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#If it ends up being real god I will not shut up about it for the next 227832836283 years
eraenaa · 2 days
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Imgonnagetyouback
Inspired by the song "Imgonnagetyouback" by Taylor Swift
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Rafe Cameron x Reader
Summary: The plan is clear. Get Rafe back after your breakup. 
Warnings: Possessiveness, Jealousy, ¡Kinda Biased Towards the Reader!, ¿Kinda Toxic Relationship?, Violence, Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Fingering, Not Proofread 
Word Count: 3,826
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Two weeks. Two fucking weeks since Rafe broke up with you, and only now did you begin to spiral. It was not as if it was your first breakup with him; you would admit you two had a handful of breakups during the duration of your relationship, especially when you consider that you two had been dating since middle school. But this instance was different; this was the first time that Rafe was the one to initiate the breakup. Before, it was always you who called it quits, and he would come to you on his knees, begging you to take him back. However, now, he was the one to leave, and a fortnight had already passed, and no word was heard from him, leading you to become inwardly frantic. 
“So this one’s official now, huh?” Sarah asked as you filed your nails, staring harshly at your phone, willing it to light up with a notification from your best friend’s brother. “The audacity he has to do this to me! Did I tell you how he broke up with me?” You asked, and Sarah said no, even though you had ranted to her the story at least twice. “We were just sitting here, watching a movie— we had not fought for at least a month, and then he just said, ‘Let’s break up,’ and fucking got up and left!” You groaned, remembering how you stayed up later that night waiting for Rafe because you did not believe his words and the ludicrous way he ended your relationship. “I hate him! I should smash up his bike to teach him a lesson. He’s so fucking immature!” You groaned and heard Sarah sigh, “I’ve told you that years before and hundreds of times after, but you just ignored my warnings.” You groaned once more and tightly shut your eyes. You feel Sarah go to where you sat, “What are you gonna do now?” She asked and you took in a deep breath. “I’m gonna get him back.” You stated, and from the side of your eye, you saw her expression grow confused. “What?”
“I’m gonna get him back,” You declared once more. “I’m gonna get him back then be the one to break up with him— a real break up this time. Like, totally over.” You say but that did not aid Sarah’s confusion. “He does not get to be the one with the final say. He does not get to be the one to end all of this.” You say. “No offense, Sarah, but I’m going to crush your brother’s heart.” You turn to her and watch her lips twitch. “Do you need help?” She asked, and that earned a genuine laugh from you after weeks of being stoic as you did not know if you should mourn your relationship or wait for Rafe to be standing with flowers at the other side of your door. “I’m gonna get him back so bad.” You say once more as your mind was already thinking of the ways to take your revenge. 
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You played in the tennis court with Sarah, her already luring in Topper, and with Topper came your now ex, Rafe. They just came from a round of god, and you try your best not to grow distracted by his presence, you willed your stubborn heart not to admit that it had missed him. You bounced the tennis ball, waiting for Sarah to finish her conversation with Topper. You smirked to yourself as you felt eyes on your ass. Specifically wearing Rafe’s favorite tennis skirt of yours. Your mind conjured the memory of him almost drooling as he watched you step out of the fitting room, fashioning the tight, lilac skirt. Just like a moth to a flame, Rafe threaded towards your direction. 
“Hey,” He greeted; in his hand was a can of cold beer, and you urged your gaze not to be entranced by the veins on his rather attractive hand. There was just something about how he gripped things. “Hi,” you say, tilting your gaze upward and squinting your eyes as the sun is beaming down harshly. “How are you?” He asked, his voice holding an edge of tension and awkwardness. “Pretty good, we’re three, love,” You say and watch as his lips part as you intentionally use the nickname you used to call him in a phrasing that was completely ambiguous. It was exactly why you asked Sarah to lure them here to the tennis court, knowing it was the only appropriate setting where you could execute at least three parts of your plan to get him back. “Love?” He asked, his voice lower, and you nodded. “Yeah, love. Zero,” You say, your demeanor relaxed as if you were not at all affected that he ended your six-year relationship. 
You watch him wet his lips and take a chug of his beer. “About the uh… the— our break up,” He stuttered, and you gazed top at him innocently, “What about it?” You asked and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, your eyes catching the way the ball on his throat bobbed, his lips parting, and you could practically see his mind trying to form his words to address the situation. “That’s it?” He asked after a while, and you bit your lip, knowing he loved it when you did that action, convincing him that you, too, were trying to think of a response even though you already knew how the scene would play out. “Yeah, I suppose. I mean, ours was a middle-school romance; it has run its course.” You said and watch intently as how hurt flashes in his eyes before quickly covering it with cool detachment. “Why? Did you think this would end up in like a marriage or something?” You ask, tilting your head to the side, noting how Rafe’s jaw clenched. 
Every word you uttered was like a bullet into Rafe’s chest. He must admit he broke up with you for no particular reason other than just being petty. The sudden breakup was just a result of his pride being wounded. Topper and Kelce had reminded him of the times you broke up with him and him being quick to go down on his knees and beg for you back. His ego could just not stomach the way they called him a ‘simp’ and ‘fucking whipped’ that he made a rash and ill-thought judgment. He was waiting for you to contact him, a call, a text, even a fucking smoke signal, just anything as long as you did the first move first. But two weeks had flown by, and not a word came from you. Now, to hear you say that you’ve expected your relationship to end— that you were practically just counting the days before its demise presented Rafe with sorrow, regret, and, greatest of all, rage.  
“Did you think this would end up in like a marriage or something?” The sentence echoed through Rafe’s mind. What the fuck did you mean by that? He remembered all too well the times you gushed about your futures. About how your wedding ceremonies would play out. What dress you’d wear. Where your honeymoon would be. The number of kids you two would have. The house you two will live in. Every specific detail of your future was thought of and was embedded in his mind, and now here you go, disregarding all of those sacred plans. 
“Rafe?” You called as he stood before you unmovingly, but you could feel him seething internally. You stepped closer and placed your hand on his arm to get his attention. You bit your cheeks as you feel his skin grow riddled with gooseflesh, a reaction that only you could elicit from him. You stared into his eyes, intense blue orbs that were starting to think twice about his decision. “Hey asshole, get out of the court, we’re trynna play!” You hear Sarah scream from a distance, and you step back and steal away your touch from him but not your eyes, as you wanted him to get the message that there was no apprehension or sadness in you about his decision to end things. Rafe stomped over to the side, standing next to Topper, him obviously agitated and tense. You turned to Sarah, and a knowing smirk appeared on both of your lips as the laid-out plans were going well. You were so gonna get him back. 
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After your round of tennis at the club, the group decided to go back to Tanneyhill. You made yourself comfortable at the estate that was practically a second home to you. “Hey, Wheez,” You greeted as you went to the kitchens to grab a bottle of water. “Oh, you’re back!” She cried, and you laughed as you were enveloped in a hug by Rafe and Sarah’s sister, who was practically yours, too. “I heard about the breakup,” she whispered as she parted, but her hushed voice was moot as her older brother still heard her words. You were not quite sure what to say, but luckily, Wheezie spoke once more. “I mean, it’s not like it was unexpected, but still! I can’t believe you ended it; you were supposed to be my sister!” She exclaimed, devastated. 
“She didn’t end it,” Sarah came, and you watched as Wheezie abruptly turned to her brother, who stood next to Topper, who was hindering from laughing. “You idiot! You let her go?!” She exclaimed at Rafe, and you just stood there as Wheezie expressed her disbelief at her brother. “Shouldn’t you be out playing,” Rafe gritted as Wheezie’s reaction was only solidifying his regret. You bit your lip and perched yourself atop the counter as you watched the three Cameron siblings argue, Rafe trying to be rid of Wheezie and Sarah coming to their little sister’s defense. You turn to Topper, the two of you being a constant audience of this little family affair. 
In the end, Rafe, who was urging Wheezie to be the one to leave, was the one who stomped away. “Well, that went better than expected,” Sarah said. The three of you girls were left alone in the kitchen as Topper followed out his friend. “Still can’t believe that he was the one to break it off,” Wheezie said. You simply shrugged, “That’s why I’m trying to get him back,” You say. “So I can be the one to really end it.” 
“Wait, so, if you two aren’t dating anymore, who are you going to take to Midsummers?” Wheezie asked. And you feel your lips part as that did not even cross your mind. You and Rafe had always gone to Midsummers together. The event connected to many memories and many firsts for the two of you. “I guess no one,” You say. “But what if he takes someone else?” Wheezie asked, and you turned to Sarah. “We need to find you a date,” She quickly said, and you nodded. “Wait— but aren’t you trying to get him back to get back at him? If you bring a date, wouldn’t that like piss Rafe off more?” Wheezie asked as you three headed towards Sarah’s bedroom. “Exactly. Haven’t you noticed Rafe likes things better when he can’t have them?” Sarah asked, and you nodded along, recalling the times Rafe’s determination to acquire things that were dangled before him but were just beyond reach. 
“So, who would you take to Midsummers?” Sarah asked, “That’s an easy enough problem to solve; what I need now is something to wear for the party later,” You say and watch Wheezie and Sarah frown. “You’re going to that? You hate house parties.” Sarah frowned. “I do. But Rafe is going and it’s important for him to see that this whole ordeal is not at all affecting me,” You explained. “What? You’re going to flirt with other boys?” Wheez asked, and you smirked, “Duh,” 
 Rafe watched steely eyes as you sauntered into the room, taking the drink some dude handed to you and flashing him with a smile that had always been meant for Rafe. His fist clenched around his cup, effectively crushing the red solo cup as he watched you entertain the guys he had always kept a distance from you. His heart throbbing in his chest and his rage consuming him as you let one of them lead you towards the dance floor. Letting him stand behind you and let your bodies be flushed— letting him take Rafe’s place. 
You gritted your teeth as Rafe made no move. He only stayed on his spot by the side with some girl from your school who had always been over him since he was in the third grade and you were in the second. But even then, even though you two were just children, you two had always been drawn to each other. You huffed as you felt the vile feeling rising in you as a random dude kept dancing against you, and Rafe made no move— at this point in time, you miss his violent jealousy that you used to frown upon. 
You feel your heart still as your eyes locked with his. The silent language between you had gone mute and was now forgotten. Your heart clenched as he did nothing, only turned away from you and draped his arm around the shoulders of another girl. You staggered back as his actions stunned you and stung your heart. “Wanna get out of here?” The guy behind you dipped down and whispered in your ear, tugging at your hand. Your lips parted as you looked between him and Rafe, you waited a moment, willing him to turn around, but he didn’t. Is it really over now? You swallowed thickly and squared your shoulders, turning to the guy you were dancing with. “Yeah, sure,” You say meekly, and he grinned, pulling you away from the crowd and towards the bonfire lit by the shore. 
Rafe felt appalled to have his arms around another girl, but he had these theatrics to get you back. He turned back his gaze to the dance floor, searching for your gaze and making sure that the guy you danced with did not step a foot beyond bounds. Rafe felt his heart fall out of his chest as he realized you were gone. He quickly removed his arm from the random girl beside him and searched for you. “Sarah, where is she? Did she go home? Tell me she went home alone.” Rafe asked as he saw Sarah with her boyfriend. “Who?” She asked, feigning innocence. “Don’t fucking play with me, where’s my fucking girlfriend?!” Rafe seethed, eyes franticly searching for you. “You don’t have a girlfriend, Rafe. You broke up with her, remember?” Sarah asked, enjoying the panic in her brother. Topper laughed beside her, and Rafe shook his head. “Fuck you two, you really do deserve each other,” Rafe gritted and headed towards the beach. 
Rafe thought he had already uncovered every level of anger within him, but he was wrong. Nothing would compare to the rage he felt when he saw the guy you were dancing with holding you by your arms, trying to keep you still as you pushed him away as he tried to kiss your lips that were meant for Rafe. “Get the fuck away from her!” Rafe charged toward the guy and landed his fist on the guy’s jaw. Your eyes widened as Rafe suddenly appeared. You just stood there in shock, watching Rafe let out his rage on a guy who finally deserved it. It took a moment before your mind registered the severity of what was now happening; a crowd appeared and circled as Rafe and the guy fought. None even made a move to hinder them. You looked around and saw Kelce and Topper by your right, urging them to get Rafe, who was not at all phased by the crows that suddenly appeared. “You fucking force yourself on her! Fucking cunt!” Rafe screamed as his punches never missed his target. He was not at all tired of beating the guy who dared touch you, his mind not registering anything around him except the rage he felt. 
You feel your heart drop as the distinct sound of a siren sounded out, the crowd that had gathered quickly dissolving, but the presence of authority did nothing to sedate and calm Rafe. He was relentless in punching the guy even though he was already on the brink of unconsciousness. “That’s enough! Go home!” The sheriff screamed, and two other officers pulled Rafe away from the bloodied and bruised body of the guy. “This was not supposed to happen,” You whisper to Sarah as they push Rafe against the cop car and handcuff his wrists. You found yourself being dropped off at the station to post bail and explain to the sheriff what had happened. “He was just defending me; that guy was forcing himself on me, and luckily, Rafe was there to stop him.” You explained and turned your gaze to Rafe, who was in holding, staring blankly at the wall, his jaw and fists still harshly clenched. “Well, he did more than stop him,” The sheriff muttered with a sigh. “He’s not pressing charges, so your little boyfriend’s free to go,” the sheriff added reluctantly. You nodded and quickly moved to go to Rafe, whose cell doors were being opened for him. 
Tense silence surrounded the both of you as you stepped out of the station, and it followed the both of you until you reached Tanneyhill. You turned to Rafe, lips parting to speak, but he cut you off by placing his lips upon yours and cupping your cheeks with both of his battered hands. You melted at his touch, finally relenting and admitting to yourself that you had greatly missed him. When you two parted, you stared deeply into his eyes, deciphering clearly the thoughts he always struggled to word out. “You still love me,” You breathed out and felt your stomach twist as he nodded his head. “Of course I do,” He answered and kissed your lips once more. You wrapped your arms around him, your fingers lightly scratching his skull, his buzzcut hair prickling and tickling your soft palms. You feel him grip your ass once more, the telltale sign that warned you where this would lead. And though you missed feeling your body tangled with Rafe’s, you still needed answers. You were still deciding if your best-laid plans should be set on fire, skeptical that all of this was just his sleight of hand. 
“Why’d you break up with me?” You asked, parting your lips. Watching as Rafe huffed and tried to kiss you again, but you turned away and urged him to answer. “I was being petty,” He mumbled, and you heard him groan as you frowned at him and removed your touch. “Baby, please,” He said as you stepped backward, your eyes narrowing at his words. “What?” You gritted. “Look, I’m sorry. It was a stupid decision. The guys were giving me shit about how you were always the one to call it off! I just… I wanted you to be the one to come to me and ask for me back…” Rafe trailed as he had no better word to explain his reasoning for breaking up with you. “You broke up with me because of your fucking pride!?” You almost screamed in anger. “I’m sorry, baby, please; I was so stupid.” Rafe sighed and tried to pull you to him; the big man he was had gone for the moment as his blue eyes pleaded with you. 
You took in a deep breath and your senses were consumed by the smell of him. Your ears rang with the sound of his voice begging for your forgiveness. Your skin tingled by his touch. You breathed heavily and shook your head. “You’re so immature,” You sighed and pulled him down by his shirt to kiss his lips. Rafe smirked against your lips and savored the taste of you that he had longed for. “Am I forgiven?” He panted as you two parted; you stayed silent for a moment. Gazing at his eyes that were alight with hope. “Depends on how many times you make me come tonight,” You whispered against his lips, watching as his blue orbs turned dark. You shrieked as he hoisted you up and made you wrap your legs around him, hurriedly bringing you back to his room just to show you how truly apologetic he was. 
You hummed in delight as Rafe sucked your tit, his other hand pinching the other bud. His body pushed you against the back of his bedroom door, and your hips moved to seek friction. “I missed you so much, baby,” Rafe groaned between the valley of your chest, biting and sucking your skin, leaving it red and most probably bruised. You bit your lip in anticipation as he tossed you on his bed. He watched you with a smirk as he removed his shirt, the moonlight illuminating his muscled body. “Like the view, my girl?” He asked and slowly crawled atop your body, his fingers finding the zipper of your dress, but he was slow to undo it. “Stop teasing, you’re still not forgiven,” You groaned as his hand was trailing the inside of your thigh. “Oh, right… I’m sorry, baby,” Rafe hummed once more and placed kisses on your neck as his hand cupped your cunt. His fingers draw circles on your cloth-covered nubbin, his lips peppering kisses on your neck. 
