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#this ​took me an unhealthy amount of time to make
tragicotps · 11 months
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yuiernie · 13 days
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do what, now? ⸺ CL¹⁶ ୨୧
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seeing a ˋcuteˊ trend go around tiktok and everywhere else, you wanted to try it with your boyfriend and f1 driver after coming across a post that convinced you that the trend wasn’t all that bad. though the idea seemed silly, he can't pass up the offer.
warnings ! : google translated french, oral (m receiving), blowjob, poorly written & not proofread
a/n : first post wowzers, this has been in my drafts for way too long as I was contemplating if it was good enough to post. . but either way, hope you like this blurb !! (this is so badly paced I’m so sorry) reblogs very much appreciated!
⸺ nsfw under the cut
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It’s been all over your for you page in TikTok. and not only TikTok, other social media that you have too. coquette this, coquette that— it was almost insufferable.
despite knowing the things that people post on twitter (at this point you were willing to watch the bullshit on twitter than see that stupid bow again), the unhealthy amount of porn in there, you took the risk and went to scroll mindlessly on twitter— hoping to escape the ‘coquette apocalypse’, (or what you’d call it) to try and find something else to watch other than the ‘coquette’ posts flooding your social media feed.
you came across a post, a young woman wrapping a pretty pink bow around their boyfriend’s cock. of course, you wanted to ignore this post— to not think anything about it. to be disgusted on what they’re doing. the only reason you went onto twitter was to escape the ‘coquette apocalypse’, not watch someone take a step further with that stupid pink bow you saw everywhere.
and yet, at the same time, you couldn’t help but get aroused at the thought of doing it with Charles. it wasn’t very often you could give Charles a good blowjob from how busy he was from all the races he had to attend as a f1 driver.
“you want to do what now, amour?” he says with a amused chuckle, glancing up from his phone— his attention now on you.
“. . can I wrap a bow around it?” you repeated, shifting slightly on your side of the couch, fidgeting with your fingers.
“why?” he looks at you amused, confused even— his phone turned off in his hand, setting it down beside him on the couch, his eyes taking in your nervous figure. you weren’t usually the one to indulge in sexual tendencies, what’s gotten into you this time?
“because. . why not?” it seemed like a silly idea, a embarrassing one even. but you couldn’t help yourself— not when you had the chance to give him a blow job. It wasn’t very often you had the chance to.
“what do I get from this?” he inquired, raising an eyebrow.
“a blow job.”
“deal.”
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you wrapped a pretty pink bow on the base of his cock, making sure it wasn’t too loose for it to fall off but not too tight to squeeze the life out of his dick.
“you done yet?” he uttered impatiently, spreading his legs a little wider— his arms slung behind the couch.
“be patient. . I’m trying to make it look pretty.” you hummed, your fingers grazing the angry red tip purposely, his cock twitching slightly.
“why do you need to make it look pre— oh. .” he trailed off as you kissed his tip, his head thrown back with a quiet groan.
you licked a long strip of his dick, taking him in your mouth carefully— one of his hands slowly found the back of your head, pushing your head further to take him in more, causing you to gag slightly.
your fingers wrapped around his base, stroking it slowly. Your mouth struggled to take all of him in, but with the breathy grunts and moans that were slipping out of his lips? It was all worth it.
“ah— fuck. .” he hissed, his hand pushing your head further, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat.
“ça va si bien pour moi, (doing so well for me)” he sighed shakily, his cock twitching inside your mouth at the sight of you taking him so well.
“me prend si bien. . (taking me so well)” tears streamed down your cheeks, hollowing your cheeks, taking more of him in your mouth— basically deepthroating him.
he grunts, jerking his hips up, head thrown back. his vision was blurry, lips parted— shaky sighs and breathy grunts slipping past his lips, as he grips your hair, using your throat for his own pleasure.
“fuck— I’m close.” you manage to pull out a quiet whimper out of him, his breathing getting heavier, signaling that he was oh so close.
sooner or later, pleasure washed over him as his orgasm hit— the familiar taste of the warm liquid flowing down your throat.
he sighed, taking in deep breaths as his hand slowly released your hair. You pulled away from his cock, swallowing every single drop and licking your lips. you looked at his cock, the bow still attached on his cock, despite it being a little loose.
maybe you were just being too much of a hater.
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 8 months
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Daddy Dom!Simon "Ghost"Riley x Bratty!reader
Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon "Ghost" Riley
Summary: As a new recruit, you should not have the gall to talk back to your superior officer like you do. He's tried it all, trying to work the insubordination out of you, but to no avail. Your antics have really gotten under his skin lately, but is it really because you won't listen and follow orders...or is there something more to it that he can't admit? The way his cock throbs might indicate the latter and what he thinks about as he touches himself might just speak to that as well.
Author's Note: As we wait for the next part of Lieutenant's Whore, have this as a treat! Something I just whipped up quick as I couldn't get the thought out of my mind 😏😘
Word Count: 3.3 k
Warnings:
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Part 2:
Fucking hell, what was wrong with him? Something had crawled its way under Ghost’s skin today, sticking with him through to the evening now, and no matter how he tried to push the thoughts into the back of his mind they only seemed to lodge themselves more permanently in the foreground. No distraction or mundane daily task that took even most of his focus could ease the impact of influence on his mood as the thoughts constantly assaulted his mind. Even now as he stood in the bathroom of his private quarters, his anger at would not cease.
The screech of the shower handle turning sounded just beneath the heated phrases being whispered under his breath, the pipes coming to life with the distinct hiss of water as it pelted the floor of the shower. An earlier altercation had Ghost in a goddamn tizzy, his pulse elevated and his heartbeat in his ears as he undressed; perhaps being doused under the steady flow of the water would wash it all away.
“Fucking bloody slag,” he snapped as he pulled each article of clothing off one by one and dropped them onto the cool titled floor around his feet. Even his customary face covering he removed, wrenching it off and up over his head without a care as he was too absorbed in his rage which made everything feel far too binding. “Thinking that she can just speak to me like that. Goddammit, she knows exactly how to push each and every one of my fucking buttons.”
This wasn’t the first time he had encountered this very same problem, though this was the first time he had such a raw, visceral reaction to it. Usually he would let the disrespect go once he was away from the source, but today it just seemed to linger in an unhealthy amount until the Lieutenant could not see straight; his vision was only red.
He had not realized how much his skin was burning until he stepped under the stream of cool water, his chest getting hit first and making him grown at the sudden change in temperature. The soothing liquid rolled down the front of him, snaking its way through the shallow cracks left in his skin by the scars scattered across his pectorals and down his torso, but it did little to calm the fire still raging steadily inside.
The day you showed up on base with the newest set of recruits he knew by the way you unashamedly held his gaze when the others had immediately flinched and did not cower whenever he barked his orders would mean trouble and he hated to be right. Try as he might, there was no getting through your snarky, self-assured cocky attitude and most of his days were spent metaphorically pulling out his hair as no matter how many drills he had you run or sets of pull-ups or push-ups he had you complete, you could not be disciplined into obedience. A bitch like you was not easily broken and why you had not been discharged yet was a mystery; you must be more than worth the trouble.
A bawled fist slammed into the side of the shower, the percussive sound echoing and vibrating off the tight walls. “What the fuck is wrong with her?” he questioned aloud to no one. “Why can’t she just fucking listen, the little cunt? Why does she always have to pull that fucking shit?”
The wetness splashed over to his back as he took a step forward under the shower head, the engorged beads of water slithering their way down the curves of the muscles lining his shoulders and following the path to his ass and on towards his thighs and calves. Both of those bulky hands palmed the wall before him, allowing him to lean his torso forward and get the full length of his back under the water as his head hung limp. Heavy breaths, each one just as laboured as the last, continued even as he counted the water droplets falling down off his back and into the bottom of the shower as a way to ground himself, watching them slowly gather and swirl down the drain.
“I’ve tried it all,” he reassured himself, though even as the words left his lips, he knew that wasn’t entirely true. There was a whisper of a thought that reappeared just now that perhaps illustrated his true feelings about this problem. “Well, not exactly all.”
There was a spark of an idea that had appeared some weeks ago, one that he had not completely allowed himself to delve further into, one that had slunk its shrewd way at the edge of his thoughts. It had caught the cool and collected officer off guard at how his mind had conjured such a filthy concept… or that he did not outright despise that his imagination had led him there.
That exact day it happened he remembered well. The blazing sun and humid atmosphere had led to everyone being on edge, their bad attitudes matching the rising temperatures, and that meant the crude, underhanded remarks and balking that was a part of your usual repartee became even more grating on the Lieutenant’s nerves. With jaw sore from clenching so hard, the anger had finally reached its peak when you had told him to "make you" and with enough fury to make his presence suffocating to anyone within range, he stepped up aggressively into your face for the insubordination. There, standing with mere inches between you, your eyes ablaze with a fury for everything from the weather to the man barking orders before you, it happened.
It very well could have been the proximity of your bodies, the intense, dizzying heat, or the way the sweat around your neck slipped in glistening trails down your chest and caught his bird’s eye view as it nestled between the tops of your breasts. Maybe he had simply lost his goddamn mind due to the weather or the long hours he had been working lately or a random intrusive thought that caught him by surprise; whatever it was he could feel a stirring within the crotch of his pants in a sensation he had never felt towards you. His entire form froze in that moment and he was unable to do anything except stare straight ahead, even though the voice in his head was yelling at him to get it together, he paused long enough that by the smug expression on your face you felt you had gotten the last word and that was dangerous for him. The near two hundred push-ups forced upon you after that went by more easily than he would have liked; it was clear that that euphoric feeling you had from seemingly winning in that battle of wills against him was enough to see you through the strain on your arms and the pounding in your chest from the exertion of your punishment.
It was after that day that Ghost noticed a few strange happenings that only added fuel to the fire that had sparked to life inside him. Had your shirts always been so fucking tight or was it just the way they had always fit across your torso, pulling and straining at your chest as if it could barely contain it? Had your lips always been that juicy looking or were you just staying extra hydrated and he only caught you just after taking a drink so that your mouth mimicked another pair of lips that lay much, much lower down your body? You did not let up on your usual behavior of driving him up the goddamn wall, but did you always stand this close to him, brushing up against him randomly and somehow constantly bumping your plump ass on him whenever you bent over? It was believable as only an accident the first time it happened, but after he had to wonder.
And it only infuriated him more that the longer this went on the more he could not get you out of his head.
“Fucking slag, she probably does that shit on purpose just to screw with my head,” he growled angrily. His spine lengthened as he moved to stand up straighter, wiping the stray beads of water that had fallen into his eyes. The idea that had been born that day crept back into that devious mind of his once again and he chuckled maliciously as he indulged it a little. “If I had it my way, I know exactly how I’d like to make a little princess like her come to heel. She would regret ever trying to get my attention, especially when I fucking give it to her.”
Whenever he thought of you before this, it was with his teeth gritted and his fists balled so tight that his short nails cut into the skin of his palms, so what had changed? What right had his mind to pull this bullshit? Sure, the streamlined curves of your hips visible even through your bulky fatigues and the fullness of your perky tits were enough to draw even a lingering eye from time to time, but that was a far as he had allowed it to go until now. Now his thoughts were constantly on traveling back to those soft lips of yours and how he would kill to see how pretty they’d look wrapped around his cock or how he'd like to take you over his knee and spank that taut bare ass of yours until his handprintnwas fully visible, red and angry against your supple skin. Even the thought of your pussy entered his mind as it would probably be so tight it could barely be able to take all that he had to give. Bitchy girls always had the best equipment.
“I’d stuff that little cunt so good, she’d never fucking disobey me again; make that mouth useful for something else other than swearin at me,” he smirked with a flash of his teeth as he could not stop the progress of his thoughts. “I’d keep her dicked down nice and proper until she’s followin me around like a lost pup beggin for a treat.”
Moving his head back so that his thick neck and pecks were now exposed to the water, he could not stop the onslaught of his imagination from drawing out this thought further. Pandora’s box was now open and there was no shutting that shit down. Ghost closed his eyes as he conjured images of the way he’d drag you to his room and rip you out of your fucking shirt, taking those beautiful, soft breasts into his mouth to bite, lick, and suck at the bright pink nipples that would be stiff as his mouth claimed them. Shite, how velvety they would feel between his lips, how pliable they would give in his teeth. He’d make you undress quickly the rest of the way for him under threat of punishment if you didn't follow orders and drag you to the shower to pull you in with him, your naked body slamming up harshly up against the wall of the shower as he overpowered you with his much larger one. He pictured your bare chest, the water flowing over the crest of your breasts as he picked you up just enough that your legs could wrap themselves around his thick torso to secure you to him before he thrust harshly and buried himself within you. What sounds would you make as he plowed through your petals and into your entrance? Would you whimper piteously as you folded like a good little girl; would you cry and swear out loudly as his girth stretch your core to capacity so that anyone within earshot could hear you taking him?
There was so question that he’d fuck you so good, making your back constantly slip and slide around all the damp surfaces as his overwhelming thrusts pounded into your cunt over and over again with a vigor that would not let up until that burning desire that has been building for weeks could finally be satisfied. A shiver ran up his spine as he imagined your finger nails clawing at his back, leaving read, angry marks as you held on for dear life. How they’d sting as the water washed over them; oh, it would hurt so, so good. The brief fantasy left his hand trembling and had his phallus springing to life with a sudden tightness that made him breathless.
This is how it had been since that day, though he had done everything in his power to not touch himself; if he did he knew that would mean his ruin. But that deep ache throbbing down below just between his legs was more than he could handle anymore and now that he had allowed himself to fantasize about what he could have, there was no getting rid of it expect by taking action.
His large hand moved down past the sparse light brown hair that covered his abdominals as it trailed down his body, the skin was already nice and lubricated from the water running its way down the length of him. Taking his lower lip between his teeth he bit down with a whimper as his long, calloused fingers brushed against the tip of his tender, engorged cock before he was able to take it fully into his grasp.
Goddamn what he would have given in that moment to make that fantasy a reality; he would have sold his soul to Satan himself for the feeling of you clenching down around him right now as his own hand paled in comparison to the fabricated assumptions in his mind.
"Fucking bitch, you’ve put me under your spell," Ghost growled in a raspy whisper, as if insulting you would somehow make his desperate need of you any less pathetic to himself.
Putting pressure in his grip he began to rub his length from base to tip in steady, even strokes. Deep, guttural grunts began to fill the bathroom as that beefy forearm worked itself forward and back over and over again. Goddammit he was so hard and tender it almost hurt to touch.
His mind's eye wandered back to visions of you perched on top of him now in his bed, riding him desperately into the scant bit of plushness he called a mattress, as his greedy hands clasped around your hips to force you to bob up and down on his dick as hard and as fast as he wished. Faster and faster he’d make your body work for him, shoving you as far down onto him as he could until your hips were grinding into one another; his perfect fuck toy. You’d be so out of your mind with evstasy, would you be able to form words? No, you’d only be able to muster a few simple mewls as he hit that perfect little button of pleasure inside you time and time again.
“Got you quiet now, yeah,” he groaned desperately at the vision as he licked his hungry lips. “You like that, princess? So fucking full on my cock you can hardly think straight? Come on now, use your words sweetheart. Tell me how much you like it; you’ve never had a problem speaking up before."
The imagined music of your moans emanating from your open mouth from his cock being buried deep within you made his skin tingle like an electrical current. The drawn out strokes from his hand began to become more sloppy as the images continued to flood their way into his thoughts. Again they wandered to conjure even more depraved things as he pictured himself taking control in the moment, grabbing you around the throat and flipping you on your back as he pinned your arms up above your head. He’d hold secure those slender wrists together with just one of his large hands so that he could have free reign to do whatever he wished without your interference. There would not be a single piece of flesh that did not know how he felt.
Ghost’s pace again quicken. “A-ah, fuck….!” he hissed. He was certain you had probably had guys before him, it was obvious a woman like you knew what she wanted, but there would absolutely be no one after; he’d make sure of that by leaving his mark anywhere he thought someone who try to touch.
His breathing faltered along with his strokes as he imagined hurriedly switching positions so that he would not have to pull out for long, propping your legs up on those broad shoulders so that he could push deeper into you down to the very end of his shaft until there was nothing left to give. Oh, the way he knew you would whine and buck against him as he bottomed out inside of you, but there would be no backing out now. That cunt now belonged to him and only him as if it had 'Property of Simon' tattooed across it.
Ghost had to swallow the saliva in his mouth that had gathered from that delicious bit of imagery. “Take it, take it all, sweetheart,” he panted. “Every last goddamn inch like the filthy fucking slag you are. That's it.”
You’d be whimpering, begging him to stop as the tears gathered in the corner of your eyes from the over-stimulation being almost to much to bear. So full, you’d be far too full with him and yet to really stop would be catastrophic as that delicious pressure setting you on a one way course directly towards your immediate release would end and that would be a far worse crime. He knew you wouldn’t want him to do anything except keep the rhythm steady and that is exactly what he intended to do, though he would wipe away a few of those stray droplet’s with his thumb as he continued to plow you; he was a gentlemen at his core after all.
“Look beautiful like this, luv,” he groaned under his breath. “On your back getting absolutely wrecked by me. Cry all you like, you know you can't get enough.”
Again he pounded his free fist into the side of the shower wall, this time from being so close to blowing that he could taste it in the back of his throat. More aggressively he yanked at his cock, the wet, sloppy sounds from skin working over moistened skin were loud and distinct over the sound of the running water from the shower head. That familiar fire was right there in the pit of his stomach as he envisioned the way you’d bear down on him as you came, fluttering around his cock as your orgasm overtook you in a violent burst that threatened to rip you apart.
“That’s it baby, that’s…it,” he stumbled over his words. It was there, right there; just a bit more and he’d be painting the walls.
The envisioned sound of your voice crying out his name in the throws of ecstasy was all he needed to finally finish with a bang. He grunted as the cheeks of his toned ass clenched while he milked every last fucking bit of cum that he could from himself. Knees began wobbling as they nearly buckled out from under him as the intensity of his release took all his strength and he had to brace his forearm against the wall to stop from slipping as the stroking of his hand slowed until it came to a stop. That arm propped up the exhausted mess of a hulking man as he breathed through his orgasm, wanting to ride out every last second he could.
The fruit of his endeavors were rinsed down into the bottom of the shower and were quickly whisked away, removing any evidence of the filthy thoughts that had plagued him minutes before, though their ghost still lingered in the back of his mind as if he had just awoken from a very good dream. There was a part of him that wished that all his desires for you had been sucked down the drain along with his cum, as this was certain to become am issue in a short amount of time, but he knew he would not be that lucky.
He craved you in a most unholy way and that meant at some point this little problem was going to come to a head. There was no telling what would happen to him when he saw you next now that he had entertained the full extent of his fantasies, but one thing he did know was that if there was a way to have you just as he wanted, he would find it...and God fucking help you when he did.
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silkscream · 5 months
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tender is the flesh
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ੈ✩ synopsis: in which you're the only thing that can make the strongest sorcerer of the jujutsu world weak.
ੈ✩ cw: smut (minors dni), angst, yandere-adjacent gojo (he is so obsessed with you), religious imagery, unprotected sex, dom/sub dynamics, body worship, lots of biting, dacryphilia, possessive gojo
ੈ✩ wc: 2.5k
ੈ✩ a/n: [giggles nervously] gojo really went feral mode in this one! honestly this had more angst in mind because i was feeling So Horrible and then when i started writing the smut... someone else took over. anyways gojo is so obsessed with you that it might be a little unhealthy. like wants to live in your skin unhealthy. i think i actually wrote that word for word in the fic that's how down bad he is. runs away
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gojo satoru won’t admit it to anyone, but he’s started to consider you an extension of himself. the missing piece, the phantom limb, however the cliche goes. even when he had ended things for the better, the ache would never dissipate until he found you again.
out of his own selfishness, he did.
once gojo had made up his mind that he was in love with you, he thought peace would come along with it. it did, in some aspects — your presence often acted like a summer breeze that eased his nerves. the warmth of your smile shined brighter than the sun.
and then other times, being in love with you was a new kind of violence. it churns in satoru when he’s alone, knotting in his stomach like a caged beast.
he knows you aren’t delicate. he’s watched you in all your beauty, all your bloodshed surrounded by the slain bodies of cursed spirits. he has held your calloused hands in his just to feel the pulse on your wrist. it’s a habit for him now whenever he touches you.
he has softened himself so much for you that he’s terrified to know that you’ve seen him in battle. he often wishes he could hide that from your memory, maybe make it disappear completely — the sadism that sparks in his eyes when he’s busy with his hands against curses and curse users.
he can’t suppress that violence within him — the one raging at him to leave you, ruin you, kill you. (he’d much rather you kill him, instead.)
right now, the sound of your even breathing is all that fills satoru’s ears despite the dread in his chest. when you twitch the slightest bit in your sleep, he has his arms around you in an instant, chin rested on the top of your head.
