinking of the Inkheart trilogy and the fact that Jason would absolutely have read it and probably loved it. And then it spiralled.)
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actual-bill-potts · 3 days
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PROMPT TIME can I have some m&m and “enduring grief and anger in silence” please!!
hehe yes beloved <3
TW for discussion of death and funeral practices
Nelyo had not cried once after Atar’s death.
He had wept, bitterly and without comfort, after Atyarussa had died. There had been a kind of grim satisfaction in Tyelko’s face; Curvo and Moryo had been silent, Curvo tall and straight at his father’s shoulder; Minyarussa had simply stood, swaying, eyes so bright he looked like a sick animal. Makalaurë’s own eyes had been dry; he had been full of fear so hot he felt as though he were burning along with his youngest brother, and in his mind only one thought had circled, round and round like the wheels of an organ-grinder: at least one of us is now safe.
But Nelyo had cried and cried, doubled over on the ground like he was playing again on Atyarussa’s little drum-set, and Minyarussa had stared at his shaking eldest brother with a dull sort of relief on his face. Atar had half-heartedly said, “Get up,” then shook his head and strode away as Nelyo behind him gasped, “the baby, our littlest one - the baby -”
He had raged at Makalaurë, after. “Why did you not weep? Little Atyarussa! My brother the musician, composer of dirges, can still weep for a pet rabbit lost these hundred years, but not his smallest brother, who we were as fathers to -”
“You were, perhaps,” said Makalaurë, not caring that he was being cruel, not wanting to think about it, “but I had other matters to attend to. In any case, brother, at least he is not here.”
Nelyo’s face had frozen in open shock; but all he had said was a quiet, “It should have been me.”
Only - only now Atar was gone, and it seemed to Makalaurë that some rotted abscess within him had torn open and was draining, for he could not stop crying. There was grief for the father who had lifted him upon his broad shoulders when he was tiny, and swallowed his dislike of the Vanyar long enough to send Makalaurë to Valimar for tutelage - for a little - and taught him his letters. And there was grief for the days of his youth, the bright happy house and his mother’s unshadowed eyes; and finally, finally - where had it been before? - there was grief for his littlest brother, for whom he had fashioned a little violincello and whose piping voice had lifted with him in duets.
It was his turn, now, to lift his voice in mourning; but Nelyo was silent, and refused to help spread what they could gather of Atar’s ashes in the fields that were taking shape by the lake, laying him to rest as close to Cuiviénen as they could manage. He and Minyarussa stood on and watched, twin shadows of Ammë.
Does she grieve for us, he wondered. Will she know he is dead, and did not know whether he meant Atyarussa, or Atar, or himself.
But after, Makalaurë could bear it no more. “Why will you not weep for him? Our father is dead!” he demanded in a whisper in their tent. And then, pouring out of him, “you wept more for Findekáno, who is alive! Atar will not see the hills of Tirion on Túna again, nor Finwe his father; he is Doomed, and all of us with him! Will you not weep! For us, if not for him!”
“He murdered my brother,” said Nelyo, quite casually, “why should I weep? As for the rest, we have been Doomed a long time since, and I shall not grieve twice what I was commanded not to grieve once. I will fulfill our Oath; is that not enough?”
Makalaurë blinked back tears, again, and said, “Not for me; where is my brother?”
“He died on the ships,” said Nelyo; and they did not speak again until the messenger from Moringotto came.
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damn-stark · 1 day
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Chapter 37 Strong heart
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Chapter 37 of Sugar
A/N- I hope you guys like it :) I liked writing this chapter
Warning- Swearing, ANGST, FLUFF, violence and blood, talks of DEATH, and pregnancy, flashback, SPOILERS!!!! long chapter!
Pairing- Choso x Gojo!fem-reader, Suguru Geto x Gojo!fem-reader
Episode and or chapters- Chapter 243 to chapter 253
(Let me know if you want to be tagged)
————
Choso’s not responding, why is he not responding?
You take a step closer but stop out of fear that you’ll meet up with a corpse.
“Ch…” You trail off in a quivering voice and continue watching his unmoving body.
Please don’t be dead. Please don’t be gone, please…
You force yourself to go to him, but you head to him slowly because your fear of losing him is polluting your mind. After all, when you found Suguru last year he was on the ground, bleeding out, barely alive, and missing an entire arm. What if you come across that horrifying scene again, but this time you don’t even get to say goodbye?
“Choso?” Your voice comes out hoarse as your need to cry weakens it. “Choso?”
You cast a shadow over him as you stop a foot away from him because you’re scared if you get too close you won’t hear him breathe.
“Choso?” You basically plead.
And this time, at last, you catch his fingers shift on the ground—but! Does that mean he’s okay? You see a lot of blood staining his clothes, and two giant fist-sized holes on the back of his vest.
Choso then slowly lifts his head and you hold your breath when you meet his honey-imbued eyes. He mutters your name as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing, and his pupils dilate as he keeps watching you with the rays of the sun shining around your head like a glorious halo.
You step closer and pull the worm cursed-spirit off your shoulders to try and crouch, but Choso pushes himself up and that’s when you freeze completely because of the two gaping wounds you see close to his side. You can’t see through them, it seems like they went all the way through since there’s holes on his back, but there’s raw flesh now that makes his wound look like two dark voids.
“Choso,” you gasp.
Said man doesn’t seem to believe you’re real, he just studies your face as if he’s admiring some painting for a lingering moment before he lunges forward and throws his arms around you.
And you can't believe his chest was moving with signs of life, that you're actually looking into his pretty eyes until you feel his warmth and his strong arms around you. “Choso,” you whisper in disbelief and cling onto him.
“My love,” he whispers. “You’re okay. You’re safe, you’re back to me.”
His voice is so comforting, so soft and soothing. You wish you could say it kills the fear you felt clinging onto your heart, but you won’t stop being afraid about his well-being until you’re walking out of this fight hand in hand.
“You’re alive,” you point out to yourself. “Why didn’t you answer me? I was calling out your name?”
Choso pulls back and grabs onto your jaw to tilt your head and then step back to study your body for any wounds he might’ve missed.
“I’m okay,” you assure him as you watch his eyes roam your body. “We’re okay, Kenjaku didn’t even touch me.”
Choso’s eyes snap to you and he doesn’t seem to believe you, so you grab his hand and yank it down to put over your belly. “Remember you can feel them. They’re okay, yes?”
Choso holds your gaze as he searches within himself for the confirmation over the twins' status. And once he’s assured that they’re okay just like you told him, he sighs with relief and once again holds your face with both hands to check you out one more time.
“I’m okay,” you whisper and caress his shoulder with a sweet smile.
He lets out a deep breath and nods in comprehension, and as he stays attached to you, you slip your hands down to his chest with a smile still glued to your face, and then shove him back with your face quickly twisting to show your anger.
“You scared me!” You scold him. “I kept calling out to you, I texted you twice and you didn’t answer me. I thought…I…” you trail off and swiftly turn on your heels to catch your breath and stop yourself from crying.
You already cried so much today, that you don’t want to keep crying.
“I’m sorry,” Choso quickly tries to comfort you. “I just didn’t want you to see me hurt. I wanted to heal before you got to me, I’m sorry,” he whispers those last two words as he grabs your shoulder.
You turn your face away and lift your hand to gnaw on your nail. “How…how did it happen?” Your voice comes out muffled.
Choso sighs. “Sukuna surprised me. He was too fast, I tried to use piercing blood, but from one second to another he was before me and jammed his hands through me.”
Any higher and he would’ve hit his core, and his heart, Choso was close to death, he could’ve died. You were close to being a widow once again, you were close to having to live without him.
“I should’ve been more careful,” he adds sincerely.
Yes, and no. He was just trying to help the best he could, he didn’t expect to get hurt the way he did, but you can’t help but be upset because he was so close to death.
“You,” you spat and snap your head around to pierce your glare at him, but when you meet his guilt-filled eyes, when you see the life in his eyes your anger falls and your relief completely takes over, making you throw your arms around his neck instead.
“I’m happy you’re okay,” you whisper in his ear. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”
Choso balls your clothes as he grabs onto your back and breaks the truth. “We’re still not done yet.”
Your breath trembles, but you don’t let his comment bring you down. “I know but let me just appreciate you’re okay for now.” You say and snuggle your face in the crook of his neck.
Choso hums and keeps holding you for as long as you need until you remember what you have and pull apart with a smirk. “I have something I need to give you,” you clue him in even though he might have an idea.
