Tumgik
#and now he talks about how he needs his beauty sleep and if he thinks about you so much as rubbing his tummy he'll literally explode .
norrizzandpia · 3 days
Note
Hi :))
How about angry love confession in the rain with Lando and then a kiss in the rain??!
Olive (LN4)
Summary: After a massive loss, Lando and Y/n find themselves losing sight of the love they once shared. A ghost town in a house they once imprinted their love in is riddled in pain and grief. Right at the edge of the cliff, ready to give up and part ways, an anniversary pulls them back together and reunites them in what they once had.
Warnings: THIS IS VERY TRIGGERING TO SOME AUDIENCES, depictions of a miscarriage, language, massive angst, HAPPY ENDING
Note: it is not a very angry love confession im sorry :( but i kind of took creative freedom here! I hope you like it! I also lied THIS IS NOT A TWO PART JUST ONE because it ends positively
I could be a good mother and I want to be your wife. - Not a lot, just forever by Adrianne Lenker
There wasn’t necessarily a moment Y/n could pinpoint as the ending of the love her and Lando had. There were fights they had that could’ve hinted at their falling out, but it seemed as though one day, she woke up and the house they lived in together was just one of ghosts and pain.
The walls that were once filled with laughter and happiness now creaked with silence. This was almost worse than a complete break up. This was hell on Earth. This was living with the man she loved more than anything and knowing he no longer loved her in the way she did, lying to himself to try and salvage something that wasn’t there.
It was almost as if they hated the fact that, at some point, they loved each other. Lando couldn’t dare to look at her, worried if he did then he would realize how much he used to feel for her, and Y/n never spoke unless needed, not wanting to alert him of her presence and see him tense in the way he did.
It was tragic and it was sorrowful and it wasn’t love.
THREE YEARS EARLIER
Y/n set the last box down, staring at the empty room and smiling. His arms surprised her as they winded their way around her waist.
He nuzzled into her neck and kissed softly at the skin, “What a beautiful home for my beautiful girl.”
She blushed, “Lan, it’s your home too. It’s ours.”
She yelped as he twirled her around in his arms, face coming into view and oh so close. He nipped at her nose, giggles ensuing from the two, “Say that again.”
Her arms crossed over his neck, “It’s our home.”
Lando sighed and let his eyes fall to the space behind her, “Three years it took us to move in together.”
She tutted, “Three years it took you to convince me to move to Monaco.”
His dimples gave way and her heart warmed. The deep divots on his skin always peeked out when he was talking to her, she thought of them as a physical sign of his adoration.
She traced over them and Lando stared down at her, Y/n unknowing, as his body drowned in the love he had for her. He wouldn’t want to move in with anyone else. When he pictured his life, it was her standing in this room with him.
Their bedroom.
“How long do you think until a little you and me runs around here?” He whispered, grabbing her attention once more.
Y/n’s eyes lightly fluttered down to her stomach, “Not long I hope.”
A mischievous grin deepened his dimples and she knew what he was going to say before the words even fell from his mouth.
”Want to try now?”
No bed in the room, he dragged her down to the kitchen and set her upon the counter. Their first memory in their house together.
PRESENT
”Excuse me,” She whispered, a slight roughness to her voice only a lack of sleep could explain.
Lando didn’t move.
She huffed, “Lando,”
His head turned and his eyes latched onto the wall behind her, “What?”
She crossed her arms over her chest, “Please move.”
His head gave two glances to the left and right before he shrugged, “It’s a small bathroom, Y/n. I can’t move.”
”You’re standing in the middle of the walkway, Lando. I can’t get through to get ready for bed.” She gave, eyes rolling when he wouldn’t budge.
Lando snapped, “Jesus, Y/n, why don’t you just take your shit down the hall to the other bathroom. Get ready there. Problem solve, please.”
Her eyes turned cold and when he finally met them, he couldn’t recognize the woman he once loved.
“Fuck you. You of all people should know why I won’t step foot in there. You won’t. Why should I?” She said, pushing past him forcefully to get where she needed to be.
He grunted, “Don’t fucking push me. What are we? Five?”
She chuckled, “That’s rich coming from you.”
Lando’s eyes rolled, “Oh, come on. Really? You’re gonna fucking throw that at me?”
She put her toothpaste against the bristles of the brush and gave him a quick look before going silent and letting the cool mint taste shut her up.
He grumbled, “Fucking silent treatment. Classic.”
Lando slammed the door shut, random mutters of annoyance under his breath as he walked away.
Y/n stared at the white paint as it chipped away, having been slammed many times before. And only when she turned back to stare at her reflection did she notice the tears down her cheeks.
She could leave, there was nothing stopping her, but what she didn’t want to admit was the love still there that she couldn’t let go of.
THREE YEARS EARLIER
”You don’t think it’s weird we’re trying for a baby when we aren’t even engaged yet, right?” Y/n asked as she sat at the counter, the morning breeze coming in through the main bay window and keeping small strands of her hair out of her face.
Lando’s back was to her as he hesitated, “No, I don’t think so. Lots of couples do it.”
Her eyebrows knitted together, “Are you sure? I feel like they’re all at least engaged.”
A plate of pancakes was clutched in his grip when he turned around, a small smile on his face as he looked at her. He set the food down and pushed her hair off her shoulder, “We aren’t other couples, baby. We can do things on our own terms.”
She nodded, “Maybe, but…” She trailed off.
His mouth was filled as he murmured, “But what?”
She poked her food around with her fork when she whispered, “But what if I want to get married?”
Lando stopped eating, practically stopped breathing altogether. He took a few seconds before resuming his prior movements as if nothing happened, “We can talk about it.”
His lack of enthusiasm made her retract into herself. He wanted a baby, but he didn’t want marriage seemingly.
Why?
PRESENT
”So, how are you? I haven’t seen you since before it happened, Y/n.” Her best friend, Carter, asked.
Y/n blinked at the girl across from her, willing away tears, “I’m doing better.”
Carter stared at her skeptically, “What about Lando? How’s he holding up?”
Her mouth moved down a bit and Carter knew. What the couple had been through was hard enough and her worst fear was for her best friend to lose the man she loved to it. They were young, too young, and what could’ve made them stronger only destroyed them.
Carter’s hand reached across the table and clutched Y/n’s when her mouth began to move in a response, but failed.
She took a deep breath, “I’m not sure. We aren’t really talking right now. It’s been hard on us.”
Carter nodded, “Of course, it has. Of course.”
Y/n looked around the coffee shop and smiled at the times her and Lando used to make trips in the early morning just to get the hot liquid. She met Carter’s gaze, “I’m hoping we can somehow make it through.”
The implication of that sentence was shattered, Carter’s eyebrows raised, “You don’t think you can?”
Y/n picked at her nails, “We just had massive problems before it happened and then… Well, it happened, and it was so much to work through. We just crumbled under the sheer amount of shit to talk through. It sounds stupid, I know, for how in love we were. But, by the time we got through the grieving, the problems had been so long suppressed, we just hated each other.”
Carter dipped her head down to catch Y/‘s eyes, “But, what if that was just the grieving. What if you never hated each other and you were both just trying to get through your own sadness. What if you aren’t even done grieving.”
Y/n shook her head, “We’re so far gone, Car. I don’t ever see him even giving me the light of day to talk through it.”
”Lando loves you, Y/n. He always has and he always will. He’s just in pain.” Carter tried, but Y/n snapped.
”So am I.”
A silence passed between them before Y/n dropped her head, muttering an apology for her tone. Carter just shook her head and reassured her friend. Though, in the back of her mind, she noted the way Y/n was behaving. The girl wasn’t the same and with all the loss she was experiencing, Carter couldn’t blame her.
TWO YEARS PRIOR
”LANDO!” Y/n screeched from the top of the stairs, running down them so fast she was worried of tripping.
Lando came running to her, concern evident on his face. When they met in the downstairs hallway and she seemed untouched, he cocked his head.
”What’s going on, baby?” He pulled her into his arms, checking the top of her head for any injuries.
”Lan,” She started, but his eyes were already on the object grasped in her palm.
He had felt it poking against his stomach when he leaned forward to look at her scalp and the infamous color of pink at the tip told him what news she was about to give.
His face lifted, “No,”
She nodded with a smile, “I’M PREGNANT!”
He screamed, a girlish one she giggled at, and picked her up, twirling her around. When he set her down, they jumped around together, laughing and yelping out in happiness.
”BABY! THERE’S A BABY!” He yelled before grabbing her face and kissing her sweetly. He poured his love for her into it, wanting her to know how happy he was to share this with her. He wanted to reassure her that he’d be there every step of the way, that he’d love her every step of the way. The softness of his hands on her body and his plump lips enveloping hers told her what he wanted them to.
When they pulled back, his eyes sparkled and he put his hand over her stomach.
Glistening in his eyes, he stared upon the woman that was the rest of his life and rubbed gently over her shirt, “We’re having a kid together.”
She nodded, “We are, Lan.”
His face nuzzled in her hair when he hugged her and whispered, “I’ve never wanted anything more. I love you so much, Y/n.”
PRESENT
”Your love is conditional, Lando. It always has been and it always will be.” Y/n yelled, anger radiating off her as she stared at him.
Lando’s hands clutched his hair, “You’ve never loved me for who I was, Y/n!”
She went quiet, heavily taken aback by his statement. When she came into this conversation, her only goal was to try and address the problems they’d had before everything they went through. She wanted Carter to be right. For their distance to be just grief and pain, for them to have a fighting chance. But, he only met her with hostility and defensiveness. It was bound to escalate, but not to this. Not to what he just accused her of.
Tears found their way down her cheeks, “Lando, I have loved you since the moment we met. I have loved you for you, not your money or your status. I have loved every part of you with truth and honesty. I have not put six years of my life into you based on a superficial love. You were my everything, Lan.” She got quiet, “I’ve defended you even when you were wrong, celebrated you even when you failed, cheered you on when you didn’t believe in yourself, pulled you back up when you’d fallen down. I have given my life to you. Don’t you dare look at me and tell me I never loved you for who you were. That was all I ever did. You wanted me to move to Monaco, albeit with some hesitance, I did. You wanted me to quit my job so I could come to every race, I was there. You didn’t want to get married, but I did, so we didn’t. You wanted a baby, I did too, and I gave that to you. I’m sorry if my failure in growing her has made you think I don’t love you for you, but some things I just can’t fucking control.”
By the end of her words, she was choking it all out, sobs emitting from her and pain the only thing she could communicate. Her last few sentences were said with screams, right in his face to try and make him hear her.
Hear her, he did, but he produced no response as he stared at her blankly.
Even as she pleaded for him, he couldn’t deliver.
“Fuck you, Lando.” She yelled before walking upstairs and slamming the bedroom door shut.
ONE YEAR EARLIER
”I love you, Lan.” Y/n whispered, his hand clutched in hers as they sat in the examination room.
He smiled at her, his dimples not appearing, “I love you too, Y/n.”
They stared at each other, stress and fear etched into the lines of their faces when the doctor walked in.
The somber look on his face made Y/n sit up, “No,”
He sat down, “Unfortunately, the baby didn’t make it. I am so very sorry for your loss. There was a problem with the-”
”What?” Lando whispered, his grip on Y/n’s hand loosening.
She looked at him as his finger slipped from hers, but he refused to look at her.
“No.” He said, adamant his worst nightmare wasn’t coming true. He stood from his chair, tears in his eyes, before storming out.
The first door slam of many.
Y/n laid still on the table, a hand over her bump and tears down her face, completely abandoned by the man who was supposed to be in this with her.
“I’m sorry about him,” She took a breath, “We really wanted to meet her.”
The doctor smiled softly, “Do you mind if I ask what you were going to name her? Sometimes, in situations like these, I find it’s best to refer to the child by their name rather than something else.”
She shook her head, “I don’t mind.” Her eyes drifted to the door, wishing for Lando to come back so they could utter the name of their daughter together, but he didn’t show.
Tears streamed from her face when she whispered, “Olive.”
The doctor smiled, “What a lovely name.”
The air of the room shifted when the man set down his clipboard, rolling his chair closer and rubbing his forehead.
”Now, we have to discuss the options of stillbirth.”
She was expected to be strong, to talk about what she was most comfortable with when birthing a daughter she would never get to see prosper.
Maybe she could’ve been strong had Lando been by her side like he promised. But he was nowhere to be found.
And that made her hate him.
ONE YEAR EARLIER
The couple stared at the assembly of rocks shoved in the dirt of their backyard, a formation of a heart staring back at them. The memorial of their daughter was the last thing they had which tied themselves to her. Lando stood feet away from Y/n, not having touched her in the week after the news and the birth.
He had been there with her, but mentally, she knew he was somewhere else. Part of her understood, she would’ve mentally placed herself some place else had she not been having to focus on pushing, but she also loathed him for not stepping up and being with her like he had promised.
Part of her didn’t want him to touch her, but the other part wished for him to show any kind of sign of attraction toward her. She felt unwanted and worthless in the eyes of the man that once made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the entire world. The destruction of them laid before them, staring at them so innocently.
Her daughter. Their daughter. The little her and him that was supposed to be drawing on the walls and dropping food on the floor stared back at them in the form of rocks and dirt.
She reached for his hand, it wet from the tears she had been wiping away, but he just jerked his body away and retreated back into the house.
Maybe that was the moment where they genuinely died.
PRESENT
The one year anniversary of Olive and her memory only brought Y/n the same amount of pain it did a year ago. She had anticipated that. This was her daughter. A whole in her heart would always be there in the shape of Olive.
It didn’t matter that it was raining or how cold the day was, Y/n was going to push herself to step outside and visit the rocks her and Lando had planted there all those months ago in an effort to reconcile the pain that harbored within their bodies.
She found the dirt patch and sat in front of it, mud soaking her jeans and water soaking her hair. She felt alive in the midst of the rain, the most she had since it happened, and she laughed.
“Funny how you killed me, but you make me feel alive today.” She whispered, staring at the heart intensely.
She breathed, “I hope you don’t think I hate you. For a moment there, I thought I did. I hate to say it out loud, but I really thought I did. I thought I hated you because I blamed Lando and I’s problems on you. I blamed my pain on you. You brought so much happiness into this home, but you brought so much pain and even after a year, I still don’t know how to deal with it. But, I know now that that was just the grief talking. I never hated you, I just loved you so much and losing you was one of the worst things that has ever happened to me. Living without you, even though I never knew you, has been the greatest challenge of my life. Your father, I hope he’s found some sort of peace in all of this. No matter how much he’s hurt me, not shown up, he deserves so much. I hate that you never got to meet him, know him, be loved by him. It’s an experience, I’ll tell you that. It’s chaos and it’s sometimes anger or sadness, but it’s love and it’s deep love. When you’re loved by your father, and you were, it’s beautiful. If there’s anything I could wish for, it would be for you to be here and be able to describe to someone, like I can, how amazing it feels to be loved the way your Dad loves.”
”Really?” Lando whispered from behind her, his broken voice striking a part of her she forgot was there.
She turned around, looking up at him and smiling softly, “Yeah,”
Lando sat down next to her, the two leaning into each other in the coldness of the rain. Their shoulders touched and it brought electricity throughout Y/n’s body, the first time their bodies had met in a while. Whether it was because he was cold or he craved her like she did, Y/n didn’t know.
“I hate that she never got to experience what it was like to be loved by you.” He murmured from beside her, staring at the rocks like she was.
Y/n softened, “What happened to us, Lan?”
He sighed, “Y/n, you were never a failure because Olive died before we could meet her. I never thought you failed.”
She was getting sick of crying, “But, you left me, Lan. You left me on that table, you left me in this house, you left me by myself, you left me with the memory of her. You left me alone when I needed you most. You never touched me, never looked at me. I know we could’ve been something with her. We would’ve been great parents. That hurts the most. There was so much potential for immense happiness, but it was just taken so fast. I could be a good mother, Lan, and I want to be your wife, but you didn’t show up for me.”
The sound of her sobs broke his heart and he finally let his body succumb to its desires to feel her warmth against his. He lightly let his hand fall over hers, checking to make sure his touch was wanted. When she didn’t fight back, he let their fingers tangle together.
”I knew you would be a good mother. I know you will be. That was never it. I was ashamed of myself. I had felt like I had forced this child on you and now it was like I was forcing you to go through the pain of losing a daughter because of it. I hated looking at you, touching you because it hurt to let my mind wander to its idea that I was the reason you were crying every night and a shell of who you once were. I wanted to fight my love for you because it just made me so angry. I felt like I had ruined the life we were so excited to lead. I had destroyed our hope and destroyed the wants we had for this house. I just couldn’t come to terms with it all without blaming myself and I pushed you away in the process. I hate myself for that, Y/n.” He stated with force. She could tell he was determined to right his wrongs.
She leaned her head on his shoulder, “But, what about not wanting to get married? How come I wasn’t enough to want to marry?”
He shook his head, “That was never it. You were always enough. I just didn’t want you to be permanently tied to me unless you wanted to leave me. I’m always gone and traveling. I’m not a stable boyfriend and you deserve one. I can’t give that to you. I didn’t want you to be officially associated with me in case you woke up one day and decided to find something better.”
Y/n turned to look at him, their teary eyes meeting each other without malice for the first time in a long time, “How come you would think I would ever want to leave you? Plus, a baby? Lan, that would’ve tied me to you forever.”
He nodded, “But, not officially. We could coparent and you could walk whenever you chose. If you walked out, you wouldn’t be faced with mounds of paperwork and custody battles over a kid we both grew. I wanted you to have the option.”
”But I never wanted the option. I still don’t want the option.” She said, her voice firm and knowing.
Lando’s eyes lit up, “You still want to be with me? Even after everything I put you through?”
Y/n’s eyes erupted in fury, “Lando! I love you! I always have and I always will! I wanted Olive with you and I wanted a life with you! Stop, I’m begging you, stop sabotaging us with your fears!”
He smiled at her, his dimples appearing and making her heart soar, and she just huffed, “What?”
He chuckled softly, “I just never expected to be happy you were getting mad at me.”
At his confession, Y/n’s stern demeanor lessened and she caught a glimpse of the man he used to be. Maybe they just needed each other to find who they once were.
Her hand in his, he whispered once more, “I’m sorry for accusing you of not loving me for who I am. That was completely untrue. I’ve never felt as loved by anyone than by you and I’m sorry for suggesting you use Olive’s bathroom to get ready for bed. I knew it was wrong the moment I said it. I’ve fucked up so many times, Y/n. I’ve hurt you so much and I’ve failed you so much. I’m so sorry. I love you so much and I can’t believe I fell short when it was tested. I’ll never let it happen again. Let me show you.”