“satoru?”
“mm? thought you were asleep, baby.”
you nuzzle your nose into his bare chest. he can feel your eyelashes flutter against his skin. he chuckles when he notices you’re trying to adjust to make your face level to his.
“have you been awake this whole time?”
“uh… yeah,” he sighs. he doesn’t have an excuse this time like he usually does, but he’d rather die than relay his late-night thoughts to you out loud.
“can’t sleep?”
“i should be asking you that,” he chuckles. he tucks a stray strand of your hair behind your ear and moves to comb his fingers across your scalp just the way you like. the feeling of it makes you shiver.
“i was having one of those dreams,” you whisper. “the ones where i’m like, half awake. and you’re there, holding me.”
“yeah?”
“mhm. and then i tried to adjust so i could kiss you, and… and then you disappeared.”
“i’d never disappear on you.”
but you did. you don’t say it out loud, because you don’t blame him for trying to leave you the way he had months before.
he’d told you once that being with him was a death sentence in itself. it took a great amount of sacrifice and carnage for him to realize that you would never let that happen by your hand. he had discovered it in your bloody hands and the shallow breaths you’d taken after countless missions.
“i’m glad it wasn’t a nightmare.”
“what do you mean?” you coo, your big eyes blinking back at him. “not being able to kiss you sounds like a nightmare to me.”
he lets out a breathy laugh. he replies by giving you a peck on your hairline.
“satoru.”
“yes?”
“do you ever get nightmares?” you yawn.
it’s an innocent question. satoru is more likely to say no, because usually he has a dreamless sleep. he hasn’t gotten nightmares since suguru died, and even then, satoru has seen more gore and split limbs than a normal man should. he also recognizes that he isn’t a normal man.
“never. not when i get to sleep next to you.”
“right. six eyes isn’t afraid of anything.”
“that’s not true.”
“oh, yeah? what scares you, then?”
he holds your chin in between his fingers and his thumb.
“you, honestly.”
“me?” you giggle in genuine surprise.
“yes, you. i don’t think you have any idea of what power you hold over me.”
“says the strongest sorcerer,” you tease, rolling your eyes.
“i’m serious,” he mutters. “it’s terrifying, really. sometimes i want— i want you so selfishly. to own you. you’re so—”
“i’m what, satoru?” your voice is a wavering murmur now. he’s sure he’s scared you now.
“completely unprecedented. it’s fucking ridiculous.”
he would tell you he loves you, but that would make it real. real in the sense that those three words are an incantation that would most likely lead the both of you towards doom. despite already hurtling towards it, he prefers to delude himself by telling you in a million different ways that you make him weak.
he’s already accepted his spot in hell. on the other hand, you are too heavenly to accompany him, so he’ll keep you in this lifetime.
satoru rubs his hand on the soft skin of your neck and shoulder. in a certain lens, it’s innocent and loving. nurturing, even. but you know better.
gojo satoru sees you as his other half, as a necessity to the very fiber of his being, and he still wants to wreck you.
he dreams of it often. he usually has you tied up in red rope, something soft and pretty and comfortable. he likes the image of you docile, your skin so supple and malleable underneath his large hands.
you curl into satoru because you know that’s what he craves. you exhale into his collarbone and he thinks he might just lose his mind.
“you’re weird, six eyes.” there’s more that you want to say but you don’t know how to piece it all together in a way that makes sense. all the desire crawling out of your throat comes out in hushed breaths.
“i’m horrible.”
“no,” you grin. “just weird. but i like you that way.”
admittedly, you are on the brink of sleep. meanwhile, he is on the brink of imploding into himself if he doesn’t feel your touch. so, of course, he takes matters into his own hands.
you barely question it when satoru touches his full lips to yours. luckily for him, you don’t mind, either. he’s more than ecstatic to feel you melting into his body as you kiss him back, his tongue pillowy as it teases yours.
you’ve done this before with him plenty of times, but it would be a stretch to say that you’re particularly used to it. in every way, his mouth anywhere on your body makes you feel electric. in your sleepy haze, you accept it, because you’re convinced you’ve never felt anything better.
when his mouth leaves you, you can’t help but mewl pathetically.
“what is it, baby?” he rasps.
“don’t stop.”
“what do you want, hm?” he teases. “tell me.”
if you were more awake, you’d flush and retreat into yourself out of embarrassment. there’s a part of satoru that wishes to see that part of you right now.
in a sick, twisted way, it turns him on even more — the prospect of you being so unaware of how obsessed he is with you. of how he’d be more than content with simply living in your skin, knowing all the ways you move and all the ways you tick. he has you memorized, certainly, but he hasn’t gotten ahold of all of you. he’d forfeit his status and his work just for a bit just so he could learn all of you from the inside out.
satoru is so sure that his desire for you is too much. so much that it would disgust you the same way it disgusts himself. and it’s not that he finds the act of wanting you disgusting — it’s the mere caliber of his desire. it’s become otherworldly.
he’d rather coax out a confession from you, instead, just so he can feel better about himself.
“want more.” the sound of your voice is small. pathetic.
“want more what, huh? be more specific.”
“i— i want you to touch me. please?” you stammer. your eyes blink up to satoru’s for just a moment and he swears it’s the most adorable sight. the usual sharpness of his gaze softens.
he chuckles, reveling in the desperation of your voice.
“where? here?”
you hiss at the feeling of his long fingers cupping the damp mound of your underwear, reflexively bucking into his palm. he’s so tantalizing with how he moves the fabric to the side. your wetness gathers on his fingertips as he rubs your clit.
“y-yeah.”
“so pent up,” he groans. “all because you couldn’t kiss me in your dream, hm?”
“fuck.”
“my poor baby. ‘s so easy to make you feel good, isn’t it?”
you mewl his name, turning each syllable a staccato. your blink wildly at the feeling of his teeth gnawing at your collarbone as he keeps a steady rhythm on your clit. the movements are so gentle yet rapid. the coil inside of you is so close to breaking.
your eyes are squeezed in anticipation of your release. it’s probably good that you aren’t looking at his face, because the way satoru stares down at you is something indescribable. he looks at you like you created him. he’ll probably get sick from how prodigious his love is. his devotion will be the cause of his ruination.
“s-satoru! i’m— ”
“shhh,” he coos into your ear. “s’okay. you’re so good, look at you. so fucking pretty.”
you don’t even notice the tears pricking the corner of your eyes. when you look into satoru’s blue ones, you gasp at how blown out his pupils are, visible even in the dimness of your room.
he grins like a devil. he’s determined to have you overdose on him just so he can be the one to bring you back to life.
“fuck, don’t look at me like that,” he groans. “i’ll cum before i’m even inside you.”
satoru lifts up your (his) t-shirt so he can hook his teeth around your nipple. one hand grasps your waist hard enough to bruise while his other hand covers your mouth. he slips his fingers onto your tongue. when you suck obediently, licking up your taste, satoru makes a wounded sound, a whimper like a devoted dog.
you want to kiss him, lick into his mouth, but the hold he has on your hips is resolute, as if he’s sure that you’ll disappear. his demeanor is always wild during intimacy, often cocky, but this time it’s more primal than usual.
“so fucking cute when you fall apart for me,” he mumbles, his mouth moving upwards now to suckle on your collarbone. “just for me, yeah?”
“mhm,” you moan. his hands all over you makes your mind completely erratic. you barely register his words after chasing the high of your orgasm.
“say it. want you to say it.”
“’m yours, satoru,” you whine. “all of this — ah! — just for you.”
your legs are shaking so much from his fingers on your clit again. he has you overstimulated from his touch. the sounds that come out of your mouth have to be awakening something divine in him. the knife inside him twists inward.
“mine, mine, mine,” he mutters into your skin, slotting his hips with yours. he enters you without warning, a hard thrust that has your body bending to his will.
“no one wants you more than i do, you know that? if anyone even tries to test me, i’d kill them.”
“satoru—”
you can barely grasp language at this point. he laughs a little when he sees your eyes roll back and the sound of it is both melodic and a little mean.
“oh my god,” you whimper. tears start falling down your cheeks.
satoru might be a sadist — the sight makes his heart fucking swell. he wants to tear you apart and put you back together. he wants to worship you.
and god, the begging. the aching way your voice breaks as you say his name and the word please.
he’s carnal with his teeth at your throat. his hips stutter when he feels how tightly you suck him in, how he can feel your cunt contract when he hits a certain spot.
satoru thinks he’s been hungry for you all his life. if being the strongest sorcerer wasn’t his reason for being alive, he thinks that being able to see you sprawled out like this underneath him is reason enough.
satoru is many things. he’s arrogant, assured, depraved. he’s certainly annoying to anyone that knows him. but above all, to nobody else but you, he is fucking obsessive.
he loses himself in your pussy. with his cock pushed inside you to the hilt, he is yours and no one else’s. no one else can touch him like you do. no one else touches him.
“i’m so close,” you gasp.
“poor thing. is that what’s got you crying so much?” he taunts.
“y-yes! fuck—”
“you’re so pretty when you cry. i love it.”
you flush under his gaze, heat pooling in your stomach. when you attempt to cover your face with your arms and at least wipe away your tears, satoru holds down your wrists.
“don’t hide from me,” he groans. “wanna see my pretty girl when she cums.”
he can feel his dick twitching inside of you. you’re so fucking tight. the lewd sound of him drilling into you is obscene, but the look on your face is fucking divine.
he loves to claim you, to mark you up. he remembers how much you like it, too, especially when his long, pretty fingers are around your throat. he squeezes just the tiniest bit and you gasp in pleasure.
“more, more, more—”
“i know, baby, i know.”
satoru likes his name best when it comes from your mouth. especially when you’re crying, your voice shaking just as violently as your thighs.
he takes the opportunity to be even rougher, his other hand toying with your clit as he coaxes your release. you’re overwhelmed, flooded with a euphoria that stimulates the whole of your body.
“fuck, y’feel so fucking good,” he grunts. with his cock wrapped in the velvet of your cunt, satoru feels like he’s on top of the fucking world. above the heavens, too, probably.
“cum inside me,” you strain. “please.”
“yeah? you want it that bad?”
he presses into you further, lifting your legs so that your ankles dangle past his shoulders.
“yes— need it so bad, fuck!”
he curses with a growl rumbling in his chest. he soaks your insides with his warmth until it leaks out of you.
this is satoru’s form of worship. the stutter of his breaths, the slight tremble of his hands as they caress your jaw. the all-consuming kiss.
it rouses something terrifying inside you. in a way, it mirrors the beast in him. gods and monsters, the two of you.
the room is filled with the sound of both of your breaths evening out, heartbeats syncing together.
“jesus christ.” you clear your throat.
“you okay?”
“i’m perfect,” you reply in a haze. even after cumming, satoru wants to lick the sleepy grin off your mouth. or maybe make you cry again.
for now, he basks in your warmth, indulges in the way you bring him back to earth after making him ascend to heaven.
“yeah, you really are.”
606 notes · View notes
ackercoded · 3 months
Text
<3
levi waited as he patiently watched you bargain with a vendor for a silk scarf you fancied.
“but it’s such a small scarf!”
“it’s made from the finest silk, ma’am, imported from overseas.”
a small smile made its way to levi’s lips as he watched your face turn into a red tomato from frustration. you humphed loudly as you handed the bag of coins to the vendor and snatched the scarf from the stall.
he watched you with an amused expression as you wrapped the evidently small scarf around your neck and began to knot it. he could see your lips muttering words to yourself as you proudly walked back to him.
“that was real mature.”
you narrowed your eyes at him. “don’t you patronize me, levi ackerman.”
levi huffed out a small laugh, shaking his head. “at least you entertained everyone around you including myself with your excellent bargaining skills.”
you humphed loudly again as you walked alongside him, your hand casually finding its place on the back of his chair as you moved forward. before you even got the chance to step ahead, headed to your next destination, levi maneuvered himself in front of you.
he levelled you with a calm stare.
“sit.”
you regarded him with a puzzled glance. “huh?”
levi moved himself closer to you, and patted his lap. “sit.”
you assessed him carefully. “i don’t want to hurt you”
he rolled his eyes. “you won’t hurt me. you’ve walked long enough, let me take us wherever it is we are going next.”
your eyes softened at his words, so you let out a small sigh before doing as he asked. you carefully put most of your weight on his good leg as you splayed your legs over the other.
levi’s hand came up to adjust your skirt that had ridden up a little, before going back to the joystick on the armrest. you looked at his solemn expression as he shuffled on the seat, making sure both of you were comfortable.
something twisted in your chest.
unable to help yourself, you leaned in, your lips brushing against the scars on his cheek as you planted a soft kiss.
“thank you. and just so you know, i never want you to feel like you somehow owe me something in exchange of me loving you.” you then kissed his lips. “i love you and i care about you so, so much.”
levi looked at you with an expression that made you want to embrace him tightly and never let him go, and never let harm come his way ever again.
he silently took your hand and brought it to his lips, his eyes falling shut as he kissed your knuckles gently.
wrapping your other arm around his shoulders, you leaned in to kiss him once more. “let’s go get those baked cinnamon thingies you love so much, and then take a stroll in the park.”
levi smiled and nodded, but not before correcting you that the baked cinnamon thingies were called cinnamon rolls.
the sky had turned into hues of lilacs, pinks and oranges by the time you and levi reached the park. in one hand you held your cinnamon roll, and with the other you fed levi his.
“mm, this is actually so good. why did i hate it again when i first tried it?” you moaned in delight through a mouthful of sweet goodness.
“because it wasn’t drowning in diabetes. you’re gonna get sick.” levi remarked, eyeing the bun in your hand as he navigated you both through the wide expanse of the green and flowery park.
your cinnamon roll was oozing with an unhealthy amount of the creamy icing, but you couldn’t care less.
levi opened his mouth for another bite. you lifted the bun to his mouth, but just as he was about to bite into it, you pulled it out of reach with a giggle.
a burst of laugh escaped you when levi shot you an annoyed look, daring you to test him again.
“i’m sorry, i’m sorry. here you go,” you lifted it to his mouth—only to pull it away again, breaking into another fit of laughter.
“i’m gonna throw you off my lap.” levi muttered.
you let out a dramatic gasp as you held the roll to his mouth again. “don’t make fun of me because i like sugar, you turd.”
“you mean diabe—mmf!”
you shoved the bun into his mouth. his eyes widened in shock while you grinned foolishly at his look of despair.
he began chewing angrily, as he whipped out his white kerchief from his jacket pocket and wiped at the corners of his lips.
“i can’t believe you manage to look this adorable even when you’re mad. oh my god,” you kissed his cheek, puffed and stuffed from the big bite thanks to your assault of the cinnamon roll.
you went to kiss him again, but he dodged it, your puckered lips meeting nothing but the air.
you huffed in frustration half-heartedly. “i’m sorry, i won’t do it again. promise.”
he grumbled under his breath. only then did you notice a remaining crumb of the bun still lingering on his chin. using your finger, you caught it and put it in your mouth.
levi’s cheeks turned pink at that.
you smiled as you leaned your head against his and began finishing the rest of your rolls.
fortunately enough, you were strolling closely near the flower bushes. you seized the opportunity and plucked a handful of hydrangeas.
“relax,” levi muttered.
you pouted as you dropped the flowers on your lap. “why do you sound so mad at me.”
you picked one and placed it behind levi’s ear. “i’m sorry for making you choke on a cinnamon roll. i love you.” you pouted again, looking at him with puppy dog eyes.
levi shook his head, a faint smile playing on his lips, before absentmindedly placing something in your hair.
you scrunched your brows, immediately plucking it out.
it was a red rose. a loud gasp escaped your lips. “where did you get this?”
levi only rolled his eyes. “while you were too busy bullying me, we passed rose bushes.”
you sputtered dramatically. “excuse you, i was loving you!”
his lips quirked to one side at that. he placed another red rose in your hair.
“that one has a lot of thorns.” he warned, as he reached up and tucked a loose strand of your hair.
you brought the rose to your nose and inhaled the familiar scent. “i’m sorry for bullying you.” you said, your head falling against his chest.
his arm snaked around your waist and squeezed your side.
“you can make it up to me, when we get home.” he whispered, his warm breath fanning your temple.
you looked up at him, your hand going around his torso. “i shall, mr. ackerman.”
he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a while.
“i love you, mrs. ackerman, bullying and all.”
you bit your lip to contain your huge smile as you looked at him.
“take us home, please. i’ve got a little surprise for my dear husband.”
565 notes · View notes
bizbat · 1 month
Note
Those Jason crush hcs were so funny (obvi they were cute too) butJason getting so embarrassed he tried to crawl outside with 4 bullet holes and half his blood outside his body was such a mood. Me too dude. Can we have some more of him being delulu about his crush? It was so deliciously embarrassing and funny. What would happen if his wifey/husbando was just boldly was like- “Jason we're not dating, why would you think we were? We're not even having sex?”
EVEN MORE! When They're In Love Headcanons - Jason Todd
🕸️Spiderverse Masterlist🕸️
🐼JJK Masterlist🐼
~ Fem terms used for reader.
~ Mild smut alluded to but nothing explicit.
~ You can find parts One, Two, and Three here!
~ You can find more of my works here.
~ Jay is kinda toxic so Tw: Unhealthy Relationships Dynamics, mentions of having children, slight violence, Jason is a freak and reader is tired.
~ This is gonna be mostly fic bc I am running out of ideas lol. This took an inappropriate amount of time to write omg
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By now, I've made it clear that this man is deep in the delusion.
But I haven't really gone into detail in what I mean by that.
I mean he'll say something teasing in jest, and if you reciprocate that energy even the tiniest bit, he will take that and run with it.
Though that's not even solid, bc if you take everything he says literally, he'd still think you're playing along.
Jason could make a joke with someone and not gaf about their response, but you could say the exact same thing as the person he joked with and he'd get heart eyes.
So far, I've kinda been writing with an oblivious reader in mind but a reader who knows all of Jason's delusions would pretty interesting lol.
You'd probably overhear him talking to Roy or Dick about your "date" last night.
Read: He broke into your apartment while you were at work and surprised you with chinese takeout when you got home.
I think if you confronted him about his delusions, he'd be willfully ignorant, and act like he doesn't know what you mean.
~ Drabble Starts Here. ~
Lian seems so happy, you can't bring yourself to be the bearer of bad news.
You're sat beside the little girl at her even littler table, the handle of a plastic teacup loosely gripped between your thumb and forefinger, your pinky high up in the air. The smile on your face is sincere as she mindlessly babbles, pouring sugar water into your cup.
You can't help but grimace when she encourages you and her stuffed animals to drink up, and you can't help but feel like the girl is being somewhat malicious when she seemingly starts interrogating you, only to push the cup of surgery water back to your lips whenever you to to answer her litany of, frankly, over-personal questions.
Some of the questions you don't mind, they're about as pure and unassuming as the pink princess tiara laying crookedly atop her head. It's when she asks if you and Jason are gonna get married and have babies with the most deadpan face you've ever seen on a child, that finally makes you choke on the (syrup) water.
"Excuse me?!" You ask, wiping away the mess on your face with a embroidered napkin and desperately trying not to hack up the rest of the beverage, undissolved grains of sugar still residing in the back of your throat. "Why would we do that?" You manage between coughs.
