Tumgik
#kai is holding him up in two of these so take from that what you will!
sttoru · 3 months
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.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. it’s late at night and you try to cuddle with sukuna. keyword; try.
wc. 1.2k
tags. true form!sukuna x female reader. fluff, angst (+comfort). heian era. size difference (readers referred to as small). sukuna’s a bit mean, but he also has a soft spot for you. miscommunication ? it gets solved. reader gets called ‘woman, doll’.
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“what are you trying to do?” sukuna sighs. you’re up to something again, he figures. his red eyes follow your body as it crawls up to him on the bed.
you’re both tired after a long day of fulfilling some duties here and there around the estate. all you need is a big beefy man wrapping his arms around you to keep you warm and safe.
the perfect man for that is sukuna. those four arms of his wrapped around your small body feel like heaven.
“it’s called cuddling,” you retort. the sarcastic tone you used triggers a deep sigh from the sorcerer. sukuna holds back the urge to say something sarcastic as well.
he doesn’t utter a single word once you snuggle up to his chest. you’ve taught him how to cuddle during the first time you asked him to hold you. sukuna was awkward with showing any type of affection back then.
. . he still very much is.
“hug, please,” you remind him. the cold-hearted man scoffs, though listens to your polite request. all four of his arms imprison you against his chest, your small body nearly disappearing behind his limbs.
that’s what you like most about those cuddles you share together; how you fit so perfectly in his strong arms. it’s much more comforting than you thought it would be.
a pair of hands rests on your waist, the other pair on your hips. sukuna glances down at you and immediately notices that smile on your lips. even after all this time, he still cannot fathom why you’re so carefree around a monster like him.
and that inability to understand you and your love for him is accompanied by an urge to push you away.
“you got your hug, now get up,” sukuna interrupts the silence. his voice is cold and devoid of emotion—he uses that voice when he talks to other people. not with you, “i have better things to attend to.”
thus, it hurts. when he talks to you like that. like you’re not the person he secretly cherishes most. though, you remind yourself of sukuna’s own words. the ones you heard him say a while ago.
‘love is meaningless’, he said. you remember. and yet you kept hoping that he’d change his mind about that statement. you hoped and eventually saw exactly that: your presence and your affectionate gestures mellowed his heart of steel.
but all that effort seems to go down the drain every time sukuna pushes you away.
you know it’s because he’s unfamiliar with the feelings of love. he may not say it nor show it, but you know that sukuna’s afraid of hurting you. so, he creates a gap between you two every now and then.
you know and yet you’re patient.
“oh, ‘kay,” you nod in understanding. you pull away from his embrace and get up from the bed. your bottom lip trembles.
sukuna is not gullible. he’s anything but oblivious. especially if it’s about how you feel and act. he notices every single change in your mood; whether you mask it or not.
you walk to the sliding doors—ready to open them and step out into the hallway. your eyes are a bit watery, but you quickly blink the tears away and take a deep breath in. you reach for the door.
“come back here, woman.”
sukuna’s booming voice makes you stop. you glance at his form over your shoulder. he’s leaning against the headboard of the bed, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed.
is he. . . upset?
“why? you said you had better things to attend to.” you answer with a shrug. you try your best to not make it seem like his earlier words had effected you. you turn your head towards the word with a huff, “go on, then.”
sukuna narrows his eyes. he sucks at communicating what he actually desires—what he actually wants. right now that want is for you to stay. even though that completely contradicts his previous words.
the sorcerer doesn’t know what to do. when you’re with him, he pushes you away out of guilt. when you’re away, he wants you back with him.
love is complicated.
“you. . .” sukuna grunts in frustration. all those feelings for you inside of his heart are playing with his rational thoughts. he doesn’t like seeing you upset. he wants the usual you back, “tsk. fine then.”
silence, followed by the creaking of the bed frame. seems like sukuna’s getting up to do whatever ‘business’ he needed to attend. at least, that’s what you thought.
you slide the door open and set a foot outside of the chambers. before the other could follow, you’re suddenly lifted up in the air by a strong pair of hands. your vision turns upside down as your body is effortlessly hoisted onto a shoulder.
“woah!” you gasp and feel the blood go to your head. your eyes are fixed on the back of your lover. you kick your legs in protest, but only get a smack to your ass in response. you whine at that, “put me down!”
“watch it, doll,” sukuna hisses at your fierce demand, a warning to fix your tone. he puts you back down on the soft mattress. he’s surprisingly gentle when he settles you in place—not throwing you on the bed or anything similar, “should’ve listened when i told you the first time.”
your eyes meet sukuna’s and you notice how much they’ve softened. that alone makes the lump in your throat disappear. your love for him isn’t one sided—you’ve always kept that in the back of your mind—yet your thoughts made you overlook the little things he does for you.
his actions speak louder than his words. that’s the kind of man he is.
sukuna’s trying to open up more, though that process is slow. you’re fine with that.
especially when there’s that faint pout on his lips as he stares at you. his eyebrows are still furrowed, his crimson eyes sharp yet warm.
“oh, you want me back in bed this bad?” you tease once you get the opportunity. the man in front of you clicks his tongue and grabs your cheeks with one hand, turning your head up to face him.
sukuna’s eyes are focused on yours. the eye contact is intimidating, but you’re hypnotised. you physically can’t look away. he leans in and bites your lip with his sharp canines, “shut up.”
that raspy whisper alone confirms your assumption. you giggle at his attempt of refuting your point. you’re used to all those intimidating words and actions he pulls to get you to stop your teasing.
those empty threats—it’s becoming rather cute with how hard he tries to deny everything. he fails nearly every time, however.
“come,” sukuna lays back against the pillows after placing a quick and sloppy kiss against your lips. he pulls your body against his and presses your head against his chest, right where his heart is beating, “continue with your.. ‘cuddling’ thing.”
he put your ear right above his heart, because he remembers listening to his heartbeat calms you down. you told him that a while back. sukuna doesn’t understand why you like it, but his fingers massage your scalp either way.
that’s also something that brings you comfort.
you’re surprised by how much he knows about you, but appreciate it anyway. he remembers both the big and small things about you. ‘that’s how he probably shows his love,’ you conclude silently.
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emphistic · 17 days
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What is Love?
Picking Yuuji up from school was not a rare occurrence. On the other hand, picking Yuuji up from school while accompanied by Sukuna was a rare occurrence.
Kids are flocking to you like birds, asking if you were Yuuji's mom, and who that creepy man next to you was — this all reminded said creepy man about why this was a rare occurrence, and how it should stay one.
The final straw for Sukuna snaps when a little boy, probably around Yuuji's age, approaches you with his hands behind his back. "Hi, you are very pretty. Can I be your boyfriend?"
You looked a bit taken aback, before remembering this was a kid talking to you, and kids could be quite . . . odd. "Um, thank you! You are very sweet, but, I already have a boyfriend."
Sukuna smirks to himself, a smug expression painted on his face.
"That's okay. I have two girlfriends; you can have two boyfriends," the kid giggled. "He doesn't have to know."
At this, Sukuna glares at the little boy, fully prepared and ready to beat him up, but he halted, as you placed a coaxing hand on his arm.
"Umm—"
"Here!" The boy shoved a daffodil into your hands, it was covered in dirt and had a few missing pedals.
"Oh! This is—"
"I picked it up from over there," he pointed a little finger across the school. "It's pretty. And you're pretty. So it's for you! Hehe, pretty flower for pretty lady."
Just then, Yuuji came running out of the school's doors — backpack aggressively shaking and threatening to fall off of his little arms — and into your arms, well . . . legs actually. But he demanded to be in your arms.
"Up! Up!"
"Okay, Yuuji." You hoisted him up and he immediately went to bury his face into your neck, calming down from his hyper-ness when he breathed in your perfume.
"How was school, baby?"
"It was so fun! I missed you though." You felt Yuuji frown in your neck.
"Aww, well I'm here now. Let's go home, kay? Then we can make up for the time you missed me, how about that?" You rubbed Yuuji's back.
"Okay!"
Unfortunately for the other boy that was still staring up at you — and now Yuuji, too — he was long forgotten by you. Your full attention now on Yuuji.
When the pink-haired kid is finally in the car, after wrestling to not be strapped down by the seatbelt, he immediately goes to working on an assignment. Strange, you thought, looking back at him through the rear-view mirror. Yuuji hates homework.
This continues when you three get back to the apartment. Yuuji immediately slips off his shoes and takes off to his bedroom, assignment and pencil pouch in hand.
You turn to looked at Sukuna, "I thought he wanted to play first?"
Sukuna shrugged, not knowing what his brother was up to, "He's a weirdo, you know that."
You frowned, "I'm bored."
"I know a way to pass the time."
An hour later, you exit your shared bedroom — planning to start on dinner — just to find notes and drawings all over the apartment. On the floor, in the potted plants, on the coffee table, shoved in crevices on the couch, everywhere.
Picking up a few piece of paper, you find yourself reading:
"Deer Y/N,
You are so nise to me.
You are very good at macking food.
I love you!"
"You are so amazing!"
"I love you so mutch!"
"Y/N is good and nise and prety."
Some drawings even depicted you and Yuuji holding hands.
While eating dinner, you decided to question a very smiley and giggling Yuuji, to find out that he had an assignment to show his appreciation to someone he loved.
Most of the notes were only directed to you, but some of the drawings had Sukuna too. The rest of the evening, Yuuji spent telling you and Sukuna how much he loved you guys. Quietly, and going unnoticed by Yuuji and you, Sukuna reciprocated his brother's affection.
A/N: loosely based on this ask — this was supposed to be wayyyy shorter, but i got a bit carried away
Taglist: @starlets-things @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @lich1 @hannas16 @acroso
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witchwyfe · 4 months
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karma is my boyfriend - rc
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pairing - (non-canon) Rafe Cameron x female reader
précis - a lil princess treatment from rafe :)
content/warnings - mentions of alcohol/alcohol consumption, fluff,
word count - 673
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"Rafe, Rafe!?" You're spinning around, looking for your boyfriend until suddenly you whirl around and bump into a broad chest.
"Hey!" You gasp, until you look up and see his face. "Oh! Hi baby!" You coo, reaching up to cup his cheeks. 
"Hi sweet girl." He smiles, running his thumb along your cheekbone. 
You greet him happily, leaning in to his touch. "Did you get my drink?" You wonder, suddenly remembering why he left you in the first place.
"Hmm, sure did." He nods, handing you an ice water rather than the vodka redbull you'd requested.
You don't seem to notice though, slipping the paper straw into your mouth and slurping it down happily.
"We gonna dance s'more?" You wonder, straw between your lips.
"We can't, baby," He says, smoothing a hand down the back of your head. "They're closing."
"Nooo!" You groan, throwing your head back.
"I know, I know," He soothes. "But we can go home and get some snacks and watch a show...?" He offers.
"Okay!" You're smiling once again, digging your fingers into his tee shirt.
"Finish your drink and we'll go home, kay?" 
You nod, bypassing the straw and tipping the rest of the water into your mouth, before handing your empty glass to Rafe.
You're not even that drunk, really just a little past tipsy but you're fine with letting Rafe handle everything and take care of you.
Suddenly his jacket is being draped over your shoulders, coupled with a soft kiss to the top of your head. 
"Thank you." You simper. You slide your arms into the sleeves and blink up at your boyfriend.
"Ready?"
"Ready."
You lead him out of the bar, arms shoved into the pockets of his jacket, while he has your little purse slung over his shoulder, your phone, his phone, and the keys all in one hand.
"How much farther?" You ask a few moments later, looking back at him.
"Not too much," He frowns looking out at the street. When the two of you arrived at the club, hours before, he'd had to park his car somewhat far due to the lack of space. "Your feet hurting, baby?"
You shrug a shoulder. "Yeah." You nod. "But it's just till the car then I'll take my shoes off."
"C'mere," He says, shoving both of your phones into his pocket.
"What?" You wonder, turning to give him a coy smile.
Your sweet boyfriend kneels down on the dirty sidewalk, taking your ankle into his hands so he can unbuckle your heel. You're flustered beyond words, heat rising on your cheeks while Rafe's rough palm softly works your foot out of your strappy shoe. 
"Stand on my foot babe, so I can take your other shoe off." He says, running his hand up your calf. 
Once both of your heels are dangling from his hand, he scoops you into his arms, bridal style.
"Are you sure, Rafe?" You wonder softly. "I feel bad, you don't--"
"You have nothing to feel bad about." He assures, lips at your temple. "Just let me take you to the car, okay gorgeous?"
"Okay." You hum happily, relaxing in his hold.
Your arms are sling around your neck and you have easy access to his neck if you strain a little--and you do--at least five times on the way to the car, so you can kiss his neck.
He pretends like he's not flustered by it, but you can see the rosy glow of his cheeks from the street lamps, the harsh light making him appear ethereal and you have to shut your eyes for a second to remember he's real.
You’re still in a fond trance when he uses one hand to open the car door and gently deposit you into the passenger seat. He buckles your seatbelt and tugs on it, before pressing a kiss to your temple. 
“Love you,” You croon, leaning back against the seat to look at him. 
“Love you so much more.” He promises. “C’mere angel, gimme a kiss.”
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© witchwyfe 2024. absolutely no reposting, translating, or modifying, even with credit.
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queers-gambit · 7 months
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Two to Tango
prompt: the aftermath of Carmy's words seem to rattle him more than you.
pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader pairing: Carmy x Peach
fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear
word count: 5.4k+
note: author still does not want any messages about glorifying toxic relationships. typically, but not always, when someone calls you clingy, it's weaponized and is abusive. this fic is not meant to portray that! it’s meant to show internal agony and the journey to forgiveness - Carmy apologizes 'cause he's actually sorry!
warnings: cursing, reader folds 'cause who wouldn't for the sweet puppy that is Carmy, hurt and comfort, small angst, small fluff, we talk about Mikey a bit, author uses writing as therapy, relationship angst...? barely edited.
part one: God's Plan
browse Clingy Baby collection masterlist here
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"It's six in the Goddamn morning!" You raged at your front door, stomping up to it, "Are you dumb in the fucking head!? Who the fuck in their right mind knocks like the Goddamn cops at six in the fucking morning!?"
You whipped it open, the force causing a breeze of air to blow your bedridden hair back and highlight your exhaustion. "Hiya, sunshine," Richie beamed down at you, holding up a paper bag, offering, "donut?"
"Richie!? I know you're not fuckin' stupid, baby boy, so, what the fuck is wrong with you? It's six in the morning on my day off - do you want to give me a reason to punch you? You hate your nose that much?"
He tisked at you mockingly, "Someone's cranky this morning."
"What do you want?"
"You're not gonna invite me in for coffee? I brought us donuts! See? C'mon, Peach," He jostled the bag around with a shit-eating, closed-lip smile. "Dooonuts," he taunted.
You had to pause, count to ten in your head, then sigh through your nose. You offered kindly, "Richie? Would you like to come in for some coffee? Since you kindly brought donuts?"
He grinned, "Awwh, thanks, Peach, thats real nice of yah! Don't mind if I do!"
"Don't call me that," you snapped, leading him into your kitchen. The door shut and locked.
"Oh, someone's touchy."
"What do you fucking want?" You whined, pouring two mugs of hot coffee. "You come bangin' at my door, early ass in the mornin'. You better have a good-ass reason," you slid the mug over the counter he sat at. "Cream or sugar?"
He shook his head, fiddling with the mug for a moment before admitting as you dressed up your own coffee, "Uh, so... It's Carmy."
You paused, taking a slow sip from your mug, waiting for more that wouldn't come. So, you quietly asked, "What about Carmy?"
"He's falling apart."
"O...Kay?"
"Peach," he frowned, "you know that your relationship was the only thing that made sense to him - he's falling apart without you there."
"Okay," you nodded, taking another swallow of hot bean-water.
"That's it? Nothing else to say? Dude's losin' his fuckin' shit, Peach. Okay? Barely leaves the restaurant, h-he's all manic and shit, doesn't stop cookin', isn't gettin' a lotta sleep, and Syd said his clothes are all over the apartment - he's not keeping himself in order."
"So, he needs his mother?"
Richie glared with a clenched jaw, "Not fuckin' funny, Peach."
"I'm not laughing."
"He needs you."
"I'd argue otherwise, he's a grown fuckin' man who doesn't need to be taken care of. Look, if he was man enough to call me a desperate, clingy bitch, he's man enough to deal with the fallout of his words."
"Look, hey, hey, hey, I'm not sayin' he's not in the wrong," he waved his hands, eyes widening, "actually, the exact opposite. We all chewed his ass out when we found out what he fuckin' said, Peach. And look, I've never seen Fak that fuckin' angry."
You semi-pouted your bottom lip, "Really?"
"Fak was ready to strangle Carmy, I think," Richie sighed. "I yelled, Sugar yelled, Fak lost his shit, Syd even cornered him in the office and laid into him..."
"I thought she didn't like me," you whispered.