You then walk over to pick up the worm cursed spirit and drape him around your shoulders before you reach towards his mouth. “Now, I’ll tell you what I told Shoko, I’m sorry for the way it’s brought over, I just didn’t want to carry this around in my hand,” you tell him and pull out the jar with Kenjaku’s brain. “This is yours,” you let Choso know, and assure him that his father is gone once and for all. “You and your brother can rest easy now that he won’t be roaming this earth.”
Choso clenches his jaw and anger passes behind his eyes, but it’s all then quickly replaced by relief, and then lastly sorrow that brings tears to the corner of his eyes. And you can’t imagine it’s sorrow for his father's death, he hated his father, so it must be sorrow born from joy more than anything; joy that at long last a monster who terrorized him, his brothers, and his mother is finally gone.
It was all thanks to you.
“Your mother and your brothers can rest now too,” you tell him softly. “He won’t torment anyone anymore.”
Choso looks at you and his eyes gleam with awe and joy. “Thank you,” he muses as he takes the jar. “Thank you for doing this for me and for my family.”
You offer him a gentle smile and reach over to wipe a tear off his cheek. “You welcome and if it wasn't just me, it was Okkotsu too, but you are welcome.”
Choso grabs your hand to give it a gentle squeeze, and as he holds your gaze the love he has for you only heightens and grows more passionate and tender. He also thanks the stars and fate for letting your paths intertwine.
“What will you do with it?” You ask Choso, making him snap from his stupor to glare at the brain with a seething anger.
“Burn it,” he sneers, “and then I’ll disintegrate those ashes until there’s nothing left. I don’t want to give him even the slightest chance of coming back, especially not now that we're going to have children.”
You hum and nod in comprehension.
“I wish I could do it now,” he grumbles, “but it seems we don’t have the time.”
He looks up at you and pushes the jar towards you. “Can you keep it safe until I can get rid of it?”
You take the jar from his hand and assure him without hesitation. “Of course I can.”
You return the jar to the Worm so he can keep it safe within him for now.
“Did you…” Choso pauses, making you look back at him with a soft curious look—“recover Suguru Geto’s body?”
You blink in surprise and avert your gaze to nod. “Yes,” you respond quietly. Again not out of shame, you just don’t know how much you should talk about Suguru with Choso.
“Shoko says she can mend the wounds we left him and get rid of the those nasty stitches Kenjaku left,” you share with a faint smile, and when you look over you see Choso struggling to keep his eyes on you.
It’s probably just as awkward for him as it is for you.
“That’s good. Satori will be able to look at her father one last time without thinking about Noritoshi,” he says what you thought about too. “And you,” he pauses. “Will be able to put him to rest too.”
You sigh and nod. “Yeah,” you mumble. “I know…It’s not weird, is it? Talking about him?”
Choso keeps his eyes on his hand clutching onto his wound and blinks before he shakes his head. “No…it’s just…strange, but it’s something I know shouldn’t bother me.” He finally looks over at you and looks at you with a guilty look. “Don’t think you have to avoid talking about him in front of me…I understand he was your husband. You loved him.”
You hold his gaze as you feel your heart envelope in warm bliss and awe that could almost mend your shattered heart.
“You’re sweet,” you coo and grab his chin with your thumb and pointer finger to lean in and press a gentle peck on his lips. “This is why I love you.”
The corner of Choso’s pink lips tug up and his hand cups your wrist to caress your skin and send waves of comfort throughout your aching body.
“Now,” you change the subject as you slide your hand over to take his hand. “Why don’t we go sit so you can finish healing before we meet up with Yuji? I have something to show you.” You bounce your eyebrows and flash him a giddy grin.
Choso studies you and this sudden burst of excitement that he knows isn't just caused by anything, there’s a specific reason behind your outburst and he assumes one thing. “Did Satori send you something?”
You walk him toward a nearby wall since there’s no benches anywhere nearby.
“No,” you tell him and peer back at him with your lips and eyes hard to read. “Manami and Toshihisa were going to keep her distracted all day today. I didn’t want to risk having her catch a glimpse of the broadcast. So she’s too busy having fun.” You assume, but you also know that it’s not too far-fetched considering who’s taking care of her.
“It’s something else,” you tease him and sit you both down on the cold ground and press your backs against the wall. “Are you ready?” You only begin to excite him now.
“I don’t know if I should be,” Choso remarks nonchalantly.
You giggle as you pull out your phone and meet his gaze to pass him a giddy look that causes a gleam to spark in your eyes, and makes his heart skip a beat.
“Shoko checked on me after I got back,” you begin to explain to him as you surf on your phone until you find the video you just took of the twin's heartbeat—“and she heard this.”
You press play and push the phone near him so he can see the screen, even if it’s just Shoko pressing the wand against your belly.
At first, though Choso doesn’t seem to understand what he hears, he thinks that the two running hearts are just your own heart racing too fast.
“I don’t—” just before he can express his concern though his mouth goes agape and his eyes widen.
“It’s their heartbeats,” you make it clear so he can process the news faster. “It’s Suki and…”
“…Tsukuyomi,” Choso finishes for you, making you beam at him and nod in confirmation. He then carefully takes the phone from you to pull the phone closer to his ear.
“That’s them, that’s their hearts,” he muses.
You watch as his eyes cloud with blissful tears, and his smile spreads with a tender adoration dancing on his lips.
“They sound strong,” you repeat what Shoko told you. “They have strong hearts.”
Choso tears his eyes away from the video and looks at you with even more tenderness that softens his eyes and makes his eyes glimmer. “Just like you,” he whispers confidently because out of all the things he knows, he knows he’s more than sure about that.
You hear it, the sincerity behind his tone and you can’t help but also redirect it at him. “And you.”
Choso’s smile fills with more admiration and he responds by leaning in and pressing a kiss on your forehead.
You smile softly with glee and take his hand before you rest your head on his shoulder and listen to the video one more time to use that as a sliver of joy in this storm of agonizing sorrow.
After Choso plays the video a couple more times he rests his head on yours and gently squeezes your hand in the silence he keeps. You can’t help but keep smiling as you think about your dream of growing your family, of raising your children the way you wanted to be raised and loving them with your husband who loves you unconditionally.
What more could you ask for—
Oh…
Satoru…right.
No matter what he was always in your future, even if you imagined him distant when you didn’t talk, he was still there in the background of your dreams. Now…where he once was is replaced by a black void that slowly swallows everything and leaves you hopeless for the future.
“Once this is done,” you break the silence to avoid drowning in your grief. “The snakes will lash out at the Gojo clan.”
“What do you mean?” Choso probes a bit confused.
“They won’t accept my daughter as their leader so they’ll try and replace her with one of my male cousins most likely,” you explain and already start to feel irritated.
“Even if your brother left in his will that he wants Satori to be leader after him?”
You nod. “Yeah, one, my daughter wasn't raised with the Gojo’s, two she's a woman, and three her last name is Geto and she didn’t inherit her father's technique.” You sigh but smirk mischievously. “Not like it really matters, sure it’s annoying, but I’ll go chop off a few heads to make them listen, and if Satori chooses not to be leader, well, I’ll take her place and pass on the title to one of our children. Hence following the procession of the clan with my line.”
That will surely teach your family for mistreating you!
You love being spiteful.
“Are you sure?” Choso surprises you by asking.
You pull away from his side and meet his gaze with a serious and determined pointed look. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” you swear.
Choso didn’t want to try and argue or convince you that it was a bad idea, all he needed was to ask if that’s what you really wanted to do. Now that he has his answer he’ll leave it be and let you do as you please and what best suits your daughter, and your brother's wishes because it’s what he would do too if he was in your shoes.
“I know it hasn’t been long, but how’s your wound?” You interject as you turn around to sit on your knees and grab his vest and robe to pull it aside so you can check out his wound yourself.
“I feel better,” he tries to assure you, even if you look at his wound right now and see that it’s still pretty deep. They’re not as deep as before, but they’re not near closing yet. However, you know you can’t reason with Choso, not when Yuji is still in commission, as well as you. You would need to knock him out cold to get him to sit back.
“Cho,” you still try to argue regardless. “I see—”
“I’m okay, I can keep fighting,” he cuts you off a bit harshly so you won’t try and argue again. “Don’t worry about me right now.”
You drop your eyes to the two holes in his flesh and groan before you steal a glimpse at his blood-stained abs and let his clothes go to fall back into his place.
“We should…find Yuji,” you bring up a bit begrudgingly. Only because you wish he’d heal 150 percent.
“That’s what I was thinking,” he says as he stands on his feet.
“That’s what I was thinking,” you mock under your breath as you follow him up.
Alas, he catches you and slowly cranes his head back to look at you with his thick eyebrows furrowed.
You sass him and shoot him a pointed look that makes him scoff before he steps aside to let you walk ahead as he keeps an eye out from behind.