Lian glances towards Jason, who is sat at the table across from the two of you, his knees tucked up to his chest, as he hides his face behind his miniature teacup, though it's mostly ineffective, as the cup looks like a shot glass in his massive hand. Lian innocently looks back to you, as if you were the one who'd asked the more confusing question.
"Uncle Jay said you were dating. Isn't that what happens when people date?"
You crane your neck as you slowly turn your head towards Jason, who is avoiding your ice cold gaze like his life depended on it. "Oh, really?" You ask Lian through gritted teeth, though your gaze is solidly planted on Jason. "Did he now?"
"Mm-hmm," The small girl cheerfully nods her head, the dark braids framing either side of her face swinging from the force of her enthusiasm. "He told me you guys were gonna have a bunch of kids so I could have more people to play with!"
You can't help but stare incredulously at the child as she explains. By now, Jason's put down the cup, giving up at his attempt to hide behind it and simply covering his mouth with his hand, sitting silently like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs as he waits for you to start chewing him out. But it never comes.
"You are, right? I really want more friends." Lian's pleading is almost enough to make you change your mind and agree right there. Almost. As if sensing that she hasn't fully convinced you, Lian continues, going on and on about how she would be a really really good big sister or cousin if you had babies, or how much she's always wanted to go to a wedding, and how pretty you'd be as a bride, and-
She knows better than to continue when you gently raise your hand, as if you're silently saying "That's enough, Lian, please stop talking." You do feel a little remorseful as the girl's once happy demeanor changes to a shyer, more somber at the apparent rejection. You sigh and roll your eyes, finishing of the tiny cup of, what is now, pure sugar. "Maybe someday, Lian."
You put your hand up again, bracing her for the next part of your sentence when you see her start to get riled up again. "But absolutely no promises. Uncle Jay and I need to have a very important conversation later about it, though." That's enough to please Lian, as she goes right back to asking you other invasive questions that have nothing to do with your love life.
Jason, though happily surprised by your answer, stays silent over the next few hours. He honestly forgets you were ever even mad at him to begin with. It's not until you leave and the sky turns that familiar dark red, that you punch Jason in the arm as hard as possible, which, in all honesty, he can't really feel.
Though he does wince and hold his arm in the place where you hit him, to keep your ego intact if nothing else.
"What was that for?!" He dramatically gasps, pouting as he rubs the "sore" spot on his upper arm. Somewhere in the back of your mind you recognize it's kinda cute that he plays into your delusions. Just a little.
"Why would you tell Lian of all people we're dating?!" Your hand subtly clenches by your side, though you try to hide the slight pain punching him gave you, at the end of the day, Jason was raised by a detective. "Why would you even say that when you know it's not true?!"
"First of all," He starts, grabbing your hand. "I tell everyone we're dating." He starts soothing your sore knuckles as he tugs you towards your apartment building. He's so confident as he speaks it's genuinely bewildering. "And second, we are dating."
When he sees the utterly gobsmacked look on your face he continues. "We go on dates," (he just shows up at your home once a week. "We get gifts for each other," (he got you a stray kitten he rescued off the street and he steals your underwear). "We have sex-"
"Okay, number one: No we don't," You say, holding your hand out in front of you just like you did with Lian. "Number two: No we don't," You can almost see his eyes glaze over. He listens to every other thing you say, but when you're telling him your not together? That's when he tunes out.
"And number three: that only happened once!" It comes out a harsh whisper. Your face and ears feel hot with embarrassment, but Jason just shrugs. "Three times, actually, but who's counting?" Jason has a sweet, intentionally dopey looking smile.
You're left speechless by his demeanor. "Just kiddin' . . . I'm counting." He thinks the awkward, bewildered silence is hilarious. So he just keeps talking. "I mark it down in my calendar . . . Celebrate it once a month . . . Might get the dates tattooed."
"Jason." You interrupt.
"Hmm?"
"Go home." He looks over and realizes you're both in front of your apartment door, having talked the whole way. Again, he shrugs, pulling a spare key out of his pocket and moving to unlock your door. "Oh my fucking g-"
"What?" He stops, holding up the key midair. "What's wrong?" "Jason," You groan, rubbing your temples. "Why do you have a key to my apartment?" By now you shouldn't be so surprised, but you are. "Oh, this?" He hold up the key, equally confused that you would even ask. "I had one made when we started dating. How did you think I get in for our dates?"
He can almost smell the exhaustion wafting off you at this point. "Plus I live here."
"Jason you don't-"
"I'm just busy! I know, I know, I should be home more, but when I'm blah blah blah." No longer unused to his inane ramblings, you unlock the door and push past him. You don't even stop him when he follows you inside, still going on about his delusions. You just roll your eyes when he takes of his shoes and jacket and tosses them aside like they he really does live there.
"You shouldn't make dinner, you've had a long day, we can order-"
He's interrupted by yet another sigh. "Jason," you begin, plopping down on the couch. He shuts up and listens intently to every sound coming from your mouth. "I just . . ." You sit up straight. "You don't live here, you're a stalker, and we are not dating." Jason nods as you talk, slowly, as if he's taking in what you said.
"I . . . I understand. I really am sorry I've upset you, but," He kneels on the ground in front of you, gently placing his hand on your thigh. "I am not a stalker." He's incredulous, and you're tired. At this point, what more can you do beside oblige him and his delusions. You sigh again, a deep, deep sigh that instantly drains you of the rest of your energy and makes you deflate into the couch. "Okay, Jay," You say, undressing as you stand and begin walking back to your room. "You win, you're my boyfriend. Goodnight."
Jason just happily nods as he watches you walk to bed. "Yeah, yeah, I win." He's just happy you finally came to your senses. "Night!" He happily calls after you.
295 notes · View notes
badalivie · 4 months
Text
 when you faint on stage
warnings: unhealthy diets, cursing, and some mentions of blood 
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seungcheol!
“I can’t. My performance is in a couple minutes” You huffed, almost tripping over because of the lack of feeling you had in your left leg.
“slow down” Seungcheol grabbed a hold of your waist and pulled you back up on your feet “y/n please.” Just as he tried to beg you again, your group was called to perform. He could only watch as you hauled yourself onto the stage and smiled brightly, waving and making hearts at the cameras. He hated seeing his members in pain during performances and not being able to do anything to help them. So imagine how he felt watching you, the love of his life, haul yourself onto the stage like a soldier with a duty to battle.
After 3 excruciating minutes, you were able to finish the performance. Seungcheol kept his eyes on you like a hawk throughout the performance. Biting his nails, tapping his foot, peeling the skin on his lips. He felt like his heart was going to burst from worry. The way your eyes began to close and the way your foot was fighting for balance didn’t go unnoticed by him. Just as the lights shut off, you lost consciousness. Seungcheol was fast enough to catch you before you hit the ground, tearing his slacks as his knees slid across the floor. “Y/n, doll, come on” He lightly tapped your cheeks and stroked your head “Fuck.” He cursed, picking you up bridal style and running to your waiting room.
“I don’t care what you think! I’m asking you why you thought it was okay to overwork y/n like this! Extreme diets, 17 hour schedules, are you out of your mind?! You think being an idol is easy?”
The voice of your boyfriend yelling slowly woke you up. “Baby..?” You muttered. Seungcheol’s head snapped towards you when he heard your voice and he instantly kneeled down to your eye level while you lay on the couch.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” He smiled sweetly while he waved your manager and other staff away with one motion of his hand.
“Dizzy” you replied, trying to get up
“hey hey, slow down” Seungcheol placed his hands on your back and helped you sit up. “drink.” He gently held your chin as he guided you to drink from the water bottle he had bought earlier, feeding you like a baby. You drank a good amount before pushing the bottle away. “Good girl.” Seungcheol cooed, stroking the side of your head and tucking your hair behind your ear.
“what happened?”
“you passed out.” He frowned
“Oh shit not again” you face palmed. Seungcheol’s eyebrows crashed together.
“again? how many times has this happened?” He grabbed your wrist tightly and pulled it away from your face, forcing you to look at him. “Tell me.” He pressed.
“Just like… three or four times”
A serious, yet worried, expression washed over his features. “I knew it. I knew something was up with you. Why didn’t you tell me?” You sensed a hint of anger in his voice even though he tried his hardest to suppress it. You knew how careful he was with you, always making sure you never bumped into anything or strained yourself too much (which you were grateful for), so you didn’t want to trouble him when you started passing out and kept it a secret.
“because I knew you’d react like this.” You sighed.
His face scrunched up in what seemed to be annoyance before he took a breath and relaxed “of course I’m going to react like this, y/n. I’m your boyfriend, all I want is for you to be happy, and healthy. You can’t expect me to be anything less than worried.” He sighed, eventually calming down, and rested his forehead against yours.
“I’m sorry,” You said, attempting to calm his nerves knowing he was probably exploding internally. You rubbed your hands up and down his arms, which you could feel made him physically relax. “It won’t happen again.”
“It definitely won’t. I’ll make sure of that. You’re gonna be okay. I’m here now.”
He’d definitely watch over you like a hawk for the rest of the month. He’d make sure you ate 3 meals a day and had a decent amount of sleep. Your manager adjusted your schedule to make it a bit lighter. How could he not? He was too scared to find out what Seungcheol would to do him if he didn’t ease up on you.
jeonghan!
“so you think I’m weak and can’t handle it?”
“That’s not what I meant at all and you know it.” Jeonghan exasperated
“Yeah well, that’s what it sounded like to me.”
Jeonghan sighed and reached for your arm, rubbing up and down “I just worry for you... That’s all...” Before you could respond, your group was called to the stage. The heartbreak he felt when you shook his hand off was incomprehensible. It started off as a joke. He was teasing you about how pale you were, but when he noticed how weak you actually were, his mood changed. “You can’t go on stage like this y/n.” “You’re too... frail...” “Look at you! You look like you’re going to fall over any minute!” Were some of the things he said. Considering your exhaustion and all his prior teasing, you were not having any of it, which lead to a small dispute.
Jeonghan quietly returned to his seat by his members when the event continued. He kept his eyes fixated on you the whole time. Every time your balance faltered, and when your knees hit the ground too hard, he flinched in his seat. You managed to get to the end of the performance, but before you could strike the ending pose, you fell to the ground. The crowd gasped and the camera flashes went wild.
Jeonghan calmly stood up and excused himself from his members, who all understood where he was going. He heard the voices of your concerned members through the speakers, but he never sped up his pace as he made his way backstage. The pace he was walking at was driving him insane. When he got backstage, away from the cameras, his legs mindlessly began to speed up, taking him faster and faster until he was sprinting to your waiting room.
Jeonghan’s heart sank when he saw you with an oxygen mask strapped to your face. He immediately turned to your manager and lost it.
You woke up to the sound of your boyfriends voice and that irritating tone of his. You only heard it when you got in big arguments with him. It was that tone that made you think he wasn’t taking you seriously, like he was mocking you. It drove you crazy. But hearing what he was saying made your heart warm.
“So what did you expect her to do? Just take it and soldier though? Do you hear yourself right now? What do you want me to say? ‘You’re a genius!’ Pull yourself together dumbass. Look at the state she’s in! Did you not have enough brain to think this far? Do you think she’s a robot?! This is what happens to a person if you don’t let them rest!”
You gently reached your hand and grazed your fingertips over Jeonghan’s hand. A shiver crawled up his spine at the contact. “Baby…” Your boyfriend fell to his knees by your side, brushing your hair back. The staff all silently slipped outside of the room, partly because they were scared of Jeonghan, but because they also wanted to give you two privacy. “I’m sorry for earlier. I shouldn’t have been hard on you…”  He immediately apologized.
“I’m sorry too. I know you care for me… I shouldn’t have let my exhaustion rub off on you.”
Jeonghan shook his head and smiled sweetly at you “It’s okay. I know I have those moments with you too, and honestly I’d rather you be open to me about how you’re feeling. Okay? Don’t hide it from me.” He grabbed some water and a snack from the coffee table next to you. “Please eat something. You know how hard it was for me to just watch you eat only fruits at home?”
You sat up slowly and debated at first, but when you saw the way Jeonghan was looking at you with his worried, begging eyes, you had to say yes. “Just a small bag of cheetos. That’s it.”
“It’s a step” He chirped, popping the bag open and feeding you pieces of the snack one by one.
He’d watch over you silently but diligently for the next few months. He’d subtly try to up your food intake without you noticing and he’d always cuddle you after eating a large meal, almost like a reward.
shua!
"you’re bleeding!”
You felt blood trickle down from your nose, the droplets landing on your stage outfit. Joshua ran to your side and wiped your nose with a tissue. “This is bad, y/n. Really bad.”
“I’m fine. This happens a lot” You said nonchalantly, stuffing some tissue up your nostril. 
“a lot? y/n you need to see a doctor!”
“I’m fine, shua...” You tried to reassure him, but it obviously wasn’t working.
“y/n please.”
Just on cue, you were called to the stage to perform. Joshua grabbed your wrist, asking you to stay and take a break. He didn’t let go up until the very last second. He watched your performance from his seat anxiously. It was obvious to him that your blood was still trickling down from your nose. You kept looking up and wiping your nose when you walked to the side of the stage. You were like a ticking time bomb. 
Just before the last chorus could start, you dropped your microphone and fell onto the cold wooden floor. One of your members helped you up and carried you backstage with the help of some staff while your other members continued the performance. Joshua pushed through the crowd and burst through the backstage doors, booking it towards your waiting room.
“y/n!” His heart sank at the sight of you laid out on the couch. Grabbing a blanket, he threw it over your body and fell to his knees beside you. Joshua grabbed your hand and brought it up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss on the back. After about 15 minutes, you regained consciousness.
“Shua..?”
“you’re awake... how do you feel?”
It took you a second to answer, feeling too drowsy to even evaluate your physical state “not so good.”
Joshua sighed and brushed your hair back,  whispering softly “we’re seeing a doctor tomorrow.”
“Joshua there’s no need-”
“No. You are not arguing with me on this. I should have been more stern with you.” His voice was sharp, yet his eyes were still gentle as ever, afraid of hurting or scaring you. “We’re seeing a doctor and that’s the end of the story. If there’s something wrong with you, I want to know, I want to help. I don’t want to regret not taking you to the doctor. I can’t take that risk. I can’t to lose you...”
You cupped his cheeks and planted a gentle kiss on his forehead “And you wont...” He melted upon hearing those words of reassurance, bringing his hands up to yours and pressing them closer to his face, moving his head to the side to kiss one of your palms. “What time do we have to go tomorrow?”
“After we get enough rest.”
The doctor said you were suffering from burnout and exhaustion and advised you to get lots of rest. Joshua was happy that you didn’t have any serious life threatening conditions and that helping you get better was something he had power over. He’d pamper you but also be strict with your recovery, scolding you whenever you didn’t eat enough saying “you didn’t eat a lot, you just ate more than usual.”
jun!
Jun was usually soft-spoken toward you. He always respected and trusted your decisions whatever they may be. So when you were depriving yourself of your basic needs and deteriorating your health, he had no idea how to talk to you about it. You’d never put yourself in a situation that needed his intervention before so he had no idea how to tackle it. His hesitation lasted weeks, with multiple occasions of him saying he wanted to talk to you about something that was concerning him but it ending up with him getting too nervous and changing the topic to something else.
“Love, can we talk please?”
“Of course Junnie. What is it?”
“Are you okay-“
Before Jun could finish you were called by your manager, telling you to get on stage. You told him you’d talk to him later and ran into positions. Jun bit his lip, frowning at how the outfit you were wearing brought out how much weight you’d lost. 
You were out of breath and wobbly on stage, something even the audience took notice of. Mid-performance, as your verse was coming up, you fell onto the ground, landing hard on your shoulder. Jun flinched and instinctively ran to you, propping you up on his lap and cradling your face in his hands. The cameras went wild, the flashes almost blinding him. Soon after, staff came to the stage, blocking the two of you from sight and lifted you onto a stretcher. Jun followed the staff that took you to your waiting room with his heart stuck in his throat. He knew that there would be consequences to coming on stage and letting the media see him with you like that, but he didn’t care. He just needed to make sure you were okay. After all, as long as he had you by his side, he could take on the world.
It took about 20 minutes to wake up. You blinked your eyes open to see Jun sitting on a chair across from you, head in his hands. “Junhui...” You called. He jolted when he heard your voice and knelt by your side in a flash.
“y/n! I was so worried! When you fainted I- I didn’t know what to do I-... I was so scared.” You cupped his cheeks and brought his face closer to yours, pressing a gentle kiss against his lips. 
“I’m sorry.”
“You can’t keep scaring me like this, y/n. I can’t keep watching you do this to yourself. I can’t take it. This is where I draw the line.”
“Junhui...”
“Listen to me, y/n” His voice was sharp and stern, a polar opposite from his usual gentle tone. After noticing the shock on your face, he took a deep breath and softened his approach “ Please... We’re seeing a doctor, and getting you a dietitian.”
“Junnie, I can handle myself. I don’t need a dietitian-”
“That wasn’t a request, y/n. I’m getting you one”
You knew by the way he was stalking to you that there was no changing his mind. Though, you did realize that if you hadn’t pushed yourself so far, he wouldn’t have been so stern with you. Deep down, you knew he cared about you.
“Okay... Thank you, Junhui...”
His eyes softened “I’ll never let anything happen to you. You know that right?”
“I know... But hey, on a side note, I like you being strict. It’s really cute~”
“stop it” He giggled, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in for a kiss.
Jun would be very gentle and supportive in your recovery, making sure you knew he would be with you every step of the way. He’d send gentle reminders to eat the snacks he packed you with sticky notes of motivational messages and cradle you to sleep, smiling when he gradually felt your body gain a little more fat every time he held you.
wonwoo!
“stop it.” Wonwoo chided
“Leave me alone, Won.”
“Y/N!”
“JUST GO!” You shook his arm off, stumbling as you did so. “if you’re not going to support me, just leave.”
“you can’t keep doing this. Your body can’t handle it.”
“I know what I can and can’t handle, Won.” The way you seethed his name left a bitter taste in his mouth. He exhaled and gently tried to reach for you again.
“y/n, please... I don’t want to fight.”
You sighed “me too... Just-... I’ll catch you after my performance”. Wonwoo wanted to reach for you again and say something, but no words were coming out of his mouth. The two of you almost got in a really big fight, he knew the both of you needed space. Still, he never stopped worrying about you, not even for a second.
Wonwoo could barely sit still while you performed on stage. Every time you fell too hard on your knees or twisted your ankle, he winced. Before he knew it, in the blink of an eye, you were on the ground, motionless and cold. He jolted up from his seat, watching in horror as the staff carried you backstage. He felt his legs take him to your waiting room where he found you laid out on the couch.
Wonwoo took deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself, loosening his tie and grabbing a chair to sit beside you. He couldn’t stay still no matter how much he tried, so he grabbed a bucket, a towel, and some iced water. He dipped the towel in the iced water and wrung it before placing it on your forehead. “come on y/n...” He whispered, brushing his fingers through your hair.
“Won..?” You blinked your eyes open
“Oh thank God” Wonwoo exasperated “You have no idea how worried I was. I just blinked and the next thing I knew you were on the ground! I-”
“I’m sorry...”
“huh..? for what, love?”
“for earlier...” You lowered your head “You were right and I... I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. You didn’t deserve that.”
“Oh baby, you’re tired and stressed. I get it. I’m not upset because of that, I’m upset because I don’t like seeing you get hurt.” He rubbed your now bruised knees gently with his hands. “Listen, let’s get you help. Okay? You’re having problems staying up and eating and breathing and just… You need help, y/n, and I’ll give it to you. You just need to let me in. Let me help you help yourself. How does that sound?”
You stayed silent, letting Wonwoo think you were debating it in your head when in reality you already knew the answer. Of course, you would listen to him, why wouldn’t you? What kept you silent is how long it took for you to finally let yourself get help. “Okay… Let’s go to the doctor…”
“Thank you” Wonwoo wrapped his arms around you and held you as close to him as humanly possible. The two of you would have a long, thorough conversation about how you would be handling your health and what steps you’d be taking to get back to proper health. Wonwoo was patient and respectful throughout the whole process, hearing your concerns but also making his side known.