"She's getting to know you, but she likes you," he assured, "and it's obvious the affect you have on Carmy. We all respect that - "
"Oh, great, so everyone except the one person who needs to respect our relationship - respects it!"
Richie frowned at you, nodding in agreement before admitting, "He's a dumb fuckin' idiot, Peach, we all know that, but the dude is losing it without you."
"Sucks to suck."
"Peach," he groaned, slapping his hands to the counter with exasperation. "Don't you love him?"
"Of course I love him, but I also have this little thing called self-respect! He said some shit - shit he can't ever take back. The fuck I look like going back to him when he's the one in the wrong!? I don't hate myself that much, and despite what he says, I'm not that desperate for love."
"How is talking to the man you love - "
"Richie," you paused him, "your Cousin said a lot of hurtful shit. It's been weeks, okay? He's gonna snap outta it, realize what he's done, and right the wrongs he's committed. I don't need to speed that along in any way, shape, or form - he's a grown man. And I'm a grown woman, I don't have to fall to anyone's beck-and-call, he can figure his own shit out."
"I know - look, it's been fuckin' weeks of us dealin' with him losin' his fuckin' mind!" Richie snapped. "We tried to respect that you wanted distance and time, we really did, but he's losin' it, Peach, more than he's lost it before. Okay? I'm concerned about him, more than I was when the shit with Mikey went down..."
You sighed and leaned on your kitchen counter, wiping your fingers over your eyes to pinch the bridge of your nose after. "Okay, okay," you paused, sighing again, blinking as you looked at Richie, "so, what would you like me to do?"
He pouted dramatically, "Talk to him? Please?"
"To say... What?"
"I don't know, you guys can work that out together, but he's miserable, Peach. Just talk to him, just..." He sighed, shaking his head, "I know it's not fair to ask of you, but he's slippin' off the deep end. You're all he knows, all that makes sense to him, and with you gone..." His eyes turned red as he held back his tears, "I-I'm not sayin' he's gonna do anythin', Peach, but everythin' with Mikey's still so fresh... I just - I can't go through this again. Can't lose another Berzatto."
You frowned, understanding now why he appeared so frazzled.
"Carmy's not Mikey, Richie, okay?" You reminded him softly, reaching for his hand; leaving your extended to reach him, "And you're not gonna lose any more of us, you hear me?" You gave a squeeze, "I'll talk to him."
"Really?"
"I will," you assured softly, seeing the single tear drop from his waterline when he bowed his head and sniffled harshly. "Hey, Richie...? Do you, maybe, wanna bring some flowers to Mikey today? Think you wanna visit?"
He shrugged, "Maybe..."
"Maybe it'll be nice," you assured calmly. "It rained a few days ago, so, the ground won't be too soggy anymore, but the grass will be lush and green - hydrated and shit."
"Right," he chuckled, nodding, "yeah, okay, maybe that'll be nice, yeah, you're right."
"Maybe Carmy could use a visit, too."
"He won't go."
You nodded, "I know, but sometimes it's nice to just have the offer."
Richie agreed, downing the last of his black coffee. "All right," he cleared his throat, "let's go - you wearin' that?"
"What?"
"You gonna wear that? To go talk to Carmy?"
"It's not even seven in the morning!"
"He's at the restaurant," Richie shrugged. "Dude doesn't leave. C'mon, he needs a nap or somethin'."
You groaned, knowing he wouldn't leave unless you left with him. So, you got ready quickly while he sat at your desktop computer; playing Facebook's FarmVille - the same you left your little cousins to play when they needed distracted. He was enraptured by the adorable virtual sheep, laughing to himself as he learned the ropes of the game; and when you were ready, you had time to fill a to-go tumbler of coffee while he signed off.
When you arrived at The Beef, it was still closed for the morning prep; and inside, chaos rained in a fury of angry voices. You listened to Carmy snap at Marcus about something petty, going as far as to slap a pastry out of his hand as they argued in one another's faces with ignited passion.
"Ooookay," you moved through the kitchen and got between the two men, hands on Carmy's chest, "that's enough, Chef, hey, hey, hey, c'mon, walk away - just walk away, Carmy, don't do this. Hey, hey, don't do this, c'mon, just step off - walk away with me, please. Please, Carmy, hey, hey, step off, walk away with me, please."
"Fuck you doin' here, Peach?" He asked with red, swollen eyes. He looked sullen; pale between the angry red blotches to his skin, bags under his tired eyes, looking worn out and thinner than you remembered.
"Yeah, hey, hey, we'll talk about that, c'mon, outside, outside, outside," you directed him, sighing at the sight of the splattered pastry you were forced to step over. "I'm so sorry, Marcus," you whispered, seeing him nod and wave you off as you and Carmy pushed outside into the alley.
The door shut behind you, making Carmy snarl, "What the fuck, Peach - "
"No, I think that's better asked to you," you snapped. "The hell's wrong with you? Yellin' at Marcus like that? You know how rude it is to slap shit outta anyone's hand?"
He paced in anger, wiping a hand down his face; circling his mouth with his fingers, eyes ringed with red, hair greasy and tossed in a mess. His pants looked baggy, his shirt wrinkled, stained, and dirty with sweat marks.
"What're you doin' here?" He asked in a pant, hands going to his slender hips, head shaking as his tear-filled eyes avoided yours.
"Carmy, we need to talk."
"No shit," he breathed, scoffing after and widening his pace.
"Hey, Carmy, hey, hey," you reached for him, taking both his wrists in your grasp so he had to face you. "I need you to pause for me, please, hey," you stepped in his way when he tried to move. "Carmy, you're no good to anyone when you're like this - least of all yourself. So, I need you to talk - "
"You left," he panicked, pulling back to start pacing again. "You left - you left me. We got in a fight and you left, you fucking left. You walked away and you left me."
"Carmy, we got in more than a fight," you sighed. "You lashed out at me, then turned avoidant, and I don't linger where I'm not wanted."
"How can you think that?" He demanded, still pacing. "That you're not wanted by me? That you're not welcome, what? In my life? At my side? With me? Baby - of course, you are!"
"You didn't exactly make me feel any different," you pointed out sharply. "Carmy, can you please fucking pause for me so we can talk this out - "
"I know I fucked up," he ranted to himself, huffing and puffing as his emotion strangled him. "I know I did, I kept - I couldn't - I fucked up. I know I did. I couldn't get my head outta my ass," he listed, pacing as he panted when panic took hold of his being, "and I hurt you, and it was like I had to keep hurting you because I couldn't be alone in what I felt and I couldn't exactly figure out what the fuck I was feeling - I just needed you to hurt, too."
"Carmy," you sighed patiently.
"And I couldn't stop, I just kept going, and when I realized how bad I made it, I couldn't fucking stop - I needed y-yo-you t-to know what I felt, but I couldn't find the words. I-I hate that I did that, I-I fucking hurt you and I made this so much worse than it ever had t-to be, and I fucking know, Peach, okay? I know you're not clingy, you were just loving me. Y-You were loving me, you were using your own love languages, and I felt y-you so fuckin' close to me, and freaked out - I just - I just don't know why. I just - I panicked, I couldn't stop whatever I felt, and I'm so sorry," he breathed, shaking his head, wiping his cheeks as the tears started. "I-I-I'm so sorry, Peach, I couldn't control myself and I-I hate that I hurt you, and I know I don't deserve your understanding, but I just - I couldn't stop - "
"Carmy," you stepped directly in his footpath; needing to seize hold of his swollen biceps to catch his movements as he all but barreled right into you, "I need you to breathe."
"Nah, I'm okay - "
"No, you're not," you spoke sternly, shaking your head. "Baby," you eased your tone to a softer tone, seeing a glimmer of hope spark in his baby blues, "I need you to take a breath and remain in the present with me, okay? Just stand here with me," you watched as he blinked a couple of times; reaching out to hold your waist tentatively. "And stay in the present, okay? Stay here with me."
"I'm so sorry, Peach," he whispered, stepping closer so he could feel your breasts against his chest; caging you with his arms. "I'm so fuckin' sorry, I didn't - I didn't know what the fuck I was even trying to fight with you about. You're not clingy - you're not any of the things I said, I didn't mean it - any of it."
"Calling me desperate?"
"I didn't mean any of it."
"A bitch?"
"Please," he whispered, bringing you in closer so he could rest his forehead on yours. "Don't repeat it, I know what I said, and I'm so fucking sorry for all of it. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I'm goin' crazy without yah, Peach. I need my best girl, and I don't deserve you, but I fuckin' need you." He sniffled, pulling back to caress your cheek, whispering, "I need you, Peach, you're the only thing that I know - the only thing I can understand, that makes sense to me. I think I just felt stressed and overwhelmed, I wasn't sure what to do - I couldn't find the words, I'm so sorry."
You nodded slowly, "I think we can work through this."
"I don't deserve you."
"Maybe not, but you have me anyway," you whispered, bringing his forehead to your own again. "But you can't do this again, taking anger out on me when I haven't done anything."
"Never again," he sighed, now nestling into your neck for comfort; arms tightening so you were the closest you could be with your head bent to keep his head caressed with yours.
"I don't think we can say 'never', but we can make an effort to leave work stress at work, right?" You whispered softly, letting one around coil around him to keep him close; the other caressing his jaw. "You don't get to treat me like that," you reminded him, "because I'm on your side, Carmy, I'm not the enemy."
"I know," he squeezed you tight.
"And the people doing their jobs are not the enemy," you smirked.
"I know," he chuckled lightly. "I owe Marcus an apology..."
"I'm sure you owe it to the others, too," you mused, holding his cheek as you turned your head to kiss his forehead. "Promise me we're done with that reactive bullshit. It doesn't make navigating a relationship easier on us."
"We're done, we're so fuckin' done with that shit," he whispered, deflating into your embrace as you held him close. "I'm so sorry, baby. I really am."
"I know," you comforted softly. "I forgive you."
"I don't deserve it."
"Hey, hey, this self-deprecating stunt has to end, too. We've gotta go forward with at least some confidence if we're gonna figure this out together."
He nodded, pulling back but keeping hold of your waist. "I am confident about this... About you - about us."
"Hmm?" You gently pushed a few stray curls from his forehead.
"Move in with me - officially."
Your face contorted in mild disappointment, "Oh, Carmen - "
"No, no," he rushed, sighing as his hand flattened on your jaw and cheek again, "just listen to me. I've wanted to ask you for a long time, okay? I've wanted this for - like - fucking years. Hear me? I just," he sighed, "I wasn't sure how to ask. I want this for us, I want us to be together, okay? Officially. I-I want us living together, Peach, okay? I want to come home and just - I want you there. I want all of you," he frowned, tears swelling again, "and all your shoes in the foyer, hair in the shower drain, perfume on the counter, and every-single-way you know how to love me. I was wrong to say you were clingy - and everything else I said. Baby, the last couple weeks, I've felt so fucking empty, so lonely and - just - cold. I've been cold without you. I need you, Peach, I need you with me, and I need you to be exactly you - no holding back. Because you're exactly who I need to love me, I'm so sorry I fucked that up before."
"Carmy."
He frowned, "I'm sorry."
"I know," you smirked, "and I forgive you. But you know it's gonna take more than a few pretty words and some tears, right?"
He nodded, "Anything to make this work again."
You sighed in patience, "Go say your apologies to the others, we've got t'make a stop before going back to yours - and you're going to take a fucking nap."
"I'm fine - "
"Look me in my eye and try to tell me in the past 72 hours, you've had decent, restful sleep."
He frowned, opening his mouth a few times but then sighing. "You know I can't," he whispered.
"Exactly why we're going back to yours."
Carmy paused, brows furrowing as if a thread pulled them together. He asked softly, "Is that a no to us... Living together? Is that why you're calling it 'my' place?"
You offered him a look of patience and leaned in to peck his lips for a few prolonged seconds, promising, "There's your apartment, there's my apartment, and then there's gonna be our apartment. Somewhere that's just ours, 100% us." His mouth stretched in a grin, so you swiftly cut him off, "But you have to ask me again when you've got restful sleep under your belt. I want you clear headed when you make this kinda decision."
"Yes, ma'am," he agreed. "Where're we goin' before?"
You swallowed nervously, telling him softly, "You absolutely do not have to go with us, but I think Richie could use a visit out to Mikey's grave. I said I'd take him with some flowers, but you do not have to get out to go with us - not if you're not ready."
He blinked a few times, rolling his lips between his teeth as his eyes dropped from yours. You were about to coo his name and assure him again, when he nodded at you and tried to half-smile. "Okay," he breathed.
"Okay?"
"Mhm. I'll, uh... M-Maybe I can, just, hang back in the car."
"Sure, baby, whatever you're comfortable with," you whispered, leaning in to peck his forehead. "You good?"
"I will be."
"Mhm," you hummed, caressing his cheek again before pushing your hand into his curls. "Now, let's get a move on - I want you to march in there, say you're sorry to your Chefs, and then we'll leave."
"Yes, ma'am," Carmy whispered, leaning in to kiss you - but you pulled back.
"Aht," you halted him with a teasing finger to his lips, "after we've got everything worked out, then you can kiss me."
"You got t'kiss me," he mumbled against your finger; making you hum as you fought off a stretching smile, and lower your hand.
"Fair point - just one then - "
He cut you off by, indeed, pressing a single kiss to your lips, but not pulling back. His hand raised to hold the back of your head, your lips spreading in a grin against his; finding rhythm to move together before pausing to press in prolonged passion.
When he pulled back, you both paused to smile, and when you tried to peck his lips again, he pulled back, teasing, "Aht, just the one."
"Oh, fuck you," you laughed lightly, letting him take your hand before leading you back into the kitchen. The other Chefs lingered, sparing you and Carmy a few nervous glances, making you whisper in his ear as you squeezed his hand, "Go ahead, baby, get it done."
He nodded and called the kitchen to attention, clearing his throat, and beginning to make his apologies. He singled out Marcus, then Sydney, Richie, and Sugar; the kitchen staff all accepting his words and insisting he could take the day off - even the next few days if he wanted! You had to usher him to grab his things a few times, nudging him in reminder and verbally pushing him back into action. That boy's ADHD would truly be the death of him.
"So?" Richie smirked at you as Marcus handed you a packaged box of pastries.
"We're talking it out."
He chuckled, "Good. Get him outta here, Peach, dude needs to breathe."
"I got it," you swatted him away as Carmy exited the office. "But we've got somewhere to be first, right?"
He paused, then nodded and asked in a mutter, "He said okay?"
"He's got time to decide what he wants to do, but he knows we're going. C'mon, get your coat."
Richie met you at the front of the restaurant and with a parting wink to Sugar, you took Carmy's hand, tangled your fingers together, and left to venture to your parked car. Carmy got in the front, Richie in the back, and after a stop at a corner bodega to grab three bouquets of flowers, you drove to the cemetery. Carmy was silent, no music played, and Richie's leg bounced in anxious tension; making small conversation with you about your job in an effort to distract himself.
When you arrived, you pulled up on the access road that you knew was closest to Mikey's grave. Richie spared a glare between you and Carmy before muttering that he needed a cigarette and got out of the car to leave you alone. "Baby?" You whispered, reaching for his hand. "Hey, look, if you don't want to go with us, it's okay. We won't be long... But maybe you want to sign this," you showed him the small, blank name card left in the flowers.
"Why?" He whispered.
You shrugged, "So he knows they're from you."
"Peach," he sighed, meeting your eyes.
"Baby, I know it's silly, I know it's easier to ignore it all. But I'd like to believe it's just a nice gesture for our own closure - it's a signed gift from us, to them... And maybe it's nice to pretend that wherever they are, they know what we've left for them."
Carmy nodded slowly, "I-I don't think... I don't think I can go..."
"It's okay, baby," you whispered.
"But," he sniffled, opening his hand to you, "I'll sign it, if you'll leave it for me?"
"Of course," you rushed, opening your purse to producing a pen for him. The clank card rest on the center console of your car, pausing, swallowing nervously, then scribbling his name as he cleared his throat. He offered you the pen, waited until it was put away, then offered the flowers. "Hang tight, we won't be too long," you whispered, leaning in to rest your forehead. "You okay?"
He nodded, pecking your forehead before letting you get out of the car. You handed Richie his own flowers with a signed card, holding your own and Carmy's; linking arms with Rich to venture up the small grass hill and moved about halfway down the cemetery plot line. When you came to his stone, you understood this was what Rich needed more than you, so, you knelt and laid the two bouquets down before starting to quickly groom the area around his tombstone.
You told him, "I'm sorry it's not much, but I'll be back later for a picnic and a chat. I brought you flowers from me a-and from Carmy. He's in the car, but he's here, Mikey... Give him time," you whispered, brushing dirt from the stone before standing. "Take your time," you told Richie softly, seeing the tears gather in his eyes.
"Thanks, Peach," he whispered, offering you a tight hug. When you pulled back and started to walk away, Richie lowered himself to kneel and lay his own flowers down; hearing him tell Mikey, "Don't gotta worry 'bout us, Mike-Man, Peach is the glue that keeps us together. Shit, she even got Carmy out here..."