You bit harshly on your lip as you pushed your underwear aside and finally felt the wetness he had caused. “So wet… you wanted me back as badly as I wanted you, huh, baby?” He hummed and watched as your eyes rolled back as he abruptly inserted his two fingers inside you, curling the digits and taking your breath away. “Rafe— I need you now,” You cried as his thumb laid flat on your nubbin. “Whatever you want, baby,” Rafe hummed and obliged your pleas. Stealing away his fingers and replacing them with his length. “God, so fucking tight," He grunted as he thrust into you. You could no longer hold in your moans as he pounded into you, the tip of his cock perfectly aligned with the spot in you that made you see stars and spew out moans that you were certain would be heard by those in the hallways. But you could not find care as Rafe fucked you senseless and made you reach your peak in record time. 
You panted as you came down from your high. Your boyfriend is looking at you through his hazy, lust-filled eyes. “Am I forgiven?” He asked, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, forcing him to lie on the bed and for you to be atop him. “Not yet.” 
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I had a thought for a creator but they didn't believe they were the creator and could influence others into believing it too.
The two characters are Sara kujou and yae miko
@mastadon64 here you go!
Gaslight, Gatekeep, Godboss - Kujou Sara and Yae Miko
Kujou Sara
Cw: Sexual innuendos
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-Honestly, waking up in Teyvat, you had a hard time convincing yourself you weren’t dreaming
-(It took you tumbling down a hill and slamming into a particularly sharp rock to realize it was not a dream. Also, ow)
-(You ignored the way your blood was golden. You were pretty sure you’d never seen the Genshin characters bleed anyways. It was probably just censoring. Totally.)
-Some way or another, you ended up in Inazuma
-Honestly, it wasn’t as bad as you were expecting
-Most of the creatures were pretty chill, and as long as you avoided the people, you didn’t get in much trouble
-And then you kicked a Tenryou commission officer in the face and got arrested
-You know, jail wasn’t as bad as you expected either!
-Your cellmates weren’t too bad either- one of them asked you if you were god, which was weird, because you didn’t look anything like the Shogun, but you gave him a stick of dango and he shut up
-(You might not have been a god, but the fact that you managed to keep your inventory from the game was the closest thing to a divine blessing that you could imagine. Who needs a gnosis when you have your own pocket dimension?)
-It’s about half an hour before you’re taken from your cell for questioning
-You walk into a small interrogation room, shock igniting in your chest as you spot Kujou Sara
-Wasn’t she important?
-Was kicking that guy in the face really such a grave offense?
-“Are you the Creator God?” She asks, deathly serious
-Why did people keep asking you this???
-You’re pretty sure you don’t look too godly, garbed in stolen clothes that you’re ninety percent sure you put on wrong, a fading bite mark on your arm from when you tried to pet a rifthound, leaves in your hair. Honestly, you looked pretty disheveled, and…
-“Is that your way of saying you think I’m hot? Like… godly or whatever?”
-Considering the way the Tengu’s face turns a vibrant red, you’re either very right, or very wrong
-It’d be funnier if you were right though, so you press on
-“I mean, not that I’m not into it, but I’m feeling kinda iffy about the power dynamic here- prisoner and cop is a cute trope and all, but not all that smart in real life, I mean I get it if it’s a kink or whatever, I know handcuffs are attractive, but as of right now it’s immoral-”
-“Shut up. Please.” Sara mumbled, covering her red face with her hand. Her hair has more volume than usual, tiny sparks of static dancing between the strands
-“… I mean after I get out of prison I’d totally be down to go on a date, and if you feed me well enough I might even let you handcuff me.” You add.
-The silence in the room is heavy
-“Get out.”
-“Yes ma’am. Hm. No. Yes Mommy? Yes Master-“
-You’re cut off by an electrically charged arrow striking the wall beside your head.
-“Out.”
-“Okay!”
-You’re released from prison three days later, now with a whole gaggle of new friends from criminals
-(You ignored the fact that some of them made really important sounding speeches swearing their fealty to you. Also the small shrine they were building in your honor. If you didn’t acknowledge it, it didn’t exist)
-You were surprised that as soon as you left, you were met with a glaring Kujou Sara, who takes your hand in her own
-“Am I being arrested again?”
-“… I’m going to take you on a date. And then I’m going to handcuff you.”
-“Yes Mommy!”
-“I Will Shoot You Again.”
Yae Miko
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-You had to admit, stumbling upon a small shrine that seemed to be dedicated to your doppelgänger was creepy
-But you had also just been Isekaied to video game land, so you were pretty adaptable at the moment.
-Or high on adrenaline.
-You pick up one of the Sunsiettas from the shrine, biting down and relaxing, until-
-“Your excellency?!” A voice squeaks, and looking up you see a very frazzled shrine maiden staring at you.
-“Uh. No?” You say, swallowing the Sunsietta.
-The shrine maiden starts sobbing. “Your excellency!”
-“Oh- no- I’m- uh- I’m like you? You know? I’m uh… a messiah? Priest? Prophet? Whatever gets you to stop crying?” You awkwardly pat her head.
-“You- you’re the Creators chosen one?” She blubbers.
-“Uh. Yeah. Totally. Stop crying.”
-“CHOSEN ONE!” And she’s crying again
-After a lot of crying, you’re led to the Grand Narukami shrine, where you’re introduced to the head shrine maiden as the chosen one
-“… Are you sure she’s not just the creator?”
-“You flatter me. I’m just gods favoritist and most specialist little princess.”
-The Kitsune likes this. Perhaps too much, but we’ll let her have her fun
-And thus, the war to get you to admit that you’re the Creator begins, hidden under the guise of her introducing you to chosen one duties
-She takes you on a pilgrimage all across Inazuma first, going to the most dangerous places possible just to put you in danger and save you at the last second, disappointed that you never use godly powers to save (read: reveal) yourself
-She meditates with you, and paints obscure markings on your face when you fall asleep, which you have to pass off as messages from the creator
-She takes you to meet the Shogun, but after leaving you alone for five minutes, returns to you teaching her poker and robbing her blind. You cited divine luck and she pretended she didn’t notice the cards stuffed inside your sleeve
-It ends pretty anticlimactically, actually
-She’s introducing you to the local foxes, when you trip over a rock and face plant into the floor
-And get a nose bleed
-Miko can’t help but doubling over in laughter at the sight of your pout as golden blood drips down your face
-“And how are you explaining this one, Oh revered Chosen One?”
-“Genetic condition.”
-The laughter doubles
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josephtrohman · 11 months
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that was the most insane best emo night i EVER could have hoped for even with its downsides
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thekidsarentalright · 2 years
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i literally dont care anymore idc if ur joking if anytime new fob songs are brought up or what the topic of already existing fob songs are comes up u immediately talk about petekey i hate u you are my archenemy i hope u explode u are so so so annoying amen
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nomaishuttle · 8 months
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sometimes you watch a show from anytime before like 2016 and its like woo this is awesome and then somethjng happens in it and youre likenog thus is from before 2016.
#this is abt spn and also orphan black sry.#orphan black hasnt had anything super odd as far as i remember.. Aside from tony my archnemesis and cosimas Fucking hair oh my god#i think like 90% of the reason i dont like cosima aside from she judt kind of annoys me a lot and has awful taste in women is her hair#its so weird bc shes like a lesbian stoner stem major so youd think id wont her So soso much given my track record. stares out the window.#but she annoys me so much sometimes its like Cosima shut the fuck up dump delphine and if you make me look at shay again im going to kill#you before your genetic disease does. WHATEVER#looking out the window wistfully I couldve made the show so much better#anyways. eith spn the Pre 2016ness is mainly The racism and The sexism and The cultural. everything#isrg theres this one ep of spn that i was like omf yass bc it had a little kid ghost who died from drowning. which given youd think#itd freak me out and it does bc drowning. but i also loveee a dead little kid ghost and i especially love adead kid ghost haunting one of#their friends/siblings whos old noe you know. so i was like woo#and then they were like and her nanny was black Maybe its voodoo!!!!! and i was immediately like excalibur#and then it was legit a rollercoaster bc i was like Shut up about voodoo shut up about it and they were like no it couldnt have been the#nanny it was the sister and i was like thats#better . and they were like THE SISTER IS DOING VOODOO qnd it was like oh my god okay.#idr what it ended up being in the end. i was so exhausted by the end of it#but the 2014ness of orphan black is mainly. ok im gonna be real its the episode after donnie and alison become drug dealers and theres that#montage of them on the bed with all the money. the cringe i cronged#it was like such a soberingreminder i was like Woo show show show i love show and then that happened and i was like This show is from 2014.
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hnrye · 6 months
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okay. rewatched be more chill for the first time since like age 12 or whatever and tbh. actually still good. rant in tags i am cringe but i am free etc.
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seat-safety-switch · 11 months
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Police officers could solve real problems. They could be out there feeding hot soup to the unhoused, making sure that hazardous garbage is kept away from daycares, or doing something about all these birds that keep shitting on my car. Instead of those productive things, Officer Bringdown is here, on the side of the road, spending my tax money to hand me a ticket for more of my money.
Or at least he would be, if he could figure out how to work his dorky little ticket printer. You see, I have an ace up my sleeve. Not only is my car old, and difficult to place, but I’ve made certain modifications to the vehicle that render its legal state “complicated.” My shark of an attorney, Max, brags about the bear trap of intermingled kit-car laws and year-of-manufacture exclusions that have led to this vehicle being one hundred percent approved-of by the government, in any condition I dictate, whether they meant to or not.
“Uhh, how do you spell ‘Duesenberg’ again?” the cop asks, betraying his lack of education in the classics. I spell it out for him, and explain again that the replica registration exception of December 1986 means that a 1921 Model J does not need to have operational turn signals or a functional speedometer.
“How is this a replica of a 1921 car? It says Plymouth on the hood.” he asks me suspiciously, behind mirrored aviator shades. I am familiar with this shift in conversation. I see now that he has fallen into the first legal pit without complaint. I was hoping for a more worthy opponent.
“Officer, has the state rendered upon you an encyclopedic knowledge and unimpeachable legal authority of what a 1921 Duesenberg Model J consists and does not consist of?” I ask him, reading off a sheet that has been provided by my attorney, who would really rather that I shut the fuck up entirely, but who I know secretly thrills at the chance to end another state trooper’s career in the court of law in which he is akin to a walking god. Dude has groupies.
The cop demurs, tries to change the subject, save some face. “What’s that smell?” he asks.
“Hydrazine.”
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buckyalpine · 6 months
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Bucky can’t stand you
Smuttay Smuttay. Imagine Bucky finding you to be the most infuriating person he's ever met in his entire life. He used to strongly believe you should never hit a woman. Being a man from the 40's, he believed that with his entire heart and soul because he was one of the few who hated the way some women were treated by their husbands.
That was until he met you.
God, he was ready to beat your ass.
"Didn't you say you'd never hit a woman" Sam snorted while Bucky's jaw ticked, having complained about you for half an hour straight while you went off the plan completely, taking the mission into your own hands.
"That's not a woman, that's the devil spawn" Bucky said incredulously, watching you make your way to the target with a flirty smirk on your face "How and why is she like this"
"Shut up" you hissed through the coms, your hips swaying as you walked away. "
You pissed him off and you made his cock hard.
You ran your mouth to no end and you made him leak.
You had such an attitude and he'd masturbated d to you more times than he could count.
He hated you.
He hated you so much.
"You're gonna screw this mission up if you keep acting like a desperate whore" Bucky growled as you slinked onto the targets lap, effortlessly pocketing the pen drive from his blazer while skimming your hands all over him. The man was none the wiser, groping your ass, the action making Bucky's blood pressure boil.
You whispered something in his ear before hopping off, throwing a wink over your shoulder before disappearing through the exit of the bar and into the getaway car, signaling to Sam and Bucky that you were successful.
He doesn't breathe a word to you until you were all a the safehouse, glaring at you the entire time while pouring himself a drink.
"Try not to kill each other, I'm going to bed" Sam threw his hands up in defeat, seeing as the both of you would never reach a truce. You shrugged, rolling your eyes at the soldier, making your way to your room instead. Bucky down the dark liquid that burned his throat before following you, his brooding figure brushing your back as you entered your room.
"There a problem Barnes?" You sassed, gasping when he gripped your hair and yanked you back, shoving you against the wall. His metal arm wrapped around your throat, squeezing the sides just enough to make your breaths lighter, his pupils dilated to 100.
"You have a real problem, you know that?" He growled lowly making your stomach flip, your pulse racing a the scent of his cologne when he stood so close to you.
"Yeah? And whats that" your attitude faltered as he pressed his chest against yours, his warm breath fanning on your face.
"You. Never. Listen. It's infuriating. So tell me. What should I do" It took everything in him not to push you down onto your knees, forcing your into submission for once. "You're a brat" He hissed, eyes growing wide when he could smell your arousal which you tried to hide, your thighs squeezing together giving you away.
"Fuck this" Bucky tossed you onto the bed, pulling out the switch blade he had in his pocket. Your dress was sliced off before you could blink, your lingerie torn off next.
"Bucky, what-
Before you could say anything else, he gripped your jaw, squeezing your cheeks together, making you pout with a needy whimper. He gave you a satisfied smirk, running the handle of the knife through your folds, gathering your slick before licking it clean off with a groan.
"M'gonna fuck you and you're gonna take it, then you're gonna thank your Sargent for fucking the brat out of you, understand?"
You nodded, yelping when he smacked your cheek, shaking his head.
"Use your words, kitten"
"Yes, Sargent" You whispered, your heart hammering out of your chest as he started to undress himself, his belt buckle hitting the floor. A new wave of arousal pooled between your legs as he stood naked before you, his cock standing tall and proud. He cocked an eye brow at the way you stared at him, practically drooling as he pumped his length a few times.
He crawled onto the bed, shoving your legs apart, flicking his cock through your folds and slamming into you without warning, making you take all of him at once.
You cried out in pleasure, your arms and legs wrapping around him to ground yourself some how, your cunt fluttering and struggling to accommodate for his girth.
"Buck-Sargent-too-s'too thick" You moaned as he drew his hips back and started to pound into you, snarling with pleasure at the feelings of your nails raking down his back. "SARGENT PLEASE"
"Thats right, beg your Sargent to stop baby, cry when I ruin you with my fat cock" He sat back on his heels, throwing your legs over his shoulders to get even deeper angle, your eyes rolling back until they nearly crossed. "Lookit you going all dumb on my cock baby, such a needy little pussy"
You didn't get a chance to respond, squeaking when he manhandled you till your face was pushed against the mattress with your ass in the air. He spanked your ass raw, shoving his cock back in, setting in a brutal pace.
"Always acting so sassy, making my dick so hard with those stupid skimpy outfits of yours. You're a little slut but you're my slut, understand kitten?"
"Y-Yes-yes-yes-so-good don'on god don't stop" You slurred out, as he rammed into your pussy, the headboard denting the wall with each thrust, slamming your hips back against him.
"That's it. Fucking take it, Nast little slut, sitting in any mans lap, now look at you, huh. Look whose cock you're crying over lil mama, tell me whose cock your all soaked for"
"Yours sargent! all for-you" You panted while his sinful fingers moved to rub your clit, his pace growing sloppy, blinding pleasure starting to consume you both.
"OH FUCKKK I'm gonna cum!!" You cried out, wailing into the sheets, the vulgar sounds of skin on skin carrying through the room. Bucky moaned, fucking you harder, his head thrown back feeling your pussy suck him in deeper.
"Cum, cum on my dick, c'mon baby, give it to me, thats it lil mama, milk my cock-shit-i'm cumming!" Bucky let out a guttural moan feeling you squeeze and pulse around his cock, stilling his hips as he throbbed ropes of his spend into you. You both collapsed onto the bed, blindly reaching for each other with out saying another word, letting soft kisses and cuddles throughout the night do the rest of the talking.