She nodded, her head falling into the crook of his neck as his arms found her waist, “I’ll let you show me. We’ll be okay and we’ll get through it. I know it now. We’ll overcome this. We have each other, that’s all that matters.”
He pulled back for a moment to kiss her, find her lips when he hadn’t for so long. When they met, the cold water dripping around them, their love was cemented once more. There were still things to talk through, work through, but they stopped deciding to try and do it alone. They had each other, they depended on each other. That was okay.
He slumped back when they separated, in a moment of pure bliss, and her body fell further into him. Completely cradled by him, Lando stared at the small note that Olive’s name was written on, having been put there by Y/n the year prior.
They missed her, they always would, but in front of her memorial, they found each other again. In front of her remembrance, Lando and Y/n were reminded of how much they used to love each other. They allowed their walls to fall and returned to each other in front of their daughter. In a solid and warm embrace, they knew a future together was not over or out of reach.
In fact, it was just beginning.
654 notes · View notes
suguru-getos · 2 days
Text
fractures // geto suguru x f!reader // chapter 1
Tumblr media
warnings: abusive!suguru, mentions of cuts, mentions of physical abuse (choking, beating up, chaining), not for the faint-hearted. not beta'd. dead dove do not eat. summary: being a monkey is the norm except when you're captured by geto sama because he needs money from your parents. however, you may just have to suffer a little extra because of the forced thinking about the right and wrongs... you're putting him through.
it has been in total of three days since you have been caged in the geto estate, at first, your anxiety and palpitations could not let you sleep, now? you're too exhausted to have those in the first place. it was simple, your parents were millionaires and owed geto some money, they decided not to go ahead with the deal and in turn, Miguel brought you here. in the confined walls of the estate where they crush you chokingly.
it's 3 am, your eyes wide awake in the bed that you're confined to, leg chained to the bedpost and the metallic bite of the chain brushing against your skin, bruisingly. your ankle is tied from the bedpost, you could walk around only to a certain extent. why? because you tried to escape and almost succeeded. now even when you try to sleep, it serves as a reminder of how you are a prisoner here. you hate this, all of this because the cult leader named geto thinks you're useless and a monkey. you don't even have an idea what that means...
---
"they have a daughter." miguel hums at suguru, crossing his arms and manspreading, sitting with geto in his office. the feline eyed man raised a brow, "is that so?" "Interesting..." he hums again, feet tapping on the floor. "Miguel, how does she look like?" his voice laced with curiosity echoed in the room which had the two of them contemplating future plans. "wait, i have a picture.."
and there you were, papped and captured from your morning errand, holding your coffee in your hand and wearing a white tank top, and some parachute pants. you were beautiful, suguru could almost call you perfect. if only... you were not a pathetic monkey. he hates them, and they have no place in his world, they will never be a part of his world...
"i just want to go home- i don't have any idea what you're talking about." another flashback rang through your mind. your first day here, comprising you begging and whimpering against the ropes of the chair you were tied to. "of course you don't, your parents do. your opinions are worthless in this anyway." geto looks at you with disgust, his eyes carry a strange emotion... he just, hated you for existing. nothing else. mere existence...
"fuckers like you who have no morals whatsoever have no other choice but to kidnap huh? fucking asshole!" you snarled, screaming out in frustration. you had no idea how your life could change so easily. a large hand wrapped around your throat the next instant, choking the life out of you with no relent. you struggled, eyes widening and feet kicking with wheezing gasps. "you see?" geto hums, leaning in against your ear and gravely whispering, "this is how easy it is for me to kill you, you're nothing. just a worthless piece of shit born to create curses in this world."
you couldn't do anything, your hands were tied up, you could only see the life you had, flash in front of your eyes before you passed out. suguru has no idea of his strength with a feeble human yet. he leans back, noticing the prominent bruising on your neck once your head leaned back, limp and lifeless. he yanked his hand away, putting some sanitizer on it. "pathetic." he hums, gritting his teeth. you were so weak... so fucking weak and still all you had to do was use that pathetic mouth didn't you?
geto left you there for the night, a very minuscule part of him feeling upset over the way he treated you, he would call himself an asshole for it if it was a sorcerer, but you weren't one. who cares if you're not a sorcerer anyways...
the next day, your eyes blinked awake, a hiss escaping you when you noticed you were still tied up, some of the blood circulation stopped because of the ropes tying your body to the chair. you wanted to scream, but your voice box hurts after yesterday. a grim reminder of what your kidnapper was truly capable of. you sniffled weakly, senses in fight or flight.
before your pitiful breakdown could even commence, manami opened the door, watching you with the same disgust her 'geto sama' carries... what is wrong with these people? truly? why do they look at you like you mean nothing. like you have done the greatest sin of the earth just by being born? "good morning, here's the thing. geto sama has informed your parents that you're under our custody, if they agree to give the money then you're safe to go, or we kill you." she shrugs. killing... is it that normal of a thing to say?
your eyes widened at the sheer panic of it, manami noticing the palpable fear in them and laughing, walking closer to you and untying you roughly; ignoring the scratches the rough rope surface would gift your skin. "take a shower." she yanked you by your hair, throwing you on the floor.
a loud whimper escapes you when your ribs collide with the solid marble, your body was still recovering from being tied up. what is wrong with these people? you're sure you have some visceral damage at this, your internal organs hurt with that throw, blinding pain in your sensitive scalp because of the hold in your hair. suck it up... you need to suck it up. "shouldn't you- treat me like a human at least? if my parents come back for me?" you grunt, using the aid of your palms to get up, a little dizzy.
manami cocks a hip out, "geto sama was right, you have a smart mouth for a monkey." she scoffs, walking outside with a hold on your nape. you stumble on the floor, how is this woman so strong? you couldn't understand why... you couldn't budge in her grip on you.
everything is hazy after, except you were force-fed hot soup for telling geto to kill himself during dinner, and not fed at all the next day, getting captured as well for running away and now a chain on your ankle.
you close your eyes, hugging yourself tightly. you need to be your own comfort. you have to be your own comfort. but its hard... the way they look at you, the way they treat you, everything is making you wish you were better off dead. why are your parents taking so long in the first place? what's wrong with them really?
your body is exhausted, unable to keep up with the constant stress. you do end up getting dazed to sleep. although its filled with nightmares. you're woken up to an echo of a voice.
"good morning, i'm sure these don't feel good." geto hums, and you jolt awake, leaning instinctively against the headboard. eyes glossed, fear dancing through your nerves. you don't respond. why is he here? "i didn't think you were that dumb to try to run yesterday." he clicks his tongue, looking at you. gosh you still have the popped lip from when manami hit you after getting caught. some of it is in your nose too. geto sighs, its the way you behave that he gets conflicted. he has always been an underdog supporter, now a bunch of powerful sorcerers were torturing a frail human just because of money...
maybe he should do you a favor and kill you instead. he could just tell your parents that they delayed in sending the sum of money and take the money anyway.He wants to stay true to his word but also wants to return you to them. another part of him... which he hates the most, almost wants to hug you and apologize. That part is the reason you're being treated this way.
"you're not answering me." he raises a brow, watching you shiver with fear and flinch at the tone of his voice. "I'm sorry, won't run again." you managed to say meekly; within three days of you being here, you look like a completely different person. your neck is bruised, your face is bruised, your hair is a mess, you are chained to a room. it is drastic for you, geto knows that. "hm, you know the consequences aren't too great, i would just listen to me if i were you." he adds on, watching your shoulders slump in defeat. my god were you beautiful, you were perfect in his eyes, someone he should have taken on dates if his life was normal. thanks to your disgusting kind, his life isn't normal.
"manami will come to you with breakfast." he stands up with that, and your heart races. you hate that woman and the way she treats you. you wouldn't say geto is any better but at least he isn't downright awful... so far. you nodded, getting up to go and shower at least. the clank of chains in your ankle echoes in the room, and it makes geto stand still for a moment. the flash of his little girls caged haunts in his eyes. isn't he doing something similar to you.
"y/n." he says your name, watching your eyes slowly dart towards him. "if you behave for a few days, the chain will be gone."
you don't respond to that, walking away. suguru bites his lip, he hates this feeling he's getting. a frog in his fucking throat and it's just been four days of you being here. he shouldn't deter from his thoughts like this anyway. you're a monkey, a useless monkey who should be killed as soon as possible.
manami comes in with breakfast and you could only manage a few bites despite not being able to eat properly. manami was not that mean today, all she said that she expected you dead but you're not yet. she says this everyday, nothing ordinary.
meanwhile, your parents have decided to actually manage the sum of money, but it will take time. they inform geto of the same. your mom pathetically sobbing for her little baby girl. "don't worry, she will be alive and kicking, i will keep my word. you have 10 days." suguru cuts the phone call after.
you... would be elated to hear this news wouldn't you? you should be! and so he walks towards your room, where you were laying on the mattress, leg bruised and bleeding. his eyes widen a little. what did you fucking do?
you had a big and a deep gash on your ankle, from the looks of it, you were trying to get free from the chains. what did you even use for this? his eyes land to the sharp enough culinary knife on your bedside table. you were crazy, any other monkey girl would simply behave and let time decide her freedom. why did you want to be so miserable?
"y/n." he mumbles your name again, and your eyes land on him, "geto" you respond, you didn't even carry any malice when you said your name. he walks towards you, getting the first aid from your cupboard and tending to your leg. "if you want an easy enough death, just ask me." he's sure you'd have another panic attack at this statement. you've been having one every day for the past four days after all.
"hm, gimme n' easy death then" you hummed, emotionless as ever. "cus i think m' parents don't give a shit anyway." a stray tear escapes through your eyes, followed by a soft hiccup of a choked sniffle. geto stays quiet at that. yesterday night, he had a dream of you smiling. or what he envisioned your smile would look like... it would surely make you look more beautiful than you already are. he's so sure of it.
"it's not like that, they did contact me and soon you'll be free." he smiled, the close-eyed feline curve that charms everyone fails to work on you. "i see." you hum, and geto trifled with the metallic cuffs on your ankle, gently putting them away. he can't really let you be this miserable. it was pathetic, it was making him pathetic.
"sorcerers exist to protect the weak." his own voice echoes which he preached satoru with. a soft sigh escaping him. he hates you. he hates what you do to him and he hates how you're having this effect on him without even trying. "yeah, a few more days of me tolerating a hooker-looking pest like you." he grits his teeth, getting up. you blinked, unsure what the sudden change in his demeanor signified. all you could do was brace. brace for another attack.
suguru watches you do so, and that sends a shiver down his spine. what's happening to him? he kills monkeys without remorse! maybe he should kill you, fuck your parents, fuck their money. fuck you.
"since you really like using the knife how about i teach you how to use it hm?" you blinked when he spits those words out, feet stomping and holding the knife up. before you could even lean away he has your wrist in his hold, hot tears streaming down your face with the way your heart thumped loud from your mouth. "please please- no no- what're you-" the pointed tip of the knife glides down your skin, and despite your gutteral, blood-curdling screams and pleas, geto only lets go of your hand when he's written the word 'MONKEY' in your arm. throwing the knife away and watching you bleed.
"i hate you, stupid monkeys." he walks away with that, while you succumb to the ache and pass out. it hurts, you could feel the blood trickling down the mattress before your body lulls you to sleep.
meanwhile, suguru shuts himself in his room, the daunting sound of the door shutting down loud and him covering his ears with tears streaming down his face. what's he even doing? why did he have to do that? oh he knows why. he wanted to prove a point that he doesn't feel anything when he hurts a monkey. that he relishes in it... but that didn't happen.
didn't happen at all...
just nine more days with you until suguru geto gets rid of you and proceeds with his mission to kill all non-sorcerers.
99 notes · View notes
Text
Oh, the Privilege of Growing Old | Simon Riley x Reader
Tumblr media
I used to post my stories on tiktok under the username @codlover but I figured since tiktok might get banned I should delete that account and post it here. Here’s one of the stories.
Feel free to use my work as a prompt/inspiration. Better yet, feel free to write you’re ideal part 2 just MAKE SURE YOU CREDIT AND TAG ME.
WARNINGS: None that I can think of, let me know if I missed any, though.
His eyes peel open under the beam of sunlight, which peaked menacingly through the window – Simon’s neck hurts, a crippling pain that came back every few days just to remind him that his youth was long behind him. He didn’t mind the reminder much, it was pesky and painful, but it was a humbling reminder that he’d made it much further than he ever believed he would.
Despite the pain, he cranes his neck to the opposite side of the bed. These days, you often awoke long after him. Simon had always been an awful sleeper, that part of him never left even after retirement; but when you were younger, you often stressed being awake before him; a competition you never won.
With a tilt of his head, there you were – you in all your glory, sleeping soundlessly right beside him. He reckoned it was all the beauty sleep you got that kept you aging well. At the rippling age of seventy-three you had few wrinkles, excluding the smile lines around your eyes that would especially be exaggerated when you beamed up at him, even if you no longer recognized him.
At least, you didn’t recognize him as who he was now.
“[Y/N],” He later called out to you from the kitchen, “Breakfast is ready.”
“I can’t eat right now,” you cried, running around the bedroom with a million things craddled in your hands; hairsprays, makeup. “My husband will be home soon, I need to do my hair!”
Over the many years of you being together, Simon never considered that your day to day activities revolved around him even while he was on deployment. Alzheimer’s would quickly reveal your hidden truth for him, though. At first, he found it endearing how you would unknowingly reenact your younger days, bustling about the house and stressing over decorations and “I need to go buy a new dress for when I get Simon from the airport!”.
No matter what day you thought it was, Simon would relive that day with you, watching you fret over the smallest details; “Oh, this is so cute, but Simon doesn’t like orange!”
He would spend everyday listening to you talk about himself – your smart, strong, loving husband who’d done so many incredible things while serving his country. Your Simon who’d given you three sons and everything else you ever wanted. Simon Riley, who you were so proud of even if he thought lowly of himself. You were just so in love with him.
Overtime, he began to feel his heart ache. He never thought before that maybe you’d spent every minute of every day trying to decipher something as little as whether Simon preferred you in a pale, light shade of purple or a blush, baby pink. He never cared as long as you were still here when he came home. But it seemed that making sure the house was comfortable and that you were dolled up and pretty for him was essential to life for you.
It made him regret back in your twenties, when he’d left you for six months in fear that if he died, you’d be left with the responsibility of cutting all his strings for him. It had broken your heart, and for a time you believed he’d left you for another woman and covered it up with such an excuse, the easiest excuse. He hadn’t ever known another woman after you – he just didn’t want you to live out the rest of your life kneeling over his grave if he died.
He finally gave in and brought you back home when he ran into you in the city, still wearing the wedding ring. When he asked why you would still wear the damn thing, you said, “I took my vows, Simon. I’ll keep them.”
The thought of leaving you never crossed his mind again, even if it was to save you your heartache. Clearly, it would ache whether he was dead or alive when he left you. It took time to fully regain your trust and restore your broken heart, and he didn’t blame you.
You became his motivator, then – the reason to always make it home, if only to protect your mental well-being. The idea of you writhing in pain, sleeping in a cold, empty bed, is what kept him alive all these years, and he swore by it. He would never want that for you.
“[Y/N],” Simon says, now entering the bedroom, watching you lay out all your cosmetics and self-care products.
“Not now,” you huff impatiently, “Simon’s gonna be waiting for me at the airport.”
Simon’s gazing down on you warmly, “Simon will want you to eat, love.”
“Do you even know him enough to say that?” You scowl, “Don’t touch me, he’ll kill you.”
He wants to laugh, but there’s in itch in his brain that reminds him not to. It seemed you were quite . . . fanatical when it came to him. After almost forty years of marriage, you gave him reason every day to love you more, and more, and mor–
“Believe me, love, I know him well,” Simon sets the plate down on your vanity, the one he built for you many years ago. “Eat. You get restless when you’re hungry.”
Simon leans over to kiss the top of your head, and he laughs when you swat him away, angry, saying, “Watch! Just watch when he gets home, you’re done!”
With the empty threat of total destruction hanging over his head, he collapses himself back on the bed and flickers on the TV, a small smile playing at his lips as he watches you out the corner of his eyes.
This lifetime had not been enough time with you. But deep down in his soul, Simon knew he’d find you again in the next.
69 notes · View notes
baby-tini · 11 hours
Note
Imagine Dabi kidnaps you and he's actually really sweet. Besides the kidnapping, he could be actual boyfriend/husband material. Like he hasn't hurt you physically and it kind of fucks with your head a bit. He provides everything you need to live plus more. And you don't have to worry about surviving anymore. Since you were kidnapped dare you say more relaxed than ever. So, you put up with it and eventually develop Stockholm syndrome fr.
I don't think this was a request BUT I genuinely can't stop thinking about this, I love when he's so soft.
You despised him at first when he took you away, but it got better, Dabi told you it would. He told you that if you behaved that he would take care of you, treat you like a princess. Dabi truly loved you, he just wanted you to understand that and he would do anything to make you understand. It took a little while with punishments here and there but it worked. When he came home, you were there to greet him with open arms. Telling him how much you missed him, kissing him, nuzzling into his chest. Dabi could truly say, that for once in his life he truly felt happy, at peace... like he finally was enough for someone.
It felt.. nice, to be around Dabi, he was comforting in a way. Brushed your hair for you, braided it, let you sit with him on the balcony as he smoked. It was nice to just sit and talk about things with him, smelling the mid-night air as you leaned against his chest. He smelled nice, the smell of cigarettes now becoming a comfort, the sick smell of ash that had you wrinkling your nose now had you clinging to him, shoving your nose into his jacket. Dabi truly became someone of comfort for you, holding you close on cold nights. Kissing your head when the thunder sounded too loud on some nights.
You don't remember falling asleep, but then again, no one does. His side of the bed was warm though, so that had too mean he was home now, throwing the comforter off you go looking for him, and sure enough, he was out on the balcony, smoking. He truly looked ethereal, his eyes relaxed, shining a beautiful cerulean, head thrown back, dyed black hair a little tousled from scarred hands running through it. Dabi truly is a sight to behold.
Opening the sliding door, he looks up at you as you step out, closing it behind you so that bugs don't get it. He wraps an arm around you as you walk towards him, plopping down into his lap as blows the smoke away from you. "How you feeling doll, you sleep good?" There's a nod from you as you bury your face into his chest, inhaling that sweet smell of ash you've come to adore so much. The smell always makes you think of him, an automatic comfort it brings you is a stress-relief.