He’d say he trusted you enough to take care of yourself but he’d always be subtly looking after you even if you didn’t notice. Lots of small gestures like putting more food on your plate or getting you juice after practice and opening bottles for you.
woozi!
“This is your fault! Look at what you’ve done to her! Are you proud of yourself?!” Your hearing was muffled but you could make our your boyfriend’s voice in the room, yelling. When you tried opening your eyes, you saw his figure facing your manager, who had a guilty expression on his face. “I told you time and time again that it was too much! You never listened! Now, look what happened! You sacrificed her health for magazine shoots! Are you out of your mind?! You watched her get worse and worse and did nothing! have you no remorse?”
“jihoon-ah...” You whispered, just loud enough for him to hear. Jihoon froze. “baby, come here” His head snapped in your direction, and when he saw you looking at him, the crease between his eyebrows immediately disappeared. His rage had disappeared into thin air, immediately replaced with worry.
“hey, you’re finally awake.” He fell to his knees by your side, smiling weakly. His voice had taken a total 180 from how he was speaking to your manager just a few seconds ago (who was now trying to leave the room without making a single noise, afraid of what Jihoon would do to him).
“what’s going on..? why am I here..?”
“You passed out on stage.”
“I did?” You tried sitting up, but you felt too tired to do so. Jihoon noticed and placed his hand on your back to help you sit up, placing pillows on your back to support you. 
“yeah. everyone was worried. I was worried.” Jihoon breathed, resting his forehead against yours. That was a habit of his whenever he was stressed. You indulged him, letting him hold you for as long as he wanted, knowing how worried he must have been. The silence was broken by a small sniffle coming from your boyfriend. “Jihoon?” You asked, partially worried but also shocked. He rarely cried. “Why are you crying?”
“I can’t take this anymore. Do you have any idea how scared I was?!” He raised his voice a little, a few tears streaking down his cheeks. “You come home at 3 in the morning with barely enough energy to give yourself a bath! You barely eat, you barely sleep, and you barely call anymore. Day and night I worry if you’re okay because you’ve started getting bloody noses often and you have a hard time standing and you don’t even want to eat your favorite foods with me anymore! It’s killing me seeing you like this. The worst part is you won’t talk to me about it! I have to find out through the staff and your friends! Do you have any idea how it makes me feel to find out that my girlfriend’s health is deteriorating right before my eyes and I barely noticed?!”
“Jihoon... I’m so sorry. I didn’t know it was affecting you this much.” You cupped his cheeks and wiped his tears “I’m fine, baby. See? I’m right here. I’m going to be okay”
“You say that but you haven’t shown me anything to back it up. You’re getting worse, y/n. I know your schedule has been hectic because of your comeback but you have to take care of yourself too. If you wont do it for yourself, at least do it for me... please...”
“I will, I’m sorry. I’ll fix it. I’ll make everything right.”
“we.” he corrected “I’m with you, remember? every step of the way. I’d appreciate it if you talked to me more. Let me know when you’re in pain, when you’re tired, or sick. I want to know everything.”
“I will, I promise. I won’t hide anymore. Thank you, love. For everything”
Jihoon didn’t say anything in reply and simply kissed you. He was very patient throughout your recovery and basically nursed you back to health himself. He would often push you but you knew he only wanted what was best for you. Every time you overcame a challenge he gave you he’d reward you with cuddles on the couch or a date. You’re so incredibly lucky to have him.
myungho!
“It’s not healthy, love”
“I know but I… I need to lose weight. I don’t want to disappoint the fans”
“You don’t need to lose weight. You’re perfect. Anyway, your real fans would love you no matter how you look. Just like I do.” He stroked your cheek gently, unable to hide the concern on his face. “and you know I’m your biggest fan, right?”
After minutes of constant reassurance, Myungho finally let you join your group to prepare to go on stage. He watched the performance with his lip caught between his teeth. He doesn’t remember the last time he was this anxious. He knew your group had a difficult choreography, and he scolded you a lot at home for starving yourself to this extent. Myungho had watched your mental health spiral downwards after one particular meeting with your manager, where it all started. No words could possibly express how he felt when he noticed you getting smaller and smaller every time he hugged you. The least he could do was try to reduce your anxiety by cuddling you when you got home, cooking you your favorite snacks, making you tea, or even slow dancing with you to your favorite songs on the record player. He did everything he could, but he couldn’t help you if you didn't want to help yourself, which made it all the more difficult for him to watch.
You were a very sharp person, heck, you were the main dancer. You were a perfectionist, so when he saw you falter on one of the dance steps, he knew something was definitely wrong. You managed to finish the performance, but you were more out of breath than you should have been, and Myungho especially caught the way you couldn’t stand straight while your leader was giving a speech. “Y/n!” He whisper-yelled, which you barely managed to hear. You turned your head and looked at him dead in the eyes “come to me” He mouthed, opening his arms to you. You wanted to walk to him and just rest your weight on him, but you couldn’t seem to feel your legs. All you could do was smile before your vision turned black. 
Myungho instinctively ran towards you and caught you before you hit the ground. He could hear the gasps and camera flashes from the audience but he couldn’t care less about them. “Y/n, baby, wake up.” He silently pleased, cupping your cheek in his hand. One of the staff approached him and said they had to rush you to the waiting room where the medics were waiting. Reluctantly, he let the staff take over, following closely behind.
By the time you regained consciousness you were already at home. Myungho was sitting on a chair next to the bed, holding your hand while he rested his head on a pillow. “Myungho...” You whispered, stirring him awake.
“You’re finally up” He smiled sleepily, moving his hand up to brush your hair back. “I was worried. I’m... really upset with what happened, y/n”
“What happened..?”
“You passed out on stage before I could reach you...”
“Before you could reach me..? Are you saying you went on stage?”
“Yes.”
“Myungho!” You jolted up, immediately regretting it once you felt a surge of pain through your back. Your boyfriend seemed just as surprised as you as he jumped forwards to place a pillow behind you to support your back. “So our relationship... It’s out?!”
“yeah. the public knows.”
“I’m sorry Myungho...” You sighed, letting him shift closer to plant a gentle kiss on your lips.
“You think that’s what I’m upset about?” Myungho stared at you with a mix of irritation and worry in his eyes. He took a deep breath before speaking again.
“Help yourself, y/n. Please. I can’t help you if you don’t help yourself. It hurts seeing you like this. Please let me help you.” His forehead rested against yours, he kept his eyes closed while he spoke gently. 
“Okay... I’m sorry...”
“You should be... Seeing you like that broke my heart, you know?”
It would be a slow process, but Myungho stayed by your side throughout the whole thing. When you couldn’t get yourself to eat, he’d support you, when you felt guilty for eating, he comforted you. He was always there, caring for you and whispering gentle reassurances in your ear until you were healthy again.
mingyu!
"Mingyu!”
“Hyung? What’s up?” Mingyu stared at Seungcheol who was panting by the doorway of the restroom
“It’s y/n.” The older male fought to catch his breath “She passed out on stage.” Mingyu, who was in the middle of drying his hands, froze. 
Everything after that was a blur. He could vaguely remember Seungcheol’s mouth moving as if he were speaking but not actually hearing anything. He could vaguely remember bumping into other idols as he sprinted his way backstage. He could vaguely remember tripping on someone’s foot and falling to the ground but immediately picking himself up and continued running to your room. Though nothing would ever make him forget the image of you lying on your waiting room couch with an oxygen mask strapped to your face.
“What happened?” Mingyu’s tone was low and dark. The only other person in the room was your manager, who placed a water bottle on the coffee table next to you.
“She fainted in the middle of her performance. The members are continuing without her but-”
“No, I meant what happened for things to reach this point? Cause I heard you put her on a 1 apple a day diet. Isn’t that right?” Mingyu towered over your manager with darkness pooling by his face as he looked down on him.
“I-I-”
“So it’s true? Now, why would you do something like that? What could you have been thinking, if you were thinking at all? Surely, you did think about the consequences, right? Of what would happen to her if you pushed her too far, and what would happen to you if she ever got hurt. Right? Do you see how skinny she is?” Your boyfriend harshly grabbed your manager’s shoulder, making him wince and groan. “Look. at. her.” Your manager turned his face to gaze at you, staring at your boney figure and feeling the remorse kick in. “Does the fact that you can see her ribs not concern you? What weight is there left to lose?”
“Gyu...” You groaned, slowly regaining consciousness. Mingyu dug his fingers into your manager’s shoulder and brought him closer.
“Leave the room, now. Y/n will take the rest of the day off to recover and she will not follow the ‘diet’ you’ve prescribed to her any longer.”
“but-”
“Did that sound like a request? You do whatever you need to do to let her have the day off. I. Don’t. Care. She will go home and you will do your job properly this time. Am I clear?” Your manager shook his head up and down frantically before Mingyu finally loosened his grip on him. Your manager practically ran out of the room, fearing to stay in the same room as your boyfriend for another second.
"gyu...” You called for him again, voice louder this time.
“I’m right here, baby. Don’t worry” He sat on the floor to match your eye level, giving you his signature sweet smile. “how are you feeling?” You felt his large hands over your own, rubbing circles at the back of your palm with his thumbs.
“Not so good... I’m a bit hungry...”
“how about this, once you feel better enough to walk, I take you to our favorite tteokbeokki place near home. what do you say?”
You smiled at the thought of going on a date with your boyfriend after stressful practice and passing out on stage, but reality hit you soon after. “I can’t... I’m on a diet... Sorry, Gyu...”
“Don’t worry about that. I had a talk with your manager and he said he’s taking you off that diet. You lost a lot of weight, it wasnt healthy.” He caressed your cheek gently and gazed at you with nothing but love and sincerity in his eyes.
“Are you sure..? Am I not too fat..?”
Mingyu seemed taken aback by the sudden question “Don’t be silly. You’re not fat, stop saying mean things about yourself. And quite frankly, I don’t care what you look like. Big or small, you’ll always be the woman I fell in love with. There’s nothing more I could want from you than to be healthy. that’s all, y/n”
“Do you really mean that?”
“of course...” He tucked stray pieces of hair behind your ear and kissed your cheeks. Mingyu began sensing your insecurity a couple of weeks ago when you didn’t want to wear one of the favorite dresses he got you because you thought your arms looked too big for it. He felt the best approach was to be gentle and supportive, making sure you knew he didn’t care about your weight. Judging by your reaction, that was the right decision.
You never found out about the small altercation between your manager and your boyfriend. That was probably for the best. He didn’t want your perception of him to change. He was still that soft, gentle, sweet boy you always knew, and he would continue to be that to you and the people around you as long as no harm came to you.
Your schedule lightened up and you spent more time at home with your boyfriend, rebuilding your confidence back up one piece at a time.
seokmin!
When Seokmin asked if you were okay, you replied with ‘sure’. He didn’t believe you. Those nights he’d find you awake in the kitchen drinking endless amounts of water, when you almost trip whenever you stand up didn’t slip by him. Still, he didn’t want to pry into what seemed your personal business until you wanted to tell him yourself. Still, he kept a careful eye on you while trying to cheer you up whenever you seemed tired.
Seokmin had many regrets. He regretted not asking what was causing you pain, and not convincing you to turn down that stupid diet. All because he knew he’d never forget how he felt when he saw you fall to the ground in the middle of your performance. He froze. His ears rung from the sound your microphone made when it hit the ground. He couldn’t understand or see anyone else but you lying on that stage while your members called for help. He didn’t care about the cameras. Seokmin got up from his seat immediately and ran backstage to your waiting room.
When you woke up you found Seokmin holding your hand in his palms close to his face with his eyes closed. “Seokmin?” His eyes burst open and he turned to look at you.
“You’re awake. How are you feeling?”
“dizzy… and hungry”
He gave you a small smile. “Here, have this.” Seokmin fed you strawberries and opened a water bottle he bought for you. “Y/n.”
“Yeah?”
“Please don’t scare me like this again.” He kept his eyes on the strawberries he was picking from the box while he said that. Seokmin felt too guilty to look into your eyes.
“I’m sorry, baby” you whispered, but he still didn’t look at you. “Hey, look at me” You placed your hand on his cheek and lifted his head. “It won’t happen again. hm? I’m sorry.”
Seokmin sighed and wrapped his arms around your waist, digging his nose into the crook of your neck. “I’m here, y/n. Please stop acting like i’m not. Tell me when you’re having a hard time. Let me take care of you sometimes. I know you view me as this cheerful and funny boyfriend but you can come to me when you need help too. okay? Im here for better and for worse.”
“Thank you, Seokmin...”
He’d (endearingly) nag you for probably the rest of your relationship. He made it a habit to text you to eat and check up on you. Whenever he was around, regardless of what either of you was doing, when his alarm went off he’d grab a banana, some milk, and walk to you and say “snack time! you need your energy.”
seungkwan!
Both you and Seungkwan were busy. With him going on multiple shows and you being in a hot new girl group, your meetings at home lessened and lessened. Seungkwan noticed you losing weight whenever he saw you, but he never really thought anything of it. That was until you fainted in the middle of your performance.
He’ll never forgive himself for not seeing the signs sooner. You two lived in the same house for god’s sake!
Seungkwan canceled all his schedules for the week and took you to the hospital. There he sat by your side, holding your hand while listening to the traffic from outside the hospital window. “I’m sorry. I should have known. I didn’t know you were getting this bad...” He sighed, placing his hand on your forehead, feeling your unusually high body temperature. You had a fever, were dehydrated, overworked, and burned out. You passed out from exhaustion and still hadn’t woken up after 13 hours. 
When you finally woke up, you found Seungkwan holding your hand while his head and arms rested on your hospital bed. He was asleep. “Seungkwan... baby wake up.”
“y/n, you’re awake...”
“What am I doing here..?”
“You passed out from exhaustion... you’ve been sleeping for almost a day”
It took a few sentences to process what your boyfriend had said. “Fuck... my schedules!” You tried tgo sit up in a panic but Seungkwan placed a hand on your shoulder.
“Slow down, baby. Everything’s okay. You’re on a break right now, I took care of everything. Just focus on resting okay?”
He rubbed your arms up and down, relaxing you. When you finally settled down again, Seungkwan smiled, kissing your cheek. “Hey uh... I’m sorry for not taking care of you better... We live in the same house but I didn’t even notice something was wrong.”
“It’s not your fault... I didn’t know I had already lost control of my health... I was too busy...”
“we both were...” You held his hand and intertwined your fingers with his own. “Listen, I want you to know that even if we both get busy, you can still talk to me okay? Tell me when you don’t feel well or need me and I’ll make time for you... I always will...”
“Thank you... I hope you know I’m here for you too. I know your schedule is tiring too...”
“You know, long days at work aren’t so bad either. It just means more excitement for when I get to go home and see you again” He winked, nudging your elbow in a playful manner
“Oh stop it~” You giggled, pushing his arm
You two laughed together for the first time in weeks. “Okay so here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re taking this week off and spending it at home. I’ll be attending less interviews, and your manager will be making your schedule more flexible. We’ll get you a dietitian too. Just so you can get back to a healthy weight.”
“That all sounds.... great, baby. Thank you.”
What happened to you traumatized Seungkwan, but he was also thankful for the experience. It was a wake-up call for both of you. Ever since then, you two spent more time together at home, talking about each other’s days and ranting and taking care of each other. Seungkwan never failed to make you smile with his daily checkups on you when he called. 
vernon!
Vernon, who had just returned to Korea after touring for months, was more than thrilled to see you again. He sat with his group, biting his lip in a weak attempt to hold back a smile while you were on stage performing. But as soon as he saw you walk on stage, his smile faded. When did you get so thin? and pale? Your hair looked like it’d gotten thinner too... His members all glanced at him, seeing his shocked and confused expression. 
“Yah, is Y/n okay?” Seungkwan nudged Vernon's elbow
“I... I don’t know... She sounded alright over the phone but this...” He couldn’t even form words to reply to his member. You looked like a different person. All the members took notice of how much you struggled on stage. You were out of breath, tripping, and faltering at every difficult move. It was a miracle that you made it to the end of the performance. 
When the lights shut off, everyone heard something drop. The gasps of your members had indicated to everyone that there was an accident. While the lights were still off, Vernon rose from his seat and quickly made his way backstage. By the time he got there you were surrounded by staffs who were fanning you, placing ice packs on your neck and making sure the oxygen mask was strapped to your face.
Vernon took a deep sigh as he gazed at your frail state. When your manager walked into the room and saw Vernon standing in the corner of the room, a shiver ran up his spine. He immediately asked the other staff to step out of the room and give you space. Before he was able to slip out of the room, Vernon grabbed his wrist tightly. “I’m having a word with you later. Don’t think you can run from me.” He growled, harshly releasing your managers wrist and letting him scurry away.
Vernon pulled a stool over and sat by your side, gently stroking your hair before resting his head in his hands. “How did i not notice?” “I should’ve asked how she was doing...” “I should’ve checked up on her more.” “i should’ve-”
“Hansol...” You weakly called for him, pulling him out of his thoughts.
“Hey baby” He weakly grinned, tucking your hair behind your ear. “You okay?” He asked. You obviously weren’t, but he didn’t know what to say with the adrenaline still pumping in his veins.
“I’m fine...” It was a weak attempt at trying to ease his nerves, because you both knew you were lying.
“bullshit.” Vernon said sternly “how long has this being going on?”
“How long has what been going on?”
“Don’t play coy with me. You know exaclty what I’m talking about.”
You took a deep breath, this was going to be tough for you. “About a week after you left for tour...” If it wasn’t for the sound of your breathing, the room would have been quiet enough for you to hear Vernon’s heart shatter. “I just lost control... I didn’t know it was this bad... I was too busy to notice and I just... I wanted to be pretty. Not just for my group’s comeback but I wanted to be prettier for you when you came back too-”
“Y/n what are you saying?” Vernon’s comment made you glance up to meet his confused gaze. His eyebrows were stitched together with his lips slightly parted in disbelief. “Do you hear what you’re saying right now? You wanted to be pretty? Pretty for when I came back? What does that even mean?” He sighed, cupping your cheeks. “You’re beautiful, y/n. You always have been. if thats not enough and you still want to take measures to help you feel more confident in your skin, the alright, I’ll support you. But never at the cost of your health.”
Tears trickled down your cheeks and Vernon was there to kiss each one away. “I love you, Hansol.”
“I know. Do you know I love you?”
He’d be very gentle yet persistent in your recovery. He’d make sure you ate enough food even if you whined and complained about it. After particularly large meals he’d spend hours cuddling you in the bedroom and kissing your arms, stomach and legs just to let you know that he loved your body no matter how it looked like.
chan!
“I’m not letting you go out there!” Chan sighed
“who are you to tell me what to do!”
“Your boyfriend, who cares about you a lot.” He tried to gently plead with you. “I can’t let you go on stage in the state that you’re in. You just threw up, you’re dizzy, dehydrated, exhausted and it shows.”
“I can’t, Chan. This is the last performance for this comeback, I can’t let everyone down.”
“Y/n-” Before he could try reasoning with you again, you were called onto stage to perform. Chan was pacing around while keeping his eyes on the screen your entire performance. Other idols approached him and asked him if he was okay, to which he just responded to with a wave of his hand and a brief nod. Even his members came out of the waiting room and tried to calm him down because he had been out for a while. He wouldn't leave. Towards the end of your performance, Chan was already waiting by the side of the main stage, waiting for you. You made a big bow, waved towards the cameras and glanced at him. His face was pale with worry and his hands couldn't seem to stay still. You weakly made your way towards him but collapsed right before you were able to completely exit the stage. The crowd saw the lower half of your body hit the ground and murmurs could he heard in the audience. 
Chan cautiously kneeled down and pulled your body towards his own, out of sight from others. He cradled your head gently in his arms “Y/n, baby, wake up.” After you didn’t respond, he quickly lifted you bridal style and carried you to your waiting room. The staff tended to you as well as they could before they gave you and Chan space. He didn’t realize he was going it, but when he was sitting next to you he started to gently massage your palms. Pressing on the soft flesh with his thumbs.