You made it back to the car and got in, smiling at Carmy - but dropping it the instant you saw tears in his eyes. "Talk to me," you whispered, reaching for a wet wipe in your glovebox to clean your hands after plucking the grass and brushing off dirt from the grave.
"Why can't I get out?"
You only stared at him for a long moment, unsure what to say.
"I'm here... I'm finally here... Why can't I get out?"
"You're not ready," you nodded, tossing the wipe aside to a plastic bag. "It's okay, Carmy, it's okay to not be ready yet. We can come back when you are," you reached for his hand.
"I think this added to my frustration," he admitted. "I couldn't... I didn't go to the funeral, haven't been here since he was... You know."
"Laid to rest."
"Yeah," he sighed. "Fuck's wrong with me?"
"You're grieving," you relented, nuzzling closer so your head rested on his shoulder. "It's not linear, Carmy, baby, just let yourself feel. When you try to repress your emotions, you lash out inappropriately."
"I know," he whispered, "'M sorry."
"It's not your fault," you promised, the two of you quietly bowing your heads together. You remained as such until Richie got back in the car, and from there, it was quiet as everyone stewed in their own emotion. You dropped Rich back at work before promising to call him later and driving away; heading for Carmy's apartment in the soothing silence, his hand locked in yours.
When you arrived at his apartment, you froze upon seeing the interior's state. "Oh, Carmy, no," you whispered, frowning deeply.
"Looks worse than it is," he deflected. You only hummed and let him lead you to the bedroom; watching him strip and prepare for bed before joining you on the mattress. He crashed almost immediately, sighing in relief as he pecked over your shoulder and collarbone, muttering, "'M so glad you're back. 'M so sorry, Peach."
"I know you are, and I forgive you," you told him softly, carding a manicured hand through his hair. "Just get some rest, baby."
He was asleep nearly instantly. He deflated on top of you, deeply resting enough to not notice you slip out from under him. You cleaned his entire apartment; doing laundry, cleaning, scrubbing, replacing necessities he deemed himself too lazy to pay attention to. You did dishes, cleaned out his fridge, and as you mopped up the floors, the sun set and Carmy emerged from the bedroom.
"Baby?" He mumbled in earnest confusion, sighing in relief when he saw you.
"What? Afraid I disappeared on you?" You teased with a small grin.
"For sure," he mumbled, wiping sleep from his eyes; making your amusement dim when you realized the nerve it struck. "The hell you doin'?"
"You didn't seriously think I could rest knowing this monster of a clean-up job lingered out here, did you?"
"I don't want you t'clean after me."
"Well, too late," you smirked. "You good now?"
"I feel better, yeah."
"Good."
"And I made up my mind."
"Hmm? About what?"
"I'm gonna take some time off work," he nodded, "and focus on us. Get us in a new crib, it'll be nice."
"Think you can handle that?"
He nodded, "I'll have to, you're the most important thing in my life, I can't lose you. So, if I gotta take time off, that's the least of my worries. I'm only here for us, for you."
You smiled at him, setting the mop aside to wrap him in your arms. "I like the sound of that, us making a home together - being able to decorate a new home. But don't let me overdo it, okay? I get all excited and kinda bulldoze my way through projects. I don't want you t'find real reason t'resent me."
"Nah, that ain't possible," he promised quietly.
True to his word, Carmy took three solid weeks off; agreeing to a fourth week as a contact-only consultant. You and he slept in most days, looking at apartments, and not once did he even mention work. He was diligent in his attention, focused on you and you alone; putting in overtime to rebuild that what was broke by focusing on shared interests again. You found a place you loved ready for what was basically immediate move-in, taking time to pack your respected places and prepare for the official start of your cohabitating relationship.
You didn't forget what he said, being reserved in your displays of love. Yet Carmy was different; he was totally clingy the moment you returned to his life. He feared letting you go meant you'd disappear again, feared you'd run away again. He held your hand at every possible opportunity, got you a fresh bouquet of weekly flowers, ran all his errands with you; never went to bed without you, cooked all meals with you in the kitchen - perched up on a counter. Most showers you took together, and almost every night was spent cuddling on the couch or in bed with either a book being shared between you or a new show playing on the mounted flatscreen TV.
Carmy clung because he thought if he showed you acts of his love, it'd allow comfort towards your loving behavior to flourish again - and he was right. It took a little bit of time, but Carmy clung tighter and tighter; ensuring you started to reciprocate before ever easing up in the intensity of his affectionate displays. He didn't want to overwhelm you, but knew you needed the reassurance.
You were cautious, you were apprehensive; tiptoeing around Carmy even when living together before warming back up to him. You didn't need to repeat the words he hurled at you all those weeks ago, not wanting to dredge up repressed feelings, but never letting him forget what he said. Your actions spoke enough, skittish around his affection; something Carmy took note of and despised himself for. He made up for it, of course he did, it was Carmy and he hated tension and conflict in his closest circles of life. Yet it wasn't so easy for you two to move forward, they weren't just words to you.
They were direct insults to you as a person; to you and how you loved others. Carmy had seen your deepest fear and used it as a defense against you - wanting you to hurt the way he was, too. He understood this wasn't acceptable, knowing the next time he resorted to such despicable actions, you'd simply walk away; never dealing with disrespect, so, he needed to be acutely aware of his words.
You would never allow yourself to be someone else's doormat, but part of being an adult is understanding that people were allowed to make mistakes - it's part of being fucking human. How terrible you'd feel if someone held your own mistakes against you, because the truth was, you weren't perfect either.
Part of being in a(n adult) relationship is understanding when someone apologized, it was best to accept and move on because nothing was ever solved by dragging turmoil out. This didn't mean forget what happened, forget whatever emotion was evoked - but to do your part to repair what was broken; no matter who was at fault, it always took Two to Tango.
And in this song and dance, you were ready to sweep around the dance floor if only with Carmy. Because that's what a relationship was; a conscious effort by both partners to work as one, to dance in-sync; owning the art together, as equal partners.
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requesting rules and masterlist
The Bear masterlist
Clingy Baby collection masterlist
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catiuskaa · 3 months
Text
need you to [Lee] Know.
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SUMMARY: minho loves you: to him, it’s as clear as water. Its only after he finds out that you’re starting to doubt it—he needs you to know just how much.
REQUESTED! here by an anonnie. I hope you like it, pookie, ‘cause I had fun doing this! <3
CW: slight hurt/comfort if you squint, but it’s just fluffy fluffy lino being really down bad and not knowing how to grasp it tbh which just gives me my serotonin dosis for the rest of the month lol
WC: 1.2k
A/N: also omfg kats posting two requests on the same day? that’s right baby, look at me go! 🤩🤩🤩
[🔅★🌼★🔅]
Minho was not the type to show his affection.
He comes off more like a shy kitten that slowly gets used to you, your sweet smell and how soft your touch feels, and then slowly opens up.
“But, uh… can I be real with you for a sec?”
It’s a feminine voice with a strong accent. He can hear it comming from your room, and the slight glitchiness of it makes it obvious that it’s a phone call set on speaker.
“Sure.” He can almost see you shrug, but he just closes the main door as soft as he can, pleading for the cats to stay silent for a little bit longer.
Minho can’t exactly place together why he’s overhearing your phone call. He knows who you’re calling, he can recognize Chan’s sister by her tone. But still, he keeps quiet, gently placing his bag down and silently taking his shoes off.
“I just— and don’t get me wrong, but, your boyfriend kinda seems… bored of you.”
What? Minho has to hold back a scoff, remaining as still as a statue next to the front door. He’s waiting for you to deny it.
“You think so?”
And then, he frowns, because you didn’t. Instead, your tone sounded hesitant. Dubious.
As if you weren’t sure if Minho loved you.
“You say he keeps cancelling your plans together. He has stopped making time for you. Like, girl, you can’t remember when was the last time he told you he loved you.”
Hannah pauses, and that only makes it worse, because it lets every word sink in.
“I uh, well. I ain’t gonna say that he should throw flowers at you every single second, but, uh, you know.”
He can only hear you groan loudly, almost picturing that cute motion you usually did when he meaningly teased you, taking your hair and covering your face with it.
“Can’t say anything for sure with him,” Hannah adds. “But, just by what you’re saying…”
Minho’s heart clenches tightly in his chest. He doesn’t want to keep hearing this... this nonsense. God, he loves you. And you… can’t see it? Frowning, he starts walking to your room, but his movements end in a halt, his hand just above the doorknob, threatening to grasp it and fully open the door.
“Girl, it’s gotta be late down there. Sorry this whole call was about me.” Your chuckle comes off slightly dry. “I’ll talk to you later, ‘kay? Go get some good sleep.” Your tone just screams how bad you’re feeling, and it just makes his chest swell with guilt that slowly creeps up his body.
Maybe he had been taking you for granted?
He opens the door as soon as you press the red button, sighing loudly after ending the call. When you see him, you jump in your place, startled by his presence, and you stand up awkwardly.
“Minho!” You say in a squirm. He can’t help but cringe slightly.
“No.” His tone sounds childish, like a petty toddler who didn’t want to eat the carrots in their lunch.
You frown slowly, the slightly wary grimace melting on your face, allowing a soft confusion to step in.
“No what?” You mutter.
He walks to you slowly, and grabs your hand, taking it to his chest, pressing it flat against his clothed skin, over his heart. You can feel his heartbeat, a not-too-slow rhythm: thump, thump, thump.
“Call me by a pet name. Any pet name.” He says, his tone equally firm and soft. “Call me by a pet name and say you love me.”
He’s serious, but god, so fucking nervous. His brain is slowly melting away because he’s so bad with words and he isn’t sure any action could be enough. He’s already blushing.
“I, huh… I love you, jagi.” You mumble, still confused.
And even if you don’t say it as fondly as always, or if your smile isn’t beaming like how it usually did, you can feel his heartbeat quickening.
“You can feel it, right?” His eyes are soft and worried.
Oh, God. You just know you’ve gotta be pouting. It’s hard to react with words, and the only thing you can fathom doing is linking your arms behind his nape and sinking your face on the crook of his neck.
“Min, I’m so sorry.”
“N-no, kitten.” He mumbles, hugging you tightly too. “I am the one who’s sorry.”
He breathes in, drowning in your soft fragrance. Home. It’s you, it’s warm, and he loves it.
He loves you.
So, he says it. He has to say it. He can’t not say it.
“I love you.”
And it feels so good to let it out that he chuckles. He has to say it again. “I love you.” And again. “God, I love you.” Just once more. “I love you so much.” He’s giggling like a fool, but he’s a fool in love, and that makes him blush even more. “I can’t not love you. Not loving you would turn everyday into Mondays. Like, I can get it tattoed if you want me to. I just. I love you so much that ‘I love you’ can’t even—.”
You move from his shoulder, now facing him, and you cradle his face, pulling him in a kiss that’s so sweet that threatens to give both of you type 1 diabetes.
“Y-you’re crying.” Minho mumbles, softly brushing the stray tears away with his thumb.
“It’s your fault, silly.” You sniff, giggling too. “How can you say stuff like that?”
Your heart is beating like crazy, the butterflies in your stomach are multiplying by seconds and in your cheeks glistens a bright and deep shade of pink.
You want to say it too. But in his own way.
So, you take his hand and settle it on your chest. Right above your heart.
It’s a rapid thump thump thump that Minho feels right away. He can’t help but smile widely.
“I super-mega-love you.” He teases, picking you up in between his arms.
You’re laughing, squirming in his hold.
“Lee Minho! Put me down!”
But he just grips your body tighter to his, and walking as if you weighted nothing, heading towards your bed, plopping you down there.
“Good girl.” He snickers, and you blush even further. Minho takes your chin tenderly and pecks your lips. For a moment, certain kind of idea flashes through his head, but he just kissed you again, following his previous thought.
He opens your closet with a toothy grin, and halfly eyes the window before picking up a random shirt, a grey hoodie that used to be his, a dark skirt and your thigh-high socks, going as far as to the suspenders for you.
He then turns to face you, his eyes glowing. He can’t wait to see you all dolled up. Minho feels like a teenager, and he loves it.
“You have twenty minutes.”
You blink at him, and you can’t help but smile, confused.
“I’m taking your cute ass to a date.”
It may not be an instant fix to the struggles to your relationship, but as you two walk down the beach, looking for colourful rocks that match each other’s eye colour, you know that he’s worth fighting for.
Regarding Minho, he happily hums to himself, eyes glued to your figure as you cackle and run in the beach, as you look behind you and giggle at the prints your boots leave in the humid sand.
He smiles, running towards you, tackling you and holding you in his arms.
He’s not letting go anytime soon.
~Kats, who always struggles to choose a picture for the fics because istg lino looks good in every single moment!!
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mondaymelon · 4 months
Note
first time in this account lol Idk if you're taking requests but I saw that post some minutes ago and... Idk, wanted to request something lol, if you didn't do it yet! What about headcanons with a reader who doesn't show physical attention until some years of knowing them? Like, they know each other for about 5 years and just then the reader decides to do some small act of physical affection... I wanted the headcanons to be with Childe, Arlecchino, Wanderer and Furina! If you can <3
₊˚ෆ 𝐈𝐅 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔… | childe, wanderer, arlecchino, furina x gn!reader
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( childe's part might be a little ooc. havent done that part of the archon quest yet cries. also mwah arlecchino we love her in this household !! )
[ You were always someone who wasn’t fond of physical attention. Fleeting touches and kisses to the cheeks were never your forte, yet what should happen if the lover you’ve had for years is suddenly on the receiving end of such affections? ]
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"physical affection... ah- it's okay if you can't show that to me, there's plenty of other ways to tell that you love me!"
CHILDE was the one to say those words to you, and the held the most certain truth. You were his lover, and a hug or two couldn't sway the fact! While the harbinger is quite the puppy and often yearns for your warmth, he'll respect your boundaries and allow you whatever. A lover like Childe places your happiness as a priority over his, wanting more to see your eyes sparkle than his own.
"Love, you wouldn't believe what happened in the courthouse today." You glance up from your spot where you're curled up on the couch, snuggled into a fluffy blanket and holding a warm drink in your hands, one of Inazuma's light novels sitting on the armrest. You hear the door to the two of you's home shut and lock, and listen to... Childe's footsteps. How strange, is he stumbling?
Glancing up, you internally gape at the cuts on his body, your eyes instantly drawn at the red splattered across his features. "'Taglia, what hap-"
He lets out a dry chuckle, grinning sheepishly as he rids his shoes at the door. "No worries, the blood isn't mine. Most of it, at least. I managed to get out of there in time, so all's well, yeah?"
As if that'd provide you any comfort. You narrow your eyes, glaring at him unyieldingly, until Childe has no choice but to force out another tasteless chuckle. "Come on now, I'm home, so let's do something fun instead of just being mad at me, 'kay?"
"Tartaglia."
The man flinches, his deep ocean eyes rounding. When you call him that and not his nickname, he knew that he had landed himself in deep shit. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry." He says that, but the sentence rounds up in a change of his tone, sounding almost suspiciously like a question. "It won't happen aga-"
The world itself seems to stop.
Your head is buried into his chest, arms wrapped around his waist. Archons, can you hear how fast his heart is beating? You've made him into a complete and utter mess. He's blushing, his ears practically on fire, and any thoughts once in his brain have been seared away in single second. It takes him to the count of three to remember how to breathe once more, his chest erratically heaving up and down as his shaking arms wrap around you hesitantly, wondering if it'd be okay to do so.
"...Love?"
"Mhm?"
"I- I thought you-"
"If it's with you, I'm okay."
Oh, how those words tug at his heart. You look so perfect in his arms - yes, you looked simply perfect all the time, he'd admit in a split-second. The messy nest of hair atop your head when you woke up in the early mornings, the dark bags under your eyes when you didn't sleep until late at night, your smile, your laugh, even your scowl. It silenced any effort to not fall in love with you.
A smile tugs at his lips. A bright one, a warm one, if that was even possible. Perhaps his eyes are shining with tears, or perhaps it was merely a trick of light, but he holds you all the closer, not wanting to let you go.
"Love, I... Archons, I don't think I'd be able to love anyone but you." ₊˚ෆ
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"..great. i don't want your filthy hands on me anyways, so there shouldn't be a problem, hm?"
WANDERER's words were just that, would it kill him to be a little nicer? It didn't matter... you knew your lover well, or at least well enough to tell that what he said wasn't the complete truth.
Sure, you had seen him shrug off and make expressions of disgust directed towards particularly touchy people that he'd become somewhat acquainted with. And you most certainly had witnessed his frustrated outbursts and rants when he returned home to your shared abode, whining and grumbling about any trivial error someone had made - that is, brushing fingers with him while passing him papers. Something that couldn't exactly be avoided, yet he had glared at the wall for a good amount all the same.
Ah, but then there were moments when he thought you weren't looking, and that was when his eyes would drink you in. Grazing over your eyes, to your lips, then to your hands, where'd they linger on your fingers for perhaps longer than they should.