"How was work," you ask him softly, running your hands through his hair. He inhales through his nose before sighing, "It was fine, tiring, but fine." You can tell, he sounds exhausted, looks exhausted too. You kiss him, running your hands up and down the nape of his neck, he shudders at that, pecking your cheek. His right hand running up and down your back, drawing little patterns every now and again.
"...can I hit it," he glances at you, then looks at the cigarette, the tip burning a bright blue. He hums at you, holding it to your lips as you inhale the smoke. Holding it for a couple seconds, you blow it out away from his face. He pushes some of your hair behind you ear, mouthing at your neck. "You feel better pretty girl, hm?" His voice is always a welcome, low and deep, sounding so apathetically pretty.
"Yeah, thank you," he hums again, kissing at your collar bone as he runs a hand through your hair. He kisses your cheek before giving a couple pats to your ass, "come on, up, I'm tired doll, lets head in."
48 notes · View notes
fumifooms · 7 hours
Text
"Marchil? I guess I can see it on Chilchuck’s end, but what about Marcille’s? What makes you think she could develop feelings for him?" I’m glad you asked!
The first thing to note is that she does think highly of him
Tumblr media
In the page on the right, literally defending his virtues and literally comparing him to Dalclan. And oh…
Tumblr media
She does love a brooding mysterious guy who closes himself to love. But surely, Chilchuck isn’t her type at all, right? He’s not princely or knightly at all. In apperances certainly not, both looks wise and demeanor wise, but then that’s why she seeks to know him on a deeper level, to not only look shallowly.
And hmm. Chilchuck really is quite selfless isn’t he? Always looking out for others, and saving specifically her often, always making sure himself and, staying in or even running towards danger for her sometimes. Modesty is often considered heroic…
Tumblr media
And can we talk about that drowning one… You can definitely frame the special attention as him knowing she tends to hesitate or be clumsy, and then his insistance on pulling her out of danger that she’s the healer aka the most important to keep alive, but. From the one who says that he just keeps his ass out of fights and won’t help this is a lot of risk to take, and he does die trying to pull her to safety in the dungeon rabbits chapter. And the drowning bit??? That’s when the dungeon collapses. The only reason they DON’T die of drowning here is that the water then gives way to outside. There was NO hope of pulling her to safety here and resurrections would likely not work either, he truly preferred to die with her than try to survive himself.
Sit your ass back DOWN you are in no state, self-sacrifical hero much damn
Tumblr media
And Marcille definitely noticed this imo, after all she loves learning all she can about him, remembering things like how he hates waiting on people too. She pays attention to him and what he does and what he says. This to say that it’s notable, whatever reason for it you may think (though we know by this point at least she was already aware he was an adult though it wasn’t internalized), out of everyone it’s Chilchuck’s bed that she wants to sleep in during the Golden Kingdom stay. He’s safe and comforting to her: dependable, the defining trait in her view of him as is shown by the relationship chart in the Adventurer’s Bible.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
^ Lending handkerchiefs is a romance trope btw and handkerchiefs have irl history of being used for courting. Especially in old English literature and plays like Shakespeare’s Othello, and personally I do see a lot of Shakespeare in Dalclan (nobility political drama with some romance). There’s how his cowl is a dearly beloved souvenir from his family too, there’s a lot of aesthetic tropes you can apply to him.
All this to say you can 100% romanticize Chilchuck into a princely noble guy if you try and that’s exactly what Marcille does with the wife roleplay. She doesn’t need much in the first place, she latches onto crumbs and makes aesthetic narratives out of details, give her an inch she’ll take a mile.
But what’s interesting about the shift throughout the arc of her and his relationship is that she starts out idealizing him into a little angel of a kid (shapeshifter), and she ends it idealizing him as a virtuous husband and family man instead.
And what’s doubly interesting is that in the former, she’s actively warping who he is personality and demeanor wise to fit the aesthetic, he doesn’t have that bitter pride of not asking for help and the edges have been smoothened. But what she does during the wife roleplay is something else, she acknowledges the flaws and just… Accepts them, rolls with them. She’s aware of his flaws and implements them into the narrative, but the reason why his wife left doesn’t capitalize on them even, rather Chil is chilblivious and his wife loves him very much still, she’s just testing him after having had a night of feeling out of place at his side.
And this is what separated the idealization vs romanticization, she’s not twisting him into someone else she’s just uplifting what he is and focusing on the good sides.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Marcille: "he has a shitty personality sometimes but if he was my husband I’d still cherish him" "If I were your wife I’d be overjoyed to go out with you and would get myself prettied up while you complain about me taking a long time, your friends would tell me that I’m nice and that’d make me happy, but I’d also be sad because you wouldn’t tell me that you love me enough"
He’s angry and his wife left him, he’s *flawed*, but he’s still worth hyping up, still worth having his own romance story, still has a shot of winning back his beloved. She sees him for what he is, human and real and not a carefully scripted character that fits an aesthetic, and she thinks it’s still worthy of love and admiration and fighting for
And what’s funny too is that you might expect her to cool down on him once she learns more about him but actually she only gets increasingly into his business. You tell her your age and next thing you know you promise to introduce her to your family. Give her an inch she takes a mile. And too the thing is, Senshi is equally mysterious but she doesn’t pester him like at all, asks him ONCE about his succubus and he doesn’t even answer and that’s like… It. With Chilchuck it starts off innocently enough with her wanting to know his age, hometown, the stuff she mentions having asked pre-canon. But it just keeps and keeps going and escalating. Think she’ll be satisfied now knowing you have a wife and kids, maybe she’s disillusioned now? Wrong! She wants to know their names and ages and occupations and hey how did you propose to your wife? Do you think she’ll stop after meeting them? What’s next? What will she want to know next????
Tumblr media
She’s… Like it’s not a reach that Marcille is all over him. Like it doesn’t mean it’s romantic but she just is. She is not normal about him idk. Can you not ask him about what tongue technique he used when first kissing his wife, give the man breathing room
Marcille could literally go "if I was Chilchuck’s wife" having deeply thought out the hypothetical and people would still ask where anyone sees any romantic potential between them. Oh wait
There’s a platonic explanation for everything (almost?) in Dungeon Meshi don’t say I’m saying otherwise, but it’s definitely not like there’s nothing here to read into lol
Going off a bit more under read bc it’s my fave topic
Marcille has a whole theme with the charming prince trope with her idealization and storybook motif and Chil is kinda the "Well someone perfect like that isn’t very realistic and romance is usually more complex and that’s ok and good and flawed people can still be ✨virtuous✨" catalyst
Do you see do you see she starts canon thinking the most romantic thing is a prince charming but her arc in the end has her romanticizing an average, flawed, real and realistic family man, who’s on the poorer side and is on the verge of divorce. And that’s what he needed, too, seeing the positive of himself and the situation instead of focusing on the negative is explicitly what inspires him to hope that he might be able to reconcile with his wife, gives him the courage and self-esteem to shoot his shot.
He IS a prince figure instead that now it’s not about idealizing the grand and overt it’s about romanticizing the small things in real life!! About finding joy and beauty in things that seem normal or mundane and uplifting it to make the world feel kinder!!!!
He’s the devoted virtuous man that she wantsss not the storybook prince that’s unrealistic and could crumble like a script at any time. He’s the perfect example of a flawed realistic but virtuous & devoted & loving man. Far from a prince charming, but not fully detached from it either. Something worth fighting for despite the flawed cracks. Like literally, flawed romance being worth fighting for is literally the finale of Chilchuck and Marcille’s arc on the matter, where their separate arcs and issues intersect at the most crucial moment.
Marcille is important to Chil’s arc not only because of her optimism, but also because of her interest and knowledge in romance & matters of the heart, and that’s what he needs to both open his heart up to hope and to try to reconcile with his wife, like idk sounds gay
Their arc together is literally learning to 1) see each other for how they are and not undermining their qualities capacities etc etc while still not leaving flaws unchecked either and 2) opening up to people. Marcille LITERALLY makes Chil open his heart up to hope like idk man. What do you want from me. He’s literally the guy helping her through deconstructing novels and fantasy and rose tinted glasses and like. Deconstructing the prince charming figure into something more real but still romantically beautiful like KUI KUI STOOOOP STOP I’M ALREADY HOOKED I’M ALREADY-
 Ok fine that’s me reading into the tropes too much forgive me for being storybook brained but like. Speaking his heart out to a lone woman on a balcony, Romeo and Juliette shit, asking if she, too, doesn’t want to meet his family, madly blushing. And like she’s learned with Chilchuck it’s all in the little things, all the implications he cannot speak aloud. She does reciprocate, does blush madly back, and the first thing she does is shower him in flowers and jewelry and what in her heart is coded as romantic gifts
Tumblr media
A lady, stashed away in a high tower by her lonesome, waiting for someone to call out to her from below… Romeo courting type shit with an offer, a heartfelt spiel, implicit confession from underneath her balcony. Offering him flowers because he succeeded in calling out to her heart…….. And they have to climb to her too…. Crazy
Doesn’t it sound like a proposal. One that’s both so storybook-like and not, contrastedly real and grounded, all about the implications rather than in your face grand gestures, "Don’t you want to meet my family?". They literally have an arc about the topic of romance and this is the climax/pinnacle of it like god?? This is @ the woman who said "Chilchuck is a shy/bashful man so I know he wouldn’t tell me he loves me, but…" btw
To quote a friend, truly the shiny secret unlockable dating sim capture target : THE DUNGEON LORD BIT WAS SO FUNNY BECAUSE HE KNEW SHE'D TAKE IT HOOK LINE AND SINKER HES THE ONE WHO GOT HER TO TURN AROUND COMPLETELY SHES LIKE. WIDE EYED FLAG RAISED???? FLAG RAISED WITH CHILCHUCK 👀👀👀‼️👀👀‼️👀
And the way that this is the culmination of their arc together… Like people are not ready for the ‘Chil calling out to dunlord Marcille on the balcony has Romeo and Juliette romance novels imagery’ take. Or the ‘their arc is about growing to see beauty even in the non-idealized, in the flawed and in the real’ take which makes it so so perfect if she were to lower her ideal from a charming elven prince to a virtuous halfling man (which she does end up romanticizing)
So there, you got to witness in real time what happens when I think about marchil for longer than 2 minutes, there are so many layers it’s a deranged rabbithole. I saw the necronomicon of subtext and it’s driving me to madness with forbidden knowledge that no one else sees
……. Like what if I told you she implicitly picked Chilchuck over a "unrealistic prince charming who’s actually disingenuous" much earlier in the story already. If she was given the choice to think through going with a guy that seems perfect and chivalrous like her succubus she’d pick Chilchuck over the other actually. If I sound insane rn tune in for my full analysis on them coming this month hopefully thank youu. Interwoven arcs of fantasy vs reality and idealization vs pessimism I love youuu
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
So now you know the general thesis of my planned analysis about the importance of the prince charming figure in Marcille and Chilchuck’s arc, where she romanticizes things to a sometimes worrying degree or idealize people into something easy and digestible and poetic (like Chil being a kid, and then him being a virtuous ✨✨✨husband), and how she needs to value aesthetics less and actual acts and facts more, be more grounded (like seeing people for what they are flaws and all, and accepting that people need money and not pulling through on principles of honor or unity shouldn’t get Namari shamed) and a part of that is accepting that Chilchuck is BOTH flawed and virtuous, a loving husband that still has shitty moods and fumbled his marriage so bad etc etc. So it’s like, her image of perfect prince charming that will whisk you away on an ethereal romance -> realistic flawed middle aged dad with personality issues and a failing marriage but he still is worthy of love and having his cute grand romance story and his happy ending. Ik I keep repeating the same point through this but I need it to be burned into everyone’s brains it has its grip on me I can’t do this. They are so special……
37 notes · View notes
buildarocketboys · 3 days
Note
53 + peterick lmao
Haha this one was so perfect for them! Fluffy early band ficlet, Pete takes Patrick out on a 4am ice cream date!
53. “Who crawls through someone’s window at 4am to go for ice cream?!”
It's 4am, and Patrick is wide awake.
Not that this is such an unusual occurrence for Patrick. His preferred sleeping schedule lingers somewhere between 3 or 4am and 12 or 1pm. But as a high school student, that's not really sustainable so he's usually at least trying to sleep by this time.
Right now he can't, though. He's thinking about the conversation (argument) he and Pete had earlier. Replaying it over and over in his mind.
Ugh, but Pete just makes him so angry sometimes. They were rehearsing a few of their songs in preparation to record them at Joe's next week. 
And then Pete had wanted to change a lyric.
And another.
And another.
They weren't sensible changes, either. Half the time, Pete seems to want to replace one word with forty. It's ridiculous.
And he's so smug about it too! As if he thinks-knows-that his lyrics are so much better than Patrick's.
The worst part is, Patrick can't help thinking he's right. Patrick knows he's no poet, or wordsmith. His lyrics are juvenile at best. He's all too aware of this, as Pete well knows.
Pete's words are beautiful, poetic, the metaphors winding and flowing through his writing like a river to the sea.
But at least Patrick's lyrics fit the rhythm of the damn song!
After one too many of these changes, Patrick had lost his temper.
He'd yelled, "If you know so much better than me, maybe you should write the fucking lyrics!"
Pete had gone quiet at that. He hadn't talked for the rest of the rehearsal, which they all mutually decided to cut short. Which doesn't bode well for the recording. They all need the practice.
Patrick knows he went too far, but also - he can't see how he's wrong. Pete needs to put up or shut up when it comes to the lyrics - he could at least work with Patrick when it comes to making the lyrics fit. But the man has no sense of rhythm, at least not on purpose. He doesn't seem to see an issue with adding another twenty words to a verse.
He just gives Patrick an infuriating little smile and tells Patrick that he knows Patrick will make it work.
Pete seems to think Patrick is some kind of musical genius. Which is flattering, he guesses. Except he's really not.
Patrick's perseveration is interrupted by a tapping at the window. He jumps, then twists around, pulling the curtain back to reveal Pete's face at the window.
He groans.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" he hisses once he's opened the window.
Pete pouts at him. "Now that's not a very nice way to greet your best friend, is it?"
Patrick grits his teeth. "It's four in the morning!"
Pete shrugs. "So? You're awake, aren't you?" When Patrick continues to glare at him he says, "Also, be quiet - don't wanna wake your mom up."
Patrick rolls his eyes, arms crossed tightly over his chest (only partly to hide his Batman pajamas), then sighs. Relenting, he scrambles back so Pete can climb into his room proper.
"Shut the window," he says, "It's freezing." January in Chicago is no joke.
Pete does so, a grin playing round his lips. It fades when Patrick says, "What are you doing awake at 4am anyway?"
Pete presses his lips together. Instead of answering, he says, "I could ask the same of you."
Patrick stares back at him, stony-faced. He asked first.
Pete sighs, pushing his hair back. "Couldn't stop thinking about earlier," he admits.
Patrick lets out a sigh of relief. "Yeah, me too."
Pete looks up at him, eyes sparkling hopefully. "Thought I could make it up to you."
"Make it up...to me?" Patrick asks. He'd figured Pete was mad at him. Too late he registers Pete's raised eyebrows, and scrambles to correct himself. "How?" he asks, crossing his arms again.
Pete grins, so effortlessly charming that Patrick kind of hates him for it. Patrick could never be so laid back in a million years.
For some reason, Pete likes him anyway. God knows why.
Sometime after they became best friends, Patrick resolved to stop questioning it. Sometimes it's best not to look a gift horse in the mouth.
"I'm taking you out for ice cream," Pete announces.
For a moment, Patrick's not sure he's heard correctly. "Ice cream?" he splutters. "Pete. It's 4am in midwinter in Chicago. We are not going out for ice cream."
"Why not?" says Pete. "You once said that if you could choose one food to eat for the rest of your life, it'd be ice cream."
"Well, yeah, but..." Pete remembers that? How many of the stupid things Patrick says on a daily basis has Pete retained? It doesn't bear thinking about. "Who crawls through someone’s window at 4am to go for ice cream?!"
Pete waggles his eyebrows. "C'mon, Patrick. You know you want to."
Patrick's stomach flip flops in excitement. Pete is always doing shit like this, getting Patrick to step out of his comfort zone, while always, always being there to hold his hand. He pretends to be annoyed, but really he loves it.
"What if my mom finds out?"
Pete shakes his head. "She won't. Just sneak out the window with me. We'll be back before she wakes up."
Patrick moves to the window and looks out dubiously. He's seen Pete do it before - shimmy down the drainpipe and onto the garage roof, before jumping down.
But Pete's athletic. If Patrick tried that, he'd probably break an ankle. Or worse. 
"I think I'll go out the front door," Patrick says. He's pretty sure he can make it without his mom waking up. He's an expert at ninja-ing down the stairs in the middle of the night.
Pete shrugs. "It's your funeral." He heads for the window, obviously planning to return the way he came. "Wait, you do want to come, right?"
"Yeah!" Patrick exclaims - a little too loud and enthusiastic. He cringes, and they both listen for any sound of his mom stirring in the next room. "Yeah," he says. "I just need to put, like, ten layers on."
Pete's got a shit-eating grin on his face now. "Alright. See you on the other side, sport." He punches Patrick's shoulder and has disappeared out the window before Patrick can object to the childish nickname.
Patrick sighs and then starts pulling on clothes at random, grateful for his floordrobe for once, as it means he doesn't have to open his squeaky closet door. He darts down the stairs, ninja-style, and stands at the front door for a full minute, pricking his ears for any sounds from his mom's room. When none come, he slips on his shoes and unlocks the door, closing it softly behind him before half-jogging to Pete's car.
Pete smirks as he slips in. "Impressive," he says.
"Oh shut up." He rubs his hands together as Pete starts the car, waiting for the heaters to warm up. "Where do they serve ice cream at 4am in Chicago in January anyway?" he asks. "It's, like, 20 degrees."
Pete grins as he pulls out of Patrick's driveway and guns the engine. "I know a place."
The place turns out to be a diner on the edge of the city.
When they enter, there's nobody else in the place. No customers, no waitresses, not even anyone behind the counter.
The lights are on but nobody's home, thinks Patrick, then giggles.
Pete glances at him. "What's so funny?"
Patrick shakes his head. "Is this place actually open?" he asks.