However, he’s not looking out for Yuji, he’s watching out for trouble that might try and catch you off guard. Even if Sukuna is fighting alone and he has no reason to come after either of you unprovoked, it would still be stupid to not be looking over your shoulders.
“I hope you know the moment you get hurt I will throw you over my shoulder,” Choso proclaims, making you smirk and look back at him.
“Oh really?” You say teasingly, causing his eyes to snap to you, however he doesn’t catch your flirtatious smile.
“Really,” he says seriously.
Your smirk deepens and your voice turns silkier. “Why don’t you try it out right now? Just show me how you’ll do it, hm?”
Choso blinks and is finally hit with the realization of what you’re really getting at. “Oh…well…I can show you,” he tries his best to hit you back with something flirty just as smoothly as you.
“I might argue,” you say and come to a stop so he can fall right behind you, to the point his chest grazes your back—“what will you do then?”
Choso swallows thickly and glances at your lips, making you steal a glimpse at his own before you turn around and show him an example with a short kiss.
“There’s one way to keep me quiet or…?” You trail off so he can finish.
“Or,” he trails on as he holds your gaze completely star-struck. “I can,” he pauses and raises his hand to let it hover over your mouth and make sure you’re okay with what he’s doing. When he notices that you aren’t protesting, and keep waiting with a smirk on your face, Choso gently presses his hand against your lips and slowly lets his thumb graze over your bottom lip as he holds your gaze.
Your heart skips a beat with excitement and his pounds, but even as he stands there nervously he still gently penetrates the tip through your lips. When he feels the warmth and wetness of your mouth he shoves his whole thumb in, making you suck gently before you pull away from his touch and laugh.
Not at him. Of course. You laugh with excitement, having forgotten for a moment what tormented you, and steal a passionate kiss that you savor before you press your forehead on his and grab the back of his neck.
Choso lets out a deep breath and cups your cheeks to caress your jawline with his thumb, making you lean your face towards one side to steal one more moment of comfort.
Just a short moment before you both pull away and continue down your path side by side.
After a few moments of walking, you finally come across Yuji on his knees in the middle of the highway with blood spilling out of his mouth. And just ahead you see only a glimpse of Maki and Sukuna before they disappear from your view. But even if he’s gone you still feel a chill run down your spine as you assume you’ll be facing him off soon now that you’re closer in his range…
Soon though, now you focus on Choso and his brother, and with a look alone you press Choso to help his brother.
And even if your husband understands what you mean he still hesitates. “What if I say the wrong thing? He said I’m not good at teaching, I don’t want him to get something wrong because of me,” he pauses and drifts his gaze away from Yuji to look at you with a soft pleading look. “Could you help him, remind him to take it slow?”
You glance at Yuji in distress and do have the need to help him, but if you were him all you’d want is your brother's help, even if it is a smidge of advice.
“He needs you,” you advise Choso. “Just don't over-explain it. Talk to him as if you were talking to Satori,” you say and rub his shoulders, but he doesn’t seem content with that so you come up with one more thing. “Ah! Just explain it to me and I’ll tell you if it's okay.”
Choso swallows back nervously but doesn’t hesitate this time, he draws out a deep breath and brings his hand up to press his thumb on your forehead. “Healing comes from here. All you need to do is just visualize. Watch it spread like roots,” he explains tenderly as he moves his thumb down. “Spread it everywhere and focus on mending what’s really wounded.”
Choso traces the veins down to your hand and stops when his thumb lands on your warm palm. And as he holds your hand his tenderness slowly twists to worry. “Was that okay?” Choso asks somewhat panicked.
You offer him a bright smile and nod. “That was perfect. I’m sure he’ll understand,” you assure him as you grab his hand with your free one to gently massage his palm.
Choso sighs deeply and glances at Yuji, still seeming to be spaced out and distressed on the ground. This time though, without hesitation Choso leaves your side and reaches his little brother.
“Take a breath,” you hear Choso guide Yuji as he presses his hand on his back. “Remember what you were taught. Visualize it. Allow the blood to spread throughout every corner of your body like roots. Visualize an outline of your body made with veins.”
You can’t help but smile in awe as you watch the interaction, as you watch how kind and patient Choso is with Yuji even if this is a moment of distress. You watch him being a caring old brother and once again you’re reassured of the fact that he’ll be a great father, and an even greater partner to raise your family with.
Once again as you watch him help Yuji you can’t help but count yourself lucky for having fate cross your paths.
——
Dear Satoru,
How does one relish in the peace gifted to them after so many died trying to get this far?
I can’t help but feel guilty about being happy and being able to live my life the way I dreamed of. Choso and Shoko tell me I shouldn’t feel bad for the dead anymore, but how can I look at Satori who's a couple of months away from turning 17? How can I look at my twins laughing and playing with their father, my youngest girl Amaterasu clinging onto her father hoping that somehow she could live in his skin so she wouldn’t be too far away from him. How can I watch my youngest son Ryusei get more and more curious about the world without feeling bad for those who sacrificed themselves and couldn’t live past another day of their lives?
I smile, I laugh, I’m grateful, but there’s always that twinge of guilt I feel in my heart—
“Turtle.” A little voice pulls your attention off your paper, and as you look up you see your youngest child Ryusei holding a weird turtle-shaped rock, but his 2-year-old mind has latched on to that word and is labeling everything and everyone turtle because it’s his favorite word of the week along with “no”.
You really hate the “no” phase, all five of your kids had it, so you’re more than glad that Ryusei will be your last child. You can’t handle any more terrible two phases…even if Choso is starting to hint at wanting another one.
You can’t handle it anymore though. As cute as they are and as much as you love newborn phases, all you want now is to just focus on the kids you have and be able to love your man in peace without having any more snotty kids interrupt you—with peace and love.
“No,” you correct Ryusei and take the rock from his hold to look at it because that’s what he wants you to do. “This is a rock. See? It doesn’t have eyes or a shell, silly.”
Ryusei reaches over to take back his rock and studies it as he carries it in his palm. The wheels in his mind spin as he thinks about what you said for a moment before he pouts just like his father, and nonchalantly drops the rock.
“No,” he argues and waddles away,
You hear a giggle behind you and as you slowly look back you catch Satori with her head up and grinning with amusement.
“He showed me his toy and said it was a turtle, when I corrected him he threw it at me and waddled away,” Satori shares between giggles, making you sigh and slouch.
“He’s the most hot-headed out of all of you, I don’t understand why,” you contemplate your child’s behavior.
Satori pushes her sunglasses down to shield her eyes and flashes a grin. “His grandfather. Probably.” She snickers.
“That’s still not funny ten years later,” you grumble and look away, finding the twins, Suki and Tsukuyomi, and your youngest daughter Amaterasu going towards the oceans shore without their father towing behind him, so as curious as to where he went, you drift your eyes away and find him on his feet where they all once were.
“Suki, Tsu, your brother is going over to you, hold his hand,” Choso warns the twins since they’re the oldest, and Amaterasu finds it in herself to argue as if she’s the one that was left in charge of her little brother.
“But the waves are not strong at all!”
She lacks responsibility because she’s the middle child, and she’s never in charge like Satori or the twins, so she’s turned lax.
“It doesn’t matter,” Choso counters his daughter. “He can still stumble.”
“You’re not even in charge Amaterasu,” Tsukuyomi snaps at his sister. “Why are you talking back?”
“I’m just pointing it out!” Amaterasu yells at her brother as she stomps her foot in the water around her ankles—“Gosh…” she trails off and you watch her mouth move as she seems to mumble something under her breath.
You sit back on your hands and watch all four of them with a little smile on your face.
They argue often; all five of them, over little things but they make up like nothing, they apologize quickly and go back to laughing and smiling at each other, and after some desecalations, you can’t help but smile over their bickering because it reminds of you and your brother.
When you were young—no, you argued all the time too, as they do, and made up just as fast. You got older and things happened that kept you two estranged, but you found your way back to each other. You don’t want your children to go through that same strain, but you want them to experience all the good and the bad about having each other. You want them to know that same bliss about having a sibling that you still hold onto all these years later...
You grin and feel tears prick at the corner of your eyes born from joy that you express in your letter.
—but never about my kids. I never feel guilty about having my kids and knowing that joy. They’re my blessings, they’re my everything. They’re the good piece of me, and a piece of my beloved, Choso. They’re even a piece of you, Satoru.
I see you in them all the time, in Suki, Tsukuyomi, and Ryusei’s white hair, in all their unbreakable spirits. So that’s one thing I can never ever be guilty about. Because of them, I feel like I will always carry a piece of you.
Is that cheesy?