“That feels nice...” You whispered as you slowly regained consciousness.
“Y/n! You’re awake!” He smiled, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek. “You worried me...”
“Did I pass out?” 
Chan nodded gently “You need rest. Please, take a break. And please eat.” He tucked stray pieces of your hair behind your ear while he spoke. 
“What if i gain weight?” 
“So what? What matters is that you’re healthy, and happy. Let me help you, hm? Let me take care of you for once...”
He’d be very gentle and tender with you during your recovery. He’d talk to you sweetly and praise you for every achievement big or small.
authors note: to the person who requested this, im sorry this took literally forever but i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless <33
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soleelia · 4 months
Note
OK I HV AN IDEA,,,,
Chuuya and Dazai (seperately) with a fem s/o whos a telekinetic ability user and is also a university student? shes busy studying bcs shes like- an overachiever and when Chuuya and Dazai came home to their shared apartment, shes on her desk studying, textbooks and papers flying around her with some blue ish aura (probably ability color). Maybe the boys are shocked at first but they js admired her? maybe opting to help her rest as well, and maybe she refused so the boys js accompany her like js sitting beside her while she studies. or if she agrees to rest, theyll dote on her!!
may be hard w dazai cuz he'll cancel her ability when he touches her tho🤔 but up to u!
scenarios and/or headcannons pls! thanks <3
anon i’ll have u know this appeared right as my midterms week started !! the way my eyes widened when this ask was sent haha, ughh what i would give to have either of them !! anyway, i hope u like it !!
it uh… it kinda got long… sowwy-
love, lia
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siri, play hermit the frog by marina-
the clock struck one a.m., but you didn’t even notice, not when you were stuck in your late night-early morning study sessions.
let’s set the scene: it was hell-week season, aka exam season, and you know what that means !! that’s right, an insane amount of all-nighters to study and re-learn every subject you’re to take the next day! !!
and that was what exactly you were doing.
you have a reputation to uphold, you can’t stray from your studies, right? after all, what are you without your high scores, without your good grades?
so on you push, focusing on the key terms and definitions and writing them down so you won’t forget.
you’re running for class valedictorian, after all
you’re too busy reading your textbooks that you didn’t even realize you were subconsciously making your papers, pencils, and pens fly around you, like an ethereal subject for a painting, with you as the muse.
you were in the center, hair framing your face so beautifully as you focused intently on your books, the soft, azure glow that came from using your ability lighting up your side of the room.
too busy, you didn’t notice your beloved boyfriend walk in the room, his footsteps as quiet as a cat, nor did you notice the gentle, awed smile he has on his face as he gazed at you.
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osamu dazai
dazai has seen you use your ability countless times before, but god… it’s just as beautiful and as ethereal as the first time and it never fails to amaze and shock him.
the way your materials floated beside you in a gentle, harmonious manner, never touching each other but never falling out of line either? yeah, he’s in awe.
your ability kind of mirrors a certain shortstack’s gravity manipulation, with the floating things and the like, but if asked, he’d say that yours was so much prettier and more useful than his former partner’s. no he will not elaborate, no he will not rescind his answer.
suck on that, nakahara-
however, he of all people knew how tiring it was to stay up this late, especially if it was your exam season.
especially if he saw you yawning and struggling to keep your eyes awake. so, like the genius he is, he started to plan.
his solution?
SCENARIO:
one tap on the shoulder, that’s all it took.
just one, single tap.
that’s all it took for you to come crashing down and safely caught in his arms while the rest of your study materials fell to the ground around the both of you. shocked by what had happened, you gaze up at a smug, smirking dazai, and resist the urge to punch that pretty face of his, if only because he was so, so warm, and you were so, so tired…
“argh, what was that for?” you complain instead, pouting. “i was studying, you know! what if i’ll fail?”
dazai clicked his tongue. “bella, i personally think that will never happen. besides, you’re the smartest person i know! second to me, of course, but—ow, sorry—but, my point stands! you need to rest, my dear, it’s unhealthy to keep pushing yourself too hard. it’s one in the morning! isn’t that cuddle-with-osamu hours? how dare you break my heart!”
“but you just came home, didn’t you?” you point out. “and i’ll have you know i need to study, ‘samu, i can’t afford to go to school without studying for my tests, what kind of student does that? so please, can you let me down? i really, really need to study more.”
dazai sighs, shaking his head. he’d try and convince you to stop and sleep, but you sounded so worried, and who was he to deny his precious belladonna?
instead, he came up with a compromise.
“fine,” he decides instead, placing you down on your bed, but only after he kissed your forehead, “you may go back to studying. but after fifteen minutes, you are to take a break and cuddle me, alright?”
“but—“ you stutter out, but he silences you by placing a finger on your lips.
“ah, ah, ah, bella! no ifs or buts!” he huffed, his hands now moving to poke your cheeks. “i will not stand to the side and see you tire yourself out by relentlessly studying. i love you, (name), but please, darling, take a break.”
you sigh, nodding. “fine…”
dazai grins, leaning down to whisper to your ear. “good girl~”
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chuuya nakahara
work had ended a little late, so by the time chuuya entered the shared penthouse and took off his fancy coat and hat, you were slowly falling asleep whilst floating in midair.
of course, this did not escape his notice, as soon as he saw you floating around, your study materials such as books, papers, and even your highlighters surrounding you like a protective barrier, he couldn't help but smile in awe. such a pretty sight to behold, and it's all his.
moments like these make him realize the true meaning of being in love.
...that was, of course, until he saw you struggling to stay awake. he glances at the clock and his eyes widen upon seeing the time.
what type of boyfriend would he be if he can't let you rest? he loves you with all of his heart, but he cannot bear to see your tired self push through when you so clearly need to sleep.
he sighs, running a hand through his ginger locks as he contemplates what to do.
on one hand, he can just float up to you and tell you to stop and rest. on the other hand, he himself knows just how stubborn you are that you won't listen to his mere words alone. but maybe the fact that you're practically falling asleep can help him...
the solution he ended up following?
SCENARIO:
you could feel your study materials start to shift away from you, and the feeling of using your ability gave way to the warm sensation and the familiarity of the new ability that now surrounded you and carried you gently down. red, as fiery as fire, as passionate as love, as fierce and as intense as upon the tainted sorrow.
you knew right then that your boyfriend, the feared port mafia executive, had arrived home.
"dollface, you should really sleep," his soft voice chided. you open your eyes sleepily, enough to see chuuya nakahara and realize that he has floated you down in his arms using his ability.
"hello, chuu," you mumble sleepily, yawning. you could hear him click his tongue, but you knew he didn't mean the annoyance. if anything, he was worried. how could he be not when you can barely keep your eyes open?
"come on doll, i'm going to tuck you in bed," he states, his voice lulling you further into sleep. although you so badly wanted to just rest, you knew you had to study more.
"chuuya, i can't," you whine softly, nuzzling into him. "'m not finished..."
"finish them when you wake up, then," he replied, his voice lowering into that husky tone that never fails to grace your stomach with butterflies. "you can't even keep your eyes open, pretty girl. get some rest, alright? ya can't answer anything with lack of sleep."
you pout, knowing full well he was right, and you were just about to argue more, but oh, the way he placed you on the bed was so, so gentle, and the mattress was as soft as a cloud, and the blankets were warm...
chuuya chuckles to himself as he gazes down at your sleeping figure, unbuttoning his shirt and undressing so he can join you in bed, where he can cuddle you all he wants and inevitably wake up with you in his arms just as the sun rises in yokohama.
he placed one last kiss on your head before murmuring, "love you, dollface. sleep tight, pretty girl."
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strawberrynightmare · 6 months
Text
Making hot chocolate for Mikey, Chifuyu, Mitsuya, Koko & Sanzu
Content warning: Let me know if there's anything, just fluff
Mikey
It was routine at this point. Mikey rarely misses an opportunity to come to your place. Then the two of you would rot on the bed/couch and eat mostly unhealthy snacks while talking about nothing. And you would call it “quality bonding time”.
You can’t even tell for 100% sure whether it was a good thing to introduce your special hot chocolate to him or not. He loved it, but demanded it quite often. You even tried to teach him the recipe but he always managed to mess something up.
At this point, you just accepted your fate, but you made him go shopping for you in return. Even if you were somewhat aware that it was most likely someone else who did his job. 
He especially likes to drink it during evenings. His mood instantly improves thanks to it, it makes him sleepy and clingy as his brain turns into mush almost entirely. That being said, of course it’s one of the best ways to get him to calm down, even though it requires specific conditions to be met.
It’s a double-edged sword, though.
Imagine that during one of those peaceful times, his phone rings. And keeps ringing, and keeps ringing. And he’s pulled from his hazy, half-conscious state with immediate dark clouds surrounding his head. 
He picks it up only to hear about a sudden fight with a rival gang which suddenly occurred.
Those poor delinquents better pray because Mikey is fucking pissed.
Several gang members will have to pull him away from the enemy leader because he’s making sure they won’t be able to leave the hospital for at least a good month.
He comes back to you one to a few hours later, all covered in blood and with skin torn on his knuckles. He takes a shower and changes into pyjamas before laying back on the couch and demanding another hot chocolate as if nothing happened in the first place.
Chifuyu
Your boyfriend hugs you from behind with his chin resting on your shoulder. His curious eyes remind you of those of a cat. His mouth soundlessly forms an “o” shape and he nods his head in understanding when you put some pieces of chocolate bar into the mug. 
You can’t resist the urge to put one into his spread lips and he doesn’t complain either. 
“So this is how you make it taste so good.”
“Yup, the chocolate melts and makes the flavour richer, although it also increases the amount of calories. I guess one is connected to the other.”
“I burn a lot of them either way so no worries.” He licked his lips off the remnants of the chocolate. “It smells like heaven.”
“I know right? This is why I choose this particular brand.”
He barely waited a moment for it to cool off before having a taste. Good thing you predicted it first and took countermeasures.
You made yourself comfortable on his bed, reaching for the newest volume of a manga the two of you were reading together.
“Don’t you dare start without me, y/n. It was so hard to avoid all of the spoilers online, it felt like walking on landmines!”
Purely out of spite, you lay on your belly and open the book which earns you screams of protests from your boyfriend. He wastes no time getting on top of you and trying to snatch it from your hands so you hold it just out of his reach. You then roll on your back and he falls softly on the bed right next to you before you both burst out in laughter and reach for your mugs.
You then sat cross-legged on his bed with the manga in your hands. He hugged you from behind and put his chin on your shoulder. Both of you began to read, sometimes laughing together, sometimes commenting or clearing out any doubts and recalling past volumes. All of this while drinking the delicious hot chocolate. Such moments with Chifuyu truly are precious <3
Mitsuya
Since your boyfriend always insists on cooking meals for you, it’s only right for you to make the dessert. Seriously, you don’t even know why you let him do it for you. Each time you try to bring it up and try to convey that he doesn’t have to do that, you get knocked out with stuff like “I like to cook for you though”, “it’s much healthier and more affordable” and the one which always leaves you in a lost position: “You don’t like my cooking?”
Half-dead, you fall to the floor while coughing metaphorical blood as he hums a gentle melody and proceeds to head towards the kitchen to make some food. It was truly a battle lost the moment it began. So you gave up.
Making him hot chocolate was the least you could do for him. He didn’t even protest and let you have your fun the first time you decided to. 
That night, his little sisters were in their beds already. You were watching a somewhat boring movie together and you soon fell asleep on his lap. He glanced at you warmly and shook his head at the chocolate stains left on your mouth. He licked a tissue and began to rub your face like mothers do to their kids except gentler. Thankfully you didn’t wake up.
…Which reminded him that he had yet to drink his own. Sorry, love - he thought before raising the mug to his lips without expecting much. His eyes returned to the screen and then widened in shock upon the taste. Later that week, he tried making it himself, but it didn’t taste half as good as yours. That’s when he decided to get the recipe from you.
***
“Are you sure you want to stand here?”
“Yes love,” he replied seriously with his hands resting on the kitchen counter and his eyes following your movements like those of a hawk.
“Wouldn’t you rather sit over there? I’ll be done in-”
“No need, love,” he gently put his hands on your waist and placed a kiss on your arm.
You raised a brow, but shrugged before pouring some hot water over a mix made of chocolate and powdered cocoa. You then stirred well and took condensed milk out of the fridge. Poured some into the drink. Put it back. Then stirred again before adding the marshmallows.
Mitsuya was taking mental notes the whole time. 
“Wouldn’t you rather use boiled milk for it?” He finally asked.
“That’s too much of a hassle. Besides, there’s only some needed for it to taste good. Plus, milk or coffee cream from the fridge cools down the temperature. Thanks to that, it’s ready to drink almost immediately.”
You gave him his own mug and both of you headed towards your seats and settled into comfortable silence. He couldn’t wait to make it for his little sisters!
(Spoiler: they loved it)
Sanzu
“It feels like drinking liquid sugar,” he noticed and then proceeded to only eat the pink marshmallows.
You barely resisted the urge to kick him. The two of you were resting in his bed. He was sitting and you were laying on the opposite side which resulted in him being right next to your feet. 
“I’ll drink it for you then,” you stretched your hand in his direction, but then he moved away to get the cup out of your reach. 
You were perplexed, to say at least.
“I thought you didn't like it?”
“I never said that?”
You kicked his side which - aside from an irritated expression - did not affect him at all. So you tried again. This time, he grabbed and pulled your ankle towards his face and kissed it while looking you straight in the eyes and smiling. 
“Freak.”
He grimaced. “Your feet stink.”
You sighed and sat up. If Sanzu had dog ears, they would perk up in surprise at that.
“Oh my, it seems that me and my stinky feet will have to leave then.” 
You barely managed to stand up and take a step towards the door before he hugged you by the hips and glued himself to you, making you unable to move without losing your balance.
“I was kidding! I love you and your stinky feet,” he nuzzled his face into your side. 
You tried to make another step forward but the weight he put on you made you lose your balance and fall onto his (luckily) carpeted floor. Concern flashed in his eyes before you smacked his head. And then you groaned when he almost laid on top of you, preventing you from leaving. 
“Am I dating a guy or a puppy?” You complained as he nuzzled his face into your neck. 
“If you’re into this, I wouldn’t mind wearing a collar with a leash.”
“Shut up or I might consider adding a muzzle.” You felt him grin into your skin. 
“Woof woof!”
Koko
If he was being honest, he’d much prefer you sitting next to him, maybe even cuddling. He tried to convince you that you can order take out, or he can take you to a cafe or a restaurant if you want to eat something nice. Damn, he even asked you to come back to him while the water was boiling but apparently it was more “complex” than just pouring hot water over powdered cocoa and stirring. 
He sighed, letting his head drop backwards in defeat. He’d much rather drink cold water and spend more time with you. Although, it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling to have someone put effort for him just because. In fact, it caused a fuzzy feeling in his stomach.
Just as he was about to call for you, you appeared with two mugs of hot chocolate in your hands. He raised one brow at the white and pink, tiny marshmallows richly decorating the top. 
“You might want to drink it before eating the marshmallows. If you eat them first, it will look less tempting.” You sat next to him on the sofa and he wasted no time putting an arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer.
“I see you have this all thought through,” he noticed, while placing a thank you kiss on your temple before taking his own mug into his hands. He noticed you staring at him intensely.
“Please don’t,” he groaned. 
Your gaze didn’t falter. Your breathing became quicker.
“Y/n…” He pleaded. 
Your lip began to tremble. 
“You’re better than that.”
“Choco for Koko.”
“For fuck’s sake-” You barely managed to dodge the pillow aimed at your head.
Your boyfriend shot you one last disappointed look before he took a sip.
And then another. And another.  Before he knew it, it was all gone and he was fishing out the half melted marshmallows from the bottom. 
It was a damn good hot chocolate.
He even contemplated asking for seconds, but it dawned on him that you would have to leave again to do that.
“Did you like it?” You asked while making yourself comfortable in his tight embrace.
“I sure did. Mind selling me the recipe? Just name the price.”
You couldn’t decide whether he was being serious or not so you said the first thing which came to your mind.
“I might want to exchange it. For an… engagement ring.”
Koko turned his face away, almost embarrassed with how wide he grinned. His eyes sparkled uncharacteristically.
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fadingdaggerr · 4 months
Text
would that i
pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader
summary: melissa knew what love should look like, and learned what it shouldn’t be. learning what it actually is takes time | 3.4k
translations: nonna/nonno (grandma/grandpa), t’amu (i love you) | reminder that sicilian is slightly different from italian in dialect
warnings: allusions to cheating (minimal), allusions to unhealthy relationships (minimal), making up my own melissa lore bc i’m so normal about her, kissing/making out
note: a little bit of this was an homage to my grandparents, the people that showed me what love should be. thank u and love u
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When Melissa was in sixth grade, her teacher assigned a two-page essay on what they thought of when they pictured love. The moment Mrs. Erikson said this, Melissa knew she was going to write about her Nonna and Nonno.
Every morning, Nonna made breakfast and coffee, she packed Nonno’s lunch, and always left a note that said T’amu in her flowy cursive. Every evening, Nonno brought in the laundry off the line and folded it while Nonna made dinner. Even when they fought, there was never a loss of their kiss good morning, goodbye, and good night. Only on anniversaries was Nonno allowed in the kitchen, and they’d dance while sauce simmered on the stovetop. Love between them seemed easy and gentle. Melissa spent every Saturday night and Sunday morning across the street at their house, and every time she found something to add to her list of what love looked like and how it should be.
Melissa thought she had found love with Tommy Adkins in eighth grade. She’d even bought a new dress to wear to autumn formal, pink and ruffled and perfect. By the time she was ready to leave, her face almost hurt from the amount of times she redid her makeup so that Tommy would call her beautiful instead of bangin’ for once. That night she watched him dance with Jennifer Milano with a half-baked excuse of him “not wanting to kiss a chick with braces.” Melissa cried for two hours while Nonna told her she was better off, a bowl of pastina pushed her way. She forgot about him by the time Monday rolled around.
High school boyfriends came and went, but in college Melissa fell in love for the first time. A true, deep love with a firefighter-in-training that knew her neighbor. Everytime Joe visited Brian, he stopped across the hall to see Melissa, leaned against the doorway with an easy smile. He was charming, respectful, and funny, everything she had been looking for. Two months after she graduated, he dropped to one knee and she jumped into his arms. They moved from their apartment to a home in south Philly. Melissa worked during the day, and Joe started night shifts at the fire station for the extra pay.
Night shifts began to extend, and Melissa never saw him. He’d eat the plate she’d prepared in the fridge and leave the dirty dish on the counter. Dirt and ash from his boots tracked across her rugs and carpets, scuff marks in her living room. What almost killed her was the dirty cast iron skillet left in the sink. When she brought anything up, he’d deflect and leave. Every now and then, he came home with flowers “just because.” But then flowers began to follow every extra long night, and she could smell the floral perfume that didn’t belong to her and didn’t match the flowers. It took her months to say anything, and all she was met with was eyes that couldn’t look at hers.
Melissa began to think that what her grandparents had could never be hers. A loving life was in the cards, and Joe had only solidified this. She stayed at Barbara’s that night.
A few years later, her perspective was changed when a new fourth grade teacher joined the staff mid-term. Never in her years had she allowed someone in so easily, allowed them to be her friend and not just a coworker. Somehow, in two years, Melissa realized she’d never felt so cared for and loved by anyone.
“Is there a chance I could pour a cup of coffee before you start bursting my ear drums?” Melissa says when Jacob and Janine start babbling behind her about something she didn’t care about at 7:30 on a Friday morning. Ever since she turned onto the street the school is on, a headache had been growing steadily. Staying up late to finish grading was the worst idea she’s had all month. The two teachers cringe slightly, lowering their volume. When the door opened again for you and Barbara to enter chatting with each other, volume lowering at the sight of Melissa sat at the table with fingers pressed to her temples. She hears a bag drop on the table quietly, opening one eye to see you trying to be as quiet as possible as you dig around.
When you finally stop, you pull out a bottle of ibuprofen and pass it to her. She waves it off, muttering a don’t need it. When you don’t reply, she peers up to see you still holding the bottle out with an expectant look on your face. You shake the bottle, “don’t suffer just to look tough.”