Pete nods. "Sure it is. The lights were on, the door was open, right? They're probably just out back, having a smoke. Hey!" Pete calls loudly. No answer. He sighs in frustration. "Just wanted to get my boy some ice cream," he mutters under his breath.
Patrick feels his stomach lurch. Something about Pete calling him his boy does things to him. It's kinda like Pete calling him his boyfriend.
Kinda, but not really, he tells himself firmly, as Pete dings the little old-fashioned bell next to the register.
They hear footsteps coming their way. "Finally!" Pete says, as if they've been there for hours. Patrick rolls his eyes fondly. "Why don't you go pick out which flavors you want?" He nods toward the glass box under which a smorgasbord of ice creams are displayed.
"Woah," Patrick says. He scans the flavors, trying to pick his favorite, wishing he hadn't forgotten his glasses. A waitress arrives behind the counter to serve Pete.
"Hey there, darling, sorry about that. You been waitin' long?" she says to Pete, batting her eyelashes, and suddenly the ice cream is the last thing on Patrick's mind. He watches her flirt with Pete, nails digging into his palms, thinking that is the fakest accent he's ever heard in his life.
Pete seems to fall for it though, much to Patrick's disgust. He grins up at her and says, "Not long, no," in this breathy little voice he uses whenever he flirts with girls. Patrick feels sick, for absolutely no reason whatsoever.
"What can I get ya?" she asks.
"I'll have a coffee," Pete says. "And for my friend here..." he trails off, obviously waiting for Patrick to give his order.
Patrick realizes he's been staring at them, open-mouthed.
He slams his mouth shut as the waitress says, flatly, "Oh. Hey there."
"Pete, I...I don't have any money," he admits. He'd been so focused on getting out of the house undetected, and so excited about sneaking around with Pete in the middle of the night, that it hadn't even occurred to him to bring his wallet.
Pete reaches out and grabs his arm, pulling him close so he can wrap his arm round Patrick's waist. "That's OK, honey. My treat."
The waitress purses her lips. Patrick feels a zing of delight in the vicinity of his stomach, even as he can feel his cheeks burning.
"Uh, are you not having anything?" he asks Pete.
Pete shakes his head. "Just coffee. I'm not hungry."
"I'll just have some vanilla then," says Patrick.
"Aw, no, c'mon Patrick," Pete says, eyes crinkling in disappointment. "I'm taking you out on an ice cream date, you've gotta have at least two flavors."
The waitress looks at him dubiously - 17, chubby, wearing about 15 layers of clothes. Privately, Patrick agrees with her - why would Pete want to take him on a date, of all people? Even a friend date, which he's sure is what Pete means. But he raises his chin and looks her in the eye.
"Um, OK," he says after a moment, when the waitress has looked away. "I'll have, uh..." he glances at the flavors again, and chooses pretty much at random, "Bubblegum and rocky road."
"Good choice,' says the waitress, smiling a little.
"And put those in a cone!" Pete says as she goes to scoop the ice cream. He nudges Patrick. "It's not ice cream if it's not in a cone, right?"
"Do you remember everything I've ever said to you, or just the ice cream-related things?" Patrick teases.
Pete looks at him, deadly serious. "Patrick Stump, I remember every word you've ever said to me."
Patrick rolls his eyes, but he can't help but smile. He takes the ice cream cone the waitress offers him and they go sit in a booth in the corner.
Then he remembers their argument this afternoon. "Even the bad stuff?" he asks, swallowing nervously.
Pete's eyes soften. "Yeah, not that there's much. But I don't hold it against you." He sips his coffee. Patrick's pretty sure he's just being kind - they argue a lot, and Patrick's not always the most objective or logical when his temper gets the better of him. "Besides, you're usually right, anyway."
Patrick snorts. "Am not," he says, because that's definitely not true, and he doesn't need Pete to mollycoddle him.
Pete flashes him a grin. "Yeah y'are. Like this afternoon-"
Patrick sighs. "Can we not talk about that?" He realizes his ice cream has started to drip down the cone and onto his hand, and launches a rescue mission with his tongue. Pete is silent for long moments and Patrick thinks he's dropped it, but when he looks up again he catches Pete watching him.
Pete clears his throat. "You were right," he says. He sounds kinda weird. "I was being annoying, making all those lyric changes."
Patrick sits back in his seat, satisfied that they're finally in agreement. "Yeah, you were."
"But was I wrong? I mean, didn't my changes make the songs better?"
Patrick snorts. "If changing one word to forty makes a song better, sure." Now that he's cooled down, though, he actually thinks about it. "Your words are better than mine," he admits quietly. "They're more poetic, or whatever."
Actually, Pete's words are kind of really fucking beautiful, but he'd never tell Pete that. It's one of the things that annoys him the most when Pete asks to change the lyrics. Not only are they almost always better than Patrick's lyrics, they also make Patrick feel things. Things he's not sure he wants to feel.
"Exactly!" says Pete, then cringes when Patrick scowls at him. "That's not...that's not what I meant," he says quickly. "I love your songs, Patrick. You know that."
Patrick does. Sometimes he thinks Pete's the only one who likes them.
"But you're a musician. I...I get the feeling you don't really care about the words."
Pete picks his words carefully, but Patrick can't help feeling a little offended. Patrick does care. Sure, he cares about all the other stuff - the melody and the rhythm and the harmonies - way more, but it's not like he's not trying! He tries really hard with the lyrics, they just never come out any good!
"It's not that I don't care-" he starts, then sighs.
"But you see what I'm saying?" Pete asks, pressing his advantage.
"Yeah. I guess." Patrick pays attention to his ice cream for a while before he speaks again. "What's the point of this, Pete? I mean, what can we do different?"
Pete's face lights up with a grin. This is clearly the point he's been wanting to get to the whole time. "I write the lyrics. You write the music."
Patrick considers this for a while, his tongue worming its way into the bright blue ice cream. He doesn't miss the way Pete is staring at him, but for now he just lets it happen. Pete isn't like other people - he likes being under his gaze.
"How would that work through?" he says. "If I write the music, we'll still run into the same problem, trying to fit your lyrics to it." In fact, it'll probably be worse, Patrick thinks.
Pete shrugs. "It's just an idea," he says. "I don't know, maybe I could write the words and you could fit the music around them?"
Patrick screws his face up. Nobody does it like that. That's just not how songwriting works.
But.
Sometimes when he looks at Pete's lyrics, he hears the beginning of a melody. Usually he pushes it back, annoyed at the distraction when he's trying to fit them to the tune he's already got.
But what if he let that impulse run free? What would happen then?
"We could try it," Patrick says tentatively.
Pete's face is split with a grin. "Yeah?"
Patrick shrugs. "Yeah. I'm not saying it'll work, mind you. Nobody writes songs like that for a reason."
Pete lets out a breath. "I know. But we're not like everybody else." He claps his hands together, satisfied, breaking the tension between him and Patrick. "We'll do the recording like we were always gonna, with your lyrics. I'll try not to mess with them too much."
Patrick raises an eyebrow.
"But after that, we try this, yeah? It's an experiment. And if it doesn't work, we can go back to you writing the songs."
Patrick nods. "OK," he says, and attacks the rest of his ice cream with gusto, while Pete sips his coffee and watches him openly.
Pete drives him back at 5:30am. His mom gets up at 6. He should be fine.
Patrick's quiet on the drive back. Just thinking.
"You OK?" Pete asks as he pulls up on Patrick's driveway.
Patrick nods, offering him a small smile. "Just thinking," he tells Pete.
Pete nods encouragingly, and Patrick adds, "Do you actually have words to give me? You know, if that's what we're gonna do?"
Pete nods. "Oh yeah." He leans over Patrick and opens the glovebox, pulling out a hardcover notebook. Patrick's seen him writing in it before. "Here you go." He hands it to Patrick.
Patrick takes it reverently in his hands. "Pete... isn't this basically your diary?"
Pete nods, not looking at him. "Technically it's a journal. But yeah." He breathes shallowly. "But I trust you."
The gravity of that trust is not lost on Patrick.
Pete turns around finally to find Patrick staring at him.
"What?" he says, but his cheeks are ruddy. "You're my best friend."
Patrick blinks, his eyelashes fluttering. "Yeah..." he breathes.
Pete leans forward and brushes his thumb over the corner of Patrick's mouth. Patrick's heart stutters in his chest.
Pete's eyes flicker to Patrick's lips, and for a moment, Pete thinks he's going to close the distance between them.
Then he leans back, breathing hard. 
"Might want to wash your face when you get in. Your mouth is blue."
Patrick chokes out a laugh. "Yeah. Will do." He opens the passenger door.
"See you tomorrow?" says Pete hopefully, and Patrick smiles.
"Yeah," he says, squeezing Pete's hand. "Tomorrow."
38 notes · View notes
ayylovley · 19 hours
Note
hiiii i’m the previous anon asking about your request availability ❤️ i want to ask for 4 + 5 + 23 in nsfw prompts for Jake if possible.
thank you!!!!
Ohh aight you got it 4. What their aftercare is like 5. Seeing you naked for the first time 23. They fuck you at a sleep over (tw; somnophilia)
Seeing you naked for the first time
Does this make Jake creepy? He didn’t mean to walk by you changing, but you just so happened to leave the bathroom door a little opened, and when your ass was in view of the corner of his eye, it’s his responsibility to close the door when the other Big Deal members walk by…
A situation where you needed a place to stay for the night and Jake was kind enough to offer. But mostly because he’s always been interested in you.
As you continue to undress and revealing your body to him, even if you didn’t know it, Jake had this feeling that you could be doing it on purpose. It’s working. The sight of your soft breasts, ass, just all of it… He thought that your body would look a lot better if you were underneath him. Or on top, he wouldn’t mind either way. Or just under his touch, his lips…
Once the shower turns on from behind the door, that’s when he walks away from the scene before he was caught watching you. He won’t do anything. He will use all of his restraint to not ravish you in that shower or in the bed you will be sleeping in with him tonight.
They fuck you at a sleepover
Jake lays right next to you as you both lie under the blankets in the same bed. You were both thinking the same thing, despite saying you’re comfortable with the bed with him, this feeling of shyness and nerves kicked in once it was actually happening. You could hear your own heartbeat thumping against your chest, your eyes were still open, staring at the wall of his bedroom.
“Jake…?” Your body shifts upward a little, your voice sounds a little nervous “Are you still awake? I can’t sleep”
You could feel his heavy body move slightly making the mattress creak, “Yeah I’m still awake… but why can’t you sleep? Something’s on your mind? You want to talk about it?” He’s so kind! It just makes your heart thump a little faster. Jake slowly turns around to face his muscular body towards you. You find it difficult not to stare. “Um… it’s just…” Your eyes find their way to his, but neither of you looked away this time. Alone with the guy you were so fond of for as long as you’ve known him, he’s so sweet to you and he’s so handsome with a nice body.. The way he knows how to handle his crew with ease and leadership.
“(Y/N),” Suddenly, Jake scoots his hips closer to you. The silence didn’t last very long, the room was full of a series of little wet smacks from your lips intertwined. As your eyes were closed, you could feel every technique Jake was giving you with his tongue. Wrapping your pink muscles around one another’s felt like fireworks going off through out your body. Next thing you know you’re laying on your back pressed against the cold sheets as you welcome his body weight hovering over you completely.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.”
Jake whispered in the shell of your ear, your face heats up in your cheeks on,y making him chuckle softly. “Shut up.” Your eyes shift away as your eyebrows furrow just slightly as the knuckle of his index finger brushes on your hot cheekbone.
“You’re right, we shouldn’t waste anymore time, right?” He begins stripping himself down, the heat in your face only increased. The peels away his pajama pants that escaped his hips along with the boxers that came with them. “We shouldn’t pretend that we don’t want each other anymore.”
The heartbeat fills his ears from your own chest as you watch him grab onto your top. “Now let’s get these annoying clothes out of the way.”
Minutes later you’re screaming softly underneath him when his cock was filling your core that your walls clench harshly around his shaft. The slow, steady thrusts that gets your toes curl making the pads squeeze, the way his hips move back and forth, and the way he watches you with those eyes, knowing that you’re more than enjoying this. How sweet of him to wait to get himself off just to pleasure you thoroughly first, how your lips he was just devouring hangs open, how you’re whining his name like this.
He can’t take it anymore, his strokes begins to speed up listening to your sounds of pleasure become louder. Your walls invite him deeper letting him get that specific spot, which makes pupils he’s been staring into roll behind your head. The spot that creates the gushiest sound from his thickness.
You could hear Jake moaning above you, his breath tickles your cheeks as he continues to praise you. “Fuck… (Y/N) You feel so fucking good.”
What their aftercare is like
How many times have you two been breaking a sweat? Jake’s stamina was insane, the pain in your inner thighs sent you to whimper with each intense thrust when your aching hole was already worn out. You could feel your body breaking, falling apart from each primal pounding he was giving. “Jake! Jake! Please, I need to come!”
“Shhh, just a little more.”
The sheets underneath you were soaked with sweat and dried semen, evidence of the hardcore hours long affair between you both.
You lay there brain dead and couldn’t move a single muscle as Jake doesn’t fail to be a romanist and peels himself away from his own bed to scoop his strong arms against your back and underneath your knees and lifts you in the air. There’s a faint gasp heard from you, above the ground as you could see how his tattooed muscles flex.
His feet pads on his floor as he takes you to the bathroom, you could the tub filled up with hot water. “I know that I did a number on you… So I’ll take care of you.” Damnit. You tried not to get attached despite having a crush on him. But he makes it so hard… As your body is slowly sinking in the water that feels nice against your aching skin, you can’t help but moan a little.
“Do you want anything? Water? Tea?”
“I’d like some tea. Thank you, Jake.” Your shy smile catches his attention as he went to the doorway to exit the gesture “No problem, (Y/N)…you know…. If you want, we could continue this between us.”
Your eyes light up at his suggestion, honestly, when he brought it up, there’s nothing in the world that you’d want more in this moment. Jake was now everything you could need.
29 notes · View notes
picklebunbun · 2 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
જ⁀➴₊⊹ 🎀 dazai x male! reader
๋࣭ ⭑
velvet ring
big thief ♥︎
⇄ ◁◁ I I ▷▷ ↻
⁰⁰ ²⁵ ━━●━━━━━━━━ ⁰² ⁰⁸
๋࣭ ⭑
⟢ male! reader, can be read as trans or cis, masculine pronouns
⟢ genre: angst, like MAJOR angst, happy ending though, so a bit of fluff
⟢ cw: implied homophobia, verbally fighting, crying, self deprecation, dazai isn’t good at communicating, implied su1cide and maybe OOC
⟢ fandom: BSD
⟢ romantic, dazai and [name] are engaged in this
summary: major fight happened between dazai and his fiancée, about him not outwardly expressing his feelings, [name] feels like he’s walking on eggshells around him. Dazai comforts [name] while he’s bawling his eyes out, everything is okay after that
[angel’s note👼🪽: taking a break from the usual requests because I really wanted to do bsd, sorry, also, this is based off my oc with dazai (I made them have marital problems) I wanted to do very angsty stuff too]
𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒
it was the dead of night, only darkness filled the room, the loud silence of the couple only made the somber attitude worse.
there were days like this were they wouldn’t talk to each other, usually it was after a fight, but not this time. What else could they talk about though? It wasn’t unknown that Dazai could read you like an open book, his intellect was truly terrifying. As for you, it’s hard to talk with your partner when they won’t communicate with you
it often made you sad though, Dazai had no problems talking about himself to his friends, or anyone. The most frustrating part is that he makes light of it whenever you try and talk about it with him. Were things just different when you’re engaged? Maybe he was just on edge because you were both men , but Dazai didn’t seem like the type to care about those things. Maybe it was just you, you did always feel a bit insecure just by being with his fiancée, Dazai was certainly known to be a “playboy”. Being engaged should mean that he ultimately chose you right? I mean, sure, they legally can’t get married but they were basically at that stage
it just made everything so frustrating all the time, how can you expect a healthy relationship without communication?! That’s like a key component of a relationship!
“..hey, [name], are you awake..?”
“….yeah.. I can’t sleep”
“me either.. c’mere for a second”
you looked at him ,confused, until Dazai lazily wrapped his arms around you and you got the idea. The {h/c}-ette hugged him as well, it was pretty easy to tell if Dazai wanted to cuddle. It just felt weird, almost as if he was cuddling with a stranger, or at least that’s what it felt like. Dazai used to say how you had this overwhelming warmth about you, you’re not quite sure if he still thought that now, it was okay I guess, it’s not like you needed the constant praising.
it was a beautiful night though, the last quarter moon illuminated the deepest of shadows in the room, although, it could never hide the amount of darkness around you and Dazai. Even while being wrapped around eachother, you know deep down that you couldn’t feel warmth in this relationship, but little moments like this were nice.
Whenever the moon was half lit, or more specifically, the 3rd quarter moon was when Dazai most liked it , when you asked “why? Why not when it’s fully lit or fully dark?”, Dazai always said the same thing “it’s like how Wednesdays are halfway through the week, the last quarter moon gives me hope for another month, just waiting for a break so I can relax”. Sometimes his messages were so cryptic, you could never really tell if he was going to do something to seriously harm himself or he just says things cause of how meaningful he thinks they are.
Dazai went rambling on about his day at work, you listened, but there was something at the back of your mind. You figured to tell him in the morning, for now, it was time to shut your eyes, there was no point in staying awake now since you could hear the soft snoring that was Dazai’s slumber.
-𖤓°⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
“well, I’m off to work! Bye, my love!”
“wait, Dazai… can I ask you something?”
Dazai turned around, he knew what was about to come, whenever you two fought you set off like a firecracker, completely blinded by how you were feeling, it’s entirely justified too. Usually, Dazai would’ve thought about this in advance, but what could he really say? Expressing himself seriously was not an option, so he’d just have to deal with your red hot anger.
“hm..?”
“do.. you.. hate me?”
“w-what?! Of course not! I could never hate you, I’m engaged to you! How could you think that?”
“you just never talk to me, you talk more to your co-workers than you’re own fiancée!”
“maybe I should get married to them instead them, heh..”
he tried to make a joke, you did not like that
“are you kidding me?! You’re joking about this? Dazai! This isn’t funny! I’m tired of you not talking to me!”
“woah, okay, calm do-“
“HOW THE HELL CAN I CALM DOWN? IT’S LIKE I’M LIVING WITH SOMEONE I DON’T KNOW, YOU DON’T TELL ME ANYTHING!”