Still, I want rid of this guilt annoying my heart like a splinter in your finger that you can’t pull out—
“Look,” Choso pulls you away from your train of thought getting engraved on paper, and first drifts your attention to the shadow he casts over you before you meet his honey-kissed brown eyes looking down at you tenderly—“a mochi I took from Ryu’s snack bag.”
You flash him a smile and take the half he offers you in your mouth. He then takes a seat on the sand next to you and keeps holding your gaze, letting you notice the red tint stamped over his nose and his cheeks.
“Cho,” you point out with your mouth full and lean over to grab his chin. “Did you put sunscreen on your face? You’re getting red.”
Choso blinks and thinks as he keeps looking at you, and when he seems to think back to a specific moment he groans and shakes his head. “Amaterasu needed help putting sunscreen on so I stopped just as I was about to apply some on my face. Sorry.”
You sigh deeply and first finish your mochi before you reach into your bag and pull out a bottle of sunscreen to press some on the tip of your fingers before you lean close to Choso, and gently massage some on his face.
“No matter what you still need to remember to put some on your face. You still burn.” You remind him sweetly.
The corner of his lips pulls to a tender smile as his eyes soften. “Why, when I can have you help me?”
You pause briefly to swoon before you leave a sweet peck on his lips and continue to protect his face from any further burning rays of the sun.
“Do you want some too, Satori?” You tease your teenage daughter in a baby voice.
“No,” she quickly rebuttals. “Thank you. I can put my own on.”
“Oh, but—”
“No,” Satori cuts you off before you can reminisce about her when she was a little girl, making you drop your hands off Choso’s face and pout.
Choso sees your flicker of sadness and strokes your chin.
No matter what though, no one will take away the sadness at watching your little girl only get older—it’s not a bad sadness you lament, you wish for her to only get older, but there’s always something about watching your kids get older that just gets you a little sad.
“She’s always the one arguing and always the one holding his hand,” Choso muses.
You follow his line of gaze and smile softly at the sight of Amaterasu pulling Ryusei up with her to jump over the small wave unfurling over the sand.
The little boy giggles and watches the next wave approaching before glancing at his sister as he anticipates the next wave he’ll jump over.
“Trying telling her that,” you quip lightheartedly.
Choso chuckles, making you look at him and only grin in admiration as his shoulders shake, and the sun makes his brown eyes twinkle as well as highlight that infinite joy he always has when watching his children just doing their own thing.
He always looks at his kids with pride, no matter what nothing takes away that love he looks at his kids with because he never wants his kids to feel the same way his own father made him feel; unloved and unwanted. It’s what makes Choso an excellent father, and it’s why you love having the honor of being Choso’s partner and having him be the father of your kids.
And it’s while you admire him and think about his big heart and the life you’re lucky to share, that you realize the answer to your question, going unaware that even after 10 years Choso has the need to steal glimpses at you to engrave every detail of your face as if it was the first time laying his eyes on you.
….I get it now. The answer to my guilt is living my life for those who died fighting. I’ll love for them and live so their sacrifice isn’t in vain.
Love, your beloved sister.
——
*2 MONTHS AGO*
“What is Gojo’s sister to you?”
“To me?”
The camera focuses on Yuji Itadori holding a half-bitten sandwich, and the person behind the camera nods in confirmation, making the pink-haired boy wipe his mouth and hum as he thinks before he sits up and responds honestly.
“Well to me she once was someone I had a crush on, I mean did you see her in magazines and on runways?!” He smirks and laughs lightly. “But now, she’s like my bodyguard. Gojo—oh our teacher, Gojo asked her to protect me from the people after me, so she turned out to be that which is cool. But you know how they say you should never meet your idols?” He sighs and takes a bite from his sandwich. “Yeah, that suits my situation…” He trails off and his eyes widen with panic, but before he can seem to correct himself the camera cuts off and displays three other students.
“Who is she to me?” Maki Zen’in repeats the question and scoffs with displeasure.
“Salmon!” Inumaki exclaims, making Panda nod as he crosses his arms over his chest.
“She tried killing us last year,” the black and white bear shares with a huff. “And she’s been the only person who’s been able to deflect Inumaki’s technique.”
“I heard she killed some members of her family a few years back,” Maki cuts in and makes the camera shift to focus on her. “She’s also a stain on the Gojo clan. The one fallen from grace, or so they say. I would say I admire her but she tried to kill us so she’s a killer.”
The clip cuts off and now they’re back inside facing Yuji Itadori with his sandwich and a panicked reaction.
“…not that I don’t think she’s not strong!” Yuji finally gets to explain himself before someone gets the wrong idea. “She’s strong and cool! And very beautiful, in Iike, an ethereal kind of way, like if you tell me to think of royalty, that’s who I picture her to be. But I guess it suits her considering who they say she is in the sorcerer community.” He says and flashes the camera a smile, leading to a smooth transition to some courtyard of some shopping center with a short-haired girl in the center.
“How many of these questions are you going to ask me?” Nobara Kugisaki asks as she puts on some sunglasses to block away the sun from shining in her eyes. “Anyway,” she speaks softly and with no ounce of deceit. “She’s someone I can say I admire regardless of all I hear about her because she’s proof that you can be both strong and a woman. She’s proof that we as women in the sorcerer society don’t have to fit into a stupid stereotype. Plus she dresses so cool even when she’s out on missions with Itadori, I want to dress like her.”
There wasn’t even a second of stepping into the dark side of your character, despite all that’s said about you, Nobara spoke from her heart and never thought of holding back to fit in with what others had to say about you.
The same could be said about Kento Nanami, albeit he might have some bias for you.
“First off,” Nanami directs at the camera even if watches the road ahead of him. “She has a name, she’s not called Gojo’s sister,” he scolds the interviewer and instantly counters by saying your full name to the camera before dipping into the question. “And she’s my one and only best friend, there’s no one I trust more than her…” he trails off to push his glasses up his nose and watch the road as he seems lost in thought.
The video may display a few seconds of passing time, but in truth, Nanami took a lot longer than that to continue, and even then he sounds quite pensive when he speaks about you.
“Besides being strong, and a bit egotistical like her brother, she’s extremely loyal, there’s no one you’d want more fighting beside you in a tough situation than her. She’s really a force to be reckoned with,” he says and finally glances at the camera with his eyebrows narrowed.
“Should you really be recording while I’m driving—”
The video is cut off and lastly, there’s one more clip left of a tall man with white hair and dark shades on his face.
“Well as everyone knows she’s my sister!” Satoru says in an almost teasing manner. “My little sister. She’s the only sibling I have, and you know being raised in an important clan like mine brings a lot of responsibility, but she made it all tolerable…” he smiles softly ahead and then he can’t help but smirk.
“I’m strong, the strongest there is, but,” he snickers. “I wouldn't go messing with her. There’s a reason she's a special grade, but she’ll be a pain in your ass, trust me. I wouldn’t underestimate her,” he trails on softly, and if anyone who really knew him heard him, they’d even say that he sounds full of admiration talking about his little sister. They’d also be able to see the softness painted on his face, but he has a good way to mask that to look smug in front of the camera.
“Oh!” He exclaims and claps his hands before he stops and turns, making the camera turn too to face him directly. Albeit he then surprises the camera as he leans in close as if the speakers or the camera wouldn’t capture what he has to say. “Despite what she wants you to believe she’s not scary. Don’t believe that crap,” he laughs and turns the camera off forcing the interview about you to end.
——
*NOW*
“Well,” there’s no avoiding it now or a continuous chance to be a backseat watcher. “Looks like it’s almost my turn…” you trail off and gulp before turning away from the disaster Sukuna and Maki are leaving in their fight.
You’d like to say you’re heading to this fight completely fearless, but your trembling hands and your pounding heart say otherwise.
“No one would blame you if you chose not to fight,” Yuji suddenly interjects, sounding like his big brother. “You have a big reason to stay behind.”
You blink in disbelief and slowly lift your head to watch him watching his hands turned to red claws. He doesn’t look up to meet your gaze when he feels it boring in him, instead, he watches his fists as if trying to find a fault in them.
“I’d blame myself,” you tell him as you approach him. “I’m strong and I’m powerful, but besides that, I’m fighting for something much bigger than myself.” You come to a stop and cast a shadow over his body hunched on the ground, and raise your hand to clutch onto the heart locket Choso gave you, the one that holds a picture of Nanako and Mimiko.
“Sukuna took something from me too,” you whisper and feel your fury boiling inside, but you also feel grief you have yet to really let your heart feel. “He took the girls who taught me how to love full heartedly, he took the girls who made me a mother. What mother would I be if I didn't try and get revenge for what he did? They were my daughters and he took them away.”