“Melissa Ann, take the damn pills,” Barbara orders from her seat, spooning some sugar into her coffee.
“I don’t need ‘em,” she mumbles out again.
You push your hand forward more, “please. If not for yourself, for your students. You’re irritable when you have a headache.” Barbara chuckles and sends a knowing look to Melissa. Janine and Jacob, on the other hand, turn and look at you, fully expecting the red head to make some harsh reply or threat back to you. All she does is puff out a laugh and grab the bottle from your hands. She decided not to remark on the weird looks she was getting from the peanut gallery.
When getting the kids ready for recess, she sees you peering around the corner to the doorway. She holds a finger to ask you to wait, and gets a double thumbs up in return. After zipping many jackets and helping with gloves, she watches the little eagles run outside in the chilly autumn air. As she walks back into her classroom, she sees you sitting in her chair waiting patiently for her. “You know, I don’t let anyone sit in my seat,” she jokes as approaches.
“Good thing I’m not just anyone, now am I?” you joke, standing to meet her.
She fights her smile as she answers quietly, “no, you’re not.” She takes a second to breathe when she sees a grin cross your lips at her comment, “we still on for dinner at mine tonight?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” the grin on your face growing, the giddy feeling in Melissa’s chest with it. You loop your arm with hers and walk towards the lounge.
When Melissa opens the front door, you expect a greeting, but instead you get a groan as she stomps back to the kitchen. Dropping your bag and shrugging off your coat, you walk into the kitchen, placing the box of pastries on the table. Melissa returns to angrily rummaging through the refrigerator, desperately trying to find something. It wasn’t until two hands pulled her back by the shoulders, turning her around. She relaxes into your touch, closing her eyes.
“I’m out of basil,” she says through a sigh.
“Want me to go to the store?” you ask, wanting to remove any stress from her.
“No,” Melissa answers as she opens her eyes, “you just got here, that wouldn’t be fair.”
You laugh, “we could go together. Or we can just be lazy, order a pizza, and not get off the couch.”
“Second one,” she sighs out, pulling away to clean up the dishes she took out. While she’s distracted, you take the time to call in the order, pay, and tip over the phone so that Melissa won’t even have the chance to say herself.
“If there’s pineapple on there, I’m kicking you out,” she yells from the kitchen after she hears you hang up.
“No, veggie. And yes, I asked for no mushrooms. One of these days though, I’ll convert you to being a pineapple woman,” you joke tilting your head back to see her standing behind you, “plus, you wouldn’t dare kick out the person who brought you zeppole.”
She gets closer, leaning over with her hands holding the backrest on either side of your head, “is there chocolate sauce?” The excitement was evident in her tone, bringing butterflies to your stomach. You can’t form words with her standing over you and smiling like that, so you just nod.
Later into the night, the TV played Weeds while you sat in comfortable silence, only breaking it when you both repeated the same joke out loud every now and then. Your legs were thrown over her lap, her fingers playing with the folding fabric of your jeans as she watched the screen. Her subconscious drew her attention toward you, eyes tracing over smile lines and the glowing reflection in your eyes from the TV. She watches you lean forward to grab a zeppole, ready to offer it to her. It’s only then that you catch her stare.
“You okay?” you ask, turning and scooting closer to give her your full attention.
She gives a quick squeeze to your leg, “yeah, hon. I’m better than okay.” She feels even better when you lean into her, placing your head on her shoulder. She drops her head to yours, a deep breath leaving her as she finally relaxes fully for the first time all day.
Some time between then and now, things had changed, Melissa wasn’t exactly sure when. At some point the Friday dinners turned into Saturday plans, then Sunday since the farmer’s market was open, no other reason. Breakfast on those days translated to bringing coffee to each other at work, ignoring the questioning gazes of other staff members as she passed you your coffee, despite having never asked how you took it. What had started with you sleeping on the couch when the night grew later, migrated to the spare bedroom.
On a Sunday night, it changed again. You watched the tail end of an Eagles’ game while sitting in her bed after helping grade book reports. As always, your head rested on her shoulder with her own resting on yours. Anytime something that wasn’t a point being scored happened, she explained it to you, though she knew not a thing she said would help make sense of it. It didn’t matter to you, all you wanted was to hear her voice and have her attention.
“Your bed is comfy,” you mutter when the commercials begin before the last quarter.
A smile crosses her lips, “treated myself to a good mattress when I kicked bozo out. Glad you approve.”
“You deserve nice things,” you say as you settle into her more, and through a yawn add, “the best things.”
That night, you’d both fallen asleep slumped against the headboard, leaning into each other for comfort.
Melissa woke up to a rhythmic thumping under her ear and a hand in her hair gently playing with amber waves. The small smile that came to her lips would have been foreign to her if she wasn’t so comfortable, the content feeling in her chest would be almost alarming. When her eyes cracked open, she recognized her bedroom and sheets. She groaned into the cold morning air, and the hand moved from twirling the ends of her hair to scratching her scalp, making her tuck into the warmth beneath her even more.
“Good morning,” you rasp out, having only been awake a little longer, the only response being another groan. She finally rolls off of you, much to your dismay, and sits up on her elbows, looking at you with sleepy, squinted eyes.
“It’s Monday,” she grumbles.
You chuckle, grabbing her glasses off the nightstand for her, “fine, just morning then.”
Something about this morning felt different to Melissa. You’d never spent the night on a school night, let alone sleep in her bed, but that wasn’t what shook her. It wasn’t you making her coffee, sipping it to make sure it tasted right before handing it to her. It also wasn’t that you turned off her alarm and woke her up yourself without making her ears bleed. She thought it could be that you’d opened the door for her on the way out, or how you offered to drive her to and from work to make up for staying late, but not that either.
Maybe it was how she didn’t want to get out of bed, or how her coffee tasted better than any time she’d made it herself. Or how she hadn’t slept that peacefully in twenty years. It could have been how much she enjoyed being driven to work, and having full control of the songs you listened to on the way there, or the fact that she sped ahead to open a door for you this time. She doesn't have time to dwell on it once she gets to her classroom, a knock on the doorframe comes the second to place her purse on the desk.
“I thought you weren’t in today, I didn’t see your car in the parking lot,” Barbara says as she walks in.
Without looking up from her bag as she pulls out folders, Melissa answers, “I got a ride in.”
“Did you now?” Barbara asks with an amused tone. “And would that someone happen to be the fourth grade teacher that practically lives with you?”
“We don’t live together,” Melissa says incredulously, “we just fell asleep, so we drove in together. It’s not a big deal, it’s not like we’re actually together.”
Barbara can’t hide her laugh, “you fell asleep? Both of you? And where was that?” Melissa only mumbles back, so Barbara presses, “where did you both sleep, Melissa?”
“My bed,” Melissa finally says a little louder, but not much. She wants to send her head through a wall knowing that Barb just figured her out.
“Oh, girl. You are in deep,” Barbara says with a smirk. After she leaves the room, the spiral in Melissa’s head goes faster.
Said spiral carries her through lunch, and only stops when you sit across from her and stare at her for a moment. Her face contorts in a what? look before you reach across the table and brush your fingers through her hair. When you pull back, there’s a purple string from the third graders’ projects between your fingers. Barbara kicks her from under the table, and she kicks back with equal force. They both see you look at them weird, before brushing it off and going back to getting your lunch out. Barbara cocks her head to you, staring at the red head, silently telling her to do something. The look the kindergarten teacher gets back replies not now.
When the end of the day rolls around, Melissa is anxious for your eventual arrival in her doorway, keys swinging around your pointer finger. All she could think about since you parted ways this morning was your hands in her hair and your heartbeat under her ear. She hadn’t felt so content and so at peace in so long, the feeling was so new that it almost scared her. Melissa had to remind herself that this was about you, not anyone else. You’d never hurt, belittled, or offended Melissa, you’d never made it your mission to anger or disregard her, nor had you ever tried putting yourself before her. She knew that feeling this way about you shouldn’t scare her, but it did.
The sound of keys and footsteps in the hallways alerted her to your approaching presence, making Melissa quickly rise to her feet and grab her things, realizing she’d been spaced out since the last student left. As she predicted, you stood there spinning your keys, smile growing when she turned toward you. It drops slightly when you see her smile not reach her eyes. “Ready?” you ask.
“Sure, yeah,” she clears her throat, “let’s go.”
You can tell her mind is running into overdrive as you pull onto her street. When you park in the driveway, you unbuckle to turn in your seat and face her.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
She turns to you with a scrunched face, “what are you, 90?”
You shrug and point to her sleeves, “you’re thinking. You play with the thumb holes when you think.” She’d curse you for noticing if it didn’t make her heart clench. “You don’t have to tell me,” you add, “but I’ll listen, if you want.”
She looks at you for a moment, surrendering with a, “wanna come in?” You only answer by taking your keys out of the transmission, hopping out, and opening the door for her.
The discussion gets put on hold while Melissa heats up leftovers from the night before. She carries both bowls out to the living room where you’re turning on the TV back on for background noise. As Melissa sits down, she faces toward you and you mirror her pose. “Sorry I was acting weird,” she mumbles before taking a bite.
You shake your head, “you’re only allowed to apologize when you’ve done something wrong. Thinking isn’t doing something wrong.” When she doesn’t speak again, you offer up something else, “Ava almost had a heart attack over you this morning.”
She looks at you confused, “were we wearing the same shade of green again?”
“No. She thought you didn’t come to work this morning cause your car wasn’t there, was going off about how she was going to have to sub because there’s still a shortage in the area,” you laugh, “I had to tell her I drove you in, which also ended me in a twenty minute interrogation during my prep period.”
“What sort of interrogation?” she asked, already nervous.
You look down the bowl in your lap as you speak, poking the food around, “the kind where she asks for a detailed account of my whole weekend. Weird amounts of detail too, mealtimes, where I slept, where we went, what shows we watched.”
“What’d you tell her?” Melissa can feel fear creeping into her bones.
“That we went to the farmer’s market, watched sitcoms, and I slept in the guest room,” you answer truthfully, “and what did you say to Barbara?” Her head snaps to you, you lean your head to the side, “she stopped by to ask me about my weekend, she seemed a little too excited to see me if you hadn’t spoken to her first.”
Melissa moves to place her bowl on the coffee table before looking back to you, “she asked why we drove in together. I said we fell asleep, and she asked where we fell asleep. Might’ve told her you slept in my bed.”
“It’s impossible to lie to her,” you say as you copy her move. You’re silent for a moment, then finally ask, “what were you thinking about?”
She takes in a deep breath and exhales to calm her nerves, “this morning. This whole weekend, but mostly this morning.” She glances up, and sees your face had dropped, worry setting in, and she’s quick to revise her statement, “in a good way. This morning, this weekend, they meant a lot to me.”
At her words, your lips stretch into a smile, “it meant a lot to me, too.” She can see you internally question saying the next part, “and you. you mean a lot to me, a crazy amount.”
It’s her turn to smile like an idiot now, a pretty blush covering her cheeks, “you mean a crazy amount to me, too. Being around you it’s... It’s easy. I like being with you.”
“I do, too. Sometimes, when I’m here I almost forget I live somewhere else. The second I step inside and I’m with you, I don’t know, leaving just feels wrong,” you say honestly, eyes flickering over her face as you speak, scanning for a rejection you won’t find.
“Waking up to you was nice,” Melissa mumbles, “you’re a pretty good pillow, if I do say so myself.”
Your airy laugh makes her heart race, it goes even faster when you lean in to reply, “I wouldn’t mind waking up that way again... and again, and again.”
She matches you lean in, smiling, “yeah?” Your noses are almost touching, she can feel your breath just barely touching her face. Her eyes flick to yours and see you looking back, faint lines forming as your lips turned upward as her gaze.
“Being with you makes sense,” you say quietly into the space between you, eyes flicking to her lips then back up.
Her hand moves up to your cheek, warm hands and cool rings holding with gentle affection. Olive eyes look into yours for permission, but your answer is closing the space between you. Her other hand flies to hold your neck, your hands holding her wrists. They slide from her arms to her waist, pulling her closer and crawling beneath her shirt to rest on her skin. She takes the chance to straddle your lap as her tongue slides over your bottom lip, asking for the instantly granted entry. Her lips were soft, savoring the feeling of yours against hers, committing it to memory.
Your arms tighten around her, holding her as if she’s this precious thing, and it makes her only give more into you. Her lips slow, and you can almost feel the love she’s trying to convey in her action. But your lungs can only survive so long, and she pulls her lips away, resting her forehead against yours.
“Stay?” she whispers through her breaths as she recovers.
“Wasn’t planning on leaving,” you mumble back, dazed from her kiss. You duck foreward, hugging her as she still sits in your lap. Her arms circle your shoulders, hearing you mumble into her neck, “I love you.”
She presses a kiss to your head, “I love you.”
Melissa’s heart beat against your ear, calm and steady. The smell of her perfume and honey shampoo flooded your senses, making you nudge into her further. You tilted your head, lips pressing softly to the skin of her neck, moving upwards back to her lips, pressing a long, sound kiss there. You pull away to look at her, smoothing back copper strands.
“Is it too early to go lay in bed for the rest of the night?” you ask quietly.
She huffs a laugh, “I was gonna suggest the same thing.”
By the fifth episode of Weeds, Melissa noticed your breathing even out. She peered down at you where you lay curled into her side with your head on her chest, arm slung over her middle, lips slightly parted. She presses a kiss to your head as she shuts the TV off, and lays there to just bask in you being with her. She’d never felt so adored, so cared for, so at ease. This is was it was supposed to be.
feedback appreciated as always <3
title from would that i by hozier (i’m sure everyone knew that. we’re all gay here)
308 notes · View notes
makncheese12 · 10 months
Text
Top Shelf pt. 5
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 6, Part 7
Masterlist
Summary: being the kid of a well-known book store owner was easy, so was running into famous people. But being book smart doesn’t make everyone people smart.
A/N: the location set for where they eat isn’t a place in New York I think but it is where I’m from so I’m using it🥲
You guys would be astonished if you knew who the characters I created represented
I had a hard time writing for the character I put in here because I’m still not sure how to write people like her🥲
Warning: my writing, language,
Jenna Ortega x fem!reader
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“I changed my mind,” Lyle says suddenly as you dry your hair off glancing toward him. Hair dye setting in hair that is now dyed half pink and half black as he smiles down at his phone.
The boy had an unhealthy obsession with dying his hair lately and you had to be the one to dye it.
“About what?” You ask tightening the towel around your body as you walk out of the bathroom and toward you closet. “This is my favorite.”
He holds up a picture of you and Jenna walking down the street from the last few days making you roll your eyes.
The two of you had hung out a quite a few times after the first time and you were starting to get used to the both her and the paparazzi’s presence in your life.
You were actually enjoying it. The scandal online of people thinking the two of you are dating with how much you two are together, not to mention the Instagram follow.
The photos that were taken of you both were decent.
It’s funny really. The pictures, the edits, being stopped suddenly in the street so Jenna could take a picture with a fan or sign something. You were enjoying seeing her interact with them and how different she acted with you.
The only downsides were the amount of threats and questions you were getting on Instagram. It got to the point where you had to turn off you messages.
Another being that when they took pictures of you it was always you looking at Jenna some type of way and it irked your nerves at how obvious your love struck state was.
“You just said that about the last one you saw.” You reply as you pull an outfit off the hangers.
“Yeah but this one is the one.” He says, rolling onto his back on your bed. “You two look so cute in it, plus your making lovey dovey eyes at her, as usual.”
You huff out before letting the towel drop and start to get dressed. “What’s you guys relationship, anyway?” He asks without looking up knowing you were changing.
What was it really? Truth be told, you didn’t know yourself.
“We’re friends, what else?” You say pulling your shirt over your head. He lets out a loud groan, plopping his phone down before rolling around on your bed.
“You cannot be serious right now.” He says now laying on his stomach and looking up at you.
You let out a huff pulling your pants up. You were just friends, friends who text and go out a lot. He was just jealous your time was being taken away from him surely.
You’d have to admit, spending time with Jenna was way better than spending time with Lyle. Not that you didn’t enjoy Lyle’s company it was just that Jenna gave you other feelings than Lyle ever could.
While Lyle made you feel disgust, happiness and frustration Jenna made you feel nervous, excitement and attraction.
The feelings were definitely different.
“You cannot be serious right now.” You repeat his words in a high pitch mocking tone before tossing your towel in the basket and making your way toward your desk.
“At what point will you take me seriously?” He asks as Achilles jumps on his back before settling into his new found seat.
“At what point will you be serious?” You ask. “Right now.” He replies, tossing his phone on the bed and looking toward you.
“You two are literally so cute together but very oblivious.” He says making you press your lips together and roll your eyes.
“I’m so serious, like,” he says sitting up and Achilles falls off before being picked up and put into his lap.
“I’ve seen the videos and pictures, one looking away while the others stares or the way you smile at each other.” He rambles as you let out a sigh.
It was true that you couldn’t deny your feelings for Jenna, Lyle knew that. The way she makes your heart beat faster at her unrelenting stare, the way her laugh makes you want to smile.
But you couldn’t assume her feelings for you, of course she wouldn’t have any other than friend ship.
“Just because you see something doesn’t make it real.” You reply, interrupting his list making him roll his eyes.
“I know what I see and I can see the attraction coming from both of you and onto the other.” He says menacingly stroking Achilles who purrs out closing his eyes.
“I never said I wasn’t attracted to her,” you argue shaking your head and he raises an eyebrow. “I just think she doesn’t feel the same thing.”
The man lets out a hum of slight disapproval. “Obliviousness is truly a torture.” He says clicking his tongue and shaking his head.
“You have to show your attraction, not that you already have with those looks but you also have to say and show it.” He finishes and you knit your eye brows together.
Did he straight up want you to confess without knowing if she returned the feeling?
“How exactly?” You raise an eyebrow at him and lean back into your desk chair.
“Allow me to demonstrate.” Oh god.
The man stands and grabs your arms to pull you onto the bed to sit next to him. He sits closer to you and makes sure to get into your personal space. “This is weird.” You mumble scooting away from him slightly.
He only responds by scooting closer to you and looking into your eyes. You look around for a moment, unsure of what he was doing.
He continues to stare and you continue to look away, avoiding his eyes. “There,”
“What?” You ask, now confused with the man who was supposedly trying to help you.
“You have this issue of not being able to hold eye contact, it’s a form of attraction through body language.” He says, smirking down at you as you roll your eyes.
“It makes you seem sexy and mysterious.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you before leaning in with a kissy face and you stop immediately with your palm. “You’re not sexy nor mysterious at all.”
“Yeah, but I try.” He shrugs leaning back slightly. “But it really should work if someone finds any attraction toward you.”
“Okay, cupid,” you snort before scooting away from him once again. “Only problem is is that I’m not attracted to you.” You finish as the boy scoots closer to you.
He once again ignores you as he yanks your legs to face him. “Pay attention, demonstration number two.”
He puts his legs in the same position as yours, along with his posture.
“What is this?” You ask, once again confused as the man copies your movements. “It’s a big sign mostly, copying the movement of the person you like or mirroring the position. you used to do it a lot in high school when you dated that senior chick.” He replies and you send him a glare.
“I did not date her.” You reply, crossing your legs. “Yeah,” he says copying your movements. “But you had sex with her it’s the same thing.”
“You and I have very different perspectives on dating— stop that!” You raise your voice slightly as the man uncrosses his legs along with yours.
“Demonstration number three!” He claps before leaning his shoulder toward yours, body very close to yours as you try to lean away from him.
“Let me guess,” you huff out pushing his shoulders away from your own.
The man never had any form of personal space, even in your early years or when you first met. He was always in someone’s bubble.
“They lean toward you while your talking to them, focusing only on you.” You say as the man leans closer with a cheeky smile.
“Ding ding ding.” The mimicked sound of a bell makes you roll your eyes. “And tonight I will be on the look out for those signs.” He says smiling to himself in thought.
“Speaking of,” you say standing up and grabbing a towel from a pile. “Let’s get your hair done so we can get ready to go.”