“oh, I don’t know [name]! You’re screaming in my face right now, maybe that’s why!”
“THAT’S THE ONLY WAY I CAN BE HEARD BY YOU, DON’T YOU THINK THAT’S A BIT WEIRD, I HAVE TO SCREAM AT MY FIANCÉE BECAUSE HE JUST WON’T LISTEN.”
“YOU NEVER LET ME TALK, YOU JUST TURN IT INTO A BIG ARGUMENT.”
“WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO TALK ABOUT ANYWAYS? YOU NEVER TALK TO ME, I BARELY EVEN KNOW WHAT YOUR FAVORITE DRINK IS, I HAD TO HEAR IT FROM ATSUSHI, ARE YOU KIDDING ME.”
your eyes were getting cloudier by the second, it was frustrating talking to him. Your throat felt like there was a lump of air stuck in the middle, your eyes hurt from the stinging tears that were forming. Your voice was cracking as you felt yourself about to break down
“IS THIS IS WHAT IT’S ALL ABOUT? THE FACT THAT I CAN’T COMMUNICATE?! YOU’VE BEEN GOING FOR MY THROAT FOR THAT?!”
“I-I’VE BEEN TRYING TO TELL YOU FOR MONTHS.. you never listen.”
“well, you ju- woah woah woah, [name]..?”
you broke out into violent sobs, you couldn’t keep on fighting, it was so exhausting just screaming all the time.
“hey, hey, hey, hey, calm down.. why did you suddenly start crying?”
when he asked you, you couldn’t stop weeping even more, everything was just building up and then you just let it all out. You were holding your chest while you cried, it felt like you just got a heart attack, well, at least that’s what it felt like, really, your heart was just shattered like it meant nothing to Dazai. He loved you, your sure he does, but lately it just feels like the more distant he seems, the more distant his loving embrace feels, the more colder it feels when he says “I love you”, like he’s forced to say it.
finally, your teary screams were reduced to nothing more than quiet sniffles, an occasional whimper here and there. You seemed composed enough to form a complete sentence, so Dazai asked you, in the softest tone he has
“why were you crying..?”
“…”
you looked at him, your eyes were wet and so were your cheeks, a red gradient formed around your eyes and nose from wailing so much. You looked around, not wanting to see his face, avoiding any eye contact. The room was so hushed, you could hear the pitter -patter of a bug if you wanted too. It’s no use, he probably wouldn’t leave until you told him.
“.. sometimes I feel like you don’t care about me enough to talk about your feelings, I just wish you would talk to me instead of making jokes, it makes me feel humiliated, like my feelings don’t matter, and then you get mad and argue with me when I don’t know how you feel!”
Dazai stayed silent, not knowing what to say, or even what to think.
“is that it? You’re not going to speak to me?”
silence again
“..okay, I’m just going to get some fresh air..”
the door slammed closed, Dazai was left there to soak in his own feelings. Honestly, the arguments before seemed minuscule compared to this one. He wasn’t a sensitive man, but everything felt so overwhelming, he couldn’t help but feel teardrops staining his cheeks. Dazai always took advantage of the relationship, ignoring your previous arguments, but now if he kept this up, he would lose you, and he’d have no one again.
-𖤓°⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
cricket, cricket, cricket
that’s all you hear at night. At first, Dazai would keep you up with useless conversations about philosophy, to which you lightly punch his elbow, but now it just felt so lonely. Back to back, not looking at each other, laying in bed, you could never face each other after that, you’d have to deal with it tomorrow, but right now, you’re just tired of everything
Tumblr media
24 notes · View notes
sillygoose067 · 3 days
Text
Over The 7 Seas
Ch. 35
Tumblr media
Charles Leclerc x Reader
The flight back to Monaco was just as tiring as the one to LA. This time though, you opted to stay with Charles and relax, utterly drained from your trip. The seats are spacious, with a lot of legroom, and seats that could be extended into pseudo-beds. Doing so, you stretch your tired limbs and snuggle into Charles's chest while he scrolls through the race stats and Twitter posts. Soon enough, he drifts off as well, holding you to his chest, chin resting atop your head, your arms wrapped around him under his sweater. 
Kika and Carlos see this and walk up to take pictures– Kika because it was so cute and she’d send them to you later (or post them with your permission), and Carlos so that he could have some incriminating evidence against Charles in case he ever needed it. 
While the rest of the race crew are dead to the world, you call over the attendant managing the meals and gently shake your boyfriend awake. “Charles, wake up”, you whisper. “We need to eat something, we missed it earlier.”
He mumbles something about wanting to sleep longer, but ultimately rubs his eyes and gains some clarity. 
While you enjoy the meal, you talk in hushed whispers, not wanting to wake the others, but also wanting to keep the conversation private. “Charles… if you’re also okay with it, I think I’m ready to come out to the public about our relationship now.”
He nods in agreement. “Yes, me too, love. Especially because we take so many photos and videos– and the vlog. I think I’m ready to show off my beautiful girlfriend to the rest of the world.”
“I was thinking along the same lines.”
“What, that you wanted to show off your beautiful girlfriend?”
You shove him. “Haha, you’re so funny. No, that we took so many pictures and stuff, and I wanted to post them anyway…”, you shrug. 
He pulls out his phone and kisses your temple while you scrunch your face cutely, taking a photo of the action, and gets to work on his latest post. You take one of you kissing his jaw and one of him looking down at you while you look up at him, hearts in both of your eyes. 
Once done, you show each other your drafts, and save them to post once you land. 
“Y/n?”
“Hm?”
“We’ve been together for three months…”
You squint at him. “Yes, and?”
“I know it’s rather early, and you’re new to this, and I don’t want to ruin things or rush or force you–”
“Get to the point Charles.”
“Um, will you move in with me?”, he asks, his voice increasing in pitch with every word.
Pause. 
“I’m not sure if I heard you correctly. I think you asked me to move in with you?”
“...Yes.”
You bite your lip, trying to hide your excitement. “But won’t that mean you’d have to empty your precious closet space, convert your second guest room into a studio, sleep on one side of the bed, and make room in your bathroom cabinets for my products?”
“Baby, I’m so ready for any of that, all of that with you. You feel like a part of me now. I want to wake up every day with you in my arms. I want to make meals with you. I want to spend my free days lounging around and walking the streets with you. I even want to do your silly little skincare routines with you every night.”
You suppress the urge to climb him and wrap around like a koala. How can a man be this sweet, you think. I’d do almost anything for this man. 
“Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes.”
“Yes!”
You cover his mouth with your hand, shushing him. “The others are still sleeping Charles”, you reprimand him softly. His eyes scrunch up into adorable half-moons as he smiles under your hand. Making sure he won’t be loud again, you remove your hand slowly. He leans in and kisses you, a fervent passion that expresses both of your emotions of happiness and excitement. 
When you part, he speaks again. “Give me a week, love, and I’ll get all the stuff ready for you.”
“Ok. But, um, I’m going to need some help moving my equipment. If that’s possible?”
“Consider it done.”
25 notes · View notes
missywritesfor7 · 2 days
Text
❤️‍🩹Lifeline | MYG❤️‍🩹
Tumblr media
Synopsis: It’s long been controversial for idols to date, but idols dating each other can be really beautiful or a complete nightmare. When Yoongi's relationship with another idol is discovered, he decides maybe it’s time to break the taboo and show people it’s ok for idols to date. Instead, they find themselves caught in the midst of one media frenzy after another and struggle to keep their relationship as strong as it had been the past 2 years. Yoongi finds a self destructive way to cope, and it causes even more problems than it solves. As they fight for their relationship and their careers, they discover that sometimes, the only way to truly be free is to let go.
Pairing: idol!Yoongi x idol!OC
Warnings: nsfw, alcoholism, cheating, depression, anxiety, Yoongi goes through a bisexy ho phase, Yoongi is also in his alcoholic phase, post-military BTS
Previous chapter | Next chapter | Masterlist
Ch. 19: Your Letter
Yoongi needed a longer session with Minho the next day. He barely slept so all of his feelings of hurt and sadness continued to grow throughout the night. By morning he was a puffy red eyed mess wishing for something to drink again.
The session was rough and involved many tears and realizations. Yoongi learned a lot of things about himself that he didn’t quite realize before. That unleashed more emotions because now he feels like he doesn’t even know himself anymore. It was the roughest session he’s had so far.
The session ended with homework for Yoongi, which is typical. Minho always gives Yoongi homework after each session. This time his homework is to read a few things about codependency that Minho sent him. The more Yoongi read, the more he got upset. He fit the description, but he wants so bad to not. It just adds another thing to his list of issues.
Regardless of his denial, he knows one thing. He needs to apologize to Hyeri. He may not be ready to accept that he’s codependent, but he’s willing to admit that he shouldn’t have acted the way he did with her. He should have believed her when she said she was fine and he definitely shouldn’t have made her feel like a helpless baby. It wasn’t his intention at all and he’s been feeling like shit ever since he came to the realization that he was in the wrong. On top of that, Hyeri’s birthday is in just three days and the last thing he wants is for her to hate him on her birthday.
He starts to type out a message but then stops midway through. He can’t text her an apology. As ashamed as he is to speak to her again, he knows a text message would be too impersonal and seem lazy. So he calls her.
The phone rings once and he hangs up.
He curses himself then calls again. This time taking a deep breath and for whatever reason hoping she doesn’t answer because he’s starting to realize he’s much too nervous to talk to her.
“Hey,” Hyeri’s voice softly rings through the phone.
“Hey,” he says with a shaky voice. “How did you sleep?” He asks suddenly going blank on what to say. “No, I mean, have you had breakfast? It’s ok if you haven’t. I mean I think you should have something for breakfast, but you don’t have to.”
“Is there a reason why you called?” She asks hoarsely. She hasn’t yet gotten out of bed and aside from that she had been crying all night, so she’s not actually in the mood to talk. Still she couldn’t stop herself from answering when his name popped up on her phone.
“No. I mean yeah, I just…” he pauses to take a deep breath and pull himself together. “I wanted to apologize for last night. I wasn’t trying to make you feel like a baby or anything. I was being…I don’t know…”
“Overbearing and suffocating,” she says finishing his sentence.
“Right,” he sighs. “I’m sorry, Hyeri. Truth is, I talked to Minho today and now I feel all fucked up and confused because he told me things about myself I never realized and I’m starting to wonder if I ever even knew myself in the first place.”
“Told you things like what?”
“That I’m…I just…he said a lot and I’m working through it all. I just wanted to apologize because I love you and I don’t want you to hate me for being a helicopter parent.”
“I don’t hate you, Yoongi. I never could. I just want you to know how frustrating it is for me. It’s like you’re focused too much on taking care of my every want and need, but you don’t focus enough on yourself. You ignore everything going on with you and devote your every moment to catering to me when I don’t need it and at times I don’t want it. I’m just tired. You’ve put me through a lot, Yoongi.”
“I’m sorry,” he says through the knot in his throat. “You’re right and I guess I’m finally starting to see that. I can’t get anything right when it comes to you.” He pauses realizing he’s saying just the thing Minho was telling him about earlier. “I’m sorry. I’m trying, I mean it,” he pleads. “It’s hard. So hard. I’m working on being better. I swear when I leave here I’ll be a much better person. I’ll be clean, I won’t lie or cheat or get back into drinking all of the time.”
“I know,” she says. “I know you’re trying to work on it, but you still have a long way to go. I’m trying my best to be patient but you have to know last night it was just too much on top of a day that was already stressful.”
“I know and I’m so sorry for that. I shouldn’t have acted the way I did. I’m really trying, Hyeri. I want to be so much better for you.”
“I know,” she sighs hating what she’s about to say. “I think maybe it was a bad idea for us to start talking on the phone. It was probably a bad idea for us to even text. I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but I think maybe we shouldn’t talk for a bit. At least until you’re able to find some mental stability.” She instantly regrets her words, but she can’t take them back. She knows he shouldn’t have been able to talk to her from the start because it could hinder his recovery, and it seems like it has.
“You don’t want to talk to me?” He asks feeling his heart drop to the floor.
“That’s not what I’m saying,” she insists. “I’m a distraction to you. Even if you don’t want to admit it, it’s true. You aren’t focused on yourself because you’re focused on me. If you don’t get better what would happen to us?” She chokes back tears at the thought of being without him.
Yoongi is silent knowing that she has a point, but not wanting to admit it. It feels like she’s trying to break up with him and he’s not sure he can take that.
“Babe,” she says in a reassuring tone. “I’m not going anywhere. I can take care of me, so you take care of you.”
“So…can we still text?” He asks feeling like his single source of mental and emotional relief outside of alcohol is leaving him.
“You can text me all you want. I just can’t guarantee that I’ll respond. Just…so you can remain focused. But I’ll always read your messages. I promise.”
“You wouldn’t miss me?” He asks searching for reassurance.
“I always miss you when you’re not here. That’s not what I’m saying. It’s just that…maybe I have an audition for that very big role that JJS tried to stop me from going for and I need to concentrate on that right now. Just like you need to concentrate on your health.”
“You have an audition? That’s great!” He says suddenly proud and almost as if she didn’t just suggest they not talk for a while.
“Yeah,” she responds softly. “I need to focus on that and focus on my own healing, you know? I haven’t really been able to since you’ve been home and it’s starting to catch up to me. So please use this time to take care of yourself.”
“Right,” he sighs. “Take care of yourself too. I mean…you already do so I guess I don’t need to tell you that…”
“It’s ok. I love you, Yoongi.”
“I love you too, Na Hyeri. I…I hate this, but I know you’re right. I love you so much, please wait for me I promise I’ll make it all up to you.”
“I’ll be here, babe,” she says. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Yeah,” he says softly. The call ends and he simply lays in place in the bed.
His heart hurts. It hurts a lot. But he knows she hurts too, and she deserves time to heal from everything he’s put her through.
That now leaves him alone with nothing but his thoughts. That’s a hard thing for him to deal with so he looks for a distraction. He goes to his keyboard and begins playing a few notes. Then a few chords. Suddenly he’s playing a melody off the top of his head, though it sounds like something he’s already long since written and perfected. It’s not, though. It’s just him freestyling fueled by the thoughts swirling around in his head.
After a minute he decides to set up his phone to record himself. He does it often when he wants to remember something he’s playing. He hits record and continues playing and playing.
Since Yoongi had left for treatment, the rest of the guys have been working on their own projects. Namjoon and Hobi both have taken on a number of things that have been keeping them busy. Jungkook and Jimin have worked on a few features, but spend most of their time on live with Army. Especially Jungkook. Taehyung has been taking over the fashion world. And Jin has remained mostly low key other than popping in on a couple of variety shows. However, for one day Yoongi asked a favor of them if they could.
Operation: Hyeri’s birthday.
It didn’t take long for Yoongi to think of a way to both apologize to Hyeri and give her the grandest birthday he can given the circumstances. He started by quickly polishing the song he had begun playing on his keyboard. He recorded a final video of himself playing it. It’s a song dedicated to her.
After writing the song, he went searching online for someone who could have 3 grand bouquets of flowers delivered to her on her birthday. Then he got the idea to make it a surprise. He ordered flowers, candy, jewelry, a few pairs of shoes, a massive Shooky plush, and a designer purse all to be delivered in 3 days.
He didnt stop there. He wants the surprise to be big and meaningful. He needs help though, so he reached out to his brothers to assist. Jungkook and Taehyung are both in different parts of the world so they aren’t able to help, but the rest of the guys agreed to carry out Yoongi’s operation.
Namjoon will be in charge of getting Hyeri out of the house. She has a schedule the morning of her birthday, that will keep her out for a while, but after that Namjoon asked if he could treat her to a birthday lunch. That will keep her away longer to ensure Jin, Hobi, and Jimin have plenty of time to set up the apartment with all of the gifts being delivered.
Yoongi has lots of free time, so getting all of these things setup was quick and easy. Once he had everything set he worked on the most important thing. What to say to her.
He knows she mentioned they should stop talking so he doesn’t expect that she’d answer the phone if he called. So he has no other option other than to write her a letter. He could send her a text, but he wasn’t sure that was the way he wanted to do this.
During his session with Minho the following day, Yoongi told him everything he was planning. Of course he first had to talk about the conversation he had with her and how it hurt a bit, but that’s why he’s so determined to make this perfect. Minho helped brainstorm ideas and in the end Yoongi decided he would hand write a letter to her on his tablet and send it to her that way.
Hyeri woke up the morning of her birthday almost forgetting that it was even her birthday. If it wasn’t for her birthday lunch with Namjoon, she would have just figured this day were like any other. She has breakfast, studies the script for her audition a bit, then heads out when her new manager arrives to take her to her first appointment of the day.
As soon as she’s gone, Jin, Hobi, and Jimin get right to work. They brought extra decorations for added impact, though Yoongi may not be fully aware. They have balloons, ribbons, and confetti that they put in every area of the place. They accepted every delivery that came and made sure to display everything clearly so Hyeri can see as soon as she walks inside. They took pictures of everything and sent them to Yoongi for his approval. When all was perfect they left, leaving Hyeri’s surprise waiting for her.
Yoongi waited for the signal. The message from Namjoon saying they finished lunch and Hyeri should be on her way home. That’s when Yoongi sent the letter he had written to her.
Hyeri knows she told Yoongi she may not respond to his messages, but she said she would always read them. She thought by saying that he would at least send her something, but he hasn’t. She hasn’t heard from him since they last spoke on the phone, until now. She lit up when she saw his name pop up on her phone. She couldn’t even make it to the elevator to get up to their floor, she had to read it right away.
The moment she saw that it was a handwritten note, she knew it was something sincere. Yoongi doesn’t always do handwritten letters. She leaned against the wall near the elevators not bothering to press the button. She’s only concerned with what Yoongi’s letter says.
My Na Hyeri,
Happy birthday my love! I wish I could be with you to celebrate, but since I can’t I hope this is enough. There aren’t enough words in the universe to describe what you mean to me.
From the moment I met you, I knew that you were special. Your smile, your laugh, your personality...everything about you just makes me feel like the luckiest person in the world. Spending time with you always brings me peace and happiness, and I’m grateful for every moment we’ve had together.
I am so sorry for putting you through so much pain and heartache. I know that you deserve so much better than that. I’m working hard to become a better person, not just for you but for myself as well.
I know that the past year has been challenging for us, but I believe that our love is strong enough to endure anything that comes our way. I promise to work on myself and our relationship every day, so that we can continue to grow together.