And you'd catch the times where you were inclined to say something flirtatious - words that were never all that flirtatious in the first place, Wanderer just happened to be unusually susceptible. Chin resting on your hand, eyes staring into his, you'd say something about how pretty he was, and then he'd just about go into neurogenic shock, likely not speaking to you the rest of the day, the tips of his ears, if one squinted to a certain extent, pink.
"Love." You glance up at him, a slight pout fixed on your lips. He'd been immersed in minor tasks, and those pesky things were what stole his attention away from you. An ironic twist of fate, as you were usually the one to be drowning in work, and he'd be the one practically begging for affection.
He hums, yet doesn't even bother to look at you.
"Do you want to go for a walk?"
"No."
"Go get something to eat?"
"No."
"Visit the... House of Daena?"
"No."
"Shall we feed the finches?"
A slight pause. "...No."
"Then... let's hold hands?"
He froze at your words, and it seemed that the male lost the function of inhaling, for he sat there unmoving for what seemed like hours, his expression petrified in its form of his large eyes, raised eyebrows, and mouth slightly ajar.
"...Excuse me?" It seemed that he doubted his own ears, for he set his work aside and fixed his focus upon you, fingers trembling just the slightest.
"Hmph, have you suddenly forgotten how to think?" You frowned, yet your eyes curved into crescents all the same, and Wanderer felt his breath hitch at how ethereal you were. The sly fox you were, you took his moment of shock, settling by his side and intertwining your fingers with his. "Like this, is it not?" You were smiling now, and for the first time you glimpsed the red on his ears, but now on his face too, a rosy red descending upon his cheeks.
"What's..." Perhaps you were right. His vocabulary had suddenly dwindled, and now he had nothing but questions - that, and the growing warmth in his chest. "What do you think you're doing right now?"
Whatever attempt he had to sound "mean" had failed. You knew him too well for that. "Holding hands, what else? Your hands are cold you know-" And at that he flinched. "But it feels nice."
D...Did it really?
"You, no... love, let's stay like this. You're... warm." ₊˚ෆ
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"when you sought me, i thought it'd be a serious matter. there's no trouble in it, truly, so there's no need to look so dejected."
ARLECCHINO hadn't even batted an eye. Was there a reason to? Yes, this certainly crossed off any thought of romantic couple things like kissing and hand holding, but it wasn't like she'd gasp dramatically and fall to the ground, blaming you for setting boundaries-
As if she'd ever. Your imagination was running wild today, perhaps it was the lack of sleep finally catching up to you? It was a stark contrast compared to Arlecchino, who went days without rest, shuffling through paper after paper on her desk and constantly relaying messages to her subordinates. She was a hard worker - a trait most easily overlooked, but it was a point of adoration for you. A point among many. Arlecchino was an easy person to love, despite the bristling thorns she'd show at first glance.
"Darling, a cup of tea, please?" Her gaze flicked up from her work to you, a thin smile decorating her lips. It was more a less a habit the two of you established - that is, pouring her tea. Her favorite cup was the one you had gifted her when you first started your relationship, shaded in a dark hue and embellished with roses, their blooms, petals, and thorny branches spreading across the expanse of porcelain. You placed said cup on her desk with a breath of satisfaction, tilting you head in questioning at the unusual amount of papers on her desk.
"Arle, did something happen?"
She merely chuckled to herself, her eyes shining with delight. "Ah, why don't you wager a guess?" You were her "subordinate" of sorts, although your true association was far more intimate. You knew of her plans with Fontaine, and helped carry them out. She revered your loyalty, but your warmth far more.
"...Has the hydro gnosis been secured?"
She snapped her fingers in one swift motion, her small smile widening into a true one that played across her ruby lips. "Correct, I'd expect nothing less of someone as capable as my lover."
"Then, Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet..."
"They've done well." It'd be hard to forsake the note of pride in her voice. Setting down the sheets in her gloved hands, she stood from her seat slowly, letting her eyes scan over your body. "You've asked your question, now shall I ask mine? Darling, I did quite well myself, did I not?"
Her expectant gaze read one thing, but instead of the usual quality time spending the two of you'd share, this time, you had rather differing plans. Smiling, you walked up to her, not letting the way her eyes sparkled just the slightest escape your sight. Promptly, sneakily, you flung yourself upon her, beaming as your hands found refuge winding about her torso, nearly instantly trapping her into your death hug. "You did, Arle~!"
"..." At her silence, you glanced up, only to be met with a sight that drew blush upon your own cheeks. Her usually composed, mystery-shroud features were now conflicted with crossing emotions... of what, however, was rather indecipherable. Arlecchino was a person of many masks, yet now it seemed that her "mask" displayed but one thing - love.
"Darling, I... you look perfect in my arms, so shall we stay like this a moment longer?" ₊˚ෆ
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"is that so? a trivial matter, is it by law that i must hold you in my arms in order to prove my love for you?"
FURINA's multicolored irises and teardrop pupils twinkled, their shine dancing on the moonlit breeze. A hand daintily held a teacup, its fragrant contents swirling about the porcelain basin. Her laugh accompanied the cool evening wind, and she fluttered her eyes shut in a smile that brightened her expression. "Come now, why so shocked? Wouldn't this be expected from someone as benevolent as I?"
It was a scene that would remain forever painted in your mind, like a beautiful mural that one's eyes could not possibly forsake. The way her mouth tugged upwards and the manner in which her eyes curv-
"Hey, are you even listening to me right now?" A familiar voice tugged you out of your reminiscence of the confrontation months prior. Furina displayed a childish frown on her lips, her partly furrowed eyes sharpening her gaze into a rather particular one.
Oh, lost in thought once more. You let out a soft sigh, nodding sheepishly. "Yes, love, I am.."
"Mhm..." Your words left a no, you clearly aren't!" Furina sat up, her intensifying discontentment apparent on her features. "I said I got you access to front ticket seats to the hottest new court case! You know, the one involving the robbery... the one that's quite literally got the entire Steambird in a chokehold? Yet, you're not excited in the slightest!?" She sounded offended, and she likely was, for her cheeks were flushed the slightest in rash frustration and her narrowed eyes creased at their corners. "Appreciate my efforts, why don't you?"
"Appreciate" indeed.
Ah, but was a sudden, tight embrace overshooting it? For she tensed in your arms, her frame absolutely suspended in your hold, her slack jaw giving the slightest tremor. "Mon amour, just w-what are you-?"
"Come now, Furina, am I not permitted to hug my own lover now?" The jesting in your voice faded as the sarcastic grin on your face formed a smaller, more genuine one. "I'm... ah, I'm okay, if it's with you. I'll be okay."
She paused at your words, contemplation of them flashing in her gaze, and let out a gratified exhale. "Then..." she nearly melted in your embrace, leaning her head into your arms compliantly.
"Don't you dare think I've forgotten about your previous transgression, but... ah, it can be forgiven, can't it, mon amour?" ₊˚ෆ
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(a/n) hc hc hc hc furina calls youfrench petnames because french oui oui baguette.. AHEM my sincerest apologies to any french or french speakers...
REBLOGS APPRECIATED!! please consider following me as i amm soosososoo close to a follower goal ive been wanting to reach and itd be crazy if i could reach it before christmas!!!
໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader
-> teehee what if yall left a message on my christmas tree 😶😶😶
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sixosix · 6 months
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requested by anon!! hope u enjoy, warning for profanity, fluff
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As soon as Wanderer’s eyes laid upon the ball of fluff in your palms, he had said with a disdainful glare to “discard of that at once.”
But you aren’t having any of it. The little kitten curled up by your chest is looking up at you so adorably that you simply can’t discard it, no matter what your boyfriend might say. In fact, the shade of the cat reminds you of his eyes—but saying that would provoke him further, and you’re already on thin ice, letting the cute stray run around your shared home while he makes a face at each sight of its fur.
You coo as the kitten licks your nose when you hold him up to your face. “Do I name him after you? Can I name him after you? I’m naming him after you.”
His eyes narrow, glaring at the impossibly tiny space between you and the animal. “You are not naming it after me.”
“Kuni,” you negotiate. Not that he has a choice anyway because you already have your mind set on it. “Kuni, baby, are you hungry? Do you want some food?”
Your Kunikuzushi bristles, hackles rising. “Seriously? You’re doing this?”
The cat, as if beckoned by his voice, paws at him. “Meow,” the little kitten says softly. Wanderer, to the cat’s dismay, doesn’t respond; he simply rises from his seat and leaves.
So it’s established that you’ve long accepted that Wanderer is not fond of your new pet.
A crying shame because the cat adores him. You don’t know if there’s anything deep to his hatred for your new stray or if he’s just jealous that your undivided attention is no longer on him, but you took pity and decided to own the responsibility of taking care of it.
Which makes it a surprise to come home one day and see your boyfriend nestled against your bed with the kitten curled up on his chest, meowing as he smiles faintly and rubs its head with a finger.
“What? Don’t tell me you’re hungry again?” he murmurs. If you had been in another room, you wouldn't have heard it yourself. “Don’t get too greedy.”
Your breath hitches, too afraid to shatter this moment by bursting into the room. Then again, you should’ve realized that the cat has been sticking too long around him too often without something at play. Perhaps the reason why it’s so fond of your boyfriend is because of secret tender moments like this.
“Your owner will get mad at me if I overfeed you,” he says conspiratorially, rubbing his finger against the cat’s chin while it purrs and nuzzles its face further into his palm for more.
Your heart melts, a tiny noise escaping your lips at the sight of the ever-so-haughty Wanderer on the bed, all but cuddling with your pet.
Wanderer’s eyes snap the crack of the door, perfectly meeting yours as if he knew all along that you were there. “Not a word.”
You gasp, enough to startle Wanderer and make him jump but not enough to wake the sleeping kitten on his hat. Lambad’s Tavern is a little empty, with only an adult or two hanging around to drink their sorrows away or loosen up to their heart's content. And you and your boyfriend are tucked in the far corner, where no one would bother to peep.
“Kunikuzushi!” you cry out, hands hovering around his head in panic. “Kuni, careful, what if Kuni falls?”
Kunikuzushi the human(?)’s face twists in confusion. “You should have never named it that.”
“Kuni,” you hiss as his movements have caused the cat to stir, yet miraculously not wake. “Don’t let him fall, ‘kay? God, I can’t bring myself to even leave my seat.”
He sighs, long and heavy. “I’m not going to drop him. Have more faith in me, will you? I have a better sense of balance than any of you in this Tavern combined.”
“But what if he falls and you accidentally attack him by trying to save him?”
“I’m not gonna wind blade the fucking cat.”
You’re staring at the kitten, who is, unfortunately, looking all too much at home on Wanderer’s hat as if it’s more comfortable than his own bed at home. It’s even worse that Wanderer spoils the cat rotten and lets him sleep wherever he wants. Now, wherever he walks, he has a tiny animal asleep on the top of his head.
Wanderer huffs, squeezing your mouth with a hand to prevent you from arguing. “If you love the cat, you will get us food and avoid waking it up with your yapping, got it?”
“Aw,” you smile, “you don’t wanna wake him up?”
He scowls. “Are you going to let us starve?”
The sight of him and the kitten looks too adorable. You can’t resist from agreeing to whatever Kuni the human is ordering you to do. You rise from your seat, leaving but not forgetting to kiss the cat’s head and Wanderer’s cheek, who flushes brightly and grumbles but doesn’t complain.
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satocidal · 6 months
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𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳“15 missed Calls”—Geto Suguru
Synopsis: Suguru wasn’t a jealous or angry man but then you usually didn’t flaunt your ass a round in a tiny dress either- but hey, Halloween’s every girl’s pass at being a whore, right?
── ˚₊✩‧₊ A/n: ok yeah I’m late to post for Halloween but it’s like barely anything to do with it so <3 also I did stray away from what I’d planned to write but then hehe👉👈 also, thanks to @romiyaro for beta and in general (I swear I’ll get pouty! Reader in some Drabble now💀)
── ˚₊✩‧₊ word count: 3.9k
── ˚₊✩‧₊ warnings: MDNI!!smut!!fem! Reader x Suguru; pussy inspection; degradation; jealous (but totally not toxic) Suguru; orgasm denial; hinted power dynamics; reader is more or less a brat; spitting; Suguru is almost a soft dom? It was supposed to be just smut but idk (PWP)
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“Crawl”
You stared at him blankly, “Now,” Suguru added, brows raised- a smirk wide on his face as you drop to your knees.
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“I’ll be back late, don’t wait up on me Su’”
A nod he passed mindlessly—“Sure thing babe- just lemme know if I have to pick you up and don’t get wasted, send me a message if you change locations and-”
A heavy pause settled in, you walked in skittishly—a bashful grin on your face, “This ok?” Question which referred your dress in place.
Mostly, it wasn’t ok—definitely not appropriate in the way the small little satin piece hugged your body, so short Suguru was sure you would flash somebody after two drinks.
But it was Halloween—every girl’s free pass at being a whore.
A sigh Suguru let out, “it’s gorgeous, you’re gorgeous…”
Your smile, guilty, only spread further, “..but?”
He smiled, shaking his head, “Nothing, just take care ok?” A step towards you and a turn of his finger to give him a spin—chuckling as you twirled excitedly and then hugged him—he was very sure it would be a long night.
-
15 missed calls, 25 messages with the same connotation of “are you ok?” And “where are you?”
A single slurred reply to you 40 messages with a “suguwu :)):) m’ kay. Pck me up im 20?”
And with all obviousness, it wasn’t well received at all—so evident in the way tension hung heavy in the car, your seat belt properly holding you in place—his piercing gaze, and the certain placement of his hand on your thigh that kept you as sober as possible.
“Mm sorry,” you slurred out again, head lolling to the side to look at him—stuck at the way his jaw clenched at your words.
Not a word he passed, not a word after that, did you.
And hence, ride back home was quiet, awkward and…in some way, scary.
Click- the door fell shut, locked, entrapping what was of you and Suguru alone in the house.
And just so suddenly, every stitch in the hem of your flimsy red dress began seeming interesting—“What did I tell you?”
You winced and groaned, internally at his tone—“The fact that I trust you to- to, gods,” he paused as if searching for the right words—but you saw it, the switch in his eyes as they darkened just the slightest—“To leave the house dressed as a cheap little whore, one thing I asked for. Your fucked out lil’ brain can’t even do that?”
You stood there in the middle of your apartment, frowning and loosely, berated as a little kid, it seemed.
“Mm’ sorry Su’ it’s just- the girls-”
A sharp glare from him, enough to make your excuses die down your throat—“The girls this and the girls that right? Why was there nobody when I picked you-”
“-I ordered them all Ubers,” you muttered under your breath, a silence resting again.
“And you couldn’t one for yourself, why?”
You paused, hesitated—never once looking at him, “I thought…I thought I had you so…”
That was when Suguru took notice of the pout you held—the one you did all the time, The one he mostly loved.
“Besides,” you began—attention strained on the memory as you thought hard, “I’m not a child to be taken care of, or someone who’ll get lost-”
What you had assumed would quieten everything down only seemed to uproar a side of him you barely saw.
“Excuse me?”
You gulped, hard—“well yeah-”
“Shut the fuck up.” He snapped, moving all so close—“You were down right freezing and shivering when I pulled up, I don’t care what your girls do but your tits were almost hanging out, like a damn slut. Hell, why did you have those 20 dollar bills stuffed in there?”
You almost wanted to chuckle at the last part- it would make for a funny story, but the look on Suguru’s face screamed that it would have to wait till at least, the next day.
“I was alright,” you scoffed, a hand pushing him away—not a budge that it caused in his stance, “The bartender…he was nice- didn’t even let no one come near our drinks and- and even offered me lemons after closing and-”
“-woman,” Suguru interrupted quick, a long sigh withdrawn, “it was me who offered you lemons,”
You waited—a pink tint already dusted your face, ears burning at his words, “oh.”
He sighed again, seemingly recollecting his thoughts as you bit your lip—gods how he adored you—especially when you wobbled slight, wrapping your arms around his torso and pulling yourself into him, head resting in his shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled softly, against his body—his hands resting on your sides, “I know you’re a big girl alright? I know you can look after yourself,” he pulled away slight, a kiss landing on your forehead, “but it’s my responsibility too you know? And it was majorly annoying to have you gone like that,”
A nod you passed, again an apology mumbled except this time you were met by the shake of his head.
“No you’re not,” he mumbled, “you do this a lot you know?”
And you do, not informing him of the late night work sessions and what not, not informing him on time of a date cancelled, he was rightfully tired.
“Now, here on I’ll just punish you doll, you can deny it and we’ll go off to sleep and deal with it another time or you can be a good girl, my good girl and take everything because frankly, I’m a little too mad to sleep right now,”
You looked into his words, it wasn’t a bad idea, particularly, you would of course never utter a no.
But then, you knew what it entailed, you knew how it ended last time, how embarrassing but then just how much you loved it too—a nod, all the affirmation provided.