-
"Morning Sam-
"You both owe me money for therapy"
"Sam-
"You shut up before I pawn a piece of that arm"
"Sam-
"You went at it like rabbits"
"Sam-
"I think the bed almost broke into my room"
"Sam-
"I'm never calling you Sargent again, you've tainted the word for me"
"Sam-
"My ears have never been so violated"
Bucky smirked, wrapping his arm around your waist, holding you together. You giggled while Sam gagged in the background again (he 100% approves of you two together but he'll never tell Bucky that).
"Nasty fucks"
5K notes · View notes
queers-gambit · 8 months
Text
God's Plan
prompt: your boyfriend carries the worst parts of his job home, bringing to life one of your deepest-seeded insecurities. or when Carmy calls you clingy.
pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader pairing: Carmy x Peach
fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear
word count: 3.3k+
note: she's short. she's to the point. author doesn't want to hear a GODDAMN THING about "glorifying" toxic relationships. shut the fuck up, eat your cereal, read the fic or just scroll away.
warnings: cursing, small angst, short fic, author mildly gave up, hurt with no real comfort, allusion to toxic family relationship, insecurity, not edited.
part two: Two to Tango
browse Clingy Baby collection masterlist here
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"Hey, what're you still doin' here?"
You glanced up from your computer, smiling at your coworker, "Just trying to get the study notes finished so they can be used for the analysis."
"Okay...? But you realize what time it is, right?"
You hummed, glancing at the analog clock, "Just about 7?"
"Yeah, so, go home," she chuckled. "Work's still gonna be here tomorrow."
"I'll see you then," you dismissed softly, watching her smile and turn away from your desk. You tried to get back into work, but the truth was, you felt overly burned out, but still wanted to work because it'd make you feel better being "good" at your job.
So, in reality, you didn't get home until 10:56 pm, yet still beat Carmy. You ate something simple, cleaned up, got a shower, and crashed into bed. You didn't know the time, but Carmy eventually came home; his arm heavy around you when settling for sleep.
You were the first up and out the door the next morning, just barely seeing Carmy when he got up for coffee. You managed a single kiss before rushing away, needing to get to work on time. When you got there, your entire morning was blocked for client meetings, then you took lunch, later, team meetings, and then the last hour or so of work was meant for individual recreation.
Another day of staying late, trying to finish work you thought was important. Another day of getting home late, missing your man, going to bed, and only seeing him the following morning.
However, this time at work, your boss told you that the analysis meetings were pushed back by a week... So, technically, you stayed late and busted your ass for no literal reason! And your coworker's entire cup of coffee spilled on you. And your Outlook email was under maintenance, so, you couldn't really work. And then, to top off a really shitty week, your car was hit in the parking lot and now had a huge fucking dent.
You were beat.
You were overwhelmed.
You were miserable, stressed, righteously confused.
You didn't stay late that night. Instead, you left at a normal hour and texted Carmy:
what time do you think you'll be off?
He replied when you got to your car:
maybe around 8?
You sniffled, nodding, answering:
okay, see you when you get home.
As you exited the parking lot, he replied:
what? you're off?
And you answered:
yeah, couldn't stand being there much longer. think you could get off a little early?
When you made three turns, he sent back:
i'll try, peach 💙
When you got home, you felt utterly defeated. Life felt like a never ending shitshow that refused to alleviate most of the stress you forced to endure. You were in tears by the time you got in the door, angrily stripping and getting a long, hot shower. You cried a little longer. When you got out, you got dressed in cozy shorts and one of Carmy's sweatshirts; going about a few household chores when you realized it was already past 9.
You didn't really want to, but you texted Carmy again,
hey, are you gonna be much later?
You made a simple meal, eating it in silence. When you were doing dishes, Carmy answered,
i don't know, going over menu items with syd. text you on my way home
You just went to bed, exhaustion from the week catching up to you.
Sometime later, you felt Carmy crawl into bed beside you. You were only half awake, but still turned over and nestled into his chest, hearing him sigh. "You're home late," you mumbled.
"Sorry f'wakin' you, Peach," he whispered, pecking your forehead. "You good, baby?"
"S'been a long fuckin' week," you squeezed him.
He sighed, "Sorry it was rough, Peach, but hey, hey, back up a little, 's kinda warm."
"But I haven't seen you."
"I know, but it's just warm. We'll cuddle in the morning, okay?" You only sighed and turned back over to face away from him. You resettled with your pillow, just settling when he asked in a hardened tone, "You mad?"
"No, Carmen, go to sleep."
"You sound mad."
"I'm not."
"I don't mean to piss you off, it's just been a long night f'me and I don't want to cuddle right now," he said in a sharp tone that made your stomach coil and churn.
"Shut up, I'm not mad, Carmen, go to sleep."
He scoffed, your irritation spiking. "You're really fucking mad 'cause I don't want you laying on me right now?"
"No, Carmen, Jesus - "
"Callin' me fuckin' Carmen doesn't help," he snapped.
You sat up and turned to him, "You want me to be mad? Maybe I'm a little pissed off that I've barely seen my boyfriend this week! Not like you've made an effort to speak to me, but I've had a pretty shitty time at work, too - so, excuse the fuck outta me for feeling disappointed!"
"Disappointed in fucking what, Peach? In not wanting t'cuddle right now?"
"Maybe, yeah! I'm upset, stressed out, maybe I just wanted some comfort, God! Now you're all up in arms, I just wanted to go to sleep - but no, you want to pick at me!"
"Oh, Jesus, fucking Christ! You couldn't just talk to me about you having a shitty week, you gotta be laid up on me? When the fuck did you get so Goddamn clingy and desperate for fucking attention? Huh? So fucking desperate for love? Sorry you had a shitty week, darling, but you're not alone in that. Sorry if it's fucking hot and I just want to sleep."
Feeling yourself fighting a losing battle because he wasn't listening, you just sighed, "Okay, Carmen."
He scoffed again, turning over to face away from you, "Know what? Fuck you, sweetheart."
You stared at his back for a long minute, feeling shocked by his words. "You can be such a fucking dick, you know that?" You snapped, standing from bed.
"And you can be a dramatic bitch."
"Yeah, that's me, the bitch you chose, huh!?" You rolled your eyes and nodded sarcastically; taking the blanket from the end of the bed, figuring he wouldn't miss it since he was so fucking hot. With only your phone and charger, you went out to the living room and crashed on the couch; covering up and crying quietly into a pillow from the overwhelming stress built in your chest. You felt guilt plunging your stomach, tearing it apart; feeling as if it were your fault for having physical touch as a love language.
Sleep evaded you that night. About an hour before your alarm, you called in sick and shut your phone off, resettling in misery as Carmy left the bedroom for work. You didn't move, never opened your eyes. However, they popped open in surprise when Carmen shoved your shoulder, "Hey."
"What?" You muttered.
"You're late for work."
"Called in."
He snorted, "Yeah, must be nice."
You didn't say anything else, feeling utterly defeated by his sharp words. The lack of response made Carmy pause and glance over at you from the kitchen, honest surprise coloring his system because he usually knew you to bite back. But you were quiet and still, the only indication you were even alive being the slow drag of your shoulders.
He let the door slam after he left for work, and you instantly sobbed. What you didn't know was that Carmy had come back, forgetting something mundane, and came to a halt outside the door when he heard you crying. He felt guilty, but Carmy wasn't usually one to confront problems; he instead ran away, like always.
After a night of exhaustion, you finally cry yourself to sleep.
When Carmy got home that night after work, he found you still huddled on the couch. After a look around, he realized you hadn't moved all day; nothing to eat, nothing to drink... He wanted to wake you but still felt so fucking irritated from his job that the idea of reconciling with you felt far fetched. So, he did what he did best and isolated himself by going to the gym for a few hours.
You still hadn't woken up when he got back.
So, he just went to bed; hating sleeping alone but hating his pride more because it refused to let him get up and go get you. Carry you to bed. Smother you in apologies. Beg for forgiveness. He was cold that night.
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You were awake around 4 am.
The entire apartment felt as cold and aloof as your boyfriend. You felt so silly for still being there, knowing you paid for an apartment of your own, but liking that Carmy's place was closer to your work. And he never asked you to leave, in fact, the times you went home, he was calling you within hours to beg you to come back because he hated sleeping alone.
Whatever happened to that lad? The one who was so in-love with you that he would desperately ask you to come "home" to him? Who was this man now? Who called you clingy, desperate... A bitch.
You could only stand to make coffee, feeling powerless in this tension. You didn't want him to ignore you any longer, feeling like you'd drop to your knees for his forgiveness if it would end this feud; but you weren't so naïve. You spent several long minutes mentally prepping yourself for more anxiety, telling yourself you could handle the day if you just powered through it. Everything should be fine so long as you didn't do anything else to upset him, as long as you didn't do anything to warrant him yelling at you - again.
You finally decided on an emotion, since you could feel so many at any given point in time, and since this situation was one you've never encountered before. Carmy had brought forth one of your biggest insecurities and then smashed it in your face like punk-ass siblings did to your birthday cake. You decided you were hurt by his words, tone, and actions; you were hurt by the man you loved unconditionally, and that was a terrifying thought on its own. He was once a man you thought couldn't do any wrong, to now being a man you were unsure of how to even speak to; fearful, as you once were as a child, to upset him and create hostility directed at you.
Carmy often forgot he didn't have a monopoly on toxic, complicated family dynamics, but being that Mikey was still so fresh for him, you kept quiet about your own issues in an effort to be a loving, supportive girlfriend. Yet even while trying not to upset anyone, to create tension, you somehow managed to. You felt your heart and soul shrivel into a withered raisin when you remembered your family and how they constantly put you down; saying that nobody wanted a girl like you who tried, tried, and tried again only to fail. They thought you were damaged goods, treated you as such and always smeared your name in the mud whenever you thought you had found someone to love you and be loved by you.
All that trauma was rearing its ugly head now, making doubt sink into the cracks of your relationship. No matter how hard he tried, Carmy couldn't ever take those words back once they've been said, and he had to understand that going forward, this would strain your relationship. Taking anger and frustration out on you was inappropriate, putting a bad taste in your mouth; making you wonder how the hell you'd ever move past this when his words circled your head like water draining from the sink.
Sometime around 9 am, you were curled up on the couch with your coffee and a book; Saturday dragging by slowly to allow you the reprieve of being off work. The bedroom door opened and you held your breath; sweat breaking out on your brow; heart stammering in your chest. When he came out, Carmy didn't look at you, which allowed you to watch him. He made a to-go cup of coffee, then shouldered his backpack before heading for the door.
"Carmy?" You asked softly in confusion, "I thought you were off today?"
"I am," he replied stiffly, "but I gotta run errands."
You didn't have time to respond before he was storming out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him. You blinked in shock, confusion plunging your heart to your feet as you realized he didn't ask you to join him, in fact, he didn't appear to want to tell you his plans until you had to ask directly when he was walking out the door. You felt terrible, more tears swelling in your eyes at the discord your boyfriend prolonged.
Something in your heart snapped and you stood from your seat. With anger coursing through your veins, you turned into a miniature tornado and quickly started gathering whatever you could get your hands on that belonged to you. You had enough, you felt hurt, yes, we established this, but then the disrespect started to overflow out of your heart to color your blood. Never linger where you're not wanted, you should never tear yourself down to that level. Never should have to second guess yourself, either - especially in a space where you're supposed to be safe.
You started to wonder: is it clingy if you made dinner and saved him a plate? Is it clingy if you did his laundry? What about cuddling? Is that clingy? Well, apparently! What else are you wrong about? If you texted him? Asked his opinion? What about if you held his hand - is that clingy, too? Probably!
Physical touch and quality time were your love languages, but after this reaction, you wondered if everything you'd do from now on would be judged? Would you be crucified for showing your love? For trying to participate in your relationship?
All day, you moved your stuff back to your apartment. All shoes, clothes, purses, make-up, haircare and skincare products - any and all period products, too. You left fucking nothing; going as far as to lay face-down the photo of your two on his bedside stand. You'd of taken it, too, but you felt sick at the thought so you left it for him. Sunday night, you didn't return to his apartment, and Carmy didn't call to say goodnight; both figuring the other was still pissed off. Your Monday was long and annoying, but once it was over, you had to admit, it was strange returning to an empty apartment, heat up leftovers, eat while watching some Netflix show, and then crashing into bed - moving mechanically.
Days passed uneventfully, albeit, a bit sluggishly. And then, Thursday arrived, and with it, the shit that would hit the fan.
You were enraptured in this book by Anne Tyler called "Dinner At The Homesick Restaurant," and couldn't stop reading it. You nursed a mug of tea, the outside darkening with an approaching thunderstorm that would talk to you in the silence and send bolts of lightning to illuminate the city. A shrill ringtone then played, making you jump slightly and glance at your phone only to see Carmy's contact name and photo.
You stare at your phone for a long moment, and then, after convincing yourself that ignoring him would only add fuel to the fire, answered quietly, "Hello?"
"Peach? Hey, uh... Are you, um, still at work?"
"No?"
"Where are you, then?"
"I'm home."
"No, you're not."
"Yes, I am."
"I'm standing right here and you're not, baby, unless you got superpowers or something?" He chuckled nervously, hearing nothing on your end. "In fact, I, uh... I don't see any of your things. You move 'em?"
He'd never admit it, but your personal touch in his living space transformed it into a home; and now that they were all gone, he hated how cold, dreary, and grey the apartment felt.
"Carmy, I mean my home. You know? The apartment I still pay for?"
"Oh, well... Why're you there?"
"Why wouldn't I be? I had to bring my stuff back and leave it somewhere safe."
"It was safe here, Peach," he argued.
"Yeah, but it's your space and last thing I need is to be yelled at and insulted again for being clingy 'cause I left clothes at your apartment."
"Fuc'k's sake," You heard him hiss under his breath, bringing tears to your eyes. "You know I don't mind, I want you to leave shit here so it's easier on you to commute. Look, you know it's Thursday, right? Does our standing date night ring any bells?"
"Okay, but we haven't honored that in weeks? You know, 'cause you've been really busy."
"I thought we could get back into it tonight."
You sighed, turning the page in your book, "No, I don't think so, but thanks anyway."
He took a long pause, asking nervously, "What's wrong, Peach?"
"Nothing. Is there anything else, Carmen? I'm in the middle of shit."
"Oh, uh, n-no, I guess that's it. You comin' over tomorrow?"
"No. I told my brother I'd help him this weekend."
"But tomorrow's... Friday?"
"Yeah, that's how a calendar works. I have to travel to get to him," you scoffed.
"You didn't think to tell me?"
"Why would I?"
"You tell me everything! You don't think that's something I should know? That my girl's not even gonna be here this weekend?"
"Well, you're the one who said I was fucking clingy, remember!?" You finally snapped. "So, I'm giving you all that space you wanted!"
"Baby - "
"No, it's a great idea. We need space, Carmen; this isn't fair to either of us anymore," you spoke seriously, the line going quiet.
"What?"
"We need space from this relationship."
"I don't. I don't need space, Peach, baby, no, just listen, okay? I'm so sorry, I came home stressed out and I took it out on you. I'm sorry, I really am, this isn't what I want. Okay? I'm sorry. Just - come back home and we can - "
"No, you know what? I think I'm the one who needs this space," you snapped. "You said some pretty fucked up things, Carmen, that you can't ever take back, and now that I know, I can't un-know what you think about me. So, I need time to sort myself out."
"What're you saying? A-Are you breaking up with me?"
"Not yet, no."
"Baby, don't do this. C'mon, okay? I'm sorry, baby, I-I-I was wrong for what I said, I didn't - I didn't mean it! None of it, okay? Know I love you, baby, please, just come home, okay? I'm so sorry, I love that you wanna be close to me, I shouldn't've pushed you away. I'm sorry, okay? Please, baby, I'm so sorry. I need you, Peach, please. Just come home, we'll talk it through, I promise, no yelling - "
"I think you already said it all. Your words were 'clingy' and 'desperate'. Oh, and you also called me a 'bitch', so, I'd hate to be the bitch that makes your already stressful life all the harder."
"I didn't mean that - "
"I gotta go, Carmen, we'll talk later, okay? Goodnight."
He froze when he listened to those three distinct beeps that indicated you hung up on him. Confusion and hurt now seeped into the cracks of Carmy's heart; wondering when the hell he'd become so Goddamn self destructive to ruin the best thing he's ever had - you. The apartment might as well turned into ice with the way the light left, your departure suddenly haunting him.