I want you to know that you are the light of my life, and I will always do everything in my power to make you happy. I hope that you can feel my love for you at all times no matter how far apart we are.
I promise I will spend the rest of my life making up for all of my mistakes and showing you how much you mean to me. I love you with all of my heart, and I can’t wait to hold you in my arms again.
Forever mine. Forever yours.
Yoongi
Hyeri can hardly even read the last few lines of his letter through her tears. Her heart hurts but feels so full at the same time. She takes a second to pull herself together and takes the elevator up. When she steps into the front door the tears start falling again.
She’s immediately greeted by one large bouquet of fall flowers. When she looks up she sees ribbons strung across the ceiling along with many balloons, some heart shaped. She walks further inside and is greeted by a second bouquet, bigger than the first, sitting on the coffee table in the living room surrounded by more confetti, a bottle of her favorite wine, and a small jewelry box. Inside is a silver cuff bracelet covered in diamonds with a matching pair of earrings.
From there she goes into the bedroom where she finds Shooky presenting her with the third bouquet and a gorgeous purse and shoes that are perfectly her style. At this point shes shed enough tears to fill a pool. All of these gifts that he somehow has set up for her plus the heartfelt letter he sent her has her feeling more loved than she ever has in her life. He’s put her through a lot, but he’s so good to her.
She takes a picture of herself hugging Shooky and sends it to him thanking him for everything. She tells him that he’s made this one of her best birthdays ever and she loves him so much. He quickly responds with the video of him playing the song he had written for her. He simply titled it “Rainbow”. There are no words, just him caressing the keys into a gentle melody.
Hyeri closes her eyes as she listens and smiles at how beautiful the music feels gliding into her ears and radiating a soft weightlessness throughout her entire body. He’s played her many songs before, but none like this. None made specifically for her.
Yoongi didn’t expect Hyeri to respond, but he was so happy that she did. He’s even happier looking at the photo of her hugging Shooky the way he wishes he could hold her. The smile on her face and evident tears in her eyes lets him know his surprise was a success.
It’s more than a success. Hyeri is in tears at Yoongi’s surprise. She misses him so much it makes this moment of happiness and admiration a little bittersweet. She can only hope that next year she won’t have to spend the day away from him.
17 notes · View notes
galedekkarios · 2 months
Text
i think that gale would be bad at dating in a modern au not because he's a bad partner or has no rizz but just because situationships and talking stages and "you took ten minutes to reply so i'm gonna take twenty minutes" kind of mind games all make him want to kill himself. so he just yearns and aches all on his lonesome writing notes app poetry about a lover he hasn't met yet while waiting for someone more like him to drop out of the sky.
i also think that, given the stories he tells the player, that he was a fucking disaster floozy in his youth. mr you're not my first and i assure you i do fuck + everyone wanted my hand + my munch game crazy + one can't always be a gentleman + i have a million stories where realistically i should not have fucking survived but i did bc i'm #different + 10 step beauty routine and certified spa goer + if i wanted something, i went and got it + reads smut/sex books, was a certified hot girl. and now he's a divorced malewife suffering from third degree yearns. this is real and true
275 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
...because any moment may be our last. everything is more beautiful because we're doomed.
#looking through my drafts and seeing this post unfinished and knowing in my core I'll probably never actually finish it .#but strangley enough i don't hate the way it looks with only those 2 panels ? beauty in simplicity or something idk#woe unfinished post be upon ye#honestly probably wouldnt even bother posting it were it not for the fact i was hit by a sudden wave of sadness#by being reminded out of the blue that alex really does just . lose nigel that night#enough deep level analysis my brain is all out i think . but just the simple fact that nigel dies that night#and alex has to go on for the rest of his life post-ending carrying that grief and loss with him#i know we talk about how nigel isn't truly 'gone' in the sense that they're one now and jack is supposed to be an amalgamation of the two#a product of their union and 'consummation' that night at the yard#but he's still gone . no matter how much alex might try and follow in nigel's footsteps#no matter how hard alex tries to tread that same path nigel did to feel close to him#he's gone . they will never have that moment beneath the house ever again . and alex has to go on living with that#anyway . normal again . imagine dropping a song rec like i used to. aha . go listen to sick like me by in this moment.#like minds#murderous intent#nigel colbie#alex forbes#nigel colbie x alex forbes#edit : THEY'LL NEVER HAVE THE MOMENT UNDER THE HOUSE AGAIN !!!!!#thinking about the moment where nigel sits across from alex after he shoots john#and the contrast to the scene in the crawlspace . nigel is trying to connect he is trying to get alex to see to understand#but now alex is closed off. something may be irreparable broken between them#do you think it was the moment where nigel starts to despair . to plead . realise that he needs to find a way to make alex truly see#i need to get some sleep
25 notes · View notes
fairyhaos · 1 month
Text
❖ no such thing as too perfect // jeon wonwoo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
wonwoo x gn!reader, 2k+ words
tags: office au, established relationship, fluff, kinda crack, junhui is the best work bestieTM ever, yn is Dramatic and In Love
warnings: none
notes: this was only meant to be like, 1.2k.... idk what happened but im not apologising. also there are a couple of pov switches which i hope make sense!!
Tumblr media
“I think I need to break up with him,” you say, and Junhui blinks around a mouthful of salad. 
“Who?” he asks, spraying pieces of feta cheese all over the table, and you wrinkle your nose and brush away a few bits that get too close to you and your bento box. He frowns, and then his eyes widen. “Oh my god, you need to break up with Jeon Wonwoo? Why do you need to break up with Jeon Wonwoo?”
You wince as Junhui's loud exclamation rings throughout the office canteen, making several heads turn to look at the two of you. 
“Don't yell it so loud—and why are you saying his name in italics?”
“Because this is Jeon Wonwoo,” Junhui emphasises again, shoving salad passionately into his mouth before carrying on talking. “He's the only one of your boyfriends that I've actually ever approved of. Which is crazy, because Soonyoung introduced him to you, and I've never pinned Soonyoung as a guy that knows boyfriend-material guys.”
You reach over and lower Junhui’s fork, preventing him from eating and talking at the same time. “I don't know,” you sigh. “I just… I don't think this is going to work.”
“What did he do?” Junhui asks. His face morphs into a more serious look. “Do I need to murder him for you?”
“No, I— no! Don't murder him!” you say quickly, shaking your head. “He hasn't done anything wrong. It's just. I think I need to break up with him.”
The grave look melts from Junhui's face, and then he frowns. “You need to break up with him… even though he hasn't done anything wrong?”
“Yes.”
Junhui stares at you, mystified, then snatches back his fork to keep eating his salad. “Okay, so you've gone insane. Nice to know.”
You sigh at Junhui's response, rubbing your temples. 
Whilst it does sound insane for you to break up with Wonwoo even though he's done nothing wrong, in your eyes, it's actually quite understandable. 
Nothing has gone wrong, per se: you've been dating Wonwoo for about ten months now, and everything has been perfect. He's been perfect. 
Maybe… a little too perfect. 
He's always being so gentle and courteous, silently reading your emotions and knowing exactly how you're feeling at any given moment. He knows what you need before you even know that you need it—giving you little cheek kisses to remind you that you're loved, pushing a chocolate bar into your hand when you're all dizzy and tired, hugging you to sleep when you've had a bad day. 
The bento box that you're opening and having for lunch? That was prepared by him too. 
Jeon Wonwoo is just so goddamn perfect, and it worries you. 
“I don't think I'm good enough for him,” you admit whilst Junhui is busily sipping his water. 
It's fascinating how he manages to eat so frantically whilst eating so slowly at the same time, you think idly, as Junhui chokes on the tiny sip he was taking. He sets down the glass, wiping his mouth and blinking at you. 
“Sorry, what?”
“Come on, Junhui, do I really have to say it again?” you complain, beginning to open your bento box. “You heard me.”
“Yeah, and I couldn't believe my ears,” he says, tilting his head sideways. “You? Not good enough for him? Please. That's crazy.”
You make a questioning noise. “You just said that he's the only boyfriend of mine that you approved of.”
“Exactly.” Junhui stabbed his fork in your direction, before going back to shovelling leaves into his mouth. “You're perfect for him, and he's perfect for you. I predicted it from the moment you met.”
“I don't know about me being perfect for him, but he really is just too perfect for me,” you whine. “Him and his stupidly warm eyes and that smile… oh, Junhui, he makes me feel like the most beautiful person in this entire universe.” You look down at your bento box, pouting. “Wonwoo's just so perfect.”
Junhui makes a face. “Gross, but okay. I still don't see your point, though. Wonwoo's perfect, and you're both good enough for each other. I don't see why you think you need to break up with him.”
Still looking down at the bento box, you let out a sigh. All of the food is neatly packed away into the separate compartments, and he's even arranged the sesame seeds on your rice into a little heart. It's an awfully goofy but also an awfully Wonwoo thing to do, and you can feel your heart squeezing painfully in your chest, the longer you stare at it. 
This is not good. You are far too in love with Wonwoo. 
That's what you tell Junhui, and he stares at you with utter disbelief as if you've finally admitted that you really have lost your mind. 
“And what makes you think that he's not far too in love with you?” Junhui asks. “You know, one of the reasons that I approve of Wonwoo is because he's just so so in love with you. Like, almost disgustingly in love with you.”
“What?” You blink at him, before shaking your head. “Junhui, no, this is serious. Wonwoo's just so perfect and I'm so in love with him and—and it's actually getting dangerous now. I've literally fallen in love with him.”
Junhui stares at you for a long moment, wondering whether you're actually being serious about all of this. 
“That's not a bad thing,” he insists, and then chomps on his salad in frustration. “Y/N, that's not a bad thing at all.”
“Yes it is,” you say, despairingly, looking forlorn as you prop your chin on your hand. “I love him too much. It's gonna—it's gonna get too overwhelming, soon, and then he'll start thinking I'm weird, and he'll distance himself from me, and then we'll break up and I should end this before that happens.”
Junhui shakes his head. “I don't think that's true.”
“Yes it is.”
“No it isn't. He won't break up with you.”
“Not yet.”
Junhui looks away exasperatedly, because you're adamant in wallowing in your despair over having to break up with Wonwoo because “he's too perfect” even while quite happily eating the lunch that Junhui knows Wonwoo probably prepared for you. 
It's insane, he thinks, because it's obvious to him that Wonwoo loves you a lot. But he knows you and your negative thinking, and short of Wonwoo walking in here and professing his love to you all by himself, Junhui can't think of anything that could possibly convince you otherwise. 
As he looks past your shoulder to the glass doors of the office canteen, however, he blinks. 
There's a tall man entering the canteen, his dark hair all fluffy and his glasses-rimmed eyes scanning the area, lips pursed into a look that could almost be described as bored. He has his hands in his coat pockets, wearing the most simple casual fit ever, but he exudes such cold model energy that even Junhui blinks again. 
And then he watches as the man catches sight of you and Junhui, and his entire demeanour just softens. 
Junhui bites back a grin. 
Wow. Maybe he’s, like, actually psychic. 
“Wonwoo's here,” he says abruptly, and your head snaps up so fast that he can hear the audible click that sounds in your neck. 
“Where?” 
Junhui doesn't get to say anything, however, because he sees the moment that your eyes clock the tall man that's striding into the canteen, the light catching the frames of his glasses, and watches as you positively melt, in much the same way that the man had done when he saw you. 
He can almost hear every infatuated thought that runs through your mind. 
“Wonwoo,” you breathe, once Wonwoo steps close enough to the table that you and Junhui are eating at. His hair is all fluffy and windswept, and you resist the urge to smooth it down with your fingers. 
“Hello.” Wonwoo bends down, presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “You weren't answering your phone.”
“Hm? I didn't get any text notifs from you.” You check your phone, trying to turn it on, only for the screen to remain black. “Oh. Is it dead?”
“I suspected as much,” Wonwoo says dryly, but there's a fondness in his voice as he pulls out a power bank from his pocket. “Here.”
Your eyes light up. “Oh, you're a life saver!” You look up at Wonwoo, smiling at the way his eyes look so warm as he gazes down at you. “Thank you.”
Junhui slurps his water loudly. 
“Sorry,” he says, sounding not sorry at all when the two of you look over at him. “Don't mind me.”
He's grinning mischievously, for reasons that you cannot fathom, and when he leans forward to peer up at Wonwoo with curious eyes, the mischief in his grin only increases. 
“So, Wonwoo, why are you here?”
Wonwoo tilts his head, pushing his glasses up at the same time. “You're Junhui.”
“The one and only,” Junhui says brightly. “I'm Y/N's work bestie. I've heard loads about you.”
You hiss in annoyance, kicking Junhui under the table even as Wonwoo laughs amusedly, placing a hand on your shoulder affectionately. 
“Wen Junhui! Why would you say that?”
“Do you talk about me that often?” Wonwoo asks, and his tone is somewhere between genuinely curious and adoring and you kind of just wanna sit there and listen to his voice forever. 
“Oh, all the time,” Junhui says, eyes gleaming, and you snap your gaze back to him, exasperated. “Y/N loves you so much. I hear about the extent of it every day.”
Wonwoo looks down at you, raising an eyebrow. “Really?”
You kind of want to deny it, but then that would mean lying to Wonwoo, so you don't. 
“Maybe?” you say weakly, cheeks burning as you smile sheepishly up at him. “You're just, uh. Really really lovely. And, um, I kind of love you. A lot.”
Wonwoo laughs, a full and endeared laugh, twinkling with the light of a thousand suns. “I'm glad. Because you're really lovely, and I love you a lot too.”
Your eyes widen, and suddenly it's like it's just you and Wonwoo in the canteen now, him with his hand on your shoulder and those eyes, holding your very soul in place as he just smiles so lovingly and oh God you really do love him. 
“Oh,” you say, soft. “Wonwoo…”
Wonwoo just smiles again. “Anyways, I came by to let you know that I'll be finishing work a bit earlier today, so call me when you're done and I'll drive by to pick you up, okay?”
You nod, mute, stunned by the gentlest words of “I love you” that had left Wonwoo's mouth just seconds before. 
“It was nice meeting you,” Junhui chirps, but Wonwoo doesn't seem to hear, because he's looking down at you again, before swooping in and placing the lightest kiss on your nose and you feel like you could combust on the spot right there. 
“I'll see you later?” he says. 
You nod. “I'll see you later.”
Wonwoo smiles, and then the hand slides off your shoulder and he walks away. 
You watch him go, watch him walk through the tables and then get to the glass doors, where he turns around one last time to wave goodbye before disappearing outside, and really, it's insane how much you love him. 
And how much he loves you, it seems. 
“So. He took time out of his own lunch break and came all the way here to give you a charger because he knew that you'd forgotten one and to tell you that he's picking you up later?” Junhui says, making you reluctantly turn back to him. “Y/N. If this doesn’t make you see just how in love with you Wonwoo is, then I’m gonna kick you.”
“Hey, no need for violence,” you say, raising an eyebrow, and Junhui pulls a face. 
“So do you see it or do you not?”
You look over your shoulder again, out at the doors. Wonwoo’s no longer there, but you can still imagine the imprint of his warmth, lingering like the softest lavender scent over the entire area. 
“Maybe I do,” you say, all wistful and dazed, a smile on your face. “Isn’t he just so perfect?”
Junhui grins, and makes use of your distracted state to steal a carrot stick from your lunch, crunching on it loudly.
“Perfect and in love with you,” he points out. “So do you still feel like you need to break up with him?”
“Hm?”
You blink, eyes still all starry from your few minutes of interacting with your boyfriend, his soft smile etched into your mind. It takes a moment for Junhui's words to register, but then they do, and you can't help but laugh. 
“Oh. Oh, no. He and I are perfect.”
Junhui grins. He really is a psychic. 
Tumblr media
fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @thedensworld @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @sakufilms @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @amxlia-stars @raevyng @isabellah29 @hrts4hanniehae @mcu-incorrect
2K notes · View notes
kamiversee · 28 days
Text
Sukuna’s Fuck Buddy ꨄ
Tumblr media
[ { Synopsis } ] ➤ You agree to be friends with benefits with Sukuna, not exactly expecting to get ruined in different ways every week.
[ { Need to know } ] ➤ This is a What-If scenario that stems from my fic; The F*ck List— A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt.
[ { Content & Warning } ] ➤ f!reader, dirty talk, tw; spitting, degrading, manhandling, pet names, fingering, unprotected sex, language, brief/slight exhibitionism, & Sukuna has a filthy mouth.
[ { Paring } ] ➤ Sukuna x f!reader.
[ { Word Count } ] ➤ 4.2k
Tumblr media
"A whore," Sukuna commented, clearly joking but his words had made you uneasy.
It was oddly specific. You hadn't thought much of it when he called you a whore the night prior, since, y'know, you liked being degraded. But, something about that being his assumption for your occupation was a crazy coincidence.
Especially considering how hellbent Gojo always is on telling you not to call yourself that. The more you thought about it...
Gojo got upset at something from Sukuna's party, he didn't want you to call yourself a whore all of a sudden, Sukuna seems to have believed that was your actual job, and you remember how pissed Gojo seemed as he thought about you sleeping with Sukuna-
Holy fuck. Are the two connected somehow? Is something going on? What does Gojo owe Sukuna? Does Sukuna know you only slept with him as payment to clear Gojo's debt? Is-
A finger had poked your forehead and you blinked out of your thoughts.
Sukuna was chuckling, "I was joking, woman. Calm down." He uttered, "I actually thought you worked at one of those beauty stores."
You raised a brow, still feeling uneasy with the man. "Beauty stores?"
"Sephora, Ulta," He shrugged, "Wherever the fuck. I pictured you being one of those cute little cashiers."
"Is that supposed to be a compliment...?" You murmured.
"Or working at McDonald's, I don't know, I didn't think too hard on it-- jus' wanted to fuck you," Sukuna admitted honestly.
Your expression drops, "Oh..."
His hand had gone to your chin and he tipped your face up, "Do you want me to want something more from you?"
His gaze was intense like always, causing chills to slip down your back. You shook your head, "I mean, no... I only wanted you to fuck me."
"We could keep doing this," Sukuna suggested with a shrug, "Make' it a weekly thing."
You batted your eyelashes at him a few times in thought. At the time, things definitely would've gone differently had you not answered his request but... Somewhere deep down inside, you wanted to make it a weekly thing.
"Really?" You had asked the man, taking him by slight surprise.
Sukuna had wholeheartedly expected you to disregard his suggestion to you but, you didn't. "Yes, really," He replied before stepping closer to his bedside where you were seated and leaning toward you, "Let's fuck every week."