“Insta story!” He grabs his phone before rushing past you and into the bathroom. You shake your head and let out a quiet chuckle at his obsession with pictures.
You all had that obsession though. Posting pictures and moments you like to have for later and to look at when you got older or grew apart. Not that he’d ever allow that to happened.
But it got to the point where you were scared of the pictures he had, you knew he had bad ones but you didn’t know how many. The scary part was that he had the power to post it whenever he wanted.
He should be afraid of the ones you had too.
“Hurry, I need to get a good angle before you wash it all out.” He rushes as he holds in the camera to the mirror as you grab gloves and begin putting them on ignoring the clicking sounds.
“Don’t worry, I’ll only post the good ones of you so your boo doesn’t see your bad angle.” He says while scrolling through the pictures making you roll your eyes.
“She’s not my boo.” You mumble and he snorts. “Whatever you say.”
————
“Remember,” the man walking next to you says after pulling your head phones off. “Look for my three attraction signs.”
You huff out and nod while scooting closer toward him as more people entered the train.
“And if she doesn’t show any signs?” You ask, chest against his as someone bumps into you. You both send a subtle glare before looking back toward each other.
“Then you show them,” he smirks down at you, hair tied up in a half up half down style but still having some strands cover his face. “I’m sure she’s not as dense as you are.”
You now send him the glare as you glance down at your phone before smiling at the sight of Jenna’s double text before texting back.
Jenna -
We’re on the way now:)
My friend can’t wait to meet you!
You -
Lyle is just as enthusiastic about meeting you
We’re on the train about be there
Jenna -
Cant wait to meet him
“‘Love struck’ is definitely the word to describe you.” Lyle states and your smile falls looking up at him.
“Don’t hide it now, I’ve already seen you smiling at your phone like she’s there for real.” He rolls his eyes before checking his own phone.
“Whose her friend anyway?” He asks and you shrug. “She won’t say, says it’s a surprise.”
“Great, yet another sexy and mysterious individual in our lives.” He shakes his head and you hit his chest with the back of your hand.
The train comes to a slow stop before the doors open allowing you both to make your way out and toward the exit.
It’s a struggle though as you move past the many people in the train station trying to find a way out without pushing.
“Jeez, the tourist this time of year are always so annoying.” The man mumbles, grabbing your hand. He was right, people wanting to spend Christmas in New York was a hassle but it was worse after Christmas was over.
“Watch it!” A man calls pushing past your shoulder. “Sorry..” You mumble getting closer to Lyle as the man glares down at you before moving through the crowd once more.
“Asshole.” Lyle mumbles, wrapping his arm through yours to keep you close as you both finally make it out of the crowded staircase.
“Come on, before we’re late meeting your boo and her friend.” The man pulls you through the street as you groan.
“She’s not my boo! Stop saying that it’s so weird.” You say as he drags you through the crowd. “But you want her to be.” He calls out in a sing song voice that makes you gag.
He slows down after a moment, deep in thought as you stare up at him.
Another moment goes by before he lets out a hum.
“You never really confirmed it,” he says glancing down toward you. “If you actually want her or not. Yeah, you said you were attracted to her but not if you actually liked her.”
The statement causes your entire face to heat up as you look away from the boy.
You never really thought about it, mostly thinking about how stunning she looked or when she would text and ask to hang out next. Never once did you think about if you could actually be in a real relationship with her.
“In a sense..” you mumble scratching the back of your head. He raises his eyebrow at you and waits patiently for you to finish.
You both take notice to people glancing in your direction, whispers suddenly surround you. Something you were still getting used to.
“I mean, I do like her.” You start your ramble and the boy smiles. “She’s amazing, perfect even. Her personality is even better than it is on TV, she’s funny, way more considerate of where I want to go with her, she talks just enough to where I can also talk, she’s absolutely gorgeous,” you continue your list and Lyle nods, smile growing as you speak.
He had never seen you so passionate about something other than the music you listen too or something you’ve hyper fixated on. So listening to you speak of something — or rather someone — else was definitely a sight for him to see.
He knew the brunette had you wrapped around her finger just by your long list, even if you didn’t know it yourself.
“And did I mention she has a great sense of style?” You suddenly come to a stop of your rambling. “I’ve seen it plenty to know.” He laughs and you groan out.
“Okay, so why don’t you make a move exactly?“ he asks and your smile falls.
“Why would she say yes to me?” You ask lowly as the boys smile falls to.
She had many other options with people who could treat her to a life of luxury or even just treat her better. So why would she pick the weird library kid who stays inside playing video games all day?
“You’re all those things too, minus to the style of course.” Lyle tries to comfort you only for you to elbow him in his gut.
“I’m being serious,” he laughs grabbing your arm and pushing it away lightly. “You’re just as amazing as anyone else. You don’t give yourself enough credit.” He finishes with a small smile.
You nod slowly before looking back forward and grabbing for his hand.
“Don’t be gross now.” You mumble and the boy chuckles to himself.
You both continue to walk through down the street before arriving at the location sent to you by Jenna making Lyle let out a loud gasp.
“Sushi?” He asks, arms spread out as he gestures to the red sign ‘Kenko’s habachi’ as if he was trying to hug it. “How’d she know?! What’d you tell her?” He questions are more of demands as he turns to you.
“Nothing, as I said.” You say, stuffing your hands in your pockets. “She has taste.”
A grimace is set on his face at your comment. “Please don’t tell me your referring to yourself.” Your face falls and you point to it, clearly annoyed at his comment after your last conversation.
“Kidding,” he says turning back toward the building like a child in a toy factory. “So how does this work? Do we go inside and wait?”
“We just wait, I usually do.” You say, taking a seat on a nearby bench as the man continues to stare up.
“What a good dog.” He replies only giving you a glance. “But what about seats?” He asks mc ignoring your loud huff.
“Usually taken care of.” You say before slipping your head phones back on and turning up the sound to drown out what ever he says.
You close your eyes and begin to think of the various ways this night could go. Lyle embarrassing you to death, the so called signs he wants you to use and look for, Jenna’s friend, how Jenna looks. Anything to pass the time before you come to a realization.
How long was she staying in New York?
She had been here for about a month and half now, at least since you’ve known her. She was bound to leave for LA again to be with her family and home again.
The thought made you feel some sort of dread. The relationship you both built could go crumbling down once she left and you couldn’t do anything about while all the way across the United States.
Then again what could you do? Ask her not to return to her home and stay with you? Not possible. You weren’t in any position to ask such a question but that wouldn’t stop you from begging if you had a choice to.
Who wouldn’t want to be on the knees in front of such a woman after all?
You’re pulled from your thoughts as your head phones are yanked off. Your eyes snap open to see Lyle glaring down toward, Jenna trying to hold in her laugh and a girl who’d you recognized after watching Jenna’s most recent show.
You didn’t know her name but you knew not to call her by the name you knew her by, that would end horrible on your end by Lyle.
“Hey,” Jenna says as you stand up and snatch your head phones back from Lyle. “Hey.” You reply and Lyle makes a face.
“‘Hey’? That’s it?” He whispers to himself as if he were expecting more and you send him a glare.
“We’ve gotta stop meeting like this.” Jenna says gesturing to your head phones as you put them back in their case.
“Are you suggesting that I have a head phone problem?” You ask, smirk in your face as you shove the container into your pocket.
She considers the question for a moment before nodding. “Maybe a little?” She says and your face falls as it does whenever Lyle tries to say something funny.
“I’m only saying you have them in all the time right before I see you.” She defends putting her hands up.
“What else am I meant to do? Just sit there or walk? No, I gotta have some sort of background noise that’s not yelling or cars honking.” You huff out and shake your head.
Jenna’s smile grows as she looks up at you.
You glance to Lyle who puts up a single finger mouthing ‘number one’ making you internally roll your eyes.
Your eyes travel back to Jenna who continues to smile and stare and you can’t help but agree with. The eye contact was insanely attractive when it came to her as you try your hardest not to look away from hers.
You both continue to stare unbeknownst to the pair beside you. It was starting to become unbearable for the two, is this all what you two did?
Sure, it was only a few moments that and passed but it was still awkward.
Lyles eyes travel to the girl Jenna brought as he presses his lips with a suggestive look on his face that makes the girl smile and nod in agreement to his silent statement.
“Well then!” Lyle calls out clapping his hands together. “Re-introductory time,” he smiles and holds out his hand to Jenna.
“Great to meet you again on less awkward time, I’m Lyle.” He says as she takes his hand and shakes it. “Nice to meet you, i’ve heard a lot about you.” She says and Lyle smirks.
“As have I about you.” Your cheeks rise in heat as you clear your throat and look away from the two.
“Oh! And this is Emma.” Jenna introduces and the girl steps forward with a adorable smile you can’t help but notice.
“Hi, I’ve also heard a lot about you.” She laughs as she shakes your hand. Jenna’s cheeks also get warm as she she sends a small kick to her friends foot you don’t seem to notice.
“It’s nice to meet you, Emma.” You say before Lyle begins rushing the three of you.
“Sushi time, let’s go. Let’s go!” The man states as you all make your way inside.
“I’m beginning to see what you meant by him being a bit much.” Jenna says watching Lyle make his way toward the fish tank like a child.
You huff out before going after him. “Dude,” you mumble as you watch him watch the fish. “You’ll get to eat some in a bit, stop slobbering on the glass.”
“You two really are bad at reading signs.” He replies, head turning side ways but eyes never leaving the tank. “You’re trying too hard to act natural, just relax.”
You scoff before pulling him back toward the duo only to see Emma whispering something to Jenna whose face had only become more red.
The waitress grabs four menus and makes her way toward the back of the restaurant.
“I love your hair, by the way.” Emma says, falling back to walk with Lyle who gives her a toothy smile. “Why thank you, I just got it done.” He says as if he had paid to get it done, you should have made him pay.
You watch as the waitress places the menus down in a booth before making your way to one side and taking a seat. Jenna not too far behind you as she subconsciously decides to sit with you.
Lyle looks back at Emma with the same suggestive look on his face as he allows her to enter first before following after.
He takes notice to how close you both sit and allows a small smirk to set into his face before opening his menu and slamming it shut immediately.
You send him a questioning look as you opening your own. You places his hand on the table and drums two fingers on the table, looking around trying to be discreet.
You let out a quiet huff before looking back down to your menu, unable to resist the urge to look through your peripheral view to see he was in fact right.
Jenna seemed to be doing what Lyle was doing earlier. Your legs were slightly tilted toward hers and so were hers, hands holding the menu as you did.
But then again she was very focused on said menu, not enough to be able to copy anything you were doing. You were glad he was sort of wrong but also disappointed.
“You’d definitely like the shrimp tempura, it’s actually cooked but also really good for sushi.” Lyle states as he points to Emma’s menu, elbows on the table as he leans over to look over her menu. You watch Emma’s eyebrows raise as he continues to recommend different things, clearly listening carefully as she nods along.
A small smile forms on your face, his lack of personal space was indeed always there. Even for strangers. But then again that was his specialty, finding friends by just simply being himself rather than acting awkward.
But then there was his humor that threw most people off, very dark. You were used to it though, him mentioning things that would put him in an insane asylum before laughing to himself making the people who get it laugh as well.
“What are you getting?” Jenna’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts as your eyes snap from Lyle and Emma to Jenna who seemed to be sitting much closer than before.
You lean over to look at her menu forgetting about your own in your hand as you point to the thing you get the most.
She scrunches her nose — the action absolutely adorable — slightly as she read the description, clearly displeased with you answer. “Really?”
You shrug before closing your own menu and sliding it forward. “It’s what I’ve eaten for the past few times, i think it’s good.” You lean against your hand on the table, body turned to her more.
She nods to herself for a moment before looking back down to her menu, once again you find yourself jealous of a menu.
Lyle takes notice to your longing stares and Jenna obliviousness take scowls in distaste at the sight.
With how much you talked about her he would think you would be flirting at this point with how much you’ve hung out. But no, you clearly are too much of an idiot not to see both you and Jenna’s body language toward each other.
“But what is the best platter?” Emma asks suddenly and your attention is suddenly drawn toward her as you lean over the table to talk.
He gapes at you for a moment, wondering why you would take your attention off your ‘date’ to recommended things to his before he got the chance.
You had a goddess next to you and you decided to talk about platters? He decides then and there it was time to take matters into his own hands.
His eyes travel to Jenna who no longer looks at her menu, instead toward you and Emma with a look in her eyes Lyle knows inside and out.
He stares at her and waits for a moment, clearly intent on getting her to look back at him and she does.
He narrows his eyes her before tilting his head which makes her in return knit her eye brows. He glances toward you then back to her before raising an eyebrow.
Jenna too glances at you before biting her lip nervously before looking back to him. He widens eyes while keeping his eyebrow raised and tilting his head to the side to gesture toward you.
Jenna hesitates for a moment, looking between Lyle and you before nodding along with Lyle who lets out a silent breath.
At least someone took his hints.
She sends him one last glance as you sit back into your seat, all four of you now waiting on the waitress, Lyle and Emma taking up a new conversation topic.
“I meant to tell you before,” Jenna says suddenly catching both you and Lyles attention. “Your outfit looks really nice.” The compliment is subtle yet noticeable.
You look down to look at your outfit you had actually tried on. Ever since you met Jenna you had actually been trying on looking good instead of wearing simple jeans and a sweat shirt. Not that you’d ever tell her that.
“Thank you, my mom actually bought this for me.” You say and Lyle froze before his eyes travel to you in horror.
Who responds to a compliment like that?
“Well, she knows what colors look good on you.” Retorts, saving her own compliment. It works as your face heats up and you smile before chuckling nervously as the waitress walks up you table.
Lyle felt his eye twitch as you order, the sudden urge to strangely you was set into his mind as his finger start to flex.
The audacity of you not complimenting her back was an atrocity.
His eyes travel to Jenna who seemed well satisfied with her compliment and your reaction, far more confident than before. It did not satisfy Lyle.
As the waiter walks away, Lyle felt the need to punish you for your crimes. He quickly kicks his foot out attempting to kick you but instantly regrets it.
“Ow!” Jenna calls out and his eyes go wide. “What’s wrong?” You ask as soon as the word leaves Jenna’s lips.
“Did you just kick me?” Jenna asks, looking up to Lyle whose face sets into panic before looking to you. The worried look on your features evident as you place a hand on Jenna’s arm. He decides this was a far better punishment.
“Yeah,” he nods and looks to you. “Did you just kick her?” The attitude in his accusation bewilders you as your mouth hangs open.
“What?” You ask, glaring at the boy who glares back. “Why would you kick her?” He asks, gesturing his hands toward you and you let out a laugh.
“That’s funny,” you say shaking your head at the boy who crosses his arms. “I’m sitting right next to her how would that be possibly?” You ask and the man shrugs in exaggeration.
“I don’t know, you tell me!” He says and you huff out. Jenna, the pain now forgotten, finds the petty argument amusing as Emma just sits there sipping her drink enjoying the drama completely oblivious to what’s going on.
————
Lyle watches as the two of you speak while walking ahead, well more so Jenna talks and you stare shamelessly. You two walk closely, closer than the distance He and Emma walked together or just regular friends. Further proving his third demonstration to be correct.
His eyes travel to the paparazzi who also shamelessly stared and took pictures then back to you.
You two were to busy in your own little world to really notice. Now he sees why there were so many pictures, you two were just out there rather than hiding away in the safety of privacy.
The privacy you used to enjoy before Jenna, the privacy you needed for your family but just didn’t care anymore.
“Those two are so annoying,” he mumbles, catching Emma’s attention. “I mean, they’re clearly interesting in each other but Y/N doesn’t want to admit it!”
Emma’s eyes light up at his statement. “Exactly, thank you!” Emma says and the man’s eyes snap to hers. “All she talks about is Y/N.” Emma comes back to a sudden quietness the two had and his interest is now piqued.
“Go on,” he says, nudging her with his elbow and raising his eyebrows.
“I mean, she doesn’t only talk about Y/N but whenever she gets tracked up in her phone it always ‘Y/N texted’ or ‘I’m texting Y/N, hold on’. It’s ridiculous but what’s really annoying is when we try to get her to ask her out and she says that that’s a stupid thing to do and doesn’t think she likes her back or something.”
Lyle’s head snaps to her, eyes wide. “She thinks that?” He asks making them slow down so you two didn’t hear their conversation.
Emma hesitates for a moment, clearly debating if Jenna would like this or not but ultimately decides to nod.
“But why?” He asks and the girl tilts her head slightly in question. “I can understand Y/N because of many different reasons but Jenna? She can have castle full of people to choose from and they’d all want her.”
“Maybe that’s why,” Emma says. “Because of how many people she could possibly have, she doesn’t think that any want her for her.”
Lyle takes a moment to think that through and she was in fact right.
She met you by chance and you didn’t know who she was which most likely made the situation feel real. She could tell you about herself without you knowing information from online — true or not true— and you could tell her about yourself without lying to make her more interested in you.
It was all authentic and she could play it out her own way, especially with you already barely knowing her.
“You’re right,” he mumbles in response as he watches Jenna laugh and you smile at her. The smile was one he didn’t recognize, it was far warmer and soft than what he was used to.
Yes, she truly did have you wrapped around her finger.
“We should totally help each other out,” he says suddenly making the girls smile raise. “I could give you little pointers of what Y/N says and you give me one’s Jenna says, you know to keep things up to date for them.”
Emma’s eyes travel to the two of you as you both talk, still ignoring the paparazzi who try to get the best shots in strange positions.
“Plus, I do like to give Y/N little heart attacks so having information on Jenna would help with that.”
The girls smiles once again, clearly interesting on doing the same to Jenna as she pulls her phone out.
————
Lyle once again watches as you hug Jenna before she waves and gets into her car in absolute disgust and disappointment at how short a time you held her. You could have let it linger for a moment, he wouldn’t have minded waiting another moment.
She gets into the tented window car, Emma following suit as she taps her phone to Lyle who nods and throws her a thumbs up.
Her smirk doesn’t go unnoticed by Lyle as you shut the door behind and watch the cat drive off.
Once it’s completely out of view, he hits the back of your head with the back of his hand. And he does so very hard.
“Ow! What the hell!” You hiss out as your hand comes up to hold it. “I’m starting to see why you’re so worried,” he states angrily before turning on his heels and walking.
“You’re absolutely useless to my game of entertainment. You could have at least done a little bit of flirting.”
He continues to walk, now blocking out your yelling and argument as he sets in his plan to do something about this himself since you can’t do a single thing on your own anymore.
Read next part here! (Coming soon)
A/N: I know this is a itty bit rushed but idc cause the juicy stuff is going to happen now, me and my friend have decided to stop teasing and actually get this done.
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bigfatbimbo · 26 days
Text
Get Used to Disappointment —
1k words,, Lute x reader
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a/n — Upset because tumblr took the yellow font option away from me. It would went so well, what the fuck guys.
warnings — not fluff but not angst, kinda just a really gay fight scene, homoerotic rivalries, so I guess implied fem reader, no pronouns though, mentions of blood, unhealthy relationships
summary — Each year on extermination day, you and Lute face off. Whilst ignoring growing feelings for you, she trains to best you in your next fight.
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You were a good fighter. Lute knew that. However, it wasn’t rare that after a year of training for the extermination, she happened to forget just how good.
When she trained, she thought of you. You and your playful attitude despite fighting and almost being bested by an angel soldier. But, it was the fact you could keep up with her that drove her nuts.
It wasn’t like she was obsessed, though. She hated you the perfectly normal amount for a rival. From your soft lips and how your teasing smile looks against them, to your fighting stance and how you look with a bloody nose.
After hours, she’d think to herself, i’d like to see that demon try to win against this. And of course she’d be fully prepared for victory against you. 
However, just like every year, she remembered how good you were at first sight.
You stood fending off angels and helping smaller demons into cubbyholes to hide out. She grimaced, flying down to meet you.
Your concentrated face faltered into a reassured smile when you saw her, “‘bout time you showed up, angel.”
The nickname made her sick to her stomach. She frowned. Well, it definitely her feel something in the pit of her stomach.