When will these boys learn? The love of a good woman is rare, they'd only ever be so lucky as to think they deserve a woman like you. Nobody ever gets to guilt you for your love language(s) and then grovel for forgiveness. You deserve better, you deserve more; whether you could see that right now or not, you deserved to be loved in the best way for you. And sometimes, that means walking away from something you once thought was exactly what you wanted, but perhaps, never what you needed - call that God's Plan.
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[ part two: ] Two to Tango
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wonijinjin · 3 months
Text
being in a relationship with kim mingyu: silly headcanons
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synopsis: my silly thoughts on how it would be to live and be in a relationship with mingyu, @babyleostuff thank you for helping me list these and listening to me talking about these scenarios i loved it
word count: 1.2k | genre: fluff, humour/crack | pairing: mingyu x f! reader | warnings: mentions of dresses, food, diets, reader being overall somewhat smaller than mingyu
- okay so mingyu is a goofy man we all know this, but here are some things about living with him and being his girlfriend that would make you go crazy (in both good and bad ways)
- he would scare the shit out of you every morning since his little confused puppy face and messy hair directly in your face would be such a shocker every single time you wake up in the same bed as him, especially if you went to bed alone and he snuck into bed during the night if he worked late. this would result in you screaming you head off and him being so surprised aswell he might even fall off the bed lmao.
- sleeping with him also includes him being the most comfortable pillow ever, but there would be a price you would have to pay for it; he would get on top of you during the night, kinda like a nice free weighed blanket, except the fact that he would be so heavy after some time you couldn’t breathe and would have to hit him continuously until he wakes up.
- this man would definitely be a pathological liar when it comes to stories about him being brave over something, like my man literally caught a single fly or bug and he would be like “yeah that’s right i tamed a 10 meters long python.” also he would not shut up about it, bringing it up every time there’s a chance, but when you would actually need help getting rid of an insect he would run away crying like the baby he is.
- he would love to cook for you, but would turn into the biggest clutz when you are in charge in the kitchen; you would be peacefully cooking when he would come into the room upon smelling the fruit of your hard work, making everything go wrong; the moment this man appears next to you with the sentence “oh my god i wanna help you you know how much i love cooking, especially with you.” your peace and quiet would be over, in the end resulting in you having to clean up all the mess he made while he sits on the couch as a punishment after you scolded him. (after this incident you would probably never allow him to help you cook, only the other way around)
- he adores sundresses and overall cutesy summer clothes, you cannot tell me otherwise, he would be hypnotised by the way the dress looked on you, trying to match his shirt with it. he would be spinning you around all day to some kind of music, loving the way the dress flows, how the fabric feels on his hands, and how cute you look in his arms, really making the moment feel like a real fairytale.
- mingyu’s brain works faster than light so it is really hard to understand what he says, since he’s always talking with such speed which would result in you having to stop him every 5 minutes to tell him to slow down and him being confused about why you cannot keep up with him, saying that he always talks like this. (mingyu babes that doesn’t mean it was understandable before lmao)
- another thing connected to him speaking is his cute little lisp; you would always tease him for it (as you do for everything else) in a cute way and he would be such a drama queen saying that you were the meanest, when in reality you loved it so much you could burst from affection every time this man opened his mouth.
- he would insist on driving you everywhere; doesn’t matter if you have your drivers licence or not mingyu would love you to be his passenger princess. he would put on sunglassses to seem cool while he is driving with one hand, his other on your thigh, looking at you from time to time while you stared at him shamelessly, drooling over how good he looked while driving.
- no matter how much of an organised person you are, you would probably have little arguments with him about you not washing the dishes right after cooking or leaving your books or other personal belongings scattered around the house. he just cannot help it, he is a clean freak.
- mingyu would try to be romantic by catching you off guard with a kiss, but would bump his forehead with yours and would have to tend to the ache in both of your temples after the incident, making him sulky and worried about you, and of course ashamed that he was clumsy yet again. (don’t worry you would laugh it off, making it up to him by giving him many many kisses)
- people would always assume that he wore the pants in the relationship but in reality i think your roles would be very well balanced. he may be a gentle person but he wouldn’t be afraid to speak up on your behalf if needed, always prioritising your protection.
- he would let you do his skincare to cheer you up when you had a bad day, since your stress relief comes from babying him (like fr who wouldn’t want to baby this cutie?), so he would be patiently sitting while you applied every serum and sheet mask existing on the planet to his face.
- his hugs are one of the best things in the world, being engulfed by his large frame would always be so comforting, him letting you inhale the scent of his cologne for as long as you need.
- he is a gymrat as everyone knows, and he would insist on you going to the gym with him at least once. you don’t have to worry if you are not a gym girly, because he wants you there to help him; he would ask you to sit on his back while doing pushups, or to get on top of some of the equipment, basically he would use you as human weights, kissing you every time he came up to where you were positioned, sheepishly smiling at you as you watched his big muscles work in awe.
- he would get so shy and giggly if you complimented him, like he has a big ego of course he knows he is handsome, but if the praise comes from you he would be melting and giggling like the babygirl he is.
- he loves to eat and loves meat; finding him grilling randomly in the backyard of the house at like midnight wouldn’t be a surprising occurrence.
- mingyu would stuff you full of food every chance he gets, no questions asked. he eats very well as we know (as he should!) because well for those muscles and the amount of workouts he does he needs the energy to be fair; whenever he eats you need to have a bite with him too, even if you say you are dieting or aren’t hungry he doesn’t care; he just feeds you. you cannot escape especially if he is cooking for you.
- he loves to drink from time to time so on occasions when you would join him he would forget how big of a man he really is and would definitely try to lean on you for support as he would be so drunk, only to realise that he is basically crushing you to death lmao.
- he is a man with a childlike heart, so he would try to fit his tall ass figure into such small spaces, which would definitely result in needing your help to pull him out of like children’s playground swings and stuff, poor guy would be whining so loudly about his everything hurting the next day.
- lastly and most importantly; he loves you so much he would let you do (and get him do to) anything without hesitation, and whatever bad thing you did he would never get angry at you, you are just his baby and to him you cannot do any harm even if you told him you burned his house off.
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mypoisonedvine · 7 months
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𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 | boyfriend's dad!cillian murphy x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | for some reason, your first instinct after the breakup was to talk to his parents; maybe because you'd come sort of uniquely close to them, for a relatively short relationship. you might not have gone to their house if you'd known you'd find mr. murphy there alone...
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 4k
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (18+ ONLY!! unprotected sex, creampie, oral m and f receiving), age gap (reader's age unspecified, cillian is 45+), hurt/comfort (but, you know, sexual comfort), infidelity, slight manipulation/coercion since the reader is very vulnerable at the time, somewhat inexperienced reader, degradation and praise, a little bit of breathplay, hair pulling, slight dacryphilia?, reader is slightly implied to be an immigrant/foreigner
note: yes I use his real name but this is just fiction and not meant to have anything to do with the real cillian murphy or his life/family so please keep that in mind!
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He had a smile on his face as he opened the door and greeted you, but it fell instantly when he saw you biting down on your quivering lip, looking down to hide how red and watery your eyes were.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he asked, voice heavy with concern as he reached out and rubbed your shoulder. "Oh, god— come in, come in— what's going on?"
He ushered you into the house, shutting the door behind you and wrapping his arm around you as you sniffled. "I-I'm sorry—" you began instantly.  “I thought— I don’t know why I even came here…”
But, actually, you sort of did.  You’d been wanting to talk to Cillian’s wife, hoping for some motherly advice, until he answered the door and you abruptly remembered she was in England on business for a week or something.  And you couldn’t exactly show up on somebody’s doorstep crying and say ‘oh, sorry, I thought your wife would be home— I’ll come back in a few days’.
You weren’t disappointed by running into him instead, really, you just felt a little weirder about it.  The two of you had never actually been alone before.
"Don't apologise," he soothed, "it's okay, just tell me what's happened. Are you alright?"
"Yeah," you sighed, trying to compose yourself a bit as he guided you to sit on the couch with him. "Yeah, I'm okay, I just... um, well, it's sort of stupid—"
"I'm sure it's not," he offered with a small laugh, "if it's got you this worked up."
"We, um... I think we broke up?"
"What?" he breathed, knitting his eyebrows together— he cared more than you expected... but it sort of made sense, Mr. Murphy had always made you feel welcome here. Mrs. Murphy too, maybe ina different way. Yes, it's bizarre to respond to being dumped by going to visit the guy's parents, you needed a sort of... mature, familial presence right now while you were so far from your own.
You took him through the whole drama as efficiently as possible, trying to regulate your crying so he could actually attempt to make out what you were saying. He listened thoughtfully, perhaps with too much attention compared to what you expected— after all, this was stupid college drama and he was so much more mature than all that. Still, you appreciated a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on.
"And, uh, that's how he ended it," you finished with a sigh, sniffling as you recalled the heartbreaking conversation. "He basically told me that he's too young to be stuck with one person, and he needs to 'explore his options'..."
"Then he's an idiot," Cillian groaned, "and I hate to say that about my own son— but he's a fuckin' idiot."
"Well," you mumbled, "I don't know— I thought maybe he had a point. I mean, we're pretty young..."
"But look at you, honey," he offered pityingly, "you can't tell me this is what you wanted."
"No, but—"
"And yes, you're young," he added, "but not too young— not if it's real."
You bit your lip to stop it from shaking any more, and he cooed at you gently as he reached up to rub your shoulder.  
“Poor girl,” he breathed.  “Honestly, I always… well, maybe I shouldn’t say it now…”
You looked up at him expectantly, and he smiled nervously as he glanced away.
“Well… I guess I always thought that you could do better,” he admitted with a soft laugh, “but, you know, I didn’t want to say anything, of course.  He was lucky to have you, and I just hoped he would treat you right, but…”
“I thought I was the lucky one,” you replied with a thin smile and another little sniffle.  “He could be really sweet, you know— he used to be.  And I always thought he was, uh, sort of… you know, out of my league.”
“Oh, honey, no,” Cillian frowned, moving his hand up to your face and holding your cheek, wiping a small tear away with his thumb.  “You’re gorgeous.”
You laughed awkwardly, not sure what to think— or how to think— with him looking at you like that.  “I… I don’t know, you’re sweet, but—”
“No, really,” he assured, and only when you met his gaze did you realise how close he was.  You wouldn’t call it too close, only because it didn’t bother you like you knew it should.  “You’re so beautiful.”
You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing actually came out… there was nothing to say.  He was coming closer, you knew it, and you wanted to reach up to stop him just as much as you wanted to shut your eyes and give into it.  You ended up sort of splitting the difference: you rested your hands on his shoulders, but didn’t push him away, and gasped slightly just before he kissed you.  Even a second of resistance could’ve given you some plausible deniability, but no, you fluttered your eyes shut and kissed him back; it didn’t help that you could feel how warm and strong he was through the t-shirt, holding on tighter to his shoulders with a hum.
His hands wandered to your waist, pulling you into him— and you were like putty, embarrassingly enough. With him kissing you like that, you really couldn’t do anything but let him pull you around wherever he wanted.  His lips were soft and gentle, his tongue teased you so carefully, and he even sighed against your skin in the sweetest way… you were totally helpless already.  
Sure, some part of you knew how fucking bizarre this was— that you were kissing Mr. Murphy, your boyfriend’s dad— well… ex-boyfriend’s.  You weren’t blind, you noticed how attractive he was when you met him, but you’d managed to successfully ignore it since then.  It made sense, after all, since the first thing you’d noticed about your boyfriend was his good looks… but Mr. Murphy was handsome in a totally different way.  Strong and broad— not especially massive or anything, still a lean guy— with thin streaks of grey in his hair, a patient sort of smile, subtle wrinkles around his eyes that added a sense of wisdom to his expression… really, he was a bit more of your type.  But that was something you had forced yourself not to acknowledge— until now.
You sat up slightly, holding onto his neck, breathing in sharply through your nose as you kissed him back a little harder.  You could feel him smiling— god, even just that made you feel so desperate— and he even moaned ever-so-quietly when you ran your fingers through his hair.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he breathed against your lips, breaking away just enough to make you open your eyes— his lashes seemed especially long as he looked down at your legs curled up on the couch (and his hands petting them slowly.  “You haven’t been treated properly for a long time, have you?”
You whined in the back of your throat involuntarily as you nodded— how could he see right through you like that?  It wasn’t like it was bad with your ex, it was just… not good.  Not enough.  You wanted to feel wanted, not used— not a means to an end.
“Will you let me?” he asked softly, breathing beside your ear on his way in to kiss your neck.  You gasped, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep him close, head falling back to give him as much of you as he wanted.  His tongue was fucking fiendish, the way he used it to tickle along your pulse, the sharpness of his teeth making you jolt only for him to soothe you with his plush lips.
“Yes,” you panted, “fuck— I, god, I can’t believe we’re doing this…”
He laughed a little.  “I can,” he admitted.  “All I could fucking think about since I met you…”
That surprised you— you’d never noticed anything that would’ve made you think he thought of you that way… but knowing that he, apparently, had made a shiver run up your spine.
He certainly hid it well, playing the part of the slightly-embarrassing dad and polite husband so well that you never would’ve known… oh god, his wife.  You didn’t want to think of her now, yet the unavoidable memory stirred arousal alongside guilt in your gut.  You had no idea you were this sort of person— but you weren’t really operating logically right now, anyway.
He held your face again as he pulled back, petting your cheek— it made you feel especially juvenile when he did that, holding your chin to examine you.  This wasn’t really the ideal state for you to be looked at, in your opinion, with you having been crying all evening.  But he looked amazed by you, even if it was just for a moment before he looked down at your body and smirked.
“Take this off,” he instructed, tugging at your shirt slightly.  You thought it would’ve been a little more romantic if he helped you out of it, but it was alternatively a bit sexier that he was just going to sit back and watch you strip for him.  It must have been his way of demonstrating his power over you, that you were just going to take it off and toss it aside without question.  Which, of course, you did.
He smiled proudly at the sight, and before you could even get your bra off, he started to carefully tease you through it— fingers running around the edge, moving the straps off your shoulders, tickling up your sides as you shifted nervously on the couch.  
“Look’t that,” he whispered proudly, and you took a second to realise that he was referring to your nipples getting hard enough to poke visibly through the fabric; you felt self-conscious all of a sudden, even if he was clearly enjoying what he was seeing.  “So needy, huh?”
“Y-yeah,” you admitted, whining when he reached inside the cups and ran his fingers over your breasts— they usually weren’t so sensitive.  “Fuck,” you breathed, shutting your eyes as a way to try to escape his gaze.  “I… I need you.”
“Fuck, baby, don’t talk like that,” he groaned, “m’gonna try to take my time with you— how am I supposed to do that if you say such lovely things?”
His lips were on your neck again— and he was leaning you back, laying you down under him, tugging your shorts down with a bit more urgency than he’d had before.
When you were basically naked— or at least, your bra and panties pushed out of the way enough that he could see what he needed to— he purred at the sight, grinning as you hastily undressed yourself the rest of the way.  
"Of course he couldn't appreciate this," Cillian sighed, baring his teeth just a bit. "Of course he couldn't appreciate a perfect fucking body like this— a perfect little pussy like this..."
You were about to open your mouth to say something, though you hadn't even decided yet what it would be, but only a low moan came out when he held your legs open and dove between them, humming as he lapped at your clit. You couldn't imagine why you were so sensitive, but your whole body was shaking already just from the gentlest motions of his tongue...
"Fuck," he said, muffled against your skin, before he pulled back enough to bite playfully on your thigh. "Fuck, darling, you taste delicious. Christ. You're too perfect..."
He devoured you again, exploring all over you with his tongue as your thighs kept instinctively clamping down on his head. He kept looking up at you through it all, even when you couldn't stand to meet his gaze and had to arch your back from the pleasure. "Fuck!" you yelped, grabbing tightly onto his hair. "Fuck, Mr. Murphy, I— oh, god..."
"He never made you come like this, did he?" Cillian realised with a groan, nearly growling when you shook your head. "Has anyone?"
"N-no," you shakily admitted, and he moaned around you as he suckled harder on your clit for a moment until you whined loudly.