You let out a shaky breath, but you drop the tears that came with it. Instead, you actually proceed to meet Yuji’s brown eyes as he finally lifts his head.
“Oh,” he whispers shamefully. “That’s right. I’m sorry.”
You shake your head and crouch down to be at his level. “Keep your head up, kid. He hasn’t broken your spirit yet. You’ll break his. He may be a monster, but there’s still something in there you can crush. I know you’ll find it. You’re strong and brave, and you have a good heart.”
Yuji raises his head and swallows thickly, he parts his lips and seems to search for something within you. When he can’t seem to find what he’s looking for he sighs and mutters. “How did you do it? Find the strength to keep fighting after losing so much?”
“My daughter,” you bring up with hesitation but find it in yourself to try and find something he can relate to. “Considering you don’t have kids, then I’ll say this. I have faith in myself. It gets shaken, but it’s reliable. You have that too, that unbreakable faith. I see it.”
Yuji’s eyes soften and his chest rises as he draws in a deep breath. When his chest falls a half smile tugs on the corner of his lips. “Thank you,” he says hushedly.
You flash him a smile and gently pat his shoulder before you stand to your given height to face Choso who refuses to look at you, but still hangs onto every word you just told his brother.
“Cho,” you whisper and close the gap left between you to grab his arm crossed over his chest to turn him to face you. “Don’t be mad. We talked about this.”
Choso keeps his gaze pierced on the ground, so you lift your hands to grab his face and tilt his head up so you can meet those eyes you love so much.
“You can go pull me out of the fight if I get hurt,” you try to assure him, but his dark eyebrows pinch together and his eyes pierce into you before he retorts.
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
You sigh and he finally unfolds his arms to clutch onto yours. “I can’t be okay with you going to risk your life,” he spills out what he had been keeping inside for so long. “I was okay with you facing my father because he was weaker than you, but Sukuna? He can kill you before I even have a chance to react. How do you expect me to be okay with that?”
You shake your head and counter softly. “I don’t expect you to be okay with it, I’m not okay with you being here either, but what choice do we have? And you heard me just now, my reasons to be here and fight him. You were with me the day I found them, and you were with me every day after that as I’ve mourned them. You know the thirst for revenge too, and you know it’s impossible to sit idly by until you know you’ve gotten justice for the ones you lost.”
Choso's lips curl to a deep displeased frown, and his eyes drop before he groans out of frustration because he knows you’re right. He’s known it, but he doesn’t want to see you go.
“I’ll be okay,” you reassure him as you tilt your head so you can keep holding his gaze, so you can keep holding onto that warmth and keep it within you when you go out there and fight. “I’ll make it back. The twins will be okay. I’ll fight like hell to stay alive, I swear.”
Choso blinks repeatedly to avoid crying, but he can hardly stay strong so he lets his forehead fall on yours, while his grip trembles.
“Please don’t scare me like you did when we fought Noritoshi. Stay alive, I need you.”
Those words are so full of fear for your life, yet so genuine and full of nothing but love. It makes it hard to leave, but you can’t just stay back, you have to fight at least once. You don’t want to die so you’ll fight hard to avoid that fate for him, and for Satori waiting for you to reunite. But if life takes you down that path you can’t stop it, you’ll only hope you were able to give everyone a chance to defeat that great evil.
“I’ll make it back,” you assure Choso against his lips. “To you, my love. I love you.” You whisper with honey dripping off every word and lean in to press a gentle and lingering kiss on his soft and wet lips refusing to let you go. He keeps your lips captured until you gently push back, but even then he grabs your hand with his unbeatable strength and pulls you back towards him.
“Choso,” you warn him softly.
“Just,” he interjects softly but full of desperation. “Let me…” he trails off and lowers his gaze before he presses his palm against your belly.
He doesn’t say anything, but Yuji notices the silence and looks over at his brother finding comfort in the fact that his kids he made with you are safely growing inside you. Yuji takes note of his brother's hand clinging onto your arm, hoping that will be enough to keep you with him forever. He sees his brother's faint smile that mirrors yours because even if the babies are still too small to move, their mere presence is enough to make you both content.
Yuji takes note of the both of you desperately trying to find any excuse to stick close to each other, and can’t help but think that you’re both brave for coming out to fight even if you’re waiting for something so precious that deserves both parents to live without a burden of fighting this nasty monster. Lastly, Yuji watches you and that smile that decorated your face fade before you force yourself to pull away.
“Strong heart,” you try to give Choso courage before you pull something out of your pocket. You don’t show him what you have, instead, you grab his hand and place the object on his palm before pushing his hand towards his heart.
Choso refuses to identify the object just yet to be able to hold your gaze for as long as he can. Even when you look out at the city past the rooftop you’re on and see Sukuna knock Maki out with a black flash, he refuses to lose sight of your beautiful face, hoping that some way, somehow, that would keep you with him where he could protect you.
“Strong heart,” you repeat tenderly as you tear your gaze away from the tragic scene and meet the worried but sweet gaze of the man you love. “Keep it safe until I come back.”
You leave Choso one last kiss before you walk back. When you’re on the edge of the rooftop, when you feel nothing but the air of the world below on the heel of your feet, you force yourself to tear your gaze away and finally give your back to Choso and Yuji before you can stay, or Choso could force you to stay by his side.
And it’s only once your figure nor your face are painted before his very eyes that Choso pulls back his fist and opens his hand, seeing the little red and orange glass swan he had given you so long ago.
You had left a piece of your love behind that he could hold onto while you fought bravely, and so knew that you meant it when you said you'd go back to him because it’s true, you do want to go back to him. You won’t die against Sukuna, that’s not your heart's desire. You’ll fight fiercely because he took something from you.
He took Nanako and Mimiko. He took the girls who taught you how to love full-heartedly. He took the girls who made you a mother. He took your daughters. He took your daughters who loved you unconditionally. He took them away from you and didn’t stop there. He continued to break your heart by taking your brother too.
He was your best friend. Your beloved brother and he killed him too!
You’d like to fight Sukuna because he took Satori’s uncle, but you’re more selfish than that because Satoru was your brother first. You’ve loved him all your life and she’s only known him for a year of hers, so no, you aren't fighting for justice for her uncle's death, you’re fighting for justice for your brother's death.
Your brother, your daughters. Sukuna took them away. He’s a monster and you’ll kill him, or you’ll make him feel a fraction of what he made you feel. You’ll burn him so he can feel that agony he put you through even if it means your death.
Luckily he doesn’t notice you towering over him, he’s too lost in his glory after scoring a black flash against a teenage girl to notice you. Besides your cursed energy isn’t as strong and flashy as Satoru’s or Okkotsu’s, and for once you’re grateful for it because you can jump off the roof towering over Sukuna without getting noticed. At least for a few seconds that is.
When you get close, when your shadow casts on the ground around him you see him turn his neck and lift his head to catch what’s approaching him, but you force the elements to your side and use the air as your dance floor to twirl around Sukuna’s head before he has the chance to see you with either of his four eyes. Once you're behind him again you let gravity pull you down, and wrap your legs around his neck, and slap your hands on his eyes.
“I’ll take you to hell,” you sneer and light your hands on fire to burn his eyes.
Sukuna quickly throws his hand back and grabs you by the back of your head, but you stab your burning fingers in his deformed eyes and burn your fire fiercely and so bright that your fury is as clear as the burning sun in the sky, causing the giant beast to sneer before he digs his claws in the back of your neck and finally rips you off his back and hurls you off him.
You manage to use the air to catch yourself before you can hit the ground, and swiftly flip in the air to land with both feet on the ground.
“You,” Sukuna snarls.
You stand up smoothly and face him with a menacing glare. “Me,” you mock him.
Smoke rises off his eyes burnt shut, making his optical advantage nothing more than another wound he can’t heal. Which inflates your ego, you do admit.
Seeing the great Sukuna wounded because of you makes you stupidly proud.
“I was wondering when you’d show up,” he doesn’t show any sign of defeat, and why would he? He just rolls his shoulders back and raises his nose further in the sky, casting his menacing glare on your delicate soul.
“I thought you’d be mewling over…” he trails off and taps his chin. “Who was it now?”
He’s just trying to tick you off. You can’t let him get to your head.
“I’ll burn you Sukuna Ryōmen,” you try to project your anger cool, you need to stay level-headed.
“Ah,” he snaps his fingers and lays his eyes on you. “Nanako, and Mimiko.”
You dig the heel of your feet into the ground and swallow back thickly at the sound of their precious names coming out of his dirty and cursed mouth.