“Strip,” a command from there on, “quick,” he added, eyes boring into your form as he did so.
And strip you did, it wasn’t anything new but just the way your fingers trembled, as did your thoughts as you pulled down the satin dress down—Suguru’s groan was loud, sounding throughout the apartment—your breasts well out easily, “No bra?” And you wanted to snort at the obliviousness of the question, of course, no bra.
“At least tell me you’ve got your panties still on,” you licked your lips, face warmed up at his words—it wasn’t anything new, but then why did that certain tone of condescension feel just so right?
Suguru held back another groan as the white g-string came to his view, the one that he bought, “such a slut,” he whispered.
Over the couch, he motioned you—the sound of his tongue clicking as you stepped forward.
“I’m sure only good girls get to be with dignity,” there on his face, he held a grin which you wanted to slap away too—but all to no avail.
“Crawl” everything in his voice assured you that a brat was not what he would appreciate tonight.
You stared at him blankly, “Now,” Suguru added, brows raised- a smirk wide on his face as you drop to your knees.
It was simply embarrassing, in the way your hips swayed a little as you moved, all that was your dignity remained flitted to that small piece of clothing that you knew Suguru would probably tear away.
Your gaze remained downturned, too ashamed, humiliated to even look him in the eyes—but just one glance and you’d see that amused smirk, the satisfied expression on his face as he took in the sight displayed for him.
You halted near his feet- a ginger lick of your lips, unsure, uncertain on the sequence to be followed, tugging on the hem of his pants in a confused manner.
“Hm? Don’t know what to do? My, and here I thought the big girl was all so smart to do as she pleased,”
You let out a loud whine at his words, startled a little too as he squatted down to your level—“sh,” he muttered, pressing a finger to your lips, “all I want to hear tonight is an actual apology,”
Another nod, tersely you snapped your eyes away, knowing that’s as all you could do tonight.
He hummed along as well, getting up and motioning you with a finger too, “on the couch please doll,” and you were sure what was to come here on.
Across the arm rest you lay, biting your lip—so exposed, so vulnerable and to think he hadn’t shed a single piece of clothing himself.
His fingers were gentle in the way they touched you, you knew he wasn’t mad—but you knew you’d also end up crying by the time he was done.
They traced you gently, over your back, feathery touches to your spine—tickling almost, he bent down just at that too, down to your ear, “Feeling ashamed hm?”
A hum was all to add to his words as you lay yourself easy, tension ebbing away with the way he massaged you—“you know,” he began, “you should be more ashamed of your actions, acting like a brat rather than being ashamed of your pussy and bare ass on display,”
Just at that you wanted the couch to engulf you, you knew that he knew you did—that was the purpose, “You deserve some punishment eh?” A squeal you let you as his pinned you inner thigh, pushing it apart—“should get your pretty little girlfriends too eh? Make em watch since all of you seem like a bunch of sluts to me,”
All in good humour, you reminded yourself, but a small pout found it’s way along your features, as it always did when Suguru got degrading.
“15 spanks,” he mused, “just pink enough right?” — the sentence was ended with another pinch, 15, you but your lip—there would be something more to it.
“15 and you thank me for each, yeah pretty thing? Your pretty head can do that f’me tonight?”
you bobbed your head, not daring to even turn your head and look at him once.
A patient quiet settled in, your body relaxed further—Suguru smiled wide as he looked at you, so perfect for him, “remind me why you’re here sweetheart?”
The sweetness in his vice was sharp still, condescending in every way, “b-because I uh- I…I was out late? Didn’t—did not call o-or inform you-ah!”
-smack!
Your words simply fell short as the slap landed hard on your ass, so sure to grab it right after and and squeeze—Suguru pulled back, and waited.
“Thank you, Suguru,” you sighed, and you waited right after, expecting the next hit.
“We can stop if it’s too much-”
“-I’ll take it, wanna be a good girl, please i-”
A sharp slap on your right cheek and then the left, aimed carefully, accurately proportional, “atta girl,”
“Thank you,” you groaned at his words, eyes clenched shut, surprised in the way he chose not to hold back in midst of your words—but then, typical Suguru.
Just so, many a times Suguru landed the flat of Palm down on your ass, dusty pink to a rosy one, the process was slow as your backside gained its hue, so pretty.
18 spanks in, Suguru never spanked just the amount he promised, always more—the 19th spank sounded like a crack against your warmed up ass, you didn’t bother showing your gratitude.
A small pause, Suguru chuckled, “nothing? Why don’t I just-” a sharp pain elicited in you bottom half as another slap sounded in the room- a hard spank on your pussy, just hard enough to have you gasping.
“Thank you,” you mumbled out—tears forming at the brink of your eyes now,, form slumping onto the couch, exhausted and spent, sore from the position he’d had you hold so long.
“Bet you are, especially from all this wetness,” another slap on your pussy, “getting wet from your punishment?” Another slap, the tears threatened to spill, at this point, “that’s how sorry you are?”
You wanted to scream at him, thatyou were sorry but it was Suguru and this conversation was nuts to begin with so you remained your quiet, the pout slowly turning to a frown.
“On the couch, legs wide apart,” scrambling to your feet, you detested the way he chuckled as you grabbed onto him for support, the booze never helped and the way you were all so sore from hefty time spent in that uncomfortable position, nothing helped at all,, but that was fine, Suguru was gentle in the way he helped you settle.
“Just a small inspection, ok doll?”
The words and the fate of it came crashing down on you fast.
You gritted your teeth at his words, you knew what that meant—he would find your arousal, shame you for it, punish you maybe and you loved the process, every bit of it.
Sprawled across the couch, feet planted to your side onto the couch, while Suguru rested in the place between, warm breath tickling you, making your hole clench around nothing.
“If I slip these panties down,” you’re weren’t sure why he even bothered asking, the wet spot was all so apparent, “will I find you wet?” Even so, you lay audacious—a shake of your head, his smirk widened.
Fingers hooked into the waist and of your g-string, he pulled quick, not a second wasted , he’d been wanting to do this all evening.
An amused raise if his brow, eyes stuck at the string of your juices that worked its way from your pussy to the gusset of your flimsy panties.
There, finally, in all its glory, your pussy lay glistening with arousal under his gaze—“liar,” he grinned as he stared at it hungrily, “such a fuckin’ liar,” he repeated, almost in a daze.
Subconsciously though, your hips rolled, almost lifting to feel his touch, another set of clicking sounds, “don’t act like a cheap whore, you think I’ll just touch your pussy like that?”
Your eyes watched him, confused, as they stared down at his form in between your legs, kneeling for you, hair tied back.
“Need to see if this pussy’s still worth it babe,” and soon enough, everything made sense—a whine of disagreement rose through you, a glare from him acted enough a filter.
“Please, I’m sorry-”
“-prove it doll,” was all he muttered as he dove his fingers onto your pussy, mindful to only cause discomfort as he prodded at your folds, no more or less.
“Let’s see…” he snickered, “gods,” he chuckled, “think I gotta clean all of this before I can even start eh?”
Your eyes bounced around ditzy, you wanted just him, anything—“but the question is do we do this the right way and I wipe you clean? Or…” and all before the statement even came to its end, Suguru had dived in, pressed his hot tongue flat against your folds, basking in the gasp that you let out.
A sharp inhale you took as he pulled away just as fast, his eyes stuck onto yours, “I think cheap whores like you shouldn’t get the better end of the stick so…” with that, you cursed internally at the box of wipes that Suguru and you kept on the coffee table all the time—you cursed as the pulled out three tissues with ease.
“It’s supposed to cause discomfort so be prepared for that but if it hurts or is too much, let me know, ok?”
You nodded at his words, nervousness flickering on your face and he chuckled, squeezing your wrist slight—little comfort that it provided.
The first dab was ginger, as if testing his boundaries, soon came the second and then the third—until Suguru was easily navigating and cleansing you, almost felt infantilising.
How so very humiliating indeed.
“That’s your apology hm?” The smile jo longer rested on his face, “look at only me when I’m down here,” he added, noticing the slight hang of your head and almost closed off eyes.
“Such a naughty girl that you are,” he mused, “am I to believe you got this turned on from a spanking? Or was it something your girls did hm?” A sharp smack that ended on your hardened clit, he stroked it a little while he was there, “how absolutely pathetic doll,”
Shame blanketed you slight, not covering all of what you wanted for you still remained absolutely naked and open on for him, a satisfied hum he passed, tossing away the second tissue after dragging it from your slit all the way down to your other hole.
“Now that I begin inspecting my girl,” he chuckled at the pout you’d held the entire while, “you brought this upon yourself baby,”
And you had, but particularly, Suguru did think you held up better than most times.
You watched as he eyes your pussy, unsure of how to embarrass you further—he grinned, “my my, it’s so pink underneath all that slick hm? Almost as pink as your sweet ass,” with that he landed a sharp slap to your ass, just as a reminder—giggling at your squeal.
Thick fingers spread apart your folds slowly, tracing it over your pussy lips—a tickling sensation, “is your cunt clean enough to be used hm?”
You let out a sigh as he pulled at your folds, making sure to not once lay a finger on your clit—yet accurate enough to just pull back the hood of it.
“Is it clean enough that I can use your little hole now as a cum dump?” His fingers patted down onto your bare cunt, relishing in the wetness that seeped out your hole—“maybe you don’t deserve it all hm?”
With that, Suguru spit on your cunt, the wetness only ever grew as he Smeared it around, “had to make sure,” he snickered mischievously, “that this pussy’s still mine.”
You wanted to whine and groan, shove his head into your pussy so he eat you until you cried—but you know, you knew all too well that any attempts would only get your hands tied and mouth gagged with your soiled panties.
Suguru hummed, snapping his fingers, “eyes on me doll—now, I think, from the outside, you’re ok,” he smirked, “but I’d need to check the inside too right?”
You nodded at his words mindlessly, of course anything he said would he correct, “you’re lucky I’m not mad at ya, would’ve made ya bounce on that dildo of yours till ya’ cried,”
And by now, your patience was running low—Suguru was a tease, apparent from the way your clit itself twitched for his contact, your hips rolled and hole clenched uselessly—you were dying to fight back.
But you wouldn’t, because Suguru demanded a good girl tonight.
A finger moved into you slow, very slow, hips bucked only to be pushed down harshly by Suguru at that—“Take only what I give you,” he warned, loving the feel of your walls clenching about his finger.
You were to watch him, sure but nothing mattered anymore as your head fell back—“please,” you whimpered, “just a little more.”
He smiled at the way your face contorted about his thick finger, slow as he moved it about, a circular motion and then pushing it against your walls before pulling away entirely.
The slick coated his finger just as before, only this time He brought to his mouth still, tasting you right there and humming.
“Good as always,” he muttered, eyeing carefully your ministrations, “please Suguru,” you cried out, “touch me p-please,”
Tricky slope.
Suguru was going to touch you anyways, of course he would but your statement only ever pushed away the ebbing orgasm he would’ve provided.
“Of course, my love,” he grinned—slyly before pushing in two fingers roughly into your hole—loving just how you gasped and mewled about it.
Then again, nothing mattered to you anymore.
"S-S—Suguruuu, harder... please. Moremoremore!" your begs fell in a hoarse voice.
“A sweet spot already?” A toothy grin he held as he pumped the two fingers into you slowly, loving the way your eyes rolled back at his touch.
Your thighs were spread out wide on the couch — raised now in the air as he leaned his body close, reaching knuckle deep and curling his thick fingers up into a gummy spot that made you shudder and grip a cushion.
"Ouh, Fuck! Sugu—"
“Ah, ah, ah, only apologies I said, right?” His tone was so soft even so, almost heavenly that you felt.
You pinch your bottom lip between your teeth as he hits deep strokes and massages his fingertips into your gummy walls— sticky juices are all over his hand because of all that cleansing he worked out of you earlier. Suguru smiled to himself, knowing you wouldn’t appreciate getting that couch wet with your juices in the morning—to hell with that.
You looked cute, as you gasped and moaned in his fingers—he took note of the ever present pout on your lips, oh how he wanted to fuck it out of you—but then, the mean thrusts diluted down to gentle strokes soon enough, boy was he soft for you.
Suguru was doting still, knowing that no way you could’ve taken his cock without prep—struggling with even his fingers tonight, he loved being bigger than you.
Bigger, faster, harder and merciless as they pursue your orgasm.
"Gonna cum and make a mess for me again? Yeah?"
"Yes! Please, pleasepleaseplease — make me cum!" you whisper frantically against him.
He chuckled when you moan, pumping his fingers faster and faster, fingering at your clit with his other hand to tip you over the edge.
“Nothing unless I allow it,” he announced finally, ah—that was why he’d been lenient earlier—gods how you hated him.
He studied you intently as your orgasm built up, if only that was his focus onto other things— maybe if he would have had the same determination in general as he does now when finding your G-spot, then he perhaps wouldn’t have struggled with daily life issues as much as he had to.
Suguru's dampened forehead rested against your thighs. He felt the radiating heat of your pussy in this proximity. Those dark eyes never stop staring at you, making sure you're as flustered as possible even in this pleasure-drunk state.
"Fuck... you're gushing..." he says in awe, " 'promise to lick my fingers clean after, yeah?" he rasps against you.
"Yes yes yes!" you say. He's pretty sure that you would have said yes to anything right then; you were so blissed by the way his fingers worked into your soaking hole, by the way they stretched you open just right.
The apartment was filled entirely, with the sound of your gushing pussy squelching with his thrusts—so tempted to attach his tongue onto your cunt but he knew you’d never be able to control yourself after that.
But to tease you was the goal—just slightly, almost a feathery touch he lay on your clit as he began rubbing it again, “shit doll, I do think your pussy’s worth turning a cum dump into,” you groaned at his words—mind almost mush as you chased your high, clenching at his fingers—until he pulled out immediately.
Until your high entirely ebbed away.
A confused and betrayed look you passed him, “wa-wait what? Suguru-! I-”
He simply giggled at your state, slapping your ass one more time as he got up and away, “you’re an idiot if you thought you’d be cummin’ t’night,”
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All of this work is entirely original and my own—please refrain from copying or reposting.
Likes and Reblogs highly appreciated!
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lees-chaotic-brain · 7 months
Text
For You (Gojo x Reader)
What if you were sealed instead of Gojo?
CW: Shibuya Incident spoilers, angst, not canonically accurate (just roll with it for the plot it doesn't have to make complete sense), swearing, so much angst
Part Two | JJK Masterlist | Blog Navigation
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Gojo knew that you were strong. He wouldn't have fallen in love with you out of fear if he didn't trust completely in your ability to return to him.
But that was before.
Before the shell of someone the two of you once knew and loved appeared.
Before he allowed himself to be distracted for a split second.
Before you noticed what was happening and shoved him out of the way.
Before you stood in front of him, hands bound behind your back, body rendered immobile.
"Well, this is an interesting development."
Not-Suguru clapped his hands together.
"Oh well, this will do too. Actually, we just managed to nab the strongest's only weakness: his love."
"Who are you?"
You snarl, glaring at your former friend.
"Why, I'm Geto Suguru. Don't you remember me? I'm wounded."
"Bull. Shit."
All Gojo can do is stare blankly at you, and pray that this isn't happening. That one of his worst nightmares isn't playing out in front of him.
"I know damn well that Suguru would never go out of his way to hurt us. He may have hated non-sorcerers, but even at the end he held no hostility towards us. So I'll ask you again. Who are you?"
"Satoru."
Gojo jumped a little, but quickly smoothed his expression over as you used one of your techniques to communicate telepathically with him.
"You need to run."
No! He wanted to scream. There has to be another option.
You continue taunting and yelling at the creature inhabiting your friend's body, and Gojo realizes that you are desperately stalling for time.
"Listen, I know you don't want to. But right now, you can't do anything for me without putting yourself in serious danger. I'm expendable."
Not to him, you aren't. For you, he would tear apart the world with his bare hands. For you, there wasn't a risk he wouldn't take. He has to find a way out of this. For you. Because there was no world where you were fucking expendable to him.
"You need to run! Now! I don't know how much time you have, but I know you can make it outside. You are the strongest after all. Run. Regroup with the others."
He knows that what you are saying makes logical sense, but he still can't wrap his mind around it.
Then you spoke again.
"No one should be allowed to take youth away from young people. That's what we agreed, right? So go. Do it for our kids. Protect their youth. For them. For our dream. For me."
Quietly, oh so quietly, he says something.
"I'm scared."
He admits, so quiet you can scarcely hear him.
"I'm not."
Your tone is gentle and loving.
"You aren't abandoning me forever. This is only temporary. I know that no matter what happens, you will get me out of here. Not because you're the strongest or anything. Because you love me, and I love you. And nothing can keep us apart, 'kay?"
Moving as much as your restraints would allow you, you turn your head the tiniest bit so you can look at him.
"Go. Go save our kids. I believe in you. I'll see you soon my love."
Holding back tears, Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer alive did the unthinkable.