"Oh, poor thing," he cooed, "how could anyone taste this sweet cunt of yours, and not want to spend hours between your legs?"
He didn’t need to spend hours, though— the taboo nature of the situation seemed to turn your body into overdrive, making you so sensitive and desperate… or maybe that was just the effect he had on you, but it was hard to say.
The point is, all too soon, you were shivering under him, back arching up off the couch, holding on tightly to his hair.  He hummed approvingly, even moaning against you as he slid his tongue inside; he must have been able to feel you pulsing, moving closer and closer to the edge, because he shut his eyes tight and seemed to focus harder and pushing you further until you couldn’t take anymore.
“Fuck, fuck!” you sobbed, thighs shaking around his head; there really was no exploration to it, no teasing, he just went right in and expertly played you like he’d done this a thousand times.  Maybe he had… but, obviously, he’d never done it to you.  Were you that easy to solve?
Obviously, that question suddenly became the last thing on your mind as your orgasm wracked through you.  He growled encouragingly, still keeping his pace, but you could barely hear it past the ringing in your ears— and your own cries of his name, of course.
He only broke away when your squirms turned into real avoidance: you could only take so much, especially with him suckling on your clit like that.
You were almost nervous to open your eyes again— and you were right, he looked so gorgeous between your legs, obviously smug with having just made you come, it was nearly criminal.
“Is it really that easy to make you come, honey?” he laughed, petting your legs sweetly as he pulled back, looking up at you with a proud grin.  “That’s so fucking cute, baby…”
As he sat up again, wiping the slick off his mouth with the back of his hand, you got this weird, clingy feeling— wanting to chase him even just as he barely moved away.  
But he’d sat up for a reason, and you started to realise it when you sat up, too, and noticed the thick bulge in his jeans.
"Why don't you show me what you can do, sweetheart?" he encouraged with a smile, opening his belt for you. "I'm sure you've learned a thing or two..."
Though you still felt terribly nervous about it, you leaned forward towards his lap. Would it be awful to admit your mouth watered when he freed his cock from his jeans and boxers, holding it out for you as a little bead of precum formed at the tip?
"Show me, baby," he whispered again, "and look up at me."
You nervously blinked up at him, meeting his gaze from his lap, as you wrapped your lips around his swollen head. He bit his lip right away and reached up to hold onto your hair, groaning as you swirled your tongue.
"Fuck," he smirked, "you're sort of a tease, aren't you?"
You weren't trying to be, really, but it didn't sound like he minded too much...
"Oh, fuck," he moaned deeply, making you pulse inside as he tilted his head back. "Fuck, baby, that's good— your mouth is so fucking warm..."
He gasped and panted as he held your head, guiding it to bob just a little faster than you had been moving. "Sweetheart," he choked, "you're so fucking good... fuck!"
The praise made your chest fill with warmth, even if there was still some part of your brain that was recovered enough from the orgasm to remember how horrible this all was.  It was horrible, but perfect— and feeling his cock throb against your tongue was perfect, too.
You’d never been told you were so good at this before, but he kept moaning and petting your head encouragingly, whispering the most wonderful and filthy things.  “Just like that, honey,” he cooed, “mm— pretty thing… knew that mouth of yours would feel so fuckin’ good… just keep sucking my cock, sweetheart.���
That you did— harder and faster, stroking what your mouth couldn’t fit, moaning softly around him.  As you tried to take it deeper, desperate to please him, you gagged on his thick head.
“God, it’s so cute when you choke on it, baby,” he chuckled.  “Do it again.”
This time it was almost too much, but he held your head down and groaned deeply.  It would’ve bothered you more— not being able to breathe— if he didn’t sound so sexy right then…
Thankfully, he pulled you off just in time, making you yelp as he held you by your hair— only to kiss you hard, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.  Moaning, you melted into his arms, and let him guide you to straddle his lap.  Feeling his jeans against your thighs and his shirt against your chest made your heart skip.
He took another long look at you when he broke away, a new darkness in his bright eyes.
“You’re so sexy,” he laughed softly, running his hands over your nude form and raising a brow as he watched goosebumps break out over your skin.  “God, I need to be inside you…”
You bit down on your lip but it didn’t do much to suppress your whimper; lifting yourself up a bit, you grasped his cock and slid it through your folds, guiding him to your entrance.  
You both gasped when he slipped inside, even when it was the slightest penetration— his whole head wasn’t in yet, and you just knew it would stretch you more than you were used to.
“Oh, fuck,” he moaned loudly, tilting his head back, “you’re so wet, sweetheart…”
Lowering yourself, you took in a shaky breath, whining slightly as he opened you up one inch at a time... and each one seemed somehow thicker than the last. His fingers seemed to dig deeper into the skin at your hips and ass the lower that you sank onto him.
You could barely believe that you took it all; that you relaxed into his lap fully even when you feared being split in half by how thick he was.  “Oh my god,” you blurted out, operating on instinct as you started to move— grinding back and forth, desperate for friction despite having been satisfied by his incredible mouth just a few minutes ago.
"Fuck, there you go," he encouraged with a growl, looking down at your hips rocking in his lap. "Ride me, just like that— fuck, ride my cock, little fuckin' whore..."
You whimpered at the insult, holding tighter onto his shoulders, but it only made you move faster. "S-so... so deep, Mr. Murphy," you whimpered.
"Yeah? You can take it," he promised darkly, holding tighter onto your waist as he dropped his head back with a low groan. "God, you're tight— fuck."
You gasped as he bucked his hips up, creating more pressure against your over-sensitive clit. "Oh, fuck," you breathed, struggling to cope with all the sensations he was giving you.
Both of you settled on the right pace, and he switched between resting his head back against the couch (giving you a nice view of his gorgeous neck, how could just a neck be so sexy?!) and looking down to watch you go.  “So fuckin’ cute,” he praised— though you were sort of surprised to hear him describe you that way at a time like this.  “So needy, honey… you want more, don’t you?  You wanna go even faster.”
Now that he said it: yeah, you did.  You bounced up and down, your moans coming out all shaky and uneven because of the movement, and he grinned proudly.
His hands wandered up from your waist to your chest, groping you eagerly as you gasped out his name in response.  “Love these tits of yours,” he informed you, sounding oddly sweet for how dirty of a compliment it was.  “Took everything in me not to stare at them when you’d come over for dinner… see what you do to me, sweetheart?  Haven’t felt this desperate since I was your age.”
Oh, he knew exactly what he was doing, reminding you of how much older he was at a time like this.  He purred when he felt you clench on him, obviously affected by the comment.
“Should’ve known you’d give in right away,” he went on, softening his voice to nearly a whisper as he watched you move with heavy eyes; you angled your hips back and moaned louder, his cock rubbing against just the right spot every time now.  “Hungry little thing like you— now I wish I hadn’t waited so long.  We could’ve been doing this the whole time… I could’ve shown you how much better it can be, when somebody really takes care of you.”
Whimpering, you felt another heady pang inside you— if he kept talking like that, you wouldn’t be able to keep your head on straight… then again, the fact that you were here proved that you were less stable than you thought.
“Faster, sweetheart,” he ordered again suddenly.  “I wanna see how desperate you can get.”
You furrowed your brows together, almost pouting, but did exactly what he wanted— you wondered if you looked as pathetic as you sounded, riding him recklessly, chasing another peak even when it took all of your strength in those shaking legs.
He grabbed you by the jaw and guided you into another desperate kiss— all teeth and tongue and low moans.  “Good fucking girl,” he snarled.  “Good little slut.”
“Fuck,” you panted, moving faster.  “Fuck, I’m close—”
“I know, honey,” he cooed, nodding as he moved his hand down to your neck.  “Show me how bad you need it, sweetheart.  Let me see it, I wanna see you come for me.”
Tossing your head back, you cried out his name again— why did you always do that when you came?— and felt it overtake you.  It was even heavier than the last one, even more numbing and draining, and you didn’t even notice how hard you were digging your nails into his shoulders.
When your body failed and you came to a shaky stop, he didn’t give you much time to catch your breath: he grabbed you tight, guiding your head to rest on his shoulder, and began to buck his hips up into you quickly.
“Oh my god, oh my god!” you whined, overwhelmed by the feeling, holding onto him tightly just to have something to keep you grounded.
“Fuck, m’gonna come inside you,” he warned with a growl.  “Gonna fill you, baby, you’ll be so fuckin’ full of my come—”
You sobbed and buried your face in his neck, starting to cry again for a completely different reason than before.
“Tell me you want it,” he ordered, speaking roughly right against your ear.
“F-fuck, I want it,” you gasped, “I want you to come— fuck— come inside me—”
He choked out a few more swears, he held you tight enough that you started to imagine what his bruises would look like on you tomorrow, and with a low groan of your name, it all suddenly slowed to a stop.  You moaned weakly when you felt his cock flexing against your walls, even more heat pooling inside you.  With what little energy you had left, you softly kissed his neck— until he seemed to come back to reality and pushed you back enough to be face-to-face with you again.  
You realised suddenly that you were still sort of crying from the intensity of it all, and got nervous with him staring at you like that.  “I’m sorry,” you sniffled as you wiped your face.
“Don’t apologise,” he told you again, moving your hands away so he could look at you himself.  “Besides, you look even cuter when you cry.”
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fangirlmermaid · 3 months
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Please Princess
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Summary: You were kidnapped by Kronos goons, and just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, a familiar face proved you wrong
Pairing: Luke Castellan x daughterofPoseidon!reader
warning: Angst!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Also kind of long (Sorry)
(This scene was inspired by Euphoria)
You’ve lost count of how many days since you’ve been in this cell. You don’t remember how one of Kronos’s goons managed to sneak up on you, one minute you were walking to the Poseidon Cabin late at night and the next you were in this small ass cell that only had a crappy spring mattress.
You were expecting Kronos’s goons to rough you up, but they haven’t. They’ve only come in once a day to give you food and water which you end up throwing back in the goon's faces. They still never laid a finger on you, you were starting to believe that you were leverage for whatever the hell your brother Percy was doing.
The next day you just sit Chris cross applesauce on the ground and face the wall when you hear footsteps. “Heard you were being stubborn” A familiar voice announced, your eyes widened No not him Luke was the last person you wanted to see. You touched the scar that laid across your cheekbone, something you got from that night.
You went to find Luke and Percy because they were taking a while and you wanted to enjoy the fireworks with them. You find them pointing their swords at each other, Luke tried to explain how Percy lied about not being the lightning thief but of course, you didn’t believe him which led to you and Percy trying to take Luke down. Luke swung backbiter intending to strike at Percy but he dodged and ended up cutting you.
You were heartbroken, Luke was the love of your life! You didn’t care about glory or getting the god's attention, as long as Luke was with you. You believed Luke cared about you too, he was your biggest supporter! This made you wonder if he was only dating you so you would be more willing to join Kronos.
Luke placed the tray on the small meal table on the cell door, “Come on please eat something” Luke’s voice laced with concern. You tried to blink away the tears, gods he’s still acting like he cares about you. You still sat with your back facing the man you once loved, even if you knew what you wanted to say, your voice couldn’t be found.
“You need to eat…please princess” Luke begged, when he called you his old nickname for you the memories that you tried to shut out came rushing back, all the campfires, sneaking to the lake at night, movie night on your phone. You couldn’t hold the tears back anymore, “don’t call me that” your voice cracked, Luke was relieved to hear her voice oh how he missed it.
He wanted to hear your voice more “Princess please, you have to understand” Luke tried to explain, and for the first time you looked at him filled with rage “Understand?” you mumbled, and you stood up “Understand?!” you yelled storming towards the cell door, words couldn’t describe how enraged you were “you betrayed us!” you yelled shoving the food tray back at Luke. The traitor didn’t flinch, “Y/N” Luke’s voice was soft, it felt weird that he was saying your real name “The gods don’t care about us, they have ignored us for too long. We’re just pawns to their game” Luke explained his eyes that only known kindness now replaced with spite and hatred, you glared at the man you once loved “So that’s supposed to make it okay for you to try to kill my brother?! He’s a kid!” You yelled white-knuckling the cell bars “I’m sorry for that Y/N, I am, but I need to make sure Kronos will rise” Luke explained, you felt your heart ripping once again.
You took a few steps back and looked at this monster who looked like the man you used to love. Your eyes darkened, You never thought he would kill a kid “That dragon should’ve fucking killed you” your voice laced with venom, that was a punch in the gut for Luke “You don’t mean that” Luke whispered his eyes glossed, “I do mean it!” you muttered at Luke who remained silent “You fucking betrayed us, Luke! You betrayed Annabeth! You betrayed me! And it fucking hurts Luke!” You shouted tears running down your face. Luke mumbled “I love you” You couldn’t believe that he had the nerve to say that “No you don’t!” your voice cracked, Luke nodded his head “I love you” he mumbled once again, Gods will he stop saying that “No you don’t! Stop saying that! You don’t love me!” You shouted, clapping your hands with the last sentence.
Luke has never seen you this angry especially at him, you guys have arguments but they were never this bad. You leaned into the cell bars wanting to look Luke in the eyes “I have a lot of regrets in my life, but I have to say that meeting you has to be on the top of my fucking list” You explained in a malicious tone, Luke's eyebrows raised. A tear ran down Luke's cheek “You don’t mean that princess” Luke mumbled, you’d be lying if you didn’t feel a little bit satisfied by making him cry “I.mean.every.fucking.word” you spat at him. Luke grabbed your hand before you could walk away to catch your breath “Stop” you mumbled trying to pull away but Luke tightened his grip, he turned your hand over, exposing your palm. You studied Luke who looked at you with love before giving your palm a soft kiss something he used to do all the time, your eyes glossed at the sight. Luke gave it a final kiss before letting go, you cradled it into your chest “Y/N, none of this was supposed to betray you. I love you, I’m doing this for us” Luke explained calmly, you looked at Luke with murderous eyes “We could’ve left, Luke. We could’ve lived in a cottage in the middle of nowhere, just like we used to talk about” You reminded in a low tone your throat was dry and sore from the screaming, Luke shook his head “You know it’s not that simple, not for us” Luke explained, you knew it was true there would be monsters knocking on your door every five minutes but you wouldn’t have cared. You started to laugh “You know you're no different than them” You stated looking up at your ceiling, Luke raised an eyebrow “The gods” you continued, you were walking side to side in your cell “That’s not true” Luke grumbled, you laughed one again “but you are. You’re no better than Zeus, you’re no better than Ares…you’re no better than your father” you muttered, you smiled in satisfaction when Luked at you with rage in his eyes “I am nothing like them,” Luke told his voice laced with venom, you nodded your head not believing him “you’re a fucking vampire. Just like them” you muttered, Luke stood there in disbelief “You just go around sucking the fucking spirit out of everyone!” You yelled pressing your face into the cell bars and looking him dead in the eyes, Luke shook his head “You know that’s not true” he reminded, your murderous eyes staring him down “It is fucking true!” you yelled before walking away from the bars.
Then Luke had the nerve to say the three words again “Y/N, please! I love you!” he shouted, you wished he would stop lying “No you love being loved! You love being needed and being awed at like your some whimsical fucking creature!” You yelled wishing the bars weren’t here so you could leave, Luke sighed before looking at you “I love you! What will it take for you to believe me?!” Luke shouted in frustration, you wiped away your old tears “If you want me to believe you then stay away from me” You muttered, Luke shook his head making you sigh in frustration “Then let Kronos’s goons kill me because looking at you makes me physically fucking ill!” you spat at him before walking into a corner with your back facing him, telling him that you are done talking to him.
You stood there until you heard the main door slammed, you turned around and he was gone. You felt like an idiot for dating him, you should’ve seen it coming. You should’ve killed him that night, he was no longer the man you loved. It’s all your fault, out of anyone in camp you should’ve been the one to know that he was up to something.
You slid down against the wall, you brought your knees into your chest, and you were hysterical crying into your knees. Even though with everything that is happening, deep down you still loved him and you wished you didn’t.
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club-prideguin · 1 year
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Hm.