“Oh, don’t forget Satoru Gojo too,” he brings up unbothered but with a taunting look pierced on you. “Dead brother, dead husband, and dead daughters.” He snickers under his breath and flashes off his wicked smirk.
And how can you stay so level-headed when he plays so carelessly when he tosses out the names of the people you love as if they meant nothing?
They meant the world. They were the world to you and he killed them. He took them away from you. You can’t behave so rationally, you can’t act with both mind and heart when it’s your heart that mourns and weeps.
You can’t.
You have to act with your blinding anger and with your agonizing grief. You have to kill him.
“I’ll kill you bastard!” You cry out fiercely.
Sukuna throws his arms out and begins to laugh manically. “Show me what you got oh Fallen One!” He bellows.
You blast off the ground and fly toward him with both fists basking with fire, and fury burning in your red-orange eyes.
However, instead of barreling your ignited fists in him, you use your cursed energy to manipulate the ground beneath his feet and rip off a piece of the ground to blast him to the sky.
You quickly follow him by meeting him in the sky and bring your hands together to display a dangerous hand sign.
“I am death. I am the One Fallen from Grace, and today Sukuna…you will know pain,” you grimace and pierce your glare into the depths of his soul to chant. “Domain expansion; StormsEnd!”
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Tagged- @deniseabad1928 @secondary-character-25 @starlightanyaaa @notsaelty @d4rno @moonnime @kodzukein @yozora7154 @heijihattorisgf @elegantweirdorchest @natakina
A/N- Flashforward or an illusion? Whatever it is, we need more of Choso and his babies.
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bambithewriter · 16 hours
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Ch.1 - Ma Karyu, ma tutepe
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Lo’ak(21) x female omatikaya reader(22)
Adult Lo’ak pic is made by the amazing Cinetrix💗
Series masterlist
Summary: In which the Sully family returns after staying with the Metkayina for seven years. Lo'ak isn't the same teenage boy he was before leaving the Omatikaya clan. He returns a man, a fully grown Metkayina warrior. Now, he must learn the ways of an Omatikaya warrior and pass his rite of passage. Who else can teach him other than one of Omatikya's finest warriors?
Content: MDNI, 18+, angst, fluff, smut, student/teacher trope, reader is the "golden girl" of the clan, Lo'ak is known as a “badboy” due to his rebelliousness
A/N: I didn’t expect to bring this out so soon this week but I had so much motivation and basically wrote for hours!
Taglist: @rivatar, @tallulah477, @fluorynn, @neteyamsoare, @neteyamssyulang, @ikeyniofthetayrangi, @haunting-venus, @itchaboi-itchyboy, @melaninqueen04, @tsireyasluvr, @deadgirlrin, @yourstrulybluelover, @indiramae, @pluhhbabyy (Let me know if you wish to be added or removed)
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Chapter 1 - One life ends
ma'itan = my son
tsakarem = tsahìk-in-training
Pa’li - direhorse
Banshee- ikran
“Ma’itan, we must go.” Neytri urged her son to hurry up, already on her banshee. Just like seven years ago, Tuk sat in front of their mother with a bored expression. She had changed over the years. 
She was not the same little girl anymore who used to be so eager and excited about everything. 
No, she was 14 years old now. A teenager. A real bratty one at that. Some even dared to say she was worse than Lo'ak.
He had been reckless, troublesome, and adventurous (he still is), but at least he had Neteyam. Neteyam would always act as his shadow, more of a father figure rather than his older brother. At least, he used to be. 
No one had been the same after his death. Without their big brother, the Sully family took a big hit. The dynamic changed rapidly, and all five struggled to adjust to this new situation. 
It was not five people. 
Through the eyes of Neytiri, it was. She had struggled the most adapting to the ways of water, never fully getting it. Not when she had built her whole identity in the forest. Keeping her family safe was the only way she managed to stay sane. Losing her firstborn child was a pain, indescribable for words. They say there is no love stronger than the love of a mother for her child. 
But to be fair, they were with six people now.
One life ends, another begins. 
With the death of Neteyam, the rebirth of Spider began. The human boy who never had a family before, always straying around the Sully's, now had a family to call his own. 
A son for a son.
A brother for a brother.
The Great Mother always had a plan. Kiri was sure of it. To others, it may seem like she did not care as much. The truth was that she knew it was meant to happen. She mourned her big brother's death and missed him dearly but he is with Eywa. Besides, she was the big sister now.
During the first few months, it was she, who kept the family together. Neteyam would have been proud. 
Kiri let Tsireya hug her one last time but grimaced when Aonung tried to reach for her. Some things will never change. 
She too hopped onto her banshee. Jake walked past her, patting her back gently. He made sure everyone was secure and ready to go for the long trip to the forest, home. 
A father protects and keeps his family safe. Jake failed. At least, that is what he kept telling himself. The death of his oldest son affected him more than he would show. He had to keep himself together, for the sake of his family, the one he still had. 
“Son, we do not have time to play around. Get on your banshee, boy." Jake spoke in a firm tone, giving his youngest son a firm glare. He gave his banshee, Bob, a quick pat before hopping onto him. 
"I'm coming, dad,"  Lo'ak replied, giving Aonung a playful punch and Tsireya a quick hug. 
What once started as rivalry turned out into a strong brotherly bond. It goes without saying that Lo'ak and Aonung were no longer enemies. 
Tsireya, she was a different story. Seven years ago, Lo'ak had been crushing on the beautiful tsakarem. They did end up together, but nothing lasts forever. Their teenage love came to an end, but they stayed friends regardless. 
Lo'ak made his way to his banshee, Spider already waiting beside her from a safe distance. 
Despite Lo'ak having taken Spider on multiple banshee rides certainly didn't take away the fact that his banshee would not hesitate to try anything with Spider. She wasn't fond of humans after all. 
"Bro, come on." Spider grinned at Lo'ak. He tugged at his tail just for the sake of annoying him. Lo'ak let out a hiss before pulling at Spider's poncho instead. The flight home would be long and rough, not fit for most humans. Yet Spider wasn't a normal human. He was tough and strong. He would survive. 
Lo'ak calmed his banshee, urging Spider to climb on before hopping on himself. 
Lo'ak looked back one more time, taking in the place that had been his home for all those years. The first time he arrived a young teenage boy. He'd leave a fully grown Metkayina warrior. 
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“One, two, three, four.”
“Eylan, keep your head up and straighten your shoulders.”  
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Again, one, two, three and four.” 
You strutted past the young warriors, back straight, chin high. Taking in their forms, adjusting them when needed, wearing the same expression you’d always show everybody. A strict and unreadable one. 
You've been at it for the entire morning. Lessons started early and would last just before eclipse, in time for dinner. You were hard on them. You knew that. But it was necessary. Becoming a warrior required a strong mentality and a strong heart. 
You were an odd one. Admired by many for your strength, discipline, and courage. Traits of a real warrior, a mighty one at that. 
Your parents never stopped bragging about you. You were their successor, their golden child. It drove your siblings crazy. 
Your older sister, Ley'ira, made a fine weaver. Growing up your parents put a lot of pressure on her, urging her to find her position in the clan, watching her younger siblings and pressuring her into finding a mate even though she was only one year older than you.
She adored you, she really did. But she could not stand the way your parents spoke of you with so much pride like you were above everyone else. 
Then there was your younger brother Ikalu. He was 15 years old, a young warrior in training. He refused to be taught by you, not wanting to be looked down upon by his own sister. 
Everyone respected your position within the clan. You were the golden girl after all. Soft-spoken, always obeyed the rules and never talked back to your elders. 
People either hated you or loved you. 
It's not like you paid much attention to them anyway. You were quite shy by nature and preferred to spend time by yourself rather than hanging amongst a crowd. 
As a grown woman, you had many suitors. You were strong, beautiful and knew how to carry yourself. The perfect package. 
If you ever had a bad day and were in any pain there was a simple solution. Walk it off. 
Just as you were about to go on with the next command, a group of other warriors your age came riding on their pa'li’s
You immediately recognized the one in front, Ke'nu. He was a fine warrior and knew how to lead a group. He was one of the men who had shown interest in courting you. Yet, you never showed much interest.
"What is the meaning of this, Ke'nu? I'm in the middle of a lesson." You spoke firmly when he stopped in front of me. 
The young warriors just stood there, confused by the sudden interruption.
"They're coming back. We must head back to Hometree, immediately. Tarsem's orders."  
Your hairless eyebrows raised up, lips parting slightly. You gave a quick nod to ke'nu before turning back towards the group of young students.
"That was enough for today. Pack your stuff and follow me back to Hometree. Toruk Makto and his family return today."