Turning away from you and speeding up and out of the train station was the hardest thing he ever did, and will ever do.
But he did it.
For your many (unofficially) adopted children.
For your shared dream.
For you.
Always for you.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
This physically pained me to write, but it was taking up WAY too much of my brain space lol. Let me know what you think, and feel free to send in any requests you have!
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sttoru · 1 month
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hueheueheu if its okay can i req rich bf aventurine? Always spoiling reader and buys everything she wants 🥹🥹
✸ SYNOPSIS. your boyfriend, aventurine spoils you in more ways than one when you come back to your shared hotel room in penacony.
note. uhh, this actually turned out a tad more melodramatic than i expected help, i put some of my own twists in there. first aventurine fic so sorry if its too ooc !
tags. aventurine x female reader. fluff, bits of angst, suggestive. reader gets called ‘baby, pretty’. use of aventurine’s real name once. reader is a bit insecure at one point. little bits of penacony and aventurine lore / subtle spoiler to the 2.1 quest. wc: 1.4k-ish
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“c’mere, pretty.” aventurine’s voice soothes your weary body the moment you step into your shared hotel room. you’ve just gotten back from some business you had to take care of—a couple hours of your valuable day wasted because of it.
you’re greeted by your lover sitting on one of the red couches, accompanied by various bags and boxes all around the space. aventurine shoots you his signature smile. one that’s actually genuine. the one he only shows you.
“must’ve been tough, hm? i’m sorry i couldn’t help you out,” the blonde man sighs as he stands up to meet you halfway. a gloved hand finds its way onto yours, fingers intertwining without wasting a second.
aventurine places a delicate kiss on your palm and slowly moves down to your wrist. his beautiful eyes lure you in, “you’d forgive me for that, right?”
you don’t realise that you’re practically frozen in place until he chuckles in amusement. you snap out of it and clear your throat, trying to get yourself together, “y-yeah. i understand you’re busy ‘n all. it’s no problem.”
aventurine hums in response. there’s a faint flash of guilt in his eyes before it disappears like it was never there. like it was a delusion. well, perhaps it was. staying in penacony for too long causes you to have difficulties differing reality from dreams and vice versa.
“i’m happy to have you back with me,” aventurine pulls you closer by the small of your back. he presses you against him until your chests are touching. his breath is pleasantly warm against your bare skin, “i’ve been waiting for you all day.”
the tension in the hotel room is heavy. it’s like this every time you’re with your lover. the spark never dies between you two. it never will. you both need each other, in unspoken ways.
you avert your gaze to the ground. no matter how much time you spend with aventurine, his affectionate gestures never fail to make you melt into a puddle. maybe it’s in those eyes of his. or in his homelike touch.
aventurine continues peppering you with kisses. he doesn’t miss a spot—every patch of skin you’re showing is showered in his love. that’s one of the only ways he can illustrate those complicated feelings inside of him.
his lips eventually find yours, like a force drawn to a magnet. you cup his face and deepen the kiss. your lips move in sync, slowly and passionately. you need this as much as he does.
the way he’s holding onto your coat—his fingers digging into the material as if he’s missed you greatly. . . his tongue trying to seek entrance into your mouth as if he can’t wait to be one with you. to try and love you like you love him. . .
a light hearted chuckle makes you pull away. you open your eyes and find aventurine grinning down at you, his finger rubbing your bottom lip gently to tease you.
“haha, how cute.” the blonde man snickers at your needy expression. he knows what you want, and he wants it as well, though there’s enough time for that after, “we can get to that later, yeah?”
"aww, 'kay,” you nod with a pout, to which aventurine responds by gently flicking your forehead. he grabs your hand and leads you to the nearby table. you can’t even see the surface because of the numerous boxes placed on it.
“i want to show you what i got you first,” aventurine continues, sitting down on the comfy couch. he pulls you onto his lap and wraps one arm around your waist, the other one reaching out towards the mountain of fancy gifts.
you can easily recognise the expensive bags by now. aventurine is known for spoiling you rotten. the overpriced brands are nothing but child's play to the lucky man. money isn’t a worry to him, nor should it be for you, as he says every time you feel the slightest bit guilty for his big spendings on you.
“kakavasha..” you mutter under your breath. aventurine doesn't respond, but he reassures you by lightly tightening his grip on your waist. you turn your head and look at him. he isn’t looking back at you this time. rather, he’s looking down at the box in your hand, patiently waiting for you to open it.
you wordlessly undo the wrappers and open up the first gift of many. it’s an earring. one that resembles his. it shines brightly once you pick it up. the color is beautiful, as it reminds you of your lover.
you don’t know what to say. you don’t want to guess how much aventurine has spent on it either. you love him, that you surely do, but are you really deserving of this much? he spoils you every day. all that money he spends on you without hesitation makes you overthink.
you shake your head and try to get those negative thoughts out of your head. you don’t want to ruin this precious moment all too much. you smile fondly and put the earring on, “thank you so much. it's so pretty.”
the jewelry dangles off your left ear, the opposite of where aventurine’s got his hanging. the blonde man silently admires you. the light illuminating the stones gives you an ethereal look. especially in a dimly lit room with only a few light sources.
“no need to thank me, baby,” aventurine murmurs, his voice a surprisingly soft whisper. his thumb trails down the shell of your ear and eventually touches the earring again. the fact that you’re wearing the exact same one as he is, but on the opposite ear, is doing indescribable things to him.
you complete each other.
all his life, aventurine has never properly taken the time to appreciate his gift; his luck. he is doing so now—with you in his embrace. it’s like his surroundings have come to a halt. all that his eyes are focusing on, is you. the image of you in his arms.
“it suits you perfectly.” aventurine’s voice trembles lightly. he doesn't know why he's feeling like this. he’s overwhelmed by how lucky he is to have someone so breath-takingly beautiful in his presence. “gorgeous—you’re gorgeous.”
aventurine is not the only one who’s flustered. your own heart is pounding in your chest. your lover knows just what buttons to push to make you all flustered. he succeeds without fail every single time.
you lean your head against his shoulder and wrap your arms around his torso. aventurine welcomes the affection without a word. you look up at your partner with a softened expression before complimenting him back, “no, you are. you are beautiful."
aventurine’s eyes widen for a split second, his lips parting. you’s aware of the effects your compliments have on him. they make him feel giddy, however he also isn’t the best at expressing that. he regains his composure and grins, “oh, really? hah, how flattering.”
you giggle quietly and nod. you’re content with this. being in your lover’s arms after a rough day, unpacking the many gifts he got you, receiving his attention and affection. you wish you could do this for eternity.
after you’ve shared your precious moment together, aventurine leans agains the back of the couch and pulls you into a warm hug. one you both simply had to have. your lover starts to pat your head in a soothing manner.
the silence in the hotel room is deafening. the opened gifts and abandoned wrappers lay scattered around the table and floor. the static of the television in the distance is somehow comforting.
both aventurine and you realise that this instant will be over as soon as the next day arrives. it’s but a fleeting moment, one that will sooner or later be just another memory. you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck and he answers this by kissing your forehead. his lips leave a tingling sensation on your skin.
the comfortable silence continues for a couple seconds more. aventurine stares up at the ceiling. he’s sure that he’s satisfied for now, yet there’s still unease boiling in the pit of his stomach.
perhaps it’s due to his knowledge of the near future. his grande plan.
but, that’s not what’s important. not when aventurine can feel and hear your heartbeat right next to him. he hasn’t lost it all. not yet. he’s still got time to spend with the other gift that was bestowed upon him at birth: you.
“you’ll stay with me, right? no matter what.”
aventurine’s sudden question breaks the quiet atmosphere. you open your eyes again and tilt your head back, gazing down at your lover. one look at his face and you know that he needs your honesty at the moment. more than anything else in the entire universe.
you nod and lean in to kiss him—to show him that you mean it when you say; “yes. no matter what.”
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kafkasmuses · 3 months
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thinking of luke finding his best friend high at one of those parties they secretly hold at camp… 
semi inspired by murdrdocs’ blurb abt smoking w luke & princessbrunette’s blurb abt jj finding his innocent friend high!!
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typically luke never came to these, he was never really a party person, just until you’re texting him some sloppy words that barely make any sense— so now he’s weaving his way through the mess of trees towards the booming music in the distance. did they know how to not get caught? 
luke’s nose scrunches as soon as he gets close enough to make out where you might be in that bright pink skirt he always saw you in, his steps move faster, especially since you’re talking to some asshole from the hades cabin. his jaw shifts as soon as he plants his hands on your shoulders, pupils cinched as he glares at the man you’re speaking with. 
“oh, hey, luke!” you smile so sweet, a little too sweet, in fact, you smell.. he blinks once, then again, then again. to be honest, you don’t really remember texting luke, and it’s always a pleasant surprise to see him appear out of nowhere.
“hey, uh, lets go, yeah?” his hands are gentle when they move you to take a step or two back from the brooding man who clearly looks disappointed, if not a little agitated, with luke’s arrival. 
“but ‘m having fun, do you want to meet my friend? this is my friend—“ 
“yeah, yeah,” luke stares at the man for a second, “hey, dude, ‘kay, time to go.” 
“seems like she doesn’t want to,” the man suddenly speaks, and it should be a blessing from hades himself that luke doesn’t have his sword strapped to his belt. 
“seems like she does since she texted me,” his tone is firmer, a certain bitterness and bite to it, “should be lucky ‘m too busy to rip that smartass smirk off your face.” 
the last sentence comes out as a mumble as he gently guides you away from the party, having to take more of a precaution than usual since you’re stumbling an awful lot. god, how much did you smoke. 
“why’d you say that to him—“ 
“mmm, no reason— hey.. jus’ asking but, you didn’t get that weed from one of the guys there, right?” you seemed much more than just high, unless you smoked like, five blunts— gods, did you? 
“no, nono, got it from um.. lucy, she said it was reaaaalllyyyy strong but like— i only smoked a little,” he hums along to your non - stop giggles, failing to keep his hands from your shoulders since every time he lets go you nearly walk into a tree. 
“yeah, yup, jus’ a little, you know, uh.. you could always just ask to smoke with me,” he shrugs like it’s simple. 
“wooow, you smoke..?” you ask very slowly all of a sudden. 
“what, you think ‘m not cool enough to?” he tuts, steering you to the hermes cabin, which is of course, empty as it always is. you were sure the hermes kids were all dead by now since every time you’re in the cabin it’s vacant, well, besides chris, but he’s always glaring at luke and leaving to bother clarisse. 
“not what i said—“ you frown up at him, and he just nods, moving to sit you down on his bed as he inspects your face to make sure you’re solely high on weed— you really do reek of it, gosh, maybe he should spray his cologne on you. he doesn’t get more time to think before you’re pawing at him, “miss you, luke, talk to me.” 
he chuckles at the hazy glint in your eyes, “c’mon, princess, ‘m not the man for that job.” 
you hook a finger around one of the belt loops on his jeans, tugging him in closer, “what do you mean?” 
“‘m your friend,” it comes out hushed, breathy, “jus’ here to take care of you.” 
“so take care of me,” your eyes catch on to the bulge forming in his pants, a lazy smile curving your lips upwards. 
he pauses for a second, considering, before unhooking your hand from his pants and moving you to lay down on his bed, “time to get some beauty sleep, yeah? g’na get me in trouble if you keep acting out, princess.” 
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suguruplsr · 7 months
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Showing them how flexible you are !
✰ ✰ ✰ all you need to do is let your pretty body take his cock , no matter much he stretches you !
જ⁀➴ w / satoru , suguru , toji
,, fem! reader , folding , hand stand , public sex , quickie , choking , manhandling , dumbification , lemme know if i missed smth !
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✰ Satoru
“t-toruuu we need to teach!” you whimper at the feeling of satoru sliding in your cunny. you two were tucked in some random closet, one of your legs raised all the way up onto his shoulder while he held you against the wall. both of you were sweaty, rushed hands trying to find each others bodies before you lose yourselves, “t-they won’t notice if we’re quick, kay’ sweetie?” satoru stutters, slumping his head in your neck and giving you all of his weight, making you stretch completely to all of him. “b-but you’re makin’ a mess” you cry, and you couldn’t help it, his cock was practically snapping in you with precision that has your mind turning into mush. and you were sure you could hear the dripping juices from your cunt onto the floor. “c’mon baby, t-they won’t know it’s us. heh. worryin’ too much~” satoru grins, pressing firmly onto you to give a particularly harsh thrust that makes you forget what you were saying.
✰ Suguru
“this hurts su…” you huff out, your hands holding your legs all the way back, folding yourself in half while suguru towered over you, his cock pushed into you to the hilt. “didn’t you tell one of your friends you wanted me to fold you? j-just makin’ a dream come true sweetheart.” suguru laughs breathlessly, watching how your face contorts so cutely when he slides his girth out your cunt, “you weren’t even supposed to hear that!” your voice comes out in a whine, your nails digging into the plus of your thighs from how he began to pound into you, the sounds of your flesh meeting was so lewd. “eh? oh well, it’s happening now ain’t it? fuckin’ feels good too.” suguru leans down, sloppily kissing you and eating up all of your moans like it was nothing. one of his hands move up to your neck, grasping it tightly. it was so hazy, each plunge of his cock already had your eyes rolling but now you were completely shuddering under him. suguru smirks at your form, his cock is twitching inside you and he’s sure he’s going to try this again from how thick his load is going to be, “oh look at you pretty girl, so adorable. takin’ me like a champ..”
✰ Toji
this was down right perverse. all because toji deemed himself too tall to reach your pussy, so you had to reach him. you were in a handstand position on the couch, well not really from how your arms were losing their balance on the cushions and how toji held you up with his large arms around your thighs, cock slicking in and out your wet hole and occasionally slapping your ass when you squirmed too much. “you alright down there?” toji chuckles, responding to your muffled whines with a swift thrust of his length, “can’t— uh, do it anymore!” you manage to get out, your hands and arms were shaking, and his languid thrusts weren’t helping any much. you almost wanted to cry because you knew he didn’t intend to just fuck you, he liked seeing you writhe trying to keep up with his perverted ideas. “but you said you would. ‘i can take it all toji!’ ain’t that what you said?” toji mocks you, slowly rolling his hips at the sound of your sobs, “b-but s’too—“ “i hope my pretty girl isn’t complainin’ to me bout somethin’ she clearly said she could do..” he cuts you off with a sharp thrust, his grip on you tightening and holding you up when you almost fall, but that only makes the tip of his cock rub against your cervix. you whine in the couch as he keeps making fun of you, edging you on with little lazy thrusts. yea, he always gets what he wants.
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stuffeddeer · 4 months
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imagine mistaking beastzai as your usual dazai (you thought he wanted to be emo for a day) and like did usual silly cute things with him then dazai came home and he’s like HUH WHO IS THIS GUY R U CHEATING ON ME :(( but in the end you have… double boyfriends but one’s moody and one’s fucking annoying
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anons that think alike omg telepathy … use ur powers for good!!! two asks in one btw i feel so productive
alsooo beast!dazai would be giddy like a child to be in the main tl w his love… he’d be twirling you around and enjoying what could’ve been before he has to go back!!! all dazais are cringy and in love w u it's true they told me themselves !!!!
“What’s with the outfit?” You spoke bluntly, clearly a little put off by the reappearance of the black coat and red scarf. “Dude, you look like Mori.” Harsh, sure, but your boyfriend worked so hard to walk alongside you in the light, so the last thing you wanted was to see what would’ve been, if not for — 
Dazai smiled, seemingly amused. “Ah, love, it’s merely a costume. Thought you’d get a kick out of it,” he replies easily, pulling off the long red scarf: a staple of the Port Mafia’s boss.
His words help to relax you, letting out a small sigh as you push the coat off of his shoulders. “Let me grab you your coat, I know it’s around here somewhere…” You flittered about your shared apartment, pulling a backup brown coat from its spot buried underneath your closet. “This better suits you,” you speak under your breath as Dazai pulls it on. The fit seems a little… different. Is it somehow looser than normal? You frown.
“Thank you, love,” he repeated the same pet name. It felt as though he missed saying it, which doesn’t quite make sense.
You choose not to dwell on it — maybe seeing him in black again just rewired your brain for a moment. He’s alive and well in front of you and nothing else matters. A nod is all the reply Dazai gets before you slip on your shoes.
“I thought you might have headed to work early when I didn’t see you in bed this morning, but I guess that’s my fault for assuming the impossible,” you decide to tease.
Dazai easily slips behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin against your shoulder. “Mm… I love you, you know that? Let’s skip work today. We can spend time together, ‘kay?”
He’d always been unpredictable and spontaneous, so you merely laughed in response. “I don’t have work today, remember? But you still do.”
Shaking his head, he pouts — there’s the Dazai you love. “Nope!~ I refuse to go into work today. I’m spending my whole day with my love!” He practically jumps for joy, hands moving to gently hold your waist. “Let’s bake cookies.”