#seb speaks#just had a realization.#specifically regarding my binding habits.#specifically that i have been binding the same shitty makeshift way since sometime in 8th grade.#so uh. lemme think#i was in 6th grade when op:bo was happening#so keeping when school years start/end in mind thatd be uh#uh. um. well ok that year was 2014/15 so#hold on lemme get a calculator im not good at math.#yeah ok so ive been binding like this for about 8 years now. maybe 7 and a half depending on what part of the school year i started#i deadass dont remember its been too long.#hm. yknow im really surprised i dont have bruised ribs by now.#i really need to get around to preparing/setting up things so that people can start giving me money.... god.#and looking into which brands are good and have accurate sizes for which body types.#cause Good Lord.#i dont need to mess up my body anymore. as a closeted american southerner i already have enough top surgery barriers for fucking real 😬#aight ill shut up now. i just had that realization about my health and i just.#@ me: good fucking lord man....#i think im gonna start taking better care of myself. starting tomorrow.#also again protip: dont be like me. please bind properly. again i havent had much of a choice and ive been being abt as careful as i can be.#but if you have the means to do so please god just dont u makeshift stuff and buy an actual bunder that fits#*binder#okay ill actually shut the hell up now lmaoooo.#gonna draw a bit hopefully i can get Something done. even if its doodles.#gonna try to fix my posture a bit too im p sure most people dont sit like damn pillbugs when doing art stuff.#yknow in retrospect that probably has something to do with my spine hurting....#okok im out for real this time 💀
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hoshigray · 4 months
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𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 | satoru gōjo
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𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Gojo isn’t one to mess with other people’s relationships, especially yours, the widow of his best friend, Geto. And now, when celebrating the anniversary of your late husband’s death, you’re most definitely off limits…when alcohol isn’t involved.
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x widow fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - kissing/makeout sessions - thigh riding - grinding/dry-humping - breast fondling + sucking + nipple play - missionary + spooning positions - clitoral play (swiping and pinching) - pet names (angel, baby, babe, cutie, princess) - overstimulation - creampies - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up or get the fuck up) - the reader is the widow of Suguru Geto + mother of Nanako and Mimiko - implied usage of alcohol - Gojo and the reader are pretty terrible together, to be real - expressions of guilt/shame - mention of sweat and tears - bittersweet ending - will fully proofread l8r.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6k
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: would y'all believe me that this idea came to me literally last night? wrote it all in 9 hrs total, lmao. enjoyyyy, and tysm for 4.8k !!?? love every single one of yas!!
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“—Pffthahaha, why did you drink so much? I thought you hated alcohol!”
“I do!! But that guy at the bar kept buying you drinks even though you told him not to—Hic, Ahh fuck…”
“Oh God, Gojo, you better not hurl on my white carpet! Drink the water and eat your slice of bread!”
You and Gojo are in the warmth of your home, lying on the floor of your living room and laughing the night away. The two of you just arrived from a fun evening with old high school and college buddies, and, from the looks of it, you two seemed to have a ball hanging with the old company. Poor Gojo got the short end of the stick, being the lightest of lightweights of the group, and is now fighting a massive headache and being tipsy at the same time. Luckily, being the kindest friend, you took him to your home and gave him his favorite hangover food: slices of sweet bread! 
“I know, that dude just wouldn’t quit,” you take a sip of your glass of water to ease the tipiness. You giggle while reminiscing about the events that happened tonight. “Nanami was about to stop him, but you went ahead and just took the shots given to me.”
“Well, excuuuuse me! For being your great buddy on both ends,” he points at you with a piece of bread between his fingers, heavy laughter spewing from your stomach. “I helped make sure his money didn’t go to waste buying shots for the prettiest person at the bartop, AND help you not get any drunker than you are now.” 
You say in snickers, “I didn’t know you were the prettiest person in that pud.”
“Oh, shut up.” He couldn’t tell if the alcohol was making his cheeks rosier or if it was the sound of your laughter filling his eardrums. 
Gojo has known you since sophomore year of college. You were in the same dormitory tower with him and his best friends, Suguru Geto and Shoko Ieiri (she roomed with you the following year, along with Utahime and Mei Mei). The four of you didn’t quite know each other until Geto had a class with you, and the two of you were assigned a presentation. From there, you were invited to his dorm and met his roommates: Gojo, Nanami, and Haibara. Then, you were requested to come over and play video games with the boys or eat with them whenever the group went to the dining hall. And the next thing you knew, you upgraded from acquaintance to friend in a matter of weeks, fitting right in with the odd bunch.
The group cherished you and your presence — especially Satoru Gojo. The white-haired fellow would treat you as if you were his closest friend. He’d find you in your classes through the windows and make faces that you’d try to hold your smile at, knock on your door to come to hang out with you whenever he wanted to see you or if he and Geto had a fallout, point to you whenever he’d make a three-pointer during the basketball games, or come from behind you to hug without you knowing because he loved how you’d squeak from surprise and try to squirm out of his hold. 
It wasn’t long before he realized he had a crush on you until the second semester of the sophomore year when you considered transferring schools, which everyone was sad about but respected your decision. However, Gojo was more upset about it than the others. He didn’t like that he made a friend, and you two were returning to being strangers in different worlds. Sure, there was calling you and texting, but it wasn’t the same. He wanted to see you smile, see you laugh, see you around with him. And the realization didn’t hit him until the first week of junior year when you called him one night and said that you decided to stay. He knew then and there that he cherished you more than the others, becoming a treasure he wanted to protect from harm. 
However, he wasn’t the only one who adored you as much — if not more. In the summer of his junior year, Geto told his best friend he had feelings for you. And Gojo’s world was crushed for five seconds as his dark-haired friend confided in him. But when he responded, he quickly swallowed his pride and said, “That’s great, Suguru! I’m sure they’ll like you back.” And with that, you did, accepting his confession and spending your final year as a couple. And it didn’t stop there; many years later, Geto would go down on one knee for you, move in, and have two beautiful daughters with you. 
Gojo bore witness to all of this, seeing his two friends become the happiest they could be with each other. It felt a bit painful — okay, that was sugarcoating it; it was excruciating, enduring hiding his feelings for so long. However, if it meant seeing the two of you happy, who was he to rain on your parade? So, instead, he was your biggest cheerleader, wishing you all the best for the two of you and your happy life. And seeing as though he’s now in your home, drunk, and sharing laughs with you, it was the best move he could ever make. 
You took a nice big stretch against the couch behind you, yawning, “Thank you for taking me out. I really needed that. Do you know how lonely it is having two teenage girls who wanna hang with their friends more than their own mother? I was about to buy myself a crochet kit to keep me busy.”
He laughs at your comment about your daughters, Nanako and Mimiko, who’re now dead asleep upstairs in their room. Gojo lies down on the carpet, “No problem~. Nanami mentioned a nice restaurant that opened up recently, and I figured we could all use a night out.”
“You thought right,” you agreed, swaying from side to side, something you always do when you’re tipsy. Gojo thought it was cute. “And with, you know…the anniversary and everything, it took my mind off it…Thanks for coming with me to the grave today. The girls really appreciated it.”
He hums, taking off his sunglasses to rub his eyes. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Ah yes, the anniversary. Today was significant for the two adults in this living room, the teenagers sleeping soundly, and the friends you spent with tonight. It was the anniversary of Suguru Geto’s death. A dear friend and husband died in a car accident, trying to save a child from an upcoming car that wasn’t stopping at a crosswalk. The news came so suddenly to everyone, Gojo being the first to hear about it. He remembered the day all too well two years ago, knocking on your door to which you welcomed him with a smile like always. But you knew something was wrong; he could tell that his lack of response made your beaming light dwindle by the second. And when he told you the tragic news, the light completely disappeared, substituted with tears and gut-wrenching screams. 
The funeral was depressing, of course. Many tears were shed, many kind words were said, and many rose petals covered the coffin when dropped and buried with the earth. Gojo was the only one who noticed you were the last to leave Geto’s side, trembling hands with nothing to do or hold on to. He was hesitant, but the tall man walked behind you and pulled you into an embrace. And like a flipped switch, you cried into his arms, finding solace through grief with the person closest to you. 
That wasn’t the least time you cried with him, but those are memories meant for the two of you to share. There’s no need to delve too deep into another heart-rending episode, not after such a fun evening with everyone.  
“You know,” Gojo leaves his imagination to turn to you from the carpet, seeing you twiddling with the rim of the glass. “I think we would’ve loved tonight. I remembered before the accident, he texted me saying he would kill to have a beer with Nanami and Haibara again.” 
The tall adult scratches his brow with a chuckle, “Yeah, I’m he’d love tonight…If anything, he’d be astonished by how many beer mugs Haibara can take compared to freshman year. The kid couldn’t even handle three glasses.” 
“I know, and—pfft. Poor Ichiji and Mei Mei, having to deal with a drunk Utahime now after her drunk ass almost pounced on Shoko to kiss her. You think she’ll remember any of that?”
“Pssh, no, but you can bet your ass I’m making fun of her about it first thing in the morning.” The manchild barks a laugh when you kick his shoulder, making sure not to make a mess with his bread and water. 
“You’re one to talk, Satoru,” the named man giggled harder; he loved when you used his name as you scolded him. “For someone who puked a waterfall after one shot from his junior basketball team party, I don’t know where you got the balls to take the shots that random dude was buying for me.”
“What can I say; I’m a ballsy guy.”
You suck your teeth, taking another sip of your water. “You’re so annoying…Although, I know you did it to look out for me. I’d probably be wasted right now if I had those many shots. So, thanks again.” 
Gojo lifts his sunglasses to wink. “Anything for you~” The sing-song tune of his voice makes you your eyes, but you continue talking.
“And thanks for all the times you’ve been available to help me. I know you and everyone else are busy, so I always feel bad when I ask—“
“Don’t be. I’ll always be here if you need me because I care about you.”
“Always?”
He looks in your direction to see that your eyes are fixated on his. Gorgeous eyes that captured his entire being the first moment he met you and now make him weak whenever they land on him. Darling eyes that were the prettiest things he’d ever seen, and that’s saying something because he’d been told countless times that his pale blue orbs were the most beautiful in the world. Alluring eyes that await his answer with patience. And so he says, “Always.”
You give him a soft smile, “Okay…I care about you, too.”
The two of you keep staring until you realize you have been gazing at Gojo for too long and avert your gaze downward. Gojo takes the hint and mentally slaps himself for it. Fuck, why did I do that? He stands up, groans, and covers his face in shame for that slip-up. You don’t know that he has a lifelong crush on you; everyone else knows. They’ve always known. The Gojo Satoru fell in love with the lover of his best friend. Correction: his dead best friend. 
Anyone would see the problem in this situation. A best friend’s lover that you’re also close with? Don’t even think about it, Gojo, he curses himself. He knows all too damn well that you’re out of his field. You were the forbidden fruit that he couldn’t indulge with anymore. It was bad enough that you looked good tonight, wearing that cute halter top with long sleeves and those leggings that shaped your lower half beautifully so that he couldn’t keep his eyes off you all night. And he wasn’t the only one like that fucking old bastard at the pub buying you drinks. It made him sick, honestly.
“Ya know, Satoru,” he hears a glass hitting the wooden floor; you probably put your water down. He couldn’t see because his face was still covered, but his ears listened to your voice inching closer to him. “Remember that last home game we had at the inner arena of sophomore year?” 
You remembered that? “Yeah, I remember.”
“And when you missed the winning shot, making the game stuck in a tie?”
“…Yeah.”
“Well, I, uhh…” he heard the carpet moving around — you were moving around. “I went to Hime and Koko about it because you looked out of it, and I was worried.” Hime and Koko: those were the nicknames you referred Utahime and Shoko. “…Wanna know what she told me?”
Finally, the man removes his hands to look. And he sees you on your hands and knees, your eyes catching him instantly. Thank God that his sunglasses were on because it would be pretty bad if you found his orbs wide at you. He could faintly smell the perfume coming from you. It was intoxicating and drove him crazy. He can only hope you wouldn’t notice the blush creeping up on his cheeks, thinking it was just the booze. “Wh…What did she say?”
“She said,” You sit on your knees, using your hands to take off Gojo’s glasses, and his breath hitches when you do so, putting them on the side. “You were upset that night because I said I was thinking of transferring.” You bring a finger to swipe his white bangs to the side and scoff. “Hehe, now, I can guess why you took my drinks.”
He gulps, yet it hurts to swallow. “Y/n..I—“
“Did you like me back then, Satoru?”
“…I’ve always liked you, Y/n. We’re friends—“
You shook your head. “No, no.” Come on, now. This wasn’t college anymore; you’re both adults now. You weren’t no fool. “Satoru, did you like me? More than a friend?” 
Oh, fuck. He didn’t expect this to happen. Not in a million years. Gojo was never one to be nervous about things. But you? You were his exception, his one weakness. And it sucks even more that you’re aware of this fragility. He’s caught up now. He can’t lie, not to you, of all people. 
“…Yes.” 
He noticed your brow twitch, fucking hell. “…Do…Do you like me now?” 
Fuck, Y/n, why would you ask that? He knows you deserve the truth, but it was painful to give it. 
“..….I’ve always liked you, Y/n.”
And there it was: the truth, finally out for your judgment. Gojo’s face felt so hot it was unbearable. He needed something to happen, anything, please! His dignity and shame depended on it. It was too much to bear. The pounding in his head was a pain that never had happened to him in this extreme degree, and it hurt so damn bad. God, end me already. I don’t care anymore. 
But he did care because why else would he still be looking at your face? He wanted to know what you’d do with that knowledge you received from him. Would you discard him? Never speak with him? He needed to know. Whatever happens to him is undisputedly deserved for being the dumbass who confesses to the spouse of his late best friend. 
And then, like an answer to a prayer, something does happen. Gojo felt the coldness of your palm when you put your hand on his cheek, your forefinger brushing the lobe of his ear, and the skin temperature contrasting against each other until there’s shared heat. 
Your eyes were locked in with his, honed with soft sternness, and your face inched forward hesitantly. Holy shit, he knew what you were about to do. It was a bad idea all around. If he really respected you as a friend – for both you AND Geto – he would intervene right now. He’d put his arms up and refrain from doing what you were about to do, no matter how much the inner, darker part of his soul wanted it. 
However, we wouldn’t be telling this story if nothing ever happened, if Gojo didn’t let you put your soft lips on his plump ones, the two meshing together to signal the first union between you two. 
The kiss was slow, filled with doubt at the start, as if you were hoping he’d push you away. But then you kissed him again after the first, and then the second. Three kisses was all it took to solidify Gojo’s next moves, daring to put a hand at the back of your neck. Which you allowed, you moaned at it. It ignited him, putting his other hand on your waist to suggest intimacy. And when you crawl further in his direction, there’s no going back.
You move to sit on his thigh that he propped up, cupping his face to keep him in your direction, grinding your lower half onto his jeans to create friction. Gojo follows your lead, moving his hands down to your ass, the flesh of it massaged by his slender yet firm fingers. 
Whimpers kept egging him on, wanting to touch you more. The kiss becomes steamier, exchanging and swirling each other’s tongues, and he playfully sucks on it to hear you whine for him. “Ahhnn, don’t tease me, ‘toru…” Oh, don’t say that. Because now that’s precisely what he wants to do, slamming his lips into yours with a moan.
Your arms come around his neck, your legs grinding down on his thigh involuntarily to ease the aching commotion that’s brewing inside between your legs. His hands come to your waist, urging you to hump him more like this. The feeling of you on his leg felt so gratifying, arousing him to move his hips on their own.
This was so bad. No, it was tremendously bad. What was he thinking? Touching you and kissing you like this as if he were your lover — your Suguru Geto — and on the anniversary of your late husband’s passing, too. Did he finally lose his mind?! Even if it was the alcohol that was deranging his thought process right now, he still was conscious enough not to bring this predicament to a stop. Oh, this was beyond terrible.
It was just as terrible as you pulling your face off of him to respire, panting heavily, and wiping the tiny bit of saliva that stuck to your lip. Gojo knew he shouldn’t think like this, but he wanted to kiss you again, to pull you in once more, and have you mewing for him. You smelt, tasted, and felt so good for him. It would be a crime to leave you alone like this now.
Icy blue eyes examine your expression, taking in every feature of your beautiful face that he finally has on top of him like this. You look down at him with your hands returning to cup his hot cheeks. He always knew you were an angel, and now he has proof.