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empress-simps · 15 hours
Text
Close To Me
Pairing: Bodyguard! Marauders x Fem! Reader, Bodyguard! Sirius x Fem! Reader AU: Bodyguard AU / Muggle AU CW: Reader getting kidnapped. Sirius getting injured. Note: This might be the longest one shot I have written so far, this is also my first time writing an action-ish fic? So please do keep it in mind, some parts may be inaccurate.. I also published this at 12 midnight lol. Enjoy!(2.5k words)
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You always thought it was a tad bit excessive.
Being the sole heir to a vast family fortune meant that you had the finest thing you could ever want in your life; it also meant that you had the finest protection. Your father handpicked every staff member that was assigned to protect and care for you- going as far as doing not just a background check on them, but also their entire family. Doing a bunch of psychology and loyalty tests were also a must so it was rest assured that they would do their job.
Having one bodyguard? Understandable. Two? Oh, alright just some precautions. Three? That sounds... very safe. Four? Now, that's where you draw the line.
Sure, being born with a golden spoon is great- wonderful, even; but you felt like you were trapped.
You wanted to live life like any other normal human being, away from assassination or kidnapping attempts that were made in your life. So, mustering up every courage you have, you stormed into your father’s study to try and persuade him to just at least assign one to watch over you.
It was expected, you failed.
Now you were stuck with four goofballs bodyguards who would protect you with their life.
James Potter- the strategist. He could sense danger from miles away and best believe that a safe escape plan for you was already formulated if ever things went south.
Remus Lupin- the mediator. He has the ability to appear calm and composed even in the face of danger. Remus saved you more than once just from his voice and words.
Peter Pettigrew- the tech wizard. He’s the one responsible for surveillance, turning any kind of technology into a means of protecting you.
And then there was Sirius Black, the jack of all trades. When your father chose the top candidate, it was him. He was an exceptionally skilled fighter, good with weapons, fast and light reflexes, can speak multiple languages (mainly French), and over all just a well-rounded protector.
Being born into a family with a long tradition and a reputation for producing some of the best security experts in the muggle world, Sirius stood out like a sore thumb. He was the black sheep who defied family expectations. His family's company, BlackGuard Security, was known for its merciless efficiency and rigid standards.
His abilities were evident. Succeeded in every training program he participated in, frequently outperforming his peers with fast thinking and adaptability. Your father noticed Sirius's unconventional approach to security and saw potential in his abilities. When he was assigned to be your bodyguard, he took it as an opportunity to show himself beyond the shadow of his family's legacy.
Sirius is your shadow. He’s never more than a few paces behind. But it wasn’t just duty that kept him so close; it’s the quiet and unspoken bond that had formed between you two throughout the years. A bond that went beyond the call of duty, beyond the formalities. Which he desperately tries to deny.
“Good morning, Remmy!”
You beamed, smiling as you opened the door of your bedroom to see the tall man standing outside, on watch.
It’s still a mystery to you how he looks so put together with his neat hair, suit, and the signature earpiece in his ear even though it’s still 7:00 in the morning.
“Good morning, Miss.” He smiles, closing the door behind you as you headed towards the grand staircase, Remus following a step behind.
“I rarely see you during mornings,” You comment, going down the stairs to grab breakfast.
“James had some matters to attend to, Miss.” He answered, offering a small and polite smile. You hummed, “It’s alright. I like your company, Remmy. Jamie can get a tad bit enthusiastic in mornings.” You laugh, as Remus looks at you.
“Don’t let him hear that or he might just throw a fit.” He chuckled.
“He’s James, it’s normal.” You grinned, seeing the familiar long black-haired guy talking quietly in his earpiece.
“Morning, Sirius!” You waved at him; his piercing grey eyes looked in your direction. “Good morning, Y/n.” he smiled, then went back to talking in his earpiece.
You would be lying if you said you weren’t a bit bummed that you don’t have his undivided attention, Remus noticed this and raised his eyebrow, smiling to himself.
Taking a seat at the rather large dining table, you couldn't help but sigh. Remus decided to tease you a bit, "Were you expecting more from Padfoot?" He smiles, chuckling at the way you desperately try to hide the blush on your cheeks.
"What?! No! I was just pre-occupied with other things!"
Remus doesn't believe it when your eyes wandered in the direction of Sirius who was still talking into the earpiece. "No prongs, she has an event she needs to attend in the evening." You heard him talking to what you can assume is James from the other line.
The scent of breakfast wafted through the air, making your stomach growl as the staff placed the dishes and arranged the silverware for you.
"Would you like some, Remmy?"
"No thank you, miss. I already ate."
As you ate a piece of your breakfast, you looked up to Remus. "Anything interesting stuff for today?"
"I'm afraid today will be quite normal, miss. Just a charity ball your family would attend hosted by the Malfoy family."
You frowned. It's not like you hate the Malfoys, you just don't like how they're trying to set you up with their son, Lucius Malfoy, when it was clear that he is infatuated with his mother's bodyguard- Narcissa Black.
"Do I really have to go?" You complained,
"Prongs already picked up your dress for later, Y/n." Sirius suddenly spoke up, and standing beside Remus. You huffed, already feeling tired.
“Maybe I’ll just sneak out again-“
“No can do, Y/n!” James appeared out of nowhere, his famous grin plastered on his face, Peter trailing behind him, tinkering with what seems to be a mini remote of some sort.
You crossed your arms, eyebrows raised. “And why would that be, Mr. Potter?”
“Because your escort would be Malfoy.” he grumbles, clearly not liking the idea and the dude.
“I beg your pardon?”
You tried not to roll your eyes, keyword, tried. Remus clears his throat, trying to mask his surprise. Sirius felt his eye twitch.
What if something happens at the ball? Sirius is the most capable one of protecting you from danger, sorrynotsorry.
“But!” James blurts, “We’d still attend the ball, not just that close to you.”
“Like that’s any better.”
James frowns, “Sorry. The Malfoys actually don’t even want us to attend and guard you. Your father insisted, telling them you won’t attend the ball without us.” He says, taking a seat beside you despite Remus’ warning glances directed at him.
“Just what do they want…?” Sirius mumbles to himself, already getting highly suspicious of Lucius and his family. (Not because of the fact that you’re about to get arranged to the Malfoy heir, no not at all.)
“They’re probably just annoyed, Lucius really can’t make a move on Y/n with us around.” James said, grabbing a handful of grapes and popping them onto his mouth, making you chuckle as you pushed the bowl closer to him.
“Alright, looking good Y/n!” James grinned, seeing you come down the grand staircase dressed in a red lavish gown with a gold accent.
Sirius felt his heart stop.
There was just something about you that makes his heart beat a little faster, time freezing, and the unusual flips his stomach did when he sees you.
Fuck— you were absolutely breathtaking.
You twirled, making your boys smile and compliment you, but Sirius just stood there, not reacting.
“Do I look presentable, Siri?”
You asked, trying to pass it off as a joke but they know damn well you were serious as you fiddled with a random lace in your dress. Not like Sirius noticed it, no, he was transfixed to your beauty.
“Beautiful.”
That was all you needed to hear.
“Mr. Malfoy, good evening.”
Lucius smiled slightly, taking your hand, and kissing it. “The night could not compare to your beauty, Y/n.”
It took every single fiber of Sirius’ being to not punch Lucius square in the face. How dare he flirt with you when he’s secretly dating his cousin?
You smiled politely, even though all you wanted to do is to stay a good couple of feet away from him. “You flatter me, Mr. Malfoy.”
“I am just stating facts, Y/n.” He offered his arm to you, “Shall we?”
Right. Might as well get over it.
Linking your arm with his, you nodded. “We shall.”
The boys instantly knew there was something off as soon as they stepped inside the venue.
James kept twisting the ring on his pinky finger, already thinking of numerous escape plans for different situations. Peter was on his phone, eyebrows furrowing as he checked and tries to figure out why he can't access some surveillance cameras in the venue. Sirius was on high alert, nothing could go unnoticed, he knows who approached you, how long you've spoken to them, the food that you consumed, and how that stupid Lucius kissed your hand, and interacted with you.
Remus also was alert, but one thing that made the alarms go off inside his head was the four suspicious men dressed in tuxedos quietly slipped inside the venue without getting noticed.
"Marauders, two o'clock. Four men, nearing darling's area quick." He told in the comms, eyes never leaving the four figures.
"Copy, Moony. Wormtail, any news?" Remus' earpiece was filled with James' voice. "Negative. Still trying to access." Out of the corner of his eye, Remus can see Sirius slowly inching to your direction. "Padfoot, do not engage. Wait it out." Remus heard James order Sirius, "I won't." he grunts.
That was when hell broke loose.