There isn’t much you can do, watching with an amused grin as Dazai unties your shoes before dragging you to the kitchen.
“It does not take two hours to make cookie dough…” you sigh, trying to jostle the white flour from your hair. “We baked cookies together, like, two weeks ago! How could we already have forgotten everything…”
Dazai grins, planting kiss after kiss on your cheeks, melted butter staining your skin from when he accidentally tried to drink from the cup you’d used to soften it. “Hard to remember much when I’m with you.”
“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” You chuckled, grabbing a towel from the counter to wipe both your face and his lips.
“Yep!~ It’s like.. my love is so pretty I can’t think when I’m around them! Oh, I could just die in… No! I don’t even want to die! I could live in your arms, grow old together and watch you get all frail and saggy,” Dazai speaks dreamily, swooning over the idea of growing old with you. How sweet.
You push him away gently and begin balling up the chocolate chip cookie dough, pressing it onto the silver pan you made Dazai buy when you first started staying over. “Saggy? No, I’ll be young and beautiful forever,” you joke, but Dazai only nods in response.
“It’s true! No one holds a candle to my love. Why, I wish I could spend every day just staring at you.” Dazai’s voice always sounded teasing when he was with you, but even as you put the last of the cookie dough onto the tray (only had enough to fill one, since Dazai kept spilling, throwing or eating the ingredients..) you could feel the genuineness in his words.
Oven preheated, you slid the sheet in to bake (making sure to start the timer) before turning to Dazai. Before you could get a word in, the front door to your shared apartment creaked open. Heart dropping to your stomach, you grabbed the closest thing to you: a whisk your boyfriend had licked clean. Said boyfriend only seemed to sigh, falling into a more somber mood, head hanging before he sent you a sad smile.
“I think the jig is up, love…”
Your name is called from the front door, the voice… suspiciously familiar. “Are you in there? You weren’t answering your phone and I got worried...” Dazai stepped into your apartment, hanging his keys by the door before turning around (an addition you made, since he tended to forget his and jumpscare you by picking the lock every few days).
The three of you stood still, no words spoken and the only sound being that of your metal whisk dropping to the floor. Spinning from one Dazai to the next, you wiped a splotch of flour from your shirt collar. You felt guilty for some reason, like you were at fault for not recognizing an imposter Dazai, and wanted to make yourself look more presentable.
“Awww, love!” The Dazai at the door pouts, throwing his coat on the floor as he quickly heads over to you. “Are you cheating on me?” He continues, slouching over you to impose as much of his weight as he can. You struggle for a moment, his bone crushing hug enveloping more than you expected.
Guilt still apparent as your tummy twisted, you shook your head. “I didn’t— “
The other Dazai, the one wearing a black tie and covered in various cookie ingredients pouted as well. “Maybe she’s cheating on me! I mean, I can’t believe my love moved in with another man…”
God, this was too confusing. You gently pushed Dazai A off of you, stepping back from the two. “I don’t— “
“I can’t believe this… I head to work early one time and now you’re making cookies for someone else!” Dazai A whined, face smooshed against the oven door’s glass in longing. “I’ll never be on time again! In fact, I think I’ll always have to be late.”
Dazai B pulled Dazai A back towards him by his collar, whispering obnoxiously, “I’ll share the cookies if you share the beautiful partner.”
Dazai A nods in approval, eyes closed and arms crossed like it was the easiest decision to make in the world. “I want half the sheet. And, I want a kiss…” He pouts towards you. Ugh, how annoying.
You deadpan towards the two, no longer feeling guilty. These two were just as much Dazai as they could get. Arms spread, you let Dazai A pull you into a hug so you can give him a proper welcome home kiss. “Both of you are obnoxious. Is that all I’m worth? Half a sheet of cookies?”
“Half a sheet of your cookies,” Dazai B grins. “That’s not something either of us would give up lightly.” The other Dazai nods in agreement.
Both of your stupid, annoying, clingy boyfriends tug on your sleeves, forcing you over to the couch so they can both receive your affections while the cookies bake.
the timer goes off after a while but they both whine about not wanting to let u get up. once you threaten letting the cookies burn they're quick to let go. i hate them both.
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rubiehart · 1 month
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your bsf!jj posts are to die for actually i think i love him. thinking abt having a cute little beach day with him and having to shower together (cause it “saves water and like the earth and shit”) after he has the smart idea of throwing sand at each other
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you’re standing under the soft stream of the water, little wooden latch on the shitty beach shower was broken, you were stuck using it after jj had the smart idea of kicking sand at eachother directly after getting out of the water. stupid.
reaching under your bikini and letting the water run in all the crevices that were now full of sand, no warning as the little wooden door swings open, you had no time to react before two strong arms were wrapping around your wet waist and moving you from under the stream.
“if you’d just excuse me just a second ma’am.” he says with a smirk, taking your place under the water, making it look a lot more appealing as he rolled his eyes back for effect. “mmmmm..’s sooooo warm…hey you wanna get in here or what? bet it’s pretty cold over there.” he quips with a shrug of his shoulders, no attempt at hiding his smirk as you roll your eyes.
“get your own shower asshole.” you huff, walking back under the stream nevertheless, letting it run over your hair, avering your eyes quickly from the water droplets running down jj’s tanned chest.
“got a little fire in ya today, huh?” and you smack his shoulder, clearly annoyed and he lifts a hand to his heart in mock offense. “okay- ouch.” he shakes his head like a dog splashing water everywhere. “‘m just tryna save water ‘kay? ‘s good for the planet n stuff..” he trails off, shrugging, running a ringed hand through his messy hair.
“it’s a public beach you idiot, and since when did you care about the planet?” you roll your eyes, as he shrugs with a grin, reaching to grab your towel from one of the hooks and putting it around his neck, pushing open the wooden door and strolling out of the shower. “that’s my fuckin’ towel jj!” you yell, one hand holding the door open as you watch him run back to the twinkie across the car park, slapping an angry hand up in the air and back down against your quickly drying thigh.
“finder’s keepers, sorry!” he chuckles as he races off, laughing hysterically as he watched you approach the twinkie, clearly freezing, the late evening wind whipping obnoxiously against your cold skin. your wet body slapping down onto the passenger seat of the twinkie as jj throws the towel at your face, still giggling at his own joke. you were so getting him back.
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noosayog · 2 months
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003 an unexpectedly sweet valentine
❥ warnings/content: kuroo tetsuro x reader, sfw, slight angst if you squint, mostly fluff, jealousy
❥ wc: 3.4k
❥ valentine's masterlist, regular masterlist
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“Good morning, senpai!” 
Your senior of one year turns around as he changes from his outside shoes to his inside shoes. “Huh? Oh, morning.” 
“It’s raining hard today, huh?” 
“Oh, yeah. Sure is.” 
“Did you bring an umbrella?” 
“Nah, forgot it.” 
“Aw, too bad! I remembered mine today!” 
“Good for you.” 
The conversation comes to a lull. Senpai stands there looking at you, as if to ask, anything else?
Somewhat awkward, you wave to him. “Have a good day, then!” 
He nods, turning away to make his way to his first class of the day. 
“Wowwww,” a voice from above you drawls. “That was a painful watch.” 
You swivel around to face Kuroo, your classmate. 
“Shut up, Kuroo,” you growl at him. 
“‘Morning Senpai! Have a good day Senpai!’” He mocks you in a high pitched voice. 
You give him a swift kick in the shins, satisfied when he bends over to cradle the spot. 
Kenma appears from behind him, shaking off the stray droplets clinging to his hair. “You deserved that.” 
“Morning, Kenma,” you snicker.
Kenma returns your greeting, heading off to his own class in the year below yours and Kuroo’s. 
A tap on your shoulder gets your attention. “Sorry about him. He’s just in a bad mood because of the rain.” 
“Kai-kun!” you greet. “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize for this idiot.” 
“Hey!” the idiot in question protests. 
Another head pops out from behind Kai. “What’s going on? Talking rooster head trash? That’s a conversation I can contribute to.”  
“Morning, Yakkun.” 
“Can we not talk about me like I’m not here?” Kuroo complains. 
“Shall we head to class?” Kai asks, easily ignoring him. 
“Yep!” 
“Hello? We’re all in the same class here!” Kuroo wails as he runs after the three of you.
In your homeroom, Kuroo, Yaku, and Kai all head to their seats as you take yours by the window. You greet your friends who sit by you, excited to ramble about your encounter with the cool Senpai from the basketball team whom you’ve recently developed a crush on.
“What do you like about that guy anyway?” your friend asks. 
“What do you mean? There’s so much to like!” 
She gives you a dubious look. “For example…?”
You start counting on your fingers. “Well, he’s captain of the basketball team, so he’s tall-”
“You like him because he’s tall?”
“He’s older, so he’s more mature-”
“Right,” she nods sarcastically. “Being a year older makes him so mature.” 
With two fingers up, you’ve run out of reasons. Your friend rolls her eyes at you. 
“Personally, I prefer the volleyball guys in our class.” 
“Kai-kun?” you nod empathetically. “I can totally see that. He’s kind and smart. Yakkun, too. He’s energetic and outgoing.” 
“Kuroo’s included in that group too, you know.” 
You wrinkle your nose. 
“What’s your beef with him? He’s tall, smart. Lots of people in our grade would say he’s funny too. He’s actually pretty popular.” 
You shake your head, “the most that guy has going for him is his friendship to Kenma. I can totally see someone getting close to him so that he’ll introduce them.” 
Your friend just shrugs patronizingly, like you’re beyond reasoning with. 
“Anyway,” you switch topics. “Senpai forgot his umbrella today, and it’s going to rain all day. I’m going to watch basketball practice afterschool and offer to share my umbrella with Senpai on the way home. Wanna come with?”
“Pass.” 
You shrug. “Suit yourself.” 
– 
“Did you hear that?” Yaku elbows Kuroo, whispering not very quietly.
Kuroo swipes at the elbow, rubbing his ribs and mumbling for Yaku to keep it down. 
“Damn, what’d you do? She thinks you’re such a loser.” 
“Gee, thanks,” Kuroo grits out. 
Yaku holds his hands up in surrender. “Just pointing out the facts.” 
“Hey, now. Let’s not be too hasty,” Kai cuts in. “It might just be a temporary infatuation with the basketball club guy. There’s still hope!” 
Kuroo groans and slumps forehead first onto his desk. Even when Kai is trying to be nice, it makes him feel so pathetic. 
When the final class of the day ends, Kuroo lingers in the classroom, still racking his brain for an excuse to keep you from going to the basketball club. He trails after you as you get up to leave the classroom. 
You’re taking a drink of water when Kuroo watches your friend shoulder into you a bit too hard, leaving you to stumble backwards, hands flailing to keep your balance. The uncapped water bottle in your hands goes flying into Kuroo, dumping its contents into the bag in his hands, containing the spare jerseys the volleyball team had planned on using for practice matches today. 
Kuroo drops the bag, arms coming up to support your back and keep you upright. 
When you’re stable on your feet, you quickly pick up your water bottle to staunch the flow of water, though it doesn’t matter much anymore given the jerseys are all soaked through. 
“Hey! What did you do that for?” you scold your friend. You turn to Kuroo, “thanks and sorry…” you trail off, not knowing how to remedy the situation. 
When Kuroo catches the wink your friend sends him, he catches on. “Aww man, now what’re we going to do for practice?” 
Yaku cuts in. “Oh, it’s fine. We can just use the spare-” 
Kai slaps a hand over Yaku’s big mouth, dragging him off towards the gym. “We’ll head to practice first. Why don’t you figure out the situation, Kuroo?” 
“Kuroo, I’m so sorry, but this was all her fault. Hey-” You turn to where your friend was standing, but she’s gone.
“We needed these for today’s practice. You’re just gonna have to help me out with the laundry to get these dried before the 3v3 drills then.” 
You pull a very displeased expression, mumbling something Kuroo can’t quite hear but is definitely a curse out of your friend. 
“Can’t I please make it up to you some other way? I have really important plans today.” 
Sure, as if trying to suck up to that basketball captain counts as really important plans. 
“All you have to do is toss these in the dryer and wait until they’re done. It’s the least you can do.” 
You offer a begrudging, “fine,” hauling the wet bag and following behind a triumphant Kuroo. 
As promised, it takes you less than an hour to dry the jerseys, passing the time by watching the volleyball club boys warm up and run drills. As you pull the jerseys out of the machine, Kuroo meets you by the locker room. 
“All done! Now can I-” 
“Man, it took too long to dry them. We had to restructure our drills since it’s too late to start practice matches now.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Look, Kuroo. I’m sorry, but I have no say over how long a dryer cycle is.” 
“I know. It just really put us in a hard spot, especially given that Nationals are around the corner…” he sighs audibly. “But it’s fine, I know it’s not totally your fault.” He sighs again. 
“Ok, ok” you give in. “What can I do to make up for it?” 
It takes all of Kuroo’s willpower to suppress a victorious grin. “Hmmm,” he pretends to deliberate. “Aha!” he exclaims. “You could be our manager until Nationals are over. That’d help the team and Coach Nekomata out a lot.” 
You hesitate. “Manager? Why don’t you just find a permanent one? Everyone says you’re all popular-”
“Everyone?” he smirks. 
“Yeah. Personally, I don’t really get it, but,” you miss the slight dimming of his grin. “I’m sure there’s someone out there who’d be more willing… I mean, more helpful than I would be.” 
“Figures that you’d try to weasel your way out of this.” 
“Weasel my way- wait just a second-” 
“It’s fine,” Kuroo cuts you off, turning around to leave you there. “You’re right, we’ll just find someone who’s more responsible.” 
“Hold on, Kuroo!” you grab the back of his jacket, pulling him back. 
This time, the grin on Kuroo’s face spreads in full force. 
“I’ll do it. I am not irresponsible.” 
“Great, you can start tomorrow.” 
You cross your arms over your chest, huffing indignantly like you’re satisfied that you’ve restored your reputation, your plans to be alone with basketball-senpai completely forgotten. 
Hook, line, sinker. 
Your job as the volleyball club manager is actually enjoyable. Save for the extended time you now need to spend in Kuroo’s company, you make friends with the rest of the team, especially the enthusiastic younger class. 
During lunch time, Kuroo will often request that you join Kai, Yaku, and him on the roof. 
“Why? I deserve freedom from you outside of volleyball club hours.” 
“Interesting that your commitment to taking the position of manager only extends to certain hours.” 
“What? Slander! I’m committed-” 
“We were going to discuss and review our plays from previous games, but I guess we’ll manage without you. Just hand me the notebook and we’ll review without you-” 
You stand abruptly, slamming your palms on your desk. With the notebook in question in hand, you storm past him, making your way to the roof access stairs without another word. 
“Well?” you demand when Kuroo doesn’t follow. “Are we going or what?” 
Kuroo grins. “Coming.” 
In your indignation, you fail to ever catch the grins from Yaku, Kai, and your friends. 
Sometimes, those lunches end up being just you and Kuroo, Yaku and Kai often being called away halfway through. Once all volleyball business is complete, you and Kuroo finish eating in relative peace. Often, he lies down to spend the rest of break napping. You tell yourself it’s too awkward to leave him there without a word, so you sit quietly to keep him company. 
One time, you had awoken to a sound of a camera shutter, realizing belatedly that you had fallen asleep on Kuroo’s shoulder. When you crane your head to face the boy in question, eyes wide and swiping at your lip in case you were drooling, you’re met with the usual smug grin on his lips, but his eyes are warm. Instead of smacking him and throwing a scatching remark, your cheeks heat up and you avert your eyes like an embarrassed schoolgirl.
When February rolls around, the entire student body is buzzing with the excitement of Valentine’s Day. You haven’t had any more development with basketball senpai, with your time mostly preoccupied with volleyball, but you’ve long standing plans to make Senpai chocolate. You’ve done research by asking around to find out that Senpai likes dark chocolate. 
“Have you thought about making the volleyball boys chocolate?” Mari asks you. 
“Yep, I plan to.” 
“And Kuroo?”
You choke on your water. “Why would you single him out? Of course… because he’s a part of the volleyball boys…” you trail off. 
Your friend props her chin on her palm, expression bored but the corner of her lips twitch. “Uh huh,” she says in obvious disbelief. 
Your inner turmoil is exacerbated when Kenma says to you, the day before Valentines, “despite his looks, he likes sweeter chocolate.” 
“Who?” 
Kenma just gives you a look, waving as he makes his way home. 
The following day, you show up to school, hands full with all the chocolates you made the night before. Each bag is wrapped in an individual baggie with a white ribbon except for one that is wrapped special, in a small box with red ribbon.
For Senpai, obviously. 
Your first stop of the day is your friend. You hand her a bag and she smiles, quickly opening it and popping it in her mouth right in front of you. 
“What do you think?” you ask. 
“Mmmm,” she closes her eyes, savoring the sweet treat. “So sweet. Milk chocolate? Weren’t you going on about how Senpai likes dark chocolate?” 