You stared at him with wide eyes for a long moment, contemplating numerous things in your head. Technically, you should've said no. You should've moved on from the topic, y'know, brushed his offer off entirely.
Yet there you were, steadily nodding your head in agreement before uttering a simple, "Okay."
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Which takes you to right now, a few weeks after said agreement where you find yourself in the backseat of one of Sukuna's cars, your legs sprawled out over his as you sit prettily in his lap.
Since agreeing to be friends with benefits with Sukuna, you and him have met up once a week, sometimes twice, just to fuck each other.
In Sukuna's right hand was his cell phone, the device up at his ear as he conversed with someone as if his free hand wasn't occupied with toying with your dripping cunt-- thick fingers fucking so deep into you and curling just right against your slick walls.
Your back was against his firm chest, lips parted with heavy pants and soft moans spilling from your throat as the lewd sound of Sukuna finger fucking you filled his vehicle.
Trying so hard not to be loud in courtesy of whoever he was on the phone with, you bit your lower lip, “Mmmh… Sukuna…” You mewl out gently.
He’s been at it for a while and you could even feel how hard his cock was against your ass, his tip leaking and member twitching beneath the fabric of his sweats every time you squirmed.
Sukuna sighs heavily and pulls the phone away from his mouth only to bring his lips to your ear, “Shut the fuck up. If she hears you, I’ll stop…” Pausing mid-sentence as your cunt squeezes tighter around his fingers, he smirks, “Slut.”
“P-Please… hah… don’t stop,” Your voice was filled with pure and utter need, just as he liked.
Sukuna angles his head down a bit, planting a soft and all too teasing kiss below your ear, his breath tickling your neck, “Then shut up.”
You’re nodding, closing your mouth, and swallowing down your own moans as he purposefully shoves his fingers into you at a rougher pace.
In and out and in and out, your pussy was gushing around his fingers— mouth opening and jaw dropping every now and then as he hit all the right spots.
“Fuck,” You curse under your breath as your torso leans forward and you shoot a hand down to grab his wrist.
Sukuna’s speaking to whoever he has on the phone but you only register a few words every now and then. “Mhmmmm,” He hummed and you swore that was directed toward you as your eyes flickered back— he knew you were close.
Sukuna’s fingers slid almost all the way out of your hole just to tease you, his fingertips slipping up to flick over your clit. A breathy moan leaves your lips as he rubs your clit aggressively, drawing circles over the bud and making your legs draw together.
“M’gonna cum,” You whine out quietly, struggling to keep your noises in.
He wanted to make things harder for you so he smirks, “Yeah?” Sukuna taunted, “Gonna’ make a mess? Hm?”
Your head just barely angled back to look at him, seeing that he didn’t bother to move the phone away or mute it so whoever he was talking to heard everything he just said. This overwhelming feeling of embarrassment and arousal shoots throughout your body and your face twists up in pleasure as Sukuna sinks his fingers back into you.
“No, not you,” He spat to whoever he was talking to on call, smirking at you afterward, “I told you I was busy when we first got on the phone…”
Your hips jerked forward a bit as you unintentionally moved to ride his fingers, panting and maintaining eye contact with the man. He nearly felt like he was getting high off of merely watching you grow so stupidly drunk in lust. 
“S’kuna…” You mumbled.
His cock ached in his sweats and he nodded, “Mhm, yeah, y’know what, I’ll call you back— I have a needy whore to take care of.”
You turned your head to face forward as he said that, once again feeling embarrassed and even squeezing your legs together a bit. The sound of Sukuna scoffing is heard and then his phone is, quite literally, tossed somewhere else.
He shifts and his now free hand goes to your hip as his other kneads into your pussy, making you dizzy in satisfaction as you continue trying to keep quiet.
“Look at you…” Sukuna taunts, “You’re about to cum, aren’t you?”
You nod stupidly, feeling the knot in your core build as your orgasm approaches, “Y-Yeah… fuck, please.”
“Hm? Please what?” He scoffs, as if he hadn’t had a tendency to strip you of your climax multiple times.
“Hah… Let me cum, p-please Sukuna,” Your voice was a needy but quiet whine and he bit his lower lip once he acknowledged you were still following his orders of being quiet.
Sukuna snickers, “Uhuh, I will,” He hums, “Jus’ keep squeezin’ around my fingers,” He leans forward so he could speak into your ear, low and rasped voice driving you over the edge, “Yeahhhh, like that— Fuckin’ whore.”
Your jaw drops and your mouth forms an immediate O shape as your eyes flicker, back arching, and whimper escaping your throat— you cum hard while still trying to be quiet, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as you do so.
There’s a slick sound of Sukuna still toying with your cunt as you come undone and then he sits back, parting his legs a bit as you readjust into his lap and his fingers slip out of you.
Sukuna coos, “See? Was that so hard? Now here,” He moves one hand to your throat, forcing your back to be against his chest as his other hand goes to your lips, “Clean yourself off my fingers, messy girl.”
His digits that’d just been inside you prod at your lips, tapping your lower one before you part them and Sukuna pushes his fingers in. He was such a nasty man, forcing you to taste yourself and clean your slick off his fingers— you couldn’t stand him sometimes.
Not to mention how he teases you as he does so, “Taste good, right?” Sukuna asked.
You whirl your tongue around his fingers and then pull off them with a hard and firm suck, a slight pop emitting from the action, “Mhm…”
“Good,” Both of Sukuna’s hands go to your hips and he lifts you up. You hardly realize what he’s doing until he forces you to turn around and face him. Then, he makes sure you remain hovering over his crotch as he works his cock out of his sweats, his eyes on yours as if he were seconds away from devouring you.
Sukuna looked ravished for you, tired of the past minutes he spent on some tedious phone call when he could’ve been buried inches into your sloppy hole. His eyes were low-lidded, maroon shade dazed with this feral need for you.
Oh, he was about to fuck the shit out of you— as he typically does. You’d picked up on that much, how his eyes would change, his breathing grown heavier, voice low and pitched with this sexy rasp that made your cunt flutter.
“Do me a favor,” Sukuna suddenly voices out, making you blink out of your daze. Your hands were on his broad shoulders, keeping yourself hovered over him. “Sit on this dick ‘nd make another mess f’me,” He instructed, words causing you to look down at his hard, slightly curved cock that’s been freed from his clothes.
It’s so damn intimidating— the way his veins bulge, how his hand jerks at his shaft in quick pulls, tip sticky and leaking precum as you stare with pretty wide eyes.
Your legs were straddling his already so, after a moment of admiring his cock, your eyes flicked back up to his face. Sukuna was glaring at you, impatiently waiting for you to plop down onto his twitching member.
His gaze sent a chill down your spine and your body was finally moving again. You lower yourself steadily as you glance down again but because of how slow you were living and how needy Sukuna was, he goes to grab your hips and pulls your cunt down to his cock, tip pressing up against your hole.
Both of you let out a heavy exhale in sync and you rock your hips forward just a little bit to ride his flushed tip.
“Don’t fuckin’ tease me, woman,” Sukuna breathes out, voice more airy than he would’ve liked.
You smirk, “Sukuna…” Your gaze lifts to his face once more, “You’re drippin’.” You whisper tauntingly.
His brows tense and his cock suddenly pushes up a few inches into you, a shallow thrust made in reaction to your words. Sukuna’s dirty talk was rubbing off on you and it drove him crazy. The hands on your waist grip even tighter, sure to leave marks as his fingernails dig into you and he slams you down on his dick.
Your eyes widen, face twists up, and a sluty moan leaves your throat, “Oh fuck-,”
“Told’ you not to fuckin’ tease me,” Sukuna huffs out in an aggravated tone. His big rough hands slide up to your waist and he holds onto you tightly before forcing you to ride him at the pace he wanted.
You’re moving to keep up with his motions as best you can, using your legs to lift yourself up and then plop your cunt down on his cock over and over— sucking him in deep and tight each time you go down.
Meanwhile, Sukuna’s forcing you through it, making sure you don’t slow down for even a second. “Needy ass couldn’t even let me finish my phone call,” He grunts out, “Pussy just needed my cock, huh? She’s that greedy?”
Your cunt just flutters and gushes around his dick, walls closing around his shaft as a moan slips past your lips, “I… ah, oh-, fuuck… m’sorry.”
“Aw, you’re sorry?” Sukuna mocks, “No you’re nottt, you wanted me off the phone, didn’t you?”
You shake your head, “N-No…”
“No? Hah,” That smirk of his starts to appear and his hands slide down your body, caressing your skin as you ride him in earnest, “You wanted them to hear?”
Your hips stutter in movement and your eyes widen, “I-“
“Wanted them to hear how desperate you are for some cock?” Sukuna huffs out, hips suddenly snapping up into you, “How dumb you get once it’s in you? Hm?”
“F-Fuck, Sukuna-, ah, mghh.” You whine, hips coming to an almost complete stop as Sukuna fucks his cock up into you, heavy balls slapping against your ass as his tip rams up into your cervix.
To make matters worse, he slaps your ass, “Did I say you could stop? Keep fuckin’ ridin’ me.” Sukuna orders meanly, making you whine as you find your movement again, earning a smirk from him in response to how your hips match his thrusts.
There was this slight shake to his car as you bounced up and down on his cock and he kept fucking it up into you, making it hard for you to think or even moan properly.
 He smirks and then holds your hips again, slamming you down slowly but roughly along with his words, “Mmmgh, just. like. that.” Sukuna groans, tossing his head back and breathing heavily.
The sight of him with his head back and neck exposed was so damn sexy, causing you to lean forward and move to his neck, pressing sweet but messy kisses all up and down his exposed skin.
Sukuna starts smiling, “Good girl.” He suddenly praises and your hips begin to rock back and forth, making his brows tense, “Aughhh, fuuuck, keep goin’, m’close.”
Because you had slowed again, you’d assume that he enjoyed it so you continued with a steady rock of your hips, keeping his thick length buried inside you as you did so.
He lets you continue like that for a minute or two but after that, he huffs, “I said ride me, whore. Don’t fuckin’ slow down.” Sukuna grunted.
For someone who was taunting you about being needy, he sure as hell had a thousand demands on how you should be riding him— as if he doesn’t know his dick is hard to take at some point.
Your brows furrow and your lower lip sticks out into a slight pout, one he finds so fucking cute. Sukuna moves his hands to your thighs, somewhat under them to aid you, and then he’s forcing your pussy to slick up and down him again.
You let out a little scoff before looking off to the side, “Shit…” Sukuna was thrusting up into you again, bullying his cock into your dripping cunt and forcing you to ride him through it.
“C’mon,” He smirks, “Take it—, fuck me.” He suddenly breathes out.
A shocked moan exits your mouth and your eyes are glossy as they find his, “W-What? Mmh…” You breathe. Did he just say what you thought he did?
“You heard me,” Sukuna’s smirk widens and slowly eases into a sexy almost fucked out smile “I said fuck me. Fuck me like you wanna make me cum,” He huffs, your body responding through upping your pace, “Yeahhhh that’s it.” Sukuna breathes, head flying back again.
The car creaked and bounced with the frantic movements of sex occurring inside, windows fogged, your tits jumping almost in his face, plush walls clamping down on his dick so good that he felt like he was losing his sanity.
Oh Sukuna was addicted. He can’t have any other woman on his cock that’s not you, not when you ride him so well and certainly not when your hand is abruptly felt on his throat.
Sukuna lets out a groan that’s treacherously close to a moan, his head tipping up from the seat as his eyes find yours, “Oh? You kinky fuckin’ woman, chokin’ me like this…” He grunts, smiling again afterward, “Can hardly feel those small fingers of yours…”
Truth is, he could feel your fingers. Blood rushed to Sukuna’s face and his cock, his mind dazed for a second as you choked him whilst riding him. He would never submit to you but goddamn you were making it difficult.
Your hole just sucked him up like a vice and your walls were so snug and warm, wetness coating his dick and even parts of his thighs. He was about to cum but he didn’t want you to think you’d got the best of him.
So, Sukuna tips his head to the side and brings a hand to your wrist, “This is cute but,” He pulls your hand off his neck, “Lemme show you how it’s done, pretty girl.”
Your lashes bat in disbelief before Sukuna’s manhandling you again, flipping you both over as his large muscular frame looms over yours. His big hands go to your legs and he spreads them fast and wide enough so that he can slam his cock back inside you.
Your back is arching off the seat of the car as soon as he pushes all the way into you, the sudden change in position making his leaky tip reach deeper than before.
One hand is propped up by your head and the other goes to your throat, Sukuna’s fingers carefully wrapping around you and feeling the way broken moans vibrate against your throat.
“Mmph… ah, ‘kuna,” You slur out as his thrusts pick up all over again. Something is mumbled under your breath and he finds it funny how you could barely get it out.
Tilting his head, “Huh? What was that? Speak up.”
You groan, “Harder,” His eyes widen and his hips just ram down into you at a merciless pace before you get out what you meant, “Choke m-me… mmh, f-fuck… h-harder, oh my… ahh, ngh…”
“Harder? You want me to choke you harder?” Sukuna repeats and you nod, earning a slight laugh from him, “Of course you do, slut.” As the last word leaves his lips, his hand is squeezing around your throat, making it hard for you to breathe while he recklessly pounds into your cunt.
“M-Mmmh,” You hum, eyes rolling back as that damn curve of his knocks into you just right, “F-Fuck. Ohmygod, f-fuuck…” You curse between a whine.
His face is hovering over yours, “Feel me in there?” You nod and he bites his lip for a moment, “Yeah?”
Sukuna just thrusts harsher and harsher, and then faster, pelvis crashing into yours over and over as the lewd sounds of sex escape his car with how sloppy it was getting. His cock was covered in you but only greedy for more, plunging in and out of you as he groans at the way you just suck him back in every time he pulls out.
“Want me to slow down?” Sukuna suddenly suggests. Again, you just nod, almost too fucked out to speak anymore. “Awww, but you’re takin’ me jus’ fine at this pace,” He praises, making your cunt throb about him.
“S’too… y-you’re so… hahh… mgh, f-fucking big-,” You moan out weakly.
Those words make his thrusts stutter and he grunts, “What? I’m what?” Sukuna questions, almost like he needed to hear you say that again. His face leans down to yours and his lips ghost your wet ones, “What am I? Say that again.” He whispers.
Your heavy breaths brush up against his lips as both of you hold such intimate eye contact with one another, “B-Big, S’kuna… S-So fuckin’ big…” You cry out, gentle tears beginning to leave your eyes.
The man unintentionally beats his cock down into your messy cunt, “Big? Ohhhh, don’t fuckin’ tell me that.” Sukuna groans, again sounding all too close to a moan, “Take it.” He huffs.
You nod yet again, “Uhuh… m-mmh, oh…”
“Yeahhh, take it you whore.” Sukuna huffed, “Every fuckin’ inch like a good girl, mhm-, fuck,” He finally moaned, eyes flickering for only a moment.
He was too into it, too into you— literally. Sukuna felt like he was in your stomach, the bulge of his cock so prominent with his every thrust. Never was he really gentle with you, not during the sex at least, there was no need to be. You liked him rough and he knew that.
“M’gonna cum inside you.” Sukuna suddenly warns, hips sloppy against you, “Fuck my cum nice ‘nd deep inside you,” He huffs, feeling how you twitch around him.
Then, Sukuna stares down at your face, his hand still around your neck as he gets a sudden thought, glancing down to your lips.
“Open your mouth,” Sukuna orders, his voice deep. Your lips are parting without a second thought and Sukuna looks you dead in the eyes as he spits onto your tongue. First, it’s one messy drip, then another filthy glob.
Oh that was nasty, he was nasty. And the fact that his action only turned you on even more really said something about you.
“Swallow it,” He demands right after, watching as you shut your mouth and do as told. Then, he feels the movement in your throat against his palm and he chuckles, “Fuck, that’s sexy… You’re such a nasty lil’ slut f’me, I like that.”
Sukuna leans down to you and the grip on your throat grows tighter, his lips moving to swallow yours up. It was a messy and heated kiss, your moans and whimpers being drowned out as his tongue slithered into your mouth.
The wet slick and slide of his mouth over yours filled the air and all you could hear was that and the brutal smack of his hips down into you as his cock unforgivingly kissed your cervix. Over and over and over again until your orgasm crashes over you.
Only then does Sukuna pull away from your lips, a messy wad of saliva hanging between the two of you as he speaks slowly and his voice makes you lose it because of that damn breathy rasp, “Pussy’s creaming ‘round me, shit.” He breathes out, slowing down his thrusts just so you can pay attention to it, “Hear that? Hear how she gushes ‘round my cock?”
It was messy, sloppy, and slick as he dragged his dick in and out of your pulsing walls. This is what it was like to be Sukuna’s fuck buddy. Whenever or wherever he wanted to take you, he would— spewing such filth out to you as he did so, no matter who heard him.
He didn’t care, he just wanted to make sure you heard him, heard his every nasty word because he knew you liked it. Hell, that’s why you’re cumming around his cock now, moaning beneath him, legs shaking, and tears streaming down your face.
Just as you’re coming undone, so is he, pace picking right back up as he fucks his orgasm into you— warm seed coating your walls as he leaned to your ear, groaning out a repeated and breathy ‘take it’ as you whined and suddenly clawed at his back.
“Take every drop,” Sukuna moans into your ear. You think he might have a breeding kink-, “Fuckin’ slut,” He adds on.
He’s going and going until he thrusts in hard one last time and stills himself. His breathing was so heavy in your ear, heavy like pants almost-, almost like you’d drained him of everything he had.
Sukuna remains still for a while before he shifts only a little, lips moving to your cheek as he kisses your wet skin. Then, it’s slow but his tongue slides out and he licks whatever's left of your tears off your face.
Your face twists up in slight discomfort due to his wet tongue and the fact that his heavy cock was still inside you wasn’t making things any better, “…Sukuna,” You sigh, “D-Don’t you have a phone call t-to return…?”
He smiles at how you remind him, despite your fucked out state and how ragged your voice was. Sukuna slowly moves to lean up but, he doesn’t pull out yet, “Mhm, I do. And uh,” He sits back a bit and pulls your body along with his, making sure he never once slips out of you, “You’re gonna keep my cock nice ‘nd warm in the meantime.”
His words catch you off gaurd, “But-“
His hand goes to your lower abdomen and Sukuna traces his fingertip over the slight print his dick makes against your skin, “You don’t want to?” He asks, tipping his head to the side.