With lightning reflexes, one of the men pulled out a pistol and shot the large crystal chandelier causing it to fall and crash to the ground, breaking into thousands of tiny pieces. It was pure chaos, people were trying to rush out of the exits, chairs and tables were turned as they pushed through.
Sirius felt his blood run cold.
He was in autopilot, he dodged a panicked guest and leaped over fallen chairs, all while keeping his eyes on you. He cannot afford for the men to reach you before he does.
Luck was not on his side today.
He quickly closed the distance between both of you. He was your protector; he swore on his life he would protect you. Sirius would even sacrifice his life if it meant that you would be safe. He would do anything for you.
It was proven it wasn't enough when one of the men grabbed your arm, dragging you towards a hidden exit while Lucius Malfoy was escorted by the others.
"Fuck!" He yelled, as one of Malfoy's henchmen shot him in the shoulder to prevent him from going after you.
"Prongs! They have her!" They could all hear his anguished voice through the comms. Remus runs over to Sirius from where he was stationed, "Padfoot, you're injured-"
"I don't care!" He yells at his friend, "We need to fucking find her!"
"Wormtail, you better have the damn access already or I'll skin you alive!" Sirius barks angrily, talking to his comms as he fought the rest of the men with Remus helping him. "I'm in, but it's too late. They jammed the signals earlier and destroyed footages. Go to the exit, you'll see a motorbike on your left-" Sirius doesn't need to be told twice, he did what Peter told him and mounted the motorcycle, Remus quickly joining him.
"Can you see the black car ahead of you? That's them." Peter told him. Sirius was focusing on chasing the damn vehicle, so Remus answered on his behalf.
"Yeah, we're closing in. Prongs, what's your status?"
"Backsup are on their way, they'll be right behind you in 2 minutes."
Sirius felt the distant throb in his shoulder, the warm blood seeping through made his dress shirt clung onto him, but he paid it no mind.
"Keep your eyes on the road, Padfoot!" Remus reminds him as they narrowly missed an incoming truck. Sirius only nodded in reply as he grips the motorcycle tightly, weaving through the traffic and desperately trying to reach the speedy vehicle you're in.
"We're gaining on them!" Remus updates, seeing the familiar back up vehicles approaching, "Back up's near."
"Do not engage until the back ups arrive." James told them in a calm and commanding tone.
Of course.
Sirius will always be Sirius. When had he ever listened to Prongs' orders?
He is driven by his instinct, which is currently screaming at him to attack right then and there. As they neared an intersection, an opportunity was presented to him. He would be a fucking idiot to ignore it. With a calculated risk, he accelerated, effectively pulling alongside the car.
Remus sighs, already knowing his friend's thoughts and getting ready.
"Now, Moony!" Remus, who's on cue, leaned out and desperately tried to reach the car's door handle, and with a few tries, he managed to open it succesfully making him grapple with a man inside.
The car swerves, tires screeching but Sirius kept his pace. He can see you struggling with your captors, and he can hear the backup seconds away. He couldn't wait, every second counts, anything could happen.
"Hang on!" Sirius shouts, with a burst of speed, the backup cars sandwiched the car with you inside, forcing it to halt. Sirius and Remus dismounted the motorbike, guns drawn.
"It's either you release her, or I'll kill all of you and blondie." He growls, referring to Lucius Malfoy who is also inside the car.
The situation was tense, but the arrival of their team shifted the balance. The henchmen, overwhelmed and outgunned, let you go, their plan thwarted. Keeping the Malfoy Heir safe is their top priority.
Dust settled down, and the other staff handled the situation, wrapping it up. Sirius stormy grey eyes met yours in the midst of chaos. His shoulder stung, a reminder of the events that had happened tonight, although it paled in comparison to the concern etched in his face as he rushes to you.
"You're not hurt, are you?" His voice was barely above a whisper as he scanned your form. Your eyes found its way on his injury, "No, I'm alright. But Sirius, you're hurt."
Sirius exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and the world seems to slow down. "I'll live, darling. The important thing is that you're safe."
The sirens, flashing lights, and the buzz all seemed to fade out into the background as you stared into his eyes. Taking your hand in his, he placed it to his lips, pressing a kiss, his gaze never leaving yours.
"I was so afraid I'd lose you," he admitted, the vulnerability in his voice unlike anything you'd heard before. Sirius hugged you tightly, feeling him press a kiss against your hair as you leaned to his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart.
"You'll never lose me. Never in a million years, how could you when you're always close to me?"
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tropes-and-tales · 2 days
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Hi! If you do headcanons, can you do a Dating Ray Merrimen headcanon?
This is suitable for work!
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Expect a long, long wait before you actually start dating.  Ray has no time for dating or relationships.  He’s not on any apps, and he certainly doesn’t want to be set up.  So when you drift through his life—maybe you’re a friend of Bosco’s girl—be prepared for the slowest of slow burns. 
It takes, let’s say…a month before Ray even notices that you’re hanging around with the crew.
It takes another month before he starts to remember your name.
Another month after that before you get the patented Ray Merrimen tip of the head in greeting each time you show up.
It is the slowest of slow burns.  You keep a little tally in your phone of how many words you exchange with Ray each time you see him.
You make a game of it.  Can you get Ray to answer you in more than a monosyllable?
The first time he finally does, you can’t help but laugh, and he narrows his eyes at you, not understanding the joke.
You know it’s a long shot with Ray.  You don’t get your hopes up—you still go on dates with guys you meet on the apps.  A few even tempt you into second and third dates, but no one can quite capture your imagination the way Ray does.
Even though you don’t seem to capture Ray’s imagination at all.  All of his brain power is consumed with bank schematics, armored van schedules, and planning his next heist.
But as much as you watch Ray and study him, you don’t really know him.
Case in point:  you assume he’s never thought about you, consumed as he is with his less-than-licit career.
You assume wrong.  Ray has been studying you on the sly too, and he noticed you the very first time you turned up.  Ray notices everyone, especially new folks, so when Bosco’s girl brought you around, he watched you and took in every single thing about you.
All those months when you felt invisible to him?  He was watching you, learning who you were. 
The thing is, Ray Merrimen is perfectly fine alone.  He prides himself on his discipline and self-control, and he is not the sort of man to chase a woman.
Instead, he sits back and watches and waits.  He studies you to see if you’re the sort of woman who can handle him.
All of this happens without you realizing.  You just think you’re a pining little idiot, so you’re surprised when you drink too much at one of Levoux’s parties and need a ride home.
“Don’t do that,” Ray tells you.  He takes your phone from your hand and cancels the ride-share you are trying to order.  “They don’t vet those drivers.”
The solution?  Ray drives you home. 
He’s quiet for most of it, but you’re a chatty drunk, so you talk and he listens, and you miss the little twitch at the corner of his mouth—his version of a smile.
He parks in front of your house, and he doesn’t leave until he sees your front door safely behind you.
The next time you see him, you thank him, and he tips you that same stoic nod in reply.
But you’re clued into him a bit now.  You’re falling into the same wavelength as Ray. 
Oftentimes, when you look across the room or across Bosco’s backyard, you see Ray watching you.
And when he catches you watching him, he tips that nod, gives the same small, tight corner-of-the-mouth smile.
When Mack celebrates his birthday at a club, you’re there in a dress that’s tight in the right places and short in the right places.
It draws a lot of male attention.
And Ray may pride himself on his self-control, but the absolute second he sees some fucking asshole eyeing you up, he’s at your side and refuses to move for the rest of the night.
Going to dance with your friend?  Ray lurks in the shadows right at the edge of the dance floor.
Going to the bathroom?  Ray walks you to the hallway and waits to escort you back.
Need another round?  Ray puts his hand on your lower back and gently ushers you there and back, and he lays down a crisp $20 to pay for it.
One of those fucking assholes eyeing you up?  He doesn’t get the message.  He keeps trying to sidle up to you, chat you up…
…until Ray wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you in tight to him. 
It’s purely protective, and it raises an indistinct ache between your thighs to be held like this.  From no touch at all to this, Ray’s solid body shielding you, the clean scent of his body wash in your nose.
The night ends in another ride home from Ray. 
You’re tipsy, and this time?  He walks you to your door instead of staying in his car, but he doesn’t come in when you invite him.
“Next time,” he tells you.  “Be sure to drink lots of water.  Maybe take an ibuprofen before you go to sleep.”
He must see the blatant disappointment on your face, because he gives that small smile, then hooks a finger under your chin. 
He tilts your face up to him, and he bends his head to kiss you—the gentlest, softest brush of his lips against the corner of your mouth.
“Next time,” he repeats, and even though your head is spinning at even the tamest of kisses, it sounds like a promise.
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