“You care about me, right?” You ask him with your half-lidded eyes that glowed softly under the warm ceiling lights. Gojo nods slowly, and you carry on. “Stay with me tonight, please…”
It was hard to swallow when you requested that. The night was already ruined — you were ruined — by him. There’s no way he could make this even worse. Nevertheless, the thought of saying no to you was contradicting his actions as he pulled you in for an embrace, kissing you down your neck and sucking your collarbone.
And damn him for feeling any excitement and joy from this…
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Gojo felt like the worst. 
No, correction: he is the worst. 
Ignoring all these years of his inner, bottled-up feelings have finally erupted and burst into shards that pierce his skin as punishment. All those side glances, all those handholds, and all the cheering from the sidelines; every single memory that’s been stacked within this glass now feels like needles to the heart. Needles to his entire being. 
He felt like shit. There’s nothing about that sentence that feels like an understatement; he was an utter shit. He knew it and felt really bad about it.
…And yet, having you under his bow like this, saying his name in soft whines and your fingernails scraping on his pearly, sweaty skin only pushed him into feeling terrible even more. 
Gojo was now in your room, a place he only imagined to be inside his dreams and personal thoughts, away from the judgment of Geto and others. This room was never for him to step in — it was your room. The only people who could be in this space were your late husband and his children, no one after. So, being here, lying in your bed with his clothes on the cold bedroom floor, was like a shank to the gut.
Plus, it didn’t help that the girls’ room was across from the room he was in; if worse could come to worst, they could walk in and see that their mother was nude and a disheveled mess under the presence of another man. It would sicken them, having them defy anything that they hold to their heart. They’d deny Gojo’s existence for such an act; they’d reject you for indulging along with him. He wouldn’t forgive himself. He doesn’t forgive himself now…
And worst of all, the thing that was hard to accept in the first place was you. You, who allowed him to even place a finger on you after letting him confess to you; you, who wrapped your arms around his neck when he put his plump lips on yours, the faint taste of alcohol being a reminder of the events they partook prior and has led to this; you, who looked at him with such gorgeous eyes full that struck his heart, eyes full of subtle wanton and need that he couldn’t ignore. He’d be the biggest fool if he ever did — hence the man claiming your lips with hesitant reluctance and having you to himself. Finally. After all these years.
Now, the snow-haired man is on your bed, mind still a bit tipsy but aware of what he’s doing. How could he not be? What he’s doing now is what he’s always longed for — his deepest, darkest secret.
Pistoning his cock to and fro into your wet cunt was a sight worth keeping in his mind forever. Its warmth, the tightness of your walls around him, the tip of his dick poking your sensitive spots and evoking the prettiest, cutest, and most vulgar noises he never, in his years of living, would think he’d hear leave your mouth. Good, he could die tomorrow for this crime – he should be – and he wouldn’t mind. Because this was such a treasure to his eyes, his death would be worth it if it meant having you like this. It was a terrible thing to think of, no question. And he’ll criticize himself later for not caring.
“Ohhooo, ahahhh, Satoru,” His sky-blue eyes took you in, your eyebrows furrowed with eyes sewn shut, your hands gripping the satin sheets of your bed, and your body recoiling with every thrust the Gojo threw your way. The image of your breasts bouncing with every rut was such a beautiful thing to see, Gojo bringing a hand to grope one mound while taking the other to his mouth. The tweeze of your nipple and the light grazes of his teeth as he sucks your bud makes you wail even more. “Oooohh, ‘toru, don’t suck so hard…Nnmaahh!!”
He releases your nipple from his lips, giving it tantalizing licks while hammering his length into your slit, and your shrieks were forbidden music to his ears. His pelvis coming at you hard and bumping into your clitoris was too much for you, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders. “Ohhh fuck, oh Jesussss, Satoruu, mmmph!! I’m gonna cum, I’m about to cummm,” you’d tell him with pleading, watery eyes. 
“Hnngh! Shit, shit, let it out, baby,” Now, who the hell gave him the right to call you that? He was treading in deep waters he wasn’t supposed to swim in, calling you pet names as if he were your husband. Who does he think he is? Gojo doesn’t know anymore. “Let it go, cum on this dick…Aishhh, fuckingshit…” He’d take your breast back into his mouth, his tongue giving the nub an onslaught of teasing bites and aiding licks. Meanwhile, his free hand would snake down your abdomen and thighs, finding your unattended clit and giving it the attention it deserves, using his fore and middle finger to apply circular motions on the delicate bud. And your orgasm comes crashing down when he gives your clit a pinch, the walls of your chasm contracting around his cock with an ecstatic howl from your puffy lips. 
Gojo watches it all play out – you in your climax – for the second time tonight. He feels it in your nails scraping the flesh of his back, your vagina clamping onto him until your high comes to pass, the arch of your back bringing you closer to him and exchanging heat. Your elated expression was frame-worthy, something he’d want to look at until the end of the Earth. And yet, witnessing it wasn’t a privilege given to him.
The trembles of your legs simmer down, and your whimpers go hushed as your back returns to the dampness of your bedsheets, releasing your fingers from the flesh of Gojo as your figure takes in oxygen to even your breathing. 
The man towers over you, wiping cold, stray tears that trickle down your warm cheek. “That felt good, angle?” Again, calling you names he would never dare call half an hour ago. And yet you don’t ridicule him for it, nodding to him with a pleasant hum. Gojo kisses your lips, along with another and another. He knew he had no right to have your lips on his like this – had none whatsoever. But you tasted so good, felt so good. You were addictive; he knew this all too well. And here he is, a fool throwing himself into the fire.
He lets go of your bottom lip with a tug, maneuvering himself onto his side to spoon you, lifting your leg to make sure his hips have a clear way through as he inserts his length back inside you. He ruts into your wetness again, and the sensation sends a sharp tingle up your spine. You cry out, “Ahahhnn!! Sa–toru! D-Don’t! I’m still sensitive—Mmmm!! There…” 
“Shhhh, I got you, princess. Let me take care of you, okay?” Gojo coos to your ear, making you purr and arch towards him.
And then his hips go back to pushing and pulling, his dick thrusting in and out of your creamy cunt. You breathe in hushed pants, letting the rhythm of his ruts churn your insides. You say his name in a beautiful whine, having him kiss under your chin in response. 
Plunges to your vagina feel so good for both of you, finding comfort in each other’s warmth in this intimate position — a position that is meant for lovers. Something that Gojo knows that you two aren’t. Yet here he is, stuffing you with his shaft until your southern lips meet his balls as if he was your mate for life.
He says your name to your ear, his face buried in the crook of your shoulder, the perfume you wear making him dizzy. And when his cock grinds against the wall of your vagina and hits your precious spot, your eyes shoot wide, and your scream comes out in broken sobs. “—Ahhh!! Haahh!! Satoru, Satoru—Oh, God, ohmygoood!!”
“—Gahhh!! Hahhh, heh, you okay?” He smiles at your reaction, his free hand coming from behind you to capture a breast. “That’s a cute face of yours, angel. Wanna see more of it…” 
And he makes sure of it by bucking into your chasm with haste, going at an irregular speed, and more massages to your walls have you sobbing in pleasure. The stimulation overwhelms you and your worked-up nerves so wickedly that you grab tufts of his frosty hair. He presses his forehead to yours, sharing exchanges of groans and moans in the limited space you two have to breathe. 
Gojo is aware of this entire situation, aware that this charade will change absolutely everything. His relationship with you can never go back to what it was before. College friends, trusting buddies, asking for advice, sharing jokes and laughs, being shoulders to cry on — all of that, and more, changed the moment the man first took your lips in the living room. It’s a ginormous price he’s forced to pay for one night of passion and comfort, to be in your loving arms like he’s dreamed of. 
He could never look at himself the same again, and he wouldn’t blame you if you were to do the same. Shut him off, ignore him, having no meaning in your world anymore outside of a betrayer and an unforsaken friend…However, if this is what his life will be like when he wakes up, he might as well see this night through. Let him have you through it all before the world tears him apart for it.
“Hooohh!! Ohhh!! Noo, aahhnnn,” your keens go higher and higher, twitching with every jab to your inner walls and a tweak to your nipple between his finger and thumb. “It’s coming, it’s coming again, Satoruuu—“ 
“—Hahhgg!! Ahhh, shit, shit, shit…cum with me, baby,” he has his hips go at a relentless pace, pounding harder to your slit, prompting more strangled gasps to fill the room along with the sound of skin slapping against each other. 
It doesn’t take long for the both of you to come together, Gojo taking your lips in to drink your moans as his member spills his load into your fluttering folds, taking sharp breaths to stabilize your heaving, sweaty bodies that sink into the sheets. Jerking figures cuddled up together as you two experience your own set of aftershocks until the waves of orgasm wash out and leave you air to calm down. 
Although, even with the climaxes gone, you two continue to kiss each other. Your hand nestled in his hair at the back of his neck, bringing your other hand to take his from your chest. Your fingers intertwine with his, grasping and uniting them like lovers — like soulmates. Again, something that Gojo is not. And probably will never be to you. But tonight, he is yours, and you were his.
Your plump lips withdraw from his with the removal of his member, him leaving a trail of kisses from your lips down to your shoulder. “Thank you, Satoru,” you sounded tired, blinking at the ceiling of your bedroom. “Thank you…”
He doesn’t say anything, not wanting to ruin the moment. He’s done enough damage now, hiding his face with the warmth of your neck from reality. He doesn’t want to think about it. So he closes his eyes, distracting his gnawing guilt with images of you flashing behind his fatigued eyelids. Your smile, your laugh, just you. That’s all he wants to think about in this moment…
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Gojo woke up but did not move. 
He was awakened by birds of the early morning when everyone else would be sound asleep.  But that’s not what he deserved — he doesn’t get to have this pleasure this morning – or any morning – from now on. 
Because what kind of man who wakes up to the bosom of his best friend’s widow thinks he deserves to sleep soundly ever again?
Gojo knew the guilt would be the first thing that’d hit him when he woke up. He was hoping for something different — maybe Nanako and Mimiko walking up to their mother’s room and slapping the man who stained their father’s bed with the seed of another man. But no. Instead, he was awake for three more hours. And what better punishment endowed to him than to use those three hours to contemplate what he’s done?
Three hours of looking at the sunrise from your bedroom window. The gradual transition of the darkness turning into the light, unsheathing the pitch black curtains of the night and welcoming the beginning of a new day. But Gojo preferred the night; it protected him with the vision of his shame. Now, with the morning sun coming out into the sky, he felt naked – exposed to his sin for the eyes of many. 
Three hours of silence. Nothing but silence. The only noise that tormented yet blessed his eardrums was the light snore from you, the rise and fall of your chest coming and going. He could’ve counted your breaths but didn’t. It was the only “good” thing happening around him. Being between your legs and listening to you sleep was something out of a dream — a dream he never thought would happen. And yet here it is and in the most horrific way possible. He took advantage of you; that was the lowest of the low, crossing a line never meant to be crossed. So, for that, he reveled in the silence. It was the most merciful thing that happened since he opened his eyes.
Three hours of being in your embrace. Your arms wrapped around him, making sure he knows what he did. It’s not what you meant to do, maybe wanting to keep him warm by being close to you. But for him, it was another invisible lashing. The hand on his shoulder felt heavy, as if he could morph into your body at any moment. The hand on his head gave faux consolation, the air from your exhale lightly pushing it down. It all felt so wrong, the twinge in his stomach becoming more and more distorted with every passing hour. It was so foul, being intimate with the partner of his dead best friend. Unbelievable…..but the false comfort had him grounded from shutting down.
Three hours of what happened last night replayed in his head nonstop. It was his own form of punishment. Every recollection of you under him, crying for him, holding onto him, and being vulnerable with him was one arrow after another. 
Three hours of this all occurred before him until you woke up. He knew you woke up when the sudden halt of your breath stilled your figure, and it made his heart drop to his feet. You took long, slow breaths as if you were scared to move. You were scared. You had every right to be. And Gojo didn’t say or do anything until you spoke after an entire ten minutes moved by.
“Satoru?” You said it in a whisper, afraid that someone else would hear it leave your mouth, like a slur to this bedroom. 
He doesn’t reply with words. He hums instead. 
“…Good morning…” It was the first time ever he heard you say such a careful good morning. It broke his heart hearing you be so afraid to handle this situation. 
“…Morning…” Because there was nothing good about it. You were doing what you always do: looking out for him because, no matter what, you were his friend. And like any friend, you knew you were in the wrong, too. So, it was better to savor this moment — this — together than have Gojo take the whole burden.
Despite the good intentions, it only fueled his sorrow. Because he knew he didn’t deserve it. Any kindness spent on him right now would be wasted. What was warranted, however, was what was on the nightstand in front of him.
There stood a picture frame, displaying you smiling ever so happily in the embrace of another – and that would be your late husband, Gojo’s best friend, Suguru Geto, the rightful man to make you smile and hold you so dearly. 
Geto was staring into the camera as it was taken — probably the one who took it himself. What was then a wonderful memory for you to reminisce served as a silent lesson for Gojo. Another chain of guilt to be added to his shoulders, and it was the heaviest of them all. The purple of his eyes branded Gojo as if he was damning the snow-haired man for tarnishing his spouse and home. Like he was in heaven, making sure that his “friend” knew that he was doing his part in requesting a special seat in hell for him. 
And honestly, that was the only thing in that entire morning that felt right to Satoru Gojo.
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by cowbow + dividers by @/cafekitsune & @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.
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dwindlinghaze · 5 months
Text
lover in the foyer
(remus lupin x reader)
summary: remus lupin loves you, but his best friend 'likes' you too. so you both ended up fake dating.
contents: fluff, hurt/comfort, protective remus, r and remus are totally in love fr.
  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
it was a secret that you have a little crush on remus lupin. you kept that information to yourself 'cause you couldn't let the others know- it would be too embarrassing if they do. for years you've been hiding your feelings. burying it deep inside your heart.
well, that was until one day on the marauder's dormitory, a conversation was spoken.
"i've got something to tell," james started, sitting up right on his bed.
"what is it?" remus replied.
"promise you won't call me crazy?" he asked.
"we promise!" the other three said in unison.
"i'm starting to like a girl... and it's not lily," said the boy.
"what?" sirius asked, not believing what his mate just said. it was globally known that james potter loves lily evans. no one else. it has been six years since.
"yeah... it's y/n,"
a ringing silence filled the room.
you weren't super close with them four. although you are kind of friends with remus. you two talked occasionally when passing through the hallways or in the great hall.
during those small little encounters, remus might've caught some feelings. something different bloomed in his heart. hearing james saying this made his heart burn.
"i feel like she'd be a good distraction- i mean from lily. maybe that way i can make lily jealous and then she'll confess to me. even if lily-flower didn't, y/n would still be decent as a girlfriend i guess. no harm," james continued.
remus frowned, his skin burning. how could someone do that? having you as a second option? total bullshit. he wouldn't let you get treated like that. he wouldn't let james pick on your self esteem like that.
you're too good for anyone. he knows. being a substitute for someone because their crush doesn't like them back is not morally right. your soft heart is too precious to be crushed that way.
"prongs- i think that's a good idea! by then you can get lily to confess to you! you'd be everything!" sirius encouraged james, much to remus' dismay.
"moons?"
"moony has been real quiet-"
"i don't think that's a good idea," remus said sternly. he would be flaring laser beams from his eyes at james if he were a cartoon character.
james' mouth dropped, "why?"
"because- cause she's my girlfriend!" remus spoke abruptly, not knowing what he had actually said.
"your what?" all three of them screamed in shock. remus never said anything about a girl.
"how long?"
"how did that happen?"
"why didn't you tell us?"
"stop!" remus yelled, making them shut their mouth. he was panicking now. you are not his girlfriend. you'll never be. not now. not even tomorrow or the day after tomorrow.
"i started to date her like... two weeks ago," remus said before standing up, grabbing his bag before he headed out of the room. "i have to go, she said something about wanting to meet me in the library."
he fumbled with the hem of his sweater. it was cold, but he was sweating heavily. he has to find you.
thank god the marauder's map was on his bag or he would be caught lying. he saw your name- beautifully written- you were on the clocktower field, sitting alone.
remus ran to where you are, panting when he arrived.
"oh y/n!" he said, taking heavy breaths.
"yeah? remus?" you looked up from your book, gazing at him with the softest yet confused pretty eyes.