Blinking, you just let out a sigh after a long moment of thought, “No, I do…”
“Alright then,” Sukuna smiles, “But if you make any noise, I’ll video call instead and show them the needy woman I gotta deal with,” He comments finally with a cocky little wink.
Tumblr media
tags;
@blognicole @suguruologist @luqueam @ivoryviness @sinaxalui @rxnnie18 @carlacujo @gods-landing @bitchysouljellyfish @miles4hour @sinaxalui @annananamin @heart-snow @kiyomizzx @hanuh @acehyacinth @mccookiemonster @tojis-ball-sack @cartwheel6869 @mariluvsusstuff @addie1010 @slammynics @actualz0mbie @hisbitchhh @kay-xle @cunttee3 @voids-universe @raininglovelyfire @itsbokutosjuicyass @peaceoutbritta @barbielani @gennaray @r3inae @kfmcykdy @camiihutt @tokina @curtin81937 @hopefullydecent @nameless-shade @ureuphoriasworld @forgetfulmachine @legbouk @lilliaannn @clementineee0-0 @divinelseraph @didibxx
1K notes · View notes
DPXDC: I wanna be like most girls ghosts.
or Danny: What should I do to make my mom happy?
or ~Danny deserves a little teenage rebellion as a treat~
Maddie: I just want this damned Phantom to stop pretending to be a hero! All ghosts are pure evil, who is he trying to deceive? Danny: Oh, really? And Danny took it personally.
It’s not Danny’s fault that he’s a good kid and wants to make his parents happy. But why would he have to be a monster to make them happy? Why must they hate him to be happy?
Danny’s obsession was going crazy.
Well, when your own parents call you a monster in the face, it hurts. Why do they always believe that only their opinion is the absolute truth? They have no idea how much worse things would be if at least some of the ghosts really behaved the way Maddie and Jack think they’re supposed to. If he really is evil by nature, is there any point in fighting his own fate? They want to see him as a villain, he will become one. He will. He just needs a little help and practice. And not bring it to the level when Clockwork has to clean up his mess. Poor guy is without a vacation for how long? Couple of millennia?
Johnny 13: Sup. Danny: F*ck off, Johnny, I’m not in the mood. Busy thinking about world domination. Get out of here or I’ll call Kitty. Johnny 13: What’s wrong? You’re usually so grouchy only towards the end of the week. Danny: Nothing. Just parents. Again. They are wonderful but I can’t help but feel sometimes that they, em… Johnny 13: Suck? Danny: Right…Damn. I’m a terrible son. Maybe something is wrong with me. Johnny 13: What? No, no, dude. You’re just growing up. And you’re a little late, usually teenagers go through that stage before they graduate. Well, you’ve probably been busy with other issues, so just missed it. Danny: I wonder whose fault it is. Aren’t there ghosts who enjoyed to ruin my life in the middle of school day?
Johnny 13: Oh, bother. Anyway, you’re entering a beautiful time of emancipation, where you’re going to shape your own view of life and, along the way, to get drunk on cheap alcohol at parties, maybe to go to jail and to become the greatest disappointment to your family..And then you will be ashamed to remember it for about the next ten years. Danny: Well, it looks like I’ve already done two out of three additional things. Great success. Johnny 13: When did you get drunk? Danny: I didn’t. Johnny 13: Oh. Want to fix that? Danny: What? No. What an idiot wants to add a headache to his problems? Johnny 13: Well, your loss, then I’ll go terrorize the bars of Gotham alone and no one can stop me. Let’s see what your boyfriend will say about it. ~~~~~ Danny: Bartender, another shot of Dead Man’s Fingers, please. Red Hood: Babe, haven’t you had enough? Danny: Have you ever felt that no matter how hard you try, no matter how many sacrifices you make, in their eyes you’ll always be nothing more than a monster? Nothing more than a mistake? Oh, Death doesn’t give people like me a break. Red Hood: …I’ll have what he’s having. *gives the bartender a sign to switch the rum shots to a batburger milkshake for them, and starts talking to Danny so that he doesn’t understand Hood's scams*
~~~~~
Johnny 13: Other people’s kids are growing up so fast. It seems like yesterday he didn’t know how to shoot ectoblast, and now.. Kitty: Stop trying to make me feel bad, we’re leaving. Johnny 13: But the boy needs our support, honey boo!
~~~~~
Danny: I'm fine. Really, I am. This isn’t the first time mom’s called me a monster. She often called me that when she was upset with my behavior in my childhood. Huh, it's even funny. Jason: There’s nothing funny about that. Danny: No, you don’t understand. Looking back, I was really a very active child and didn’t know when to stop. Not surprisingly that I often annoyed my parents. They’re very busy people, and Jazz couldn’t always keep an eye on me. And I was often afraid to go to sleep alone because there were shadows in the darkness of my room. Well, I used to think they were. But I pretended everything was okay to not distract parents from work. Jason: Hey, it’s not your fault. You were a child. Obviously, kiddo requires a lot of attention, they must have understood that. You are the second child in the family, right? Danny: Well, Jazz was different. I don’t know. Anyway, I thought if the monsters behind the curtain and under the bed were just like me, well, according to my mom, you know, then they wouldn’t want to hurt me. And since they look after me, they are friends. So I kinda greeted all the suspicious noises and howls. Huh, I was a strange kid. Jason: If you smile at someone in the dark alley right now that someone is more likely to wet themselves or faint. Danny: Rude! I’m not that scary. Admit that I’m adorable. Do it right now. Jason: Stunning, darling. But still carry a gun and a knife, please. My childhood taught me that what's hiding in the dark is worth beating up. Danny: Come on, what should I be afraid of? Death? Anyway, I want to try this shit. Like, the inevitable one. Being a bad boy, you know? Hood *raises eyebrows*. Danny: Oh damn it man, I'm talking about ghostliness. I want to try to be like most of dead ones. I want to unleash my side of the trickster and the villain. But only a little bit. I have to be supervised so that things don't go too far. Would you help me, honey?
~~~~~2 hours later~~~~
Tumblr media Tumblr media
~~~~~
Goons used to expect a lot of weirdness from working with the boss.
Sometimes Bruce Wayne would go into their base and yell at the Red Hood like he's one of his kids. Of course Wayne's well-known as 'Gotta adopt them all' but the guy must really suffer from insomnia to count the Red Hood into his brood of chicks several times. Sometimes the boss would fight Robin or Nightwing over differences in morals…or for biscuits. It varied from moment to moment. Sometimes the boss caught the local street children, fed them and taught them to steal correctly. And most of the foundlings stayed with them under their protection.
To make a long story short, Red Hood is not the typical crime lord that some of them had to deal with before. Which is a blessing. Thanks Lord for the health insurance. But still the crime lord. Which means he's still scary, and sometimes deadly.
Anyway, when the boss brought in a guy who looked more civilian than any civilian in the whole Gotham and said he was going to be their intern, they thought it was a joke at first. Despite the fact that Hood was not in the habit of joking while working.
The teenager was too well-mannered and sweet to come from Crime Alley. Phil thought the guy was gonna run when he saw the first murder, Jessica didn’t think the domestic boy wouldn’t chicken out at the sight of a fight. But arguing with a boss’s orders in their profession is like asking for a bullet in the head, so these conversations were taking place outside of their boss's sight. God, how can they teach him anything? What do you take from a boy who’s only good to do the coffee run? Fenton will fall if they’ll give him something heavier than 10 pounds. And then boss will yell at them because he treats the new guy like a princess on a pea. Well, at least that’s what they thought until the boss decided to give the new guy his own assignments:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
~~~~~
Red Hood: So, what have you learned during your internship, my young Padawan? Danny: Well, it looks like I’m gonna suck at being a criminal mastermind. I think I may have to find myself some other profession. Red Hood: Come on, you just need a little more practice. Danny: Thank you but I don’t think that’s fit my obsession that good. Don't misunderstand me, I wanna be like most ghosts. But I was wrong to go to hit that goal only base on human stereotypes about my nature. Red Hood: What a pity. The newbies just learned not to flinch when you walk in. But, to be honest, I'm not gonna miss the adrenaline-boosting roller coaster of you at work. Danny: Oh, and I guess to hold on to the concept of humanity was really stupid too. I clearly no longer fit in and I’m finally ready to accept that. So, hopefully, if you get into trouble, you can rely on my ghostliness and call for help. I am the spirit of many talents and of my word. I can haunt your enemies or walk through the walls of Arkham Asylum. Whatever you need, I’ll be here. Red Hood: I’ll bear that in mind.
1K notes · View notes
getosbigballsack · 1 month
Text
Random thought! - Husband Gojo x Wife Reader-chan #inside the diary
Hear me out! Gojo read your thoughts in your diary and came to realize that he was a terrible husband to you.
He knew he was a good lay, hence the reason he managed to knock you up three times. But as of lately, he came to realize that you weren't interested in having sex with him.
At first, he thought it was just because you were too tired, having to take care of the kids while he works, all day by yourself (in which he understands, and he praises you for being such a wonderful mother).
But that wasn't the case. He just happened to come home early from work while you were out shopping with the kids, and he got a hold of your diary.
Interestingly, he took it upon himself to skim through the pages of your book, just to see what's inside your little head. Nothing out of the ordinary, just little notes and reminders to yourself about the task you had to complete and a few words of encouragement here and there.
He usually doesn't read through your thoughts, always thinking that if you had an issue you'd come and talk to him, so he was about to put your diary back where he found it because he didn't want to pry further into your thoughts, but that's until one page in particular caught his eye.
I find it difficult to enjoy sex with my husband nowadays and I don't know why?
Words in blue handwriting are written beautifully on the paper. He kept on reading, and as he continued to move further down the line, he felt his heart break.
It’s just me, but I don't think I'm attractive enough to have sex with my husband.
I wanted to suggest the last time we had sex [that was a month ago], but I didn't wanna ruin the moment for him because he looked like he was having fun.
Satoru came home today and wanted to have sex. I told him no. He never forced himself on me. He only kissed me goodnight and left to go sleep in the guest room. I know he was upset but did he really have to leave?
It's been 2 months, and Satoru hasn't tried touching me since that night. Am I not worthy of loving anymore? He doesn't even buy me flowers anymore or take me out on dates.
He doesn't compliment me anymore, doesn't tell me that I'm beautiful. He doesn’t even call me baby girl, doll or even honey.
No more I love you, only kisses to the forehead and peck on the lips before he leaves for work in the morning.
He comes home late, I'm always alone with the kids, no more family dinners, no more kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom conversations. No more late-night kisses, no more holding me tightly in his arms while he sleeps.
Does he not want me anymore?
Sometimes I wanna visit his office with the children but I’m afraid that he’ll find my presence a bit annoying. I feel lonely without him here with me.
I should've said yes that night and spread my legs for him,
That's my duty as his wife.
To have fulfilled all my husband's needs without complaint.
But it hurts to have sex, I'm just not in the mood. I'm too tired, I just need my husband to hold me, but he's not there.
I can't complain, he's the reason I don't have to work.
But is it so bad to ask my husband to love me without having the need to touch me?
The last entry to your diary reads.
I'm going to do it today, bare the pain and have sex with my husband, just so that I can feel his love once again. 
Now he knows the real reason you won’t have intercourse with him, or let's say the reason you don’t enjoy having sex with him. You feel as though he doesn’t love you anymore, and he needs to fix that. So, until he can figure out a way to prove to you just how much he loves you, he’ll have to deprive himself of your warm loving touch. 
Later in the day when you came home with the kids, you saw your husband cooking up a storm in the kitchen. “Hey baby girl, want something to eat? It’s been a while hasn’t it.” too stunned to even say a word, you just watched as your kids, ages 3, 4 and 6 ran over to their dad and engulfed him in a big hug. He giggled and stopped whatever he was doing to bend to his children’s height and kissed every single of them on their cheeks. “Hey boys. Did you all take your mom out shopping today?” Oh, that’s right you’re a boy mom. You managed to pop three boys, all of them came out looking just like their dad, especially your eldest son. 
The boys chatted away with their dad until he excused himself and walked over to you and wrapped his arms tightly around your body. You're in a state of shock, unable to move for a moment until he whispers, “can I get a hug back?” and you did give him a hug. 
“Welcome home, have a seat, dinner’s almost ready. I cooked vegetable curry today, I know it’s your favourite,” and indeed it is your favourite. For the rest of the day, he spent time in the kitchen cooking while chatting with his kids, not without taking small glances at you. You all ate dinner together, got the kids ready for bed when night falls, before preparing for bed yourselves. 
You remembered that you wrote in your diary that you were about to try and have sex with your husband, all for the sake of feeling his love again, but that didn’t happen. Instead, you found your husband already waiting for you on the bed, fully dressed in pjs, a cup of your favourite tea in his hand and a warm loving smile on his face. 
He immediately started up a conversation with you, asking you about your day and your trip to the shopping centre. You had no clue what was going on inside your husband’s head, but it’s been a while since he last sat down and had small conversations like these, and you weren’t about to miss this opportunity. 
So with a smile on your face, you told everything that happened today and even the fact that you had to buy a bag of grapes you had no intentions of buying, but you did so because your 3 year old son stole and ate a few while you picked up a bag of oranges. The conversation went all a while until he sighed. 
“Y/N,” he whispered in a serious tone. “We need to talk. I was going to wait until tomorrow, but I can’t bear the fact that my wife would be going to bed with doubts about our relationship and my love for you.”
You swallow thickly and rest your now empty cup against the nightstand before turning to face your husband fully. He reached his hand out for you, and you gently placed your left hand in his. He wrapped his large hand around your finger and gently pulled you until you were straddling his lips. You swallowed that thick lump yet again, before whispering, “So what is it that we need to talk about.”
“Why do you always refuse to communicate your feelings with me?” he asked as he let go of your hand and wrapped both hands around your waist and rested his head up against your chest. “I know I haven’t been a good husband to you these past few months, but I don’t want you to think that I don’t love you or that you’re not worthy of loving.”
“I don’t understand what you mean.”
He sighed heavily before taking a deep breath. “I found your diary in the living room when I got home, and I read through your notes.” Your body tensed up in his lap, your mind immediately racing towards negative thoughts. Is he angry? Why did you have to carelessly leave your diary out in the open for him to see. 
“Oh!”
“I’m sorry for reading through your diary, but I’m happy that I did because my wife won’t communicate with me,” he said with a frustrated sigh. 
You frowned, “Would you have listened even if I tried?”
“I would’ve dropped everything and listened to whatever it is that you have to say. I know it's my duty to ensure that my wife is living her best happy life, and that it’s also my responsibility to take care of your wellbeing, but I can’t always know what's going on with you if you don’t communicate with me.” 
Communication on your end has always been a big issue in your relationship with your husband. It bothered him and he’d hope that after a while you would’ve grown out of your bad habit, but he guess he’s wrong, because here you are now after 8 years of being a relationship total and that includes the four years of marriage, and 3 kids later, you still struggling to figure out a way to communicate your feelings with him. 
“I broke my heart when I read that you thought that as my wife, your duty is to only provide for me sexually or even the fact that you don’t think that you’re attractive enough to have sex with me. What hurts me the most is that you have so many doubts about my love for you. Y/N you know that I love you right?”
“I do,” your voice trembled slightly as you answered. 
“Then why are you doubting my feelings for you? I apologise for leaving you to sleep in the guest room that night, it was wrong of me to be upset all because you told me no.” There was a moment of silence, you figured he was waiting for a response in which you never gave.
“I know I don’t say this as much as I need to, but I love you. I LOVE YOU so very much. I love you as my best friend, my wife and I love you even more as the mother of my children.” Tears started to obstruct your vision as you stared off at your wedding portrait that was above your bed and listened as your husband poured his hurt out to you. 
“I need you to stop thinking that you are not worthy of loving because you are more than worthy. You’re an amazing woman, an amazing wife, and an amazing mother to our children. Just the fact that you're a mother makes you worthy of loving.” 
“Satoru… I- I,” you stuttered, trying to formulate the words inside your mouth, but even if you did, what are you going to say to your husband? You had not one clue. 
“I’m not a mind reader Y/N, so you need to start communicating your feelings with me, because if you don’t tell me, I’m not going to always know,” he said to you as he snuggled his head against your chest. 
“I- I’ll do better.” 
“I’m happy to hear that, and I promise to show you just how much I love you and do whatever it is to ensure that my wife is happy, because your happiness means the most to me. I’ll get you those flowers you want, and I’ll try my best to buy you loads of flowers in the future. And about visiting my office.”
“Yes?” you said. 
“I would love for you to pop up at my office one day with the kids and surprise me. My workers have been dying to meet my beautiful wife and children. And about the late-night work meetings. I can’t promise you that there won’t be any more late-night meetings, but I'll do my best to get home as early as I can to be with you and the kids. I don’t want you to feel as though I’ve abandoned you with the kids. I’ll take a few days off from work too and take the ends out. You’re right we barely have family time.”
“Thank you,” you said smiling as you allowed those tears to run down your cheeks. 
“I’ll do better as your husband. It wasn't my intention to not cuddle and hold you tightly while we sleep. Baby you know you can always smack me in the head or do that cute silly little thing you do and crawl underneath my arms if you want to cuddle with me,” he said to you, and you let out a small giggle. 
He chuckled too as he removed one hand from around your waist to cradle your cheek. “Lastly, this is about our sex life. If I make you feel physical pain, or uncomfortable at any time during intercourse you need to let me know because the last thing I want to do is hurt you. In your diary you said that you wanted to suggest the last time we had sex. I want you to tell me what it is.”
Your face heated up immediately, why would he have to bring that up now. Couldn’t he have waited until a better time. But nonetheless despite the obvious look of embarrassment on your face you whispered, “I was wondering if… if…”
“Yes?” 
“I was wondering if we could try something outside the usual vanilla sex,” you said to him, and he cocked his eyebrow towards you. “It’s not that I don’t enjoy vanilla sex, I love having vanilla sex with you and you know how to be rough when you need to be. But I thought it would be nice if we could do something different.” 
“What do you suggest?” he asked with a sunning grin on his face. 
“Maybe we could try using some sex toys.” 
“Sex toys heh?” he said, and you quickly covered up your face with your hands. “I’m open, I don’t mind getting a few sex toys here and there for us to use. I can order us a few online on another day.”
“Ok…”
“Good girl. I love you.” he whispered as he kissed your lips. "I promise I'll be a better husband for you."
“I love you too, Satoru.”
2K notes · View notes