“I… made different batches.” you lie. You brandish the box with the red ribbon. “Senpai’s was made special.” 
“Still sticking to giving that boring Senpai chocolate, huh?” 
“He is not boring!” 
“Sure, whatever.” She peeks into your bag to look at the array of all the baggies you plan on giving out today. She looks up at the red ribbon box in your hands then back into your bag. “Just that one box? And it’s for Senpai?” 
“... yup.” 
“What was that pause?” 
“What pause?” 
She just rolls her eyes and turns back to her textbook. 
– 
“Did you hear that? It’s for the basketball guy.” Yaku elbows Kuroo’s ribs. 
“Can you stop elbowing me?” 
“That’s not important right now! She’s still going to give that guy chocolate!” 
“I know, I heard,” Kuroo hisses. 
Kai gives Kuroo a pitiful look that ticks him off. “What are you going to do?” 
“What is there to do?” Kuroo replies, keeping his eyes focused on the homework he has on his desk. “I’m going to grab a drink from the vending machines. Be right back.” 
He gets up to walk to the furthest vending machine in the courtyard. Maybe the walk and the winter air from the garden will help him cool his head. 
When he gets back with a can of tea in his hands, Kuroo sees you standing at his desk, where Kai and Yaku are still loitering around before class starts. He watches you hand each of them a bag tied tastefully with white ribbon. He lingers in the shadow of the doorway, watching Yaku and Kai thank you, then you walking back to your desk without leaving a third bag for Kuroo. 
He feels like he could use another walk right then, but the teacher catches him in the doorway and pushes Kuroo into the classroom to start class for the day. 
He makes eye contact with Kai and Yaku, who shake their heads at him, answering his unasked question. 
At lunch, Kuroo disappears on his own. He thinks to himself that he just needs the time to cool down, in fear that he’d embarrass himself in front of you by asking where his portion of chocolate is. He would feel bad enough if you just handed him giri-chocolate that you have everyone else. He would die, though, if you said you didn’t prepare him any at all. 
As he sits alone in the rarely frequented stairwell of the west wing of campus, he sighs. 
What does that guy have that he doesn’t anyway? Every conversation Kuroo has overheard between you two has been terribly boring. He gives dry, one-worded answers. He’s not funny nor particularly smart. He’s tall but so is Kuroo? Maybe he’s good at his sport, but Kuroo is taking his team to Nationals. He’s obviously not into you, whereas Kuroo himself? You get the picture. 
Anyway, he doesn’t think it very presumptuous to think of himself as a better match for you. The two of you joke and laugh together. You get along with his closest friends. Despite your sharp tongue, you seem to be comfortable enough around him. He reminisces of the one time you fell asleep on his shoulder on the roof. He had been wide awake and frozen solid, scared that even breathing too loudly would shatter the moment. He would never tell anyone that the photo Yaku had snapped of you drooling against his shoulder was saved in a password-protected folder in his phone. 
He sighs again, all the tension leaving his body as he lets himself feel all the feelings he’s been holding back. A heavy arm rests over his eyes, squeezing them tightly when he feels the sting behind his irises threatening to surface. 
Unable to pull himself together enough to face you in class, he ends up at the infirmary for the rest of the day, citing a headache. The nurse offers one of the beds and Kuroo gladly takes it, napping the afternoon away, a temporary escape from thoughts of you. 
The break is short-lived as he wakes up just in time for the last class of the day. Not even the prospect of his favorite subject, science, can improve his mood as he drags his feet to the lab classroom. He makes his way to Yaku and Kai’s table, not meeting your eyes. His teammates give him questioning looks but say nothing when Kuroo shakes his head and immerses himself in the lesson for the day. 
Class goes by even more quickly than normal and before he knows it, the dreaded time of day has arrived. He packs slowly, hating himself for wanting to eavesdrop on your plans for the rest of the afternoon. 
“So, what’s the plan?” he hears your friend ask you. “Volleyball or basketball?” 
“Not sure,” you reply. “Gotta go, see you tomorrow!” 
Kuroo watches as you hastily grab your things and leave the classroom. He ignores your friend’s prying eyes on him as he walks out after you. 
In the hallway, he spots you speeding away towards the shoe lockers. As he contemplates chasing after you, he hears a call of your name. 
Kuroo watches in mild horror when he finds that the voice belonged to the captain of the basketball team. His eyes stay glued to the boy who approaches you, all charming smiles and grinning snake eyes. The two of you are too far for Kuroo to hear your conversation but he can see your expression morphing into one of bashfulness. 
All his emotions spill over as the scene unfolds right in front of him in slow motion. He watches your hands dig into your pocket, making the motions to pull something out and likely hand it to your senpai. It all happens so quickly, but before he knows it, Kuroo’s grabbing your hand and dragging you away. 
Something - wind? His boiling hot jealousy? - roars in his ears, any protests you let out going right over his head. It’s only when the two of you reach the garden behind the gymnasium that he lets go. 
He freezes, back still turned away from yours.
It hits him then. He drops your hand like a hot potato, almost giving into the overwhelming urge to bury his face in his hands, crouch down so low that he’s buried in the ground. 
“Kuroo?” he hears you call tentatively. 
How was he going to get himself out of this one? 
So he does what he does best with you. 
Cower. 
He turns around, putting two hands behind his head to feign nonchalance. He forces out a laugh and in the lightest voice he could possibly muster at a time like this, he sticks his foot in this mouth. 
“You were gonna give your chocolates to that senpai, huh? You better be glad I interrupted and saved you the embarrassment of getting rejected in front of the entire student body.” 
You blink at him. “Excuse me?” 
“I mean, I really saved that guy back there. Knowing your cooking skills, you might as well have poisoned him-” 
A box thrown at his face interrupts him. He catches it before the fall to the ground, staring at the offending hand that launched the item. He then looks to you, thoughtless as your eyes begin to water. 
“They’re for you, asshole. If you don’t want ‘em so badly, go throw them away for all I care.”
As you turn around and storm off, Kuroo sees one of your hands coming up to rub angrily at your face. 
He gives chase once more today. It’s easy to catch up as he gets in front of you, face craning to look at you, to validate that he’s not going crazy and you’re really crying over him. 
You turn away stubbornly until Kuroo grabs your arms, holding them up in the air to trap you. 
“Let go!” you thrash. 
But it’s easy for Kuroo to keep them still, unusually quiet as he looks and looks until he gets his fill and confirms that he’s not dreaming. 
“They’re for me?” he asks. 
“Yes, you idiot. Do you wanna add deaf to your list of defining characteristics? It can be right up there with moronic, insensitive, stupid-” 
He chuckles; he doesn't even know where it came from, really. 
Relaxing, he lowers your arms back down but keeps his hold. “And are they the ones you made for all your friends? Or are they…” he trails off, staring into your eyes to get his meaning across. 
You cringe, neck shrinking to retract your face into your scarf. Averting your eyes, you mutter, “the second one.” 
He suddenly engulfs you in his arms. The squeeze he gives you forces a little squeal from you. 
“Oh my god,” he rubs his cheek against the top of your head like an overgrown cat. “You’re so cute, I could die.” 
Your cheeks feel hot as you repress the urge to smile. 
Instead, you mumble, “die then.” 
487 notes · View notes
persephonesdreams21 · 2 months
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NSFW Alphabet with Lee
A/N: I had to write something for him. This is the character that threw me into my Timmy obsession. Ugh Lee, my tragic handsome baby. I need everyone to write more fics for him kay thanks! Also side note- I try to keep my readers a little ambiguous so that everyone can feel included- but Lee and a chubby! Reader just make sense to me.
Warnings: Not safe for work. Smutty. Talks of Switchy/Bottom Lee. Lee x AFAB!Reader.
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After Care(what they're like after sex)
Lee is surprisingly gentle after sex. He’ll grab the towel from the hamper in the corner and clean both of you up with it. You were super embarrassed about it the first time he did it but like. It’s something he enjoys doing, a part of his inner routine. He wants you to open your legs and let him wipe you down. Then a lot of the time he wants you to play with his hair. Needy thing.
“Spread em” Lee drawls as he comes back from the bathroom with a wet rag. You’re still loose limbed and fuzzy brained and it takes a minute for you to realize what he’s saying “Seriously, I’ll clean you up”
“You don't have to, it’s fine” Your messy cum wet thighs clamp shut.
He approaches you slowly, like you’re a skittish animal that might bolt. You’re two seconds away from burying yourself under your thick duvet and hiding from him. Lee sits by your feet and reaches for you. His rough fingers run along your smooth calf.
“But I wanna. If you’ll let me”
Body Part(their fave body part of theirs, and of their partners)
Lee’s too skinny, his words not yours. All ribcage and gangly limbs. If he’d have to pick a favorite, he’d say his hands. They’re capable; he’s got long tattooed fingers and calloused palms from hard manual labor. He can build just about anything with them. He can take care of you with them.
Lee loves your thighs and what's between them. They’re so wide, so plush. You complain about cellulite and ingrown hairs and he’s just like? What? They’re perfect. Let me use them as earmuffs. He wants to be cradled by them forever. Loves your belly too any thing he can dig his fingers into.
Cum(anything to do with it)
Lee is into watching both his cum and your own drip out of your puffy pussy after an intense bout of fucking.
It’s almost routine now, like praying before bed. Like watching the sun rise with your morning cup of coffee warming your hands before work.
The sex with Lee is always good. Always surprising. There’s nothing this man won’t do to you, or let you do to him. It’s an adventure with your best friend, one that ends in you both writhing in pleasure.
With him filling you up.
You and Lee hadn’t been together for long, your six month anniversary’s just on the horizon, but if you know anything about this man. It’s that once he got the green light, he doesn’t finish anywhere but inside of you.
And then. Then he wants to see the damage. He wants to peel your thighs apart and stare right at your puffy, swollen cunt. Ah, his poor baby’s pretty pussy. He’s gentle as his bony fingers probe the tender lips. Spreads them-
There’s your hole. The one he’d just pulled out of, all tiny again now that it’s not stretched around his girth.
He watches hypnotized as milky fluid, both his cum and yours, leaks from inside of you. So much that your body just can’t hold it, no matter how hard you try.
You have your routines. Your prayers. He has his. His religion is right here. In between your legs.
Dirty Secret(self explanatory)
Lee loves anal play. On both you and him. This boy wants to be pegged!
“Have you ever done that?” He asks as he sucks on the end of the joint he’d rolled for the two of you. There’s no judgment in his voice, just curiosity.
The topic is anal. And if you’ve ever had it.
“Yeah” you bite in your bottom lip. “It kinda sucked if I’m being real”
You’d had an ex who’d shoved his prick up your ass and made you cry. He hadn’t even taken the time to properly relax or lube you up. It had kind of traumatized you to be honest. You tell Lee all about it, because you tell Lee about everything these days. There’s no secrets between the two of you.
He frowns, thick brows furrowing “nah, it’s not supposed to be like that. That fucker didn’t treat you right, it’s supposed to feel good”
You shrug “If you say so”
“I do. I love the way it feels whenever anyone does it to me” Lee says it so casually, but keeps an eye on you, gauging your reaction.
“Really?”
“Really” it’s factual, punctuated with a little nod “I’d let you try it. If you want. We can like- do me first and then I could show you how anals actually supposed to feel”
Your pulse picks up with excitement. You can feel it in your pussy, and you know the way you squeeze your thighs together to get any kind of friction isn’t discreet.
Lee pretends not to see but his smile is hungry.
“Okay, yes. I want to try”
Experience(how experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)
Um. He’s so experienced. With both men and women. Lee’s done alot in his young age. Had to, to survive a lot of the time.
When he realized you didn’t judge him for his past, that's when he really started to feel the emotional attachment form.
“You’re not a bad person for what you’ve done, Lee. Everyone’s done shit they’re not super proud of…it doesn’t take away from who you actually wanna be”
Favorite Position(this goes without saying)
He doesn't really care. But he’s partial to you riding him. He loves feeling pinned underneath you and watching you bounce on top of him.
Goofy(are they more serious in the moment? Are they goofy?
Lee’s a fucking goofball. He’s making you giggle. He’s choking on laughter as you choke on his cock. He can be serious, for sure. But a lot of the time the two of you are very playful with one and other.
Hair(how well groomed they are)
Lee never really cared before you, but he gives himself a courtesy trim now. Still a pretty thick dark bush. You kind of love it. You also do not play about personal hygiene- showers Lee. You’ve got to take them. You know there was a point in his life when he didn’t have access to them. Had to bathe in rivers and McDonald’s bathrooms- but that’s not the case anymore.
He tried to pretend he doesn’t like your expensive skin creams you share with him but you’ve got him hooked.
Intimacy(how they are during the moment? The romantic aspect)
Lee has had a lot of sex with a lot of people, but it’s never felt like this. He's addicted to you. He wants to be close to you, inside of you, like 24/7. He really cant believe he gets to be with you and alot of the time when he’s fucking you he’s just staring at you. In awe.
Jack Off(masturbation headcanon)
Lee’s always got a hand down his pants lol. He loves to masturbate. He loves when you watch him stroke his cock. He wants to watch you play with yourself too. It’s a whole thing.
Kink(one or more of their kinks)
Peg him. Also- mommy kink. Yes. Lowkey might have a thing for breastfeeding/titsucking. He just thinks your’re the most luscious woman he’s ever met…and yeah he does lowkey have mommy issues.
Location(favorite places to do the do?)
After fucking and being fucked on the side of the road or in dirty bathroom stalls, he really just loves having sex in the safety of your apartment. In your big cozy bed or the comfortable couch.
He also likes it when the two of you go camping or stargazing and he can fuck you under the night sky, with only the stars at witnesses.
Motivation(what turns them on? Get’s them going?)
You and that teasing little smile you give him. The one where your canines look like fangs. The one that's usually followed by coy barely there touches and feather light kisses. Yeah. All it takes is a smile.
No(something they wouldn't do? Turns off’s)
He doesn't want to hurt you. He’s hurt so many people before. He can't do anything past mild choking and spanking. He WON'T.
Oral(preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc?)
He loves it. Both giving and receiving. But he just feels so good when hes between your thighs. He’s your pretty boy when he’s sucking on your clit. PLEASE sit on his face.
Pace(are they fast and rough, slow and sensual?)
Lee wasn't used to someone wanting to take their time with him. It almost made him uncomfortable the first time that you slowly ran your hands over his body. Cherishing him. Savoring the closeness to him. Kissing every inch of his skin, not caring about scars or cheap tattoos. It makes him feel flayed alive. He learns to love slow paced, agonizingly tender sex.
Quickie(their opinions on quickies, how often?)
Hell yeah.
Like he gets home from a long day at his shitty grueling job he just wants to quickly fuck your brains out, and then watch one of your shared TV shows before bed.
Or when you’re getting ready for a nice dinner out with your friends, and your makeups done. And your hair is all bouncy and you smell good enough to make his mouth water.
Or in the car before an aquarium date. Lee will take what he can get when ever he can get it when it comes to you.
Risk(are they game to experiment? Do they take risks?)
Loves taking risks in the bedroom. Honestly once the two of you have built that trust between each other, there’s not much you won’t do. Lee’s a Sub leaning Switch(in my humble opinion) and will literally lay back and let you have your way with him. He doesn’t care. There’s no shame in his sex game.
Stamina(how many rounds can they go? How long can they last?)
He can fuck. Over and over. He’s like a rabbit.
Toys(do they own toys? Will they use them?)
Lee’s game. But then again he’s game for pretty much anything. He likes making you writhe on your vibrator, overstimulating you until you're sobbing. Have you made him wear one of your butt plugs to dinner? Yes you have lol
Trips to Sex Shops are frequent, fun affairs.
Unfair(how much they like to tease)
Lee’s a fucking TEASE. He's just too good at playing the game of cat & mouse.
Volume(how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc)
Lee is sooo vocal and you adore it. You’ve never been with a vocal man and he’s such a whiner. He’ll whine and grunt and beg. He’ll dirty talk you to the ends of the earth. He’ll call you Mommy, Pretty Girl, Sweet Heart. Babe. Sexy. It all makes your head spin.
Wild Card(a random headcanon for the character)
Lee wants you to fuck him. Wants you to hold him in your arms and play with his rim. Prostate massages are “awesome babe. Here. Let me show you how to do it”
X-Ray(let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Big thick cock on that twiggy man. A healthy 7 1/2 inches and girthy. The first time you see it your eyes nearly bulge out of your head. You guess its true what they say about skinny tall boys.
Yearning(how high is their sex drive?)
Lee’s a very sexual creature. Like in a primal way. Every interaction can be erotic with him and its honestly a little bit overwhelming to be around.
Zzz(how quickly they fall asleep after)
Lee has his little routine after sex. Cleans the both of you up, half assed sometimes, and then he’s out like a light. No seriously. Lee has been homeless more than a few times in his life(I was exploring. It was by choice! he’d protest when you pointed it out) he’s slept under bridges and in tents and surfed lumpy couches. You and your warm pussy and your lush bed knock him out.
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