"i made a big mistake- i'm so so sorry!" remus said hurriedly. his sweat trickling down his forehead.
"calm down rem, i'm sure it wasn't that horrible! sit beside me, we can talk," you sent him a comforting smile, patting the empty seat beside you.
remus sat down, wiping his palms on his trousers. how does he say it? when does he start?
"you okay?" you asked.
"noyou'rereallyprettyandkindandlovelyandsweetandiknowyouwillneverlikemebackandyouwillhatemeforthisbecauseiclaimedthatyouaremygirlfriendfortwoweeksandimsososorry."
"say that again?" you laughed, pulling out a napkin to hand it to the poor nervous boy before you.
"i may or may not have said that you are my girlfriend in front of my friends."
"why would you say that?" your heart skipped a beat, taking in the words remus has spoken. you'd be lying if you said that you've never dreamed of this- being called remus lupin's girl.
"because- it's kind of stupid really. i got it out before i even know what i was talking about that moment," he scrambled with his words, finding it hard to form a sentence right now.
"basically, james told me that he likes you but i know he does not like you. he said he wanted to go out with you just so lily can realise that she is in love with him. and i would never let him do that to you. putting you second, you deserve so much better than that. and long story short, i said that you are my girlfriend... yeah."
remus lupin was doing this for you. so that you don't get played. how sweet.
"uhm," you looked down, playing with the hem of your skirt.
"uhm- would you be in for- y'know fake dating... me..?" remus said awkwardly. "it's alright if you don't want to, i'll make some excuses. but please don't agree on going out with james. i don't want you hurt," he whispered the last words. it was half self-indulgent in his part. seeing his the girl he's been pining for years dating his best friend is not a good feeling. but he also doesn't want you to be a second choice. it feels horrible to be. knowing that feeling all to well.
"okay- i guess i can date you," you said shyly. cheeks turning crimson.
"okay- great. we can stop if you don't feel comfortable. don't wanna pressure- just for a few weeks," he said once more.
"it's fine rem, or should i call you honey? or darling? or-" you laughed, seeing his flushed face. he is so adorable. how lucky you are to have him as your 'boyfriend'.
"how can i be a girlfriend?" you asked as you two walked back from the field.
holding hands.
it wasn't in his mind that you would ever hold his hand but you are now. dreams really do come true huh.
"we just keep it normal- i mean like we hold hands, and maybe i will hug you more often, those pda stuffs. remember, only if you're comfortable." such a gentleman he is. he always makes sure that you are comfortable everytime. gosh that gave you the fluttery butterflies.
"okay, i can manage," you giggled.
"y/n- darlin'', can i sit with you during breakfast tomorrow?" remus whispered. you both were sitting on the common room in the corner, the other marauders sprawled a few feet away.
"sure, you can," you smiled softly at him.
he squeezed your hands, resting his cheek on your shoulder. this small action gave you butterflies, the pretty sparks. his face was pressed against the fabric of your soft cardigan, with one of his arm around you.
it's just been three days and you have fallen more in love.
remus on the other hand is trying not to get this too much in his head or he'd go feral. being this close to you and basically cuddling on the couch felt like a fever dream. one that he doesn't want to wake up from.
your silky skin, that periwinkle smile, those wonderstruck lips, angelic face, your incandescent touch, those misty eyes. he loves them all. how could one not? he felt the luckiest in the school for having this. having you with him on a cold friday night under the same fluffy blanket of yours. the smell of you intoxicating his nose. he isn't bothered by it. he enjoyed it.
the most obvious thing in a relationship is display of affection. though it wasn't hard for any of you to do that. remus held your bag, your books, your papers, even the things you can do yourself. he insisted that he had to help you bring them.
and that goes for days. you and remus fake dating.
james was still skeptical about remus sudden relationship. remus was never the one to look for love in his life. well- at least that's what sirius observed.
he couldn't help but look more into details of remus' 'relationship'. he noticed how remus never kissed you in public. or at least when he's in the same room as you and remus are.
"if you've been dating for three weeks now, why haven't you two got in the next step yet?" james squinted his eyes at the both of you. holding hands while studying.
"whatever do you mean by that?" remus questioned.
"like- i don't know kissing..?"
"i do kiss her often," remus replied, shrugging before he squeezed your knuckles, rubbing soft circles.
"how come i've never seen it?" james asked childishly.
"well here. maybe because you don't have to see or know or hear everything about my personal life," remus replied rather coldly.
"i'm starting to think you two are f-"
james' words were cut short as remus' lips locked to yours, wrapping them in a deep kiss.
james let out an "o" sound, walking outside the common room because the tension would be awkward for the three of you.
the moment he stepped out of the room, remus pulled away. eyes brimmed with fear and embarrassment. "sweetheart, i'm so sorry," remus said.
"it's okay remus..." you still haven't processed what had just happened but you sure did kind of enjoyed it.
"um we- we should do that more often. i mean- to make it more real y'know..." he said stiffly. it's not actually about 'making it more real'. he just wanted to kiss you, feel you. he really liked kissing you.
you didn't know what you're getting yourself into. you thought whatever this thing is would only last for two days and then you'll be back in your daydreaming days. but it wasn't. remus is still there.
that goes on for months. the both of you went from holding hands, to kissing, to lean on each other, to more boyfriend and girlfriend things. if you didn't know better, you'd think he's not faking all of this.
hogsmeade trip is coming up, that's the only thing the students are talking about right now. visiting new shops and doing early holiday shoppings. you'd be lying if you said you weren't excited. not only will the village be like a winter wonderland with the snow all over the ground and the roof, but also since remus is going with you for the day.
"you excited, dove?" remus smiled when he met you halfway on the walk to the carriage. he pulls out his gloved hand from his pocket to place it around your back.
you pressed yourself against his warmth, giggling in content. you didn't really have to speak, remus knows.
he kissed the top of your forehead, then guide you to the carriage with some random students.
as the thestrals pulled, you beamed when the snow starts falling down. perfect. everything is so perfect right now. snowflakes fall down your lashes and hair, a sight remus wanted to tattoo in his mind forever.
you had worn make up today, he can visibly see the pinkish shadow in your eyelids. remus couldn't help but admire how pretty your make up looks. how you're so good at doing anything.
your lips were a pink shade close to your natural ones, he wanted to kiss them- give your lips warmth. he was staring at you for so long to the point where he didn't realise that the carriage had arrived.
"it's pretty here! i always love seeing snow on the roof," you smiled brightly at the snow-covered roofs, inhaling the smell of fresh snow falling from the sky.
"they sure are," he agreed, "do you want to go to the cafe for a bit? the ride was cold," he blew his palms.
"of course!"
smell of fresh baked goods filled your nose, contrast to the outside. you two chose a spot near the fireplace, ordering a cup of hot cocoa.
there was a comfortable silence between the both of you. neither really have to talk. you just smiled at each other occasionally, looking around the room after. times like these make your fake relationship feels real.
when you finished your cups of hot cocoa, you two went to honeydukes, buying lots of sweets for the holiday stocks.
remus paid for your chocolates. you insisted on paying them yourself but he refused. dumping his handful of sweets over yours so they were mixed, making it impossible for you to pick yours up.
"rem, you know you can't do this right?"
"why not?" he pouted, "i want to be a good boyfriend after all."
he gave butterflies to your stomach, you hide your visibly burning cheeks on his shoulder, hugging his arm.
he loved that, so much. it feels so real, like you actually love being with him.
then you walked in a bookstore, choosing your read for the month. this time you were paying for him. "you're being so kind, and i love that but let me reciprocate that too!"
remus just nodded in defeat, kissing the crown of your head.
you and remus had a wonderful trip, one that will always be remembered. just before you part your ways, you said, "i've enjoyed the trip a lot. thank you remus for spending the day with me." you yawned, rubbing your eyes. then you kissed him. it was remus who initiates the kisses first, but this time it's you.
he cant help but feel those butterflies inside him again, holding your figure securely. "i'm getting tired, i'll see you tomorrow, love." you kissed him once more before climbing up to the girl's dormitory. leaving remus in utter shock.
maybe you guys aren't fake dating after all. maybe this is real all along. the last time the two of you ever said 'fake' was so long ago. that made him realise that this is real.
oh he can't sleep that night.
the next morning remus was skipping down to the great hall for breakfast with an uncontrolled smile on his face. this morning he woke up earlier, took a warm shower, brushed his hair, and do all things that james potter does.
"you look extra happy today hm?" james questioned, quirking one of his eyebrows up.
"just had a really good date yesterday, so good," remus replied, grabbing a plate of waffles with yoghurt and a bunch of other fruits.
"i didn't know you like kiwis," sirius snorted.
remus rolled his eyes, scoffing, "it's for my girl, look she's coming!" he said shyly, waving his hand for you.
you sat beside him greeting the students around a good morning. "you look- different, did you cut your hair?"
remus laughed, shaking his head.
"oh," you giggled, scrunching your face. remus loves that sight. you look so pretty and adorable every single day, he was so lucky. "you're handsome, y'know," you opted, making his cheeks redder.
"ugh lovebirds," sirius gagged, stuffing his mouth with potatoes.
remus smiled to himself, then he grabbed your fingers, intertwining them together. "here, your breakfast, i cut the waffles so you can eat easier. not that i think you'll have a hard time cutting waffles- you are perfectly capable of doing anything by yourself."
your heart fluttered at his words.
how much of a gentleman he is being! you wished he is your actual boyfriend. the girl that ends up with him must be so lucky.
"thank you so much," you said.
christmas is coming, and there was a party thrown at the gryffindor's common room.
"it's not even christmas yet padfoot," remus stated.
"i know, that's why it's called a pre-christmas celebration party!" sirius cheered as he wrote a letter to one of the firewhiskey store at hogsmeade, ordering boxes of the drink. he also ordered some butterbeer for those who don't drink.
"well you better celebrate cause this is the day where i'm asking lily flower out!" james said happily.
"sure prongs," remus nodded unconvincingly.
"are you enjoying the party?" he came up to you right after your friend was leaving to the bathroom.
"i am! loving the option of butterbeer," you replied.
"you haven't got any drinks?" remus asked.
"nope, i just had a chocolate cake and a butterbeer," you said.
"good good, you don't want to be like sirius or james," he pointed to the both of them. they were dancing on the sofa, jumping like rockstars, holding nonexistent guitars.
you laughed at them before grabbing his hand. "hope you don't mind, getting crowded here."
remus squeezed your knuckles, "i don't mind, you can hold me whenever you'd like."
the the two of your heard a joyous yell from james potter. "lily said yes!" he said to everyone. you can already sense lily's eye roll from there.
"finally!" remus laughed.
but you didn't. what happens now? are you and remus going to stop dating because james will not pick on you anymore or will this be continued.
that night ended with you staring at the ceiling, frowning of whatever's coming.
remus was still his lovely self, he still gives you kisses, hugs you, gets your breakfast ready, and all that sweet things he does.
you on the other hand was sceptical. maybe he just forgot or maybe he didn't know how to tell you. so you did the only thing in your mind. avoiding him little by little as days passed. it's the only way to get this over with as soon as possible before you completely fall for him more and more. like people say 'you've got to leave before you get left'.
remus noticed as days passed. you don't kiss him back anymore. you don't hug his arm. you rarely touch his hand. it was frustrating.
did you really stopped liking him? or was everything just in his head. he couldn't get those thoughts out of his mind. he was feeling less joyful as he usually does.
one evening you saw him alone in front of the fire place, a book open but he was staring at the burning fire. you couldn't help but saw how his beautiful face was forming frown, forehead crinkling and sorrow eyes.
you approached the boy, placing your hand on his shoulder gently.
remus flinched, turning around, "i didn't know you're there." his voice was croaky.
"it's okay, i just got here. are you feeling alright?" you sat beside him, knees touching.
"um i- don't know..?" he replied, his eyes averted back to the fire.
your heart sunk, a part of you knew that this is maybe your fault. you were doing this to him.
"rem, talk to me. maybe i can help."
"you've been distant," he replied. he cringed at how stupid those words sounded.
"i uh-"
"did i do something? i'm sorry, i'm sorry for making you feel that way. if you don't want to be together that's fine and-"
"what are you talking about? remus you didn't do anything wrong!"
"well why are you avoiding me as if our relationship means nothing."
"remus-," you paused, trying to find the words. "we are faking all of this remember?"
"what?" remus asked. you could see the pure shock in his face also a tint of sadness . "i thought we were dating- not fake dating."
"huh? since when?"
"after our hogsmeade date... i'm so sorry for jumping on to conclusions way too fast. i just thought we were together because it felt so real. like just- you and me- we-"
your heart clenched, "what if i told you that it felt real too?" you whispered.
"what do you mean?" he avoided eye contact.
"i love spending time with you. you made that hogsmeade trip so memorable for me. no one has made me feel so- so content. it felt like you- you like me."
"i like you," he replied.
"i like you too," you replied.
he relaxed, a soft smile on his lips. "so you thought we were faking all of this while i'm over here thinking that we are mutually in love?"
you giggled, trying to ignore the part where he said love. "you never asked me to be your girlfriend, how was i supposed to know?"
"okay yes that was my fault, so would you like to be my absolutely-real-not-fake-long-time girlfriend?" remus asked with a cheeky smile.
"i accept your offer as your absolutely-real-not-fake-long-time girlfriend," you replied.
you both laughed, and remus pulled you to his chest as he rest his chin over your shoulder. "remember earlier when i said i like you? scratch that- i love you."
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vivwritesfics · 2 months
Note
can you write something where lando’s gf has a bad migraine and he takes care of her? thanks!!
as someone who suffers from insanely shitty migraines wayyyyy too often I jumped at this one
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There comes a point where you have so many fucking migraines that you just give up. That, no matter how bad they get, you have to suffer through it, that you can't stop everything every few weeks because of another fucking migraine.
Lando had met her before she had given up trying to take care of her migraines. She still laid in bed with water and pain killers, with the curtains drawn and the lights off, with a cold compress against her forehead.
That was years ago. Since then she'd grown sick of the constant days in bed, feeling shitty for herself. Now, she didn't tell Lando about the migraines, didn't want him to worry about a silly little headache.
She got on with her day, went to work, and suffered through. She kept her phone turned off, since the brightness did nothing but make her feel sick. She got on with things.
Her work was so fucking slow. But she couldn't go much faster since the migraine was killing her. Her bosses and co-workers noticed. There was no point in her being there if she could barely do any work.
She drove home slowly. Thank god it was the middle of the day and the roads were pretty much empty. She pulled up outside of their apartment, got out of the car and shut the door as quietly as she could. As miserable as she was to have to go home early from work, she couldn't wait to get into bed.
Lando was in the apartment, gaming, when she walked in. He was streaming, she could tell by just how loud he was being.
Shutting her eyes for just a moment, she dropped her things by the front door and walked towards the room he was in.
The room was dark aside from the light from the monitor and the strip lighting behind him. Her head immediately pounded, but she pushed through and knocked on the door.
Immediately Lando paused his game, pulled his headset off and turned towards the door. "Baby," he said as he took in the state of her. He stood from his chair and rushed towards her, pulling her into his arms and pulling her head into his chest. "Migraine?"
"Migraine," she answered and slowly nodded.
Wrapping his arms around her, Lando walked her towards their bedroom. He sat her down onto the bed and began closing the curtains. "Get into your pyjamas, I'll get you some water," he said and kissed the top of her head.
As Lando walked to the kitchen, she sat there for just a second. With the curtains closed she finally felt better. But she got herself up and got changed out of her work clothes.
Lando returned with a glass of water and two painkillers. He pulled back at the covers and she crawled beneath. "Thank you, Lan," she whispered, but he disappeared again.
She shut her eyes. Less than a minute Later Lando returned. He pressed a cold compress to her head. "I'm gonna go and finish the stream real quick."
"Hurry back," she whispered and Lando nodded his head.
He went back to the stream just to end it. The chat was asking why, but Lando wouldn't answer. He just ended the stream and returned to his girlfriend.
Lando was so considerate. He climbed into bed with her and pulled her close, letting her rest against his chest. Lando knew he snored, so he made a point to stay awake until she was fast asleep. Even then, he was hesitant. His priority was her, was to make sure she was happy and comfortable.
He loved her through her migraines.
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