“Don’t think i’d skip a chance at finally taking you and your vile demon kind down. Think you can keep up this time, demon?”
You laugh slightly, walking closer to her, “Aw, look at that. I get my very own nickname too. How cute.”
Anger shoots through her and she lunges at you with her spear. Quickly, you dodge and roll underneath it, skidding to a stop by a nearby pile of debris.
C’mon, you think, there’s gotta be something here to fight with.
Lute doesn’t wait to access your position, instead once again thrashing her spear towards you. 
You duck out of reflex and jump out of the way, “Fighting your opponent when they’re empty handed? Scared what i’ll do with a weapon, Lute?” 
Your teasing doesn’t go unnoticed. In fact, she fully stops and looks around for a weapon, still keeping an eye on you.
Then her gaze shifts back towards your stance. Just when you think she’s going to jump for you, she passes you.
Turning around quickly, not wanting a knife in the back, you see her. Her arm is extended towards you, offering an exorcist spear.
“Are you blind? It was right behind you,” she begins to circle you slowly.
Your eyes follow her and you guard yourself, trying hard not to leave any weak spots exposed.
“Well, no need for the suspense then. You want a fair fight or what?” You smile, cracking your knuckles and rolling your neck.
She tosses the spear towards you. You catch it in one hand and barley have time to position yourself before she’s on you again.
Jabbing her weapon at you, you block eloquently and shoot for her stomach. She just barely dodged the attack and looks up at you momentarily.
Your spear meets hers with a clank and you shift forward to push her back.
“So how’s heaven?” you ask casually, smiling far too brightly as your weapons slam together. 
She adjusts her position, feet moving to the side and aiming her spear for your gut. You jump away and she moves towards you.
“Better than this god forsaken place,” she concludes, stalking towards you as you continue to barely block her attacks, “Stop distracting me, demon. You know you can’t win.”
“Uh-huh. Just trying to make conversation, sweetheart.” She scoffs at the name and charges you with more aggression. “Careful, your sides exposed.”
She looks to her stomach area to see if you were correct in your analysis. You were, but she didn’t have time to process that thought when you take the moment to make a shallow cut on the side of her cheek.
Lute jumps back startled, and for a moment, you actually look sorry. Before you can say anything, she starts circling you once again.
“Nice trick, demon filth. Now try to block this,” she uses her wings to lift her up, flying down at you and attacking from about three feet above you.
In the most literal way possible, she had the higher ground. You don’t let it show.
Swiftly blocking her hits you manage, “Oh ‘demon filth.’ That’s a new one, very cute. Should we try out ‘honeybuns’ next?”
Lute groans loudly, dropping her wings slightly and tripping you up with her spear, making you fall flat on your ass, “We are not a couple! Stop playing mind games and fight me.”
Her voice had that excited aggression in it that coated her sentence in an angry rasp. She aims her spear at the ground where you lay and throws it. 
You roll out of the way swiftly. Thank god, Lute can’t help but think. However, her gratitude fades away when you grab her weapon from out of the ground.
Running toward her, she backs away, considering what her next attack should be. However you stop in your tracks directly in front of her and offer her spear up to her directly.
There was not distance between you too as she grabbed the weapon, hands staying on yours for far too long.
“So we aren’t a couple? Because I think we’d be a match made in heaven,” You smile weakly, worn out from the fight.
Unlike usual, your jokes draws no reaction from her, only a blank confused stare. You both breathe loudly as you look at each other, silence overtaking the both of you while you catch your breath.
“Where’d you learn to fight like that?” She blinks, gravel in her voice from shouting. 
“Nowhere of consequence.”
“You keep up with exterminators in battle. I—“ she breathes, brows furrowing irritably, “I have to know.”
“Well then,” your thoughts wonder to a moment only seconds before. ‘We are not a couple! Stop playing mind games and fight me.’
She was right, of course. You weren’t dating. What you had was simply a rivalry. Nothing more. Nothing less. After all, you were just trying to kill each other
“Get used to disappointment.”
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a/n — expanding the rival sinner reader and Lute universe because i’m obsessed with her and already have another fic in mind.
Anyways, stand back Vox and Alastor, you and life’s rivalry is way more intense and queercoded.
OH ALSO the title and last line is a princess bride reference sorry not sorry.
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Text
So! The demo is finally out! Or, a bit of it is. What’s next?
Let’s run over a few questions, so hopefully everyone is in the loop!
Q: Why is it only a little bit after so long?
A: Development has been all over the place and a big reason is just how difficult it can be to mediate between artists, programmers, writers, etc.. Mental and physical health, personal emergencies, etc.. are also a big part of this— and it wasn’t anticipated that this would eat up so much time.
The original game was planned to have Sauce (presently speaking!) handling a large majority of tasks all at once. So— when health stalled, production stalled.
Of course, healing took a bit of time to. And even now, that’s why so much of the demo is left unfinished. Overall— it wasn’t possible to complete the demo in the same amount of time the original demo was completed because realistically speaking— that was extremely unhealthy and rushed.
Because of that tight deadline, 48 hours to a week, many significant errors or retconned elements made their way into the game. A huge toll was taken that resulted in extreme burnout after. Quality (as can be seen in the CGs) suffered. An emphasis on quality is currently being prioritized, but I can safely say that I am no longer able to work at my original 2021-2022 pace.
Q: Why are you (Sauce) working alone?
A: At this point in time— we had spent a while working on the GUI and design/function of the game. It is, after all, set to have some pretty hefty features.
Translation and dub settings
Censorship and Softcore modes
A VERY LARGE story map with several endings
An additional “one-shot” story mode wherein every ending you unlock, you then unlock additional content
That takes a lot more planning than we’d anticipated.
How do we make this efficiently run on most systems?
Are we able to make sure that the size of this game is compatible with older devices?
Are the assets optimized? ( A lot of time has gone into re-drawing and working out sprite systems )
What settings are accessibility necessary for impaired players? How do we implement those options?
How do we design a stylish and efficient system?
That was something we had figured originally would be pretty easy to work out! But multiple people here are wearing multiple hats.
The rest of the team is actively working on those portions. But at the moment— we’ve decided to shelve literal art development and scripting (which was where we were hovering for a while) until we got the programming bits truly sorted out.
That leaves little old me! While they worked on this, I’ve been spending time making sure we could serve you a sample of what’s to come. My job is doling out a taste of the narrative, style, etc.. That way, once they’re finished, we can consider any feedback in the implementation of these portions of the game in the final, official build.
Hopefully that makes sense! TL;DR - Everyone’s busy making the important program my bits and designing the menus. So I’ve stepped away to work on this so you all have something to see in the meantime!
Q: Why are you REBUILDING THE DEMO?
A: The old demo— you’d think it would be easy to patch up. But it’s literally the very first build, sized up and fixed and stitched over. Unfortunately it was an unoptimized mess, even for what it was.
Hopefully a cleaner, more organized build will allow for better gameplay. But the key factor is just a desire for better quality!
Q: How often will you be uploading new additions?
A: Until all the bugs are fixed and the whole demo is rebuilt. This should be every week or so until then. Once it’s all done, the demo will see a re-release publicly!
In the meantime, please keep in mind bugs may be aplenty— and I personally apologize for this. Demos released are intended to show proof of work— but they may not be the best, most fun experience for narrative-seeking players. It’s advised immersion-prioritizing players wait until the build is fully finished and christened on our steam page!
Q: Will there be Mac support?
A: I will absolutely try!
Hopefully that helps give a bit more insight. Unfortunately it’s difficult to articulate everything that’s going on, but we’ll do our best! We’d like to have someone more verbally gifted helping us to write these posts, but until we decide how to go about that, you’re stuck with me.
We’ll do the best we can to answer any questions as clearly as possible. And again— we thank you all for your patience.
Making SDJ was clearly a messier experience than we had considered. It’s been a rollercoaster— and as Sauce speaking, I can actually attribute most of the delays to my own personal health and absence.
That— I am sorry for.
The rest of the team is working very hard to put something together that’s quality. I can promise with my whole heart that they’re doing their best. We’re all just people passionate about this project, and no matter the weather I don’t think it’s ever not on our minds.
I look forwards to putting out a large Kickstarter update soon, detailing our work and more! And I’m excited to open the airways for more and more communication.
But for now— we’ll see you next bug-fixing update.
- Sauce
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aanoia · 10 months
Text
Dying
Poly!marauders x reader, James Potter x reader, Remus Lupin x reader, Sirius Black x reader
Summary; the marauders had known their girlfriend smoked to dissipate the pain from her abusive family. They just didn't know how bad it could, and would get
Words; 1,400+
Warnings; serious TW, mentions of abuse, toxic asf family, drug abuse, weed, alcohol, whiskey, underage drinking and smoking, substance abuse, self harm, cuts, abuse (ish?), depression (not mentioned but apparent), seriously bad mental health
If you are easily triggered I advise you do not read this as it covers very serious topics.
I will be making a part 2 with a happy ending, because they exist and you deserve one, no matter how deep you've dug yourself into a hole.
Pt. 2
If you are struggling with mental health issues and need help call or text 988 to get in touch with the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline. If you are struggling with substance abuse and or mental health and need help call 1-800-662-4357 to get on the phone with an employee of SAMHSA (Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration. If you are being abused or neglecting by family members or someone else and need help call 800-799-7233 to get on the phone with some from the National Domestic Violence Hotline.
If you need help please reach out. Whether it be to one of the resources above, a trusted adult or friend, or me. I cannot speak for others around you but I can for me and I am here for every single one of you. You can talk to me no matter how small, large, serious, "dumb" ("" bc no problem is actually dumb), no matter what. I will sit and listen to you for hours. Almost everything mentioned in this story are things I have experienced. Abuse. Self harm. Substance abuse (smoking and drinking). And pushing away the people who want to help. I understand and will listen. You matter, and you are loved. It will get better, I promise. You can take my word for it. I love all of you, no matter who you are, and I beg you to reach out of you need someone to help bare the weight the world has given you. I'm here for you, and I'm proud of you for being here today, no matter how hard to was.
You are not alone.
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When James, Sirius, and Remus first found out their girlfriend was a borderline stoner, they seemed fine with it for the most part. James was indifferent, believing she wasn’t consuming a dangerous amount. Sirius was impressed and baffled, he spent weeks trying to figure out how she snuck the drug into Hogwarts, which had a strict policy against the use of substances. Every once in a while Sirius even joined Y/n in a smoking session. Remus, however, seemed to be the only one who was slightly worried, he knew all about unhealthy coping mechanisms and how addictive they are, but he chose to trust his girlfriend and left it alone, something he felt very guilty about later on.
Everything changed after the summer before sixth year. The four had kept in frequent touch, mourning over the fact that they couldn’t find a time to get together. Mid August Y/n had stopped responding to letters sent by her boyfriends, which worried them immensely. And when she arrived at platform 9 ¾, looking sickly pale and high out of her mind, they knew something was wrong. 
Stubborn as usual, Y/n proclaimed she was fine. Having lied and said that this was her first time doing any illegal substances, which includes alcohol and other drugs, in weeks, and she was just enjoying it. Each of the boys had a pit in their stomach, their girlfriends usually cheerful aura completely gone, seeming to have faded over the summer.
Sirius was the first to notice the problem with your smoking. He took into account the changes in your stash when he would join you every once in a while, the amount you had from one session into another completely decimating your lie about only smoking once or twice a week. 
Remus was the one who noticed your drinking problem. He had invited you on a study date with just him, James and Sirius being busy with quidditch practice, and you had showed up late. He didn’t mind, knowing you weren’t the most punctual person, but what he did mind was the strong scent of alcohol you had attempted to cover up with a spell. It hadn’t worked.
Now, poor oblivious James was the one to uncover the self harm scars on his beautiful girlfriend's body. It had been a rare time where you had decided to hang out with the boy, as you had been pulling away from the three at an alarming rate. So, James decided to make the most of it, not knowing the next time this would happen. His way of making the most of it was laying down in bed, bodies pressed up against each other and your chest steadily rose and fell. He had fallen into a light sleep before he was woken up as you adjusted your position, throwing your arm out to the side. He looked at you with a tired smile, grateful for this moment as his gaze traveled up your arm. His smile fell as his heart dropped. When you had stretched your arm out the sleeves of your jumper had ridden up your wrist, revealing the angry red cuts protruding from your skin. James felt tears prick his eyes, not knowing what to do.
Today was a particularly rough day for Y/n. She had received a letter from her parents, informing her that they wish she was never their daughter, and that she would find some creative way to die to rid them of their burden of a disgraceful daughter. It was no exaggeration to say she was out of it. Anyone with any common sense could tell as she stumbled through the Great Hall, smelling greatly of whiskey and weed, and anyone with a good nose (Remus, due to his furry problem, and Sirius, due to his furry gift) could sense the metallic smell of blood coating her skin.
“Oh, for Merlin’s sake.” Remus mumbled, standing up from his spot at the table, James and Sirius looking up quizzically. “I’m over this. We need to talk to her. Now.” He said and the boys nodded, standing up with him and walking to the girl. Sirius gently touched her shoulder, leading her out as she made a face of disgust at his closeness, causing his heart to twang. 
She had been so mean lately, and it was slowly shattering the boys’ heart, however, it was affecting Sirius the most. He missed his girl. The one who always cheered him up and provided him bucket loads of support when he was thrown to the curb and disowned.
They carefully led the girl into the boys’ empty dorm, and the three were thankful Peter decided to eat breakfast this morning instead of sleeping in. Y/n sat on the bed, reaching into her cloak and pulling out a shiny silver flask.
Remus scoffed and grabbed the flask from her hands, “Fucking no, Y/n.”
Anger flashed across the girls face, “The fuck is your problem?” She asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
He waved the flask in front of her face angrily, “This shit is! And the weed! And, baby,” His voice softened. “We know you’ve been cutting. Why won’t you let us in?”
She scoffed and stood up, snatching the flask from the boys hand, “Because it’s my fucking mind and you guys have no right to pretend you deserve to know what’s going on in it.” It was Sirius’ turn to scoff and Y/n looked over with raised eyebrows. “What, got a problem, Black?” She asked again.
“Yeah, I’ve got a fucking problem. You’re being a bitch.” He said angrily.
“Excuse you? I’m being a bitch?” She took a step closer. “Says fucking you, Sirius. The only bitch here is you. With your endless manipulation and fucking lies!”
“Okay, you need to calm down.” Remus said before Sirius could speak.
The only sound that could be heard was Y/n’s loud laughter. It lasted a moment before abruptly stopping as she threw the flask down and neared Remus. 
She placed her hands on his chest, smoothing down a wrinkle, “You guys are the ones freaking out when I’m.” She pushed him back, his eyes widened. “Fucking.” Push. “Fine.” His back hit the wall and James, who had been silent the entire time finally stepped in between the two, anger covering his features.
“Back off. We have done nothing but love you! We don’t deserve this shit, Y/n. You don’t have to tell us everything but a simple fucking explanation is due! Even if you won’t give us that you have no right, no right, to lay your hands on us, and I will not put up with this bullshit.” He said and it was silent. The boys held their breaths, hoping James’ speech got through to the Y/n as her and James had a staring contest.
Y/n smirked, “Look at you. The little bitch finally comes out of his shell, and spews utter bullshit.” She said flatly, moving to grab her flask and her bag which she had previously set on the bed. She walked to the door and paused, “We’re over, by the way. I’m leaving your sorry asses.” And she walked out.
The moment the door shut James' body shook with silent sobs and Remus wrapped his arms around the boy, resting his head in between his shoulder blades. Sirius joined the hug, squeezing tightly as a few stray tears of his own left his eyes. 
The three stood there, hugging each other tightly as they cried in each other's arms. They had no choice now but to watch the girl they loved most slowly kill herself, for a reason unknown to them.
Unbeknownst to them, the girl slid down the backside of the door, hand covering her mouth to silence her sobs. She knew it was getting bad and she knew those boys cared about her and wanted to help and she fucking pushed them away, afraid they would turn out to be like her parents. Cruel and abusive. She regretted leaving the moment the door slammed shut, her mind immediately sobering up as she realized what she had done. She just lost the three most important people in her life, people who loved her, if they still could after her cruel words.  In that moment she realized the most terrifying thing. The thing that haunted her nightmares and fueled her addictions. In all her attempts to cut her parents from her life and forget about them. She had become them.
831 notes · View notes
lucivinyl · 2 years
Text
lovesick
pairing : lucifer x gn!reader
summary : you put a bandaid around lucifer’s ring finger (and his heart does a somersault)
note : inspired by the card chat ‘before the big day’
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For a demon like Lucifer, a paper cut should be no more than an itch, something that shouldn’t even warrant a reaction. But when he felt the sharp edge glide across his finger, he still couldn’t help but let out a pained wince.
You poked your head up from behind the leather armchair where you’d been lolling in, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he frowned at the red forming around the thin line. “Actually, can you get me a tissue?”
“Sure,” you grabbed the tissue box and walked over, eyes widening when you spotted the cut. “You’d better get that bandaged.”
“It’s just a small cut.”
“A small cut that will sting like hell when it comes into contact with water,” You leaned against the desk, took his hand and started examining the wound. “And you could get an infection.”
An argument was already building on his tongue, but he decided to stay quiet as you moved on to dab the blood off, eyes narrowed in concentration, making sure you weren’t pressing too hard. A few strands of hair had fallen in front of your face, but your sole attention was on the cut.
It felt nice to be pampered once in a while.
Discarding the red-spotted paper, you placed your hand under the adjacent drawer to open it. Panic set in, and he scrambled to push it back. The wood slammed shut with a loud thud. 
“What?” You turned to him, startled. “I’m just trying to get you a bandaid!”
“I don’t have any in there.” The lie slipped out easily. “It’s really fine, it’ll heal soon.”
You gave the drawer and his guarding hand a pointed look, silent skepticism spreading across your features. Then you shook your head firmly, stubborn as always. “I’ll just go grab mine.”
His eyes followed as you walked out of the study, hand only lowering once you were out of sight. That was a threateningly close call. Had you seen what was inside the drawer, everything he’d been planning would've gone up in flames.
Just to double check. He opened a gap wide enough for him to peek inside. The warm light spilled in, revealing a red velvet box sitting serenely atop other miscellaneous objects. He drummed his finger against the wooden board and, giving in to his uncertainty, pulled out the box. The ring was still inside– the band a pale silver, twirling up to enclose a sapphire that was catching light on all sides. 
He sighed and returned it into the drawer, slamming it into the dark.
He'd bought the ring for a good while now, just about long enough for it to collect dust. While the purchase had been done on a whim, he confessed that the possibility of marriage had been stuck in his head like a rowdy tenant unwilling to move out.
And of course, you were the one who'd given rise to the idea. He could still remember how you'd woken up that day, dazed still by sleep, and upon recognizing him, pulled away and buried your face into the pillow almost in annoyance. He'd been offended, but after some insistent pestering, you finally explained that you'd dreamt of marrying him.
"It was such a sweet dream, and you had to go ahead and ruin it!" You'd complained, looking off to the side with a stubborn frown, but it didn't take a pair of keen eyes to notice the way your ears burned. To make it up to you, he'd vowed to make it a reality one day. It might've been a light-hearted promise at that time, but it would soon bloom into a question that lodged itself into his heart, making it hard to breathe without first getting it out.
He owned exactly three white suits and had to put them all away, because every time he opened the closet and caught sight of them in his periphery, his mind would just go haywire. White suit, wedding, flowers, rings, vows, promise of a lifetime . He would never admit it, but the mere imagination he conjured in his head was enough to make him giddy. He would put an unhealthy amount of sugar in his tea just so the sweetness would taste realer, would run into doors while still donning a tooth-rotting smile.
Simeon was worried that he was sick, but if it really was an illness, he didn't want to get rid of it. Not when you were both the cause and the remedy.
It wasn't always pleasant though. Dreaming was the easy part, but when it came to taking actions, he was in a bind. He wished to make the proposal as memorable as possible, but he had no idea how to. Either he accidentally let the perfect moment pass by or the time and place just didn't work. The world seemed to be against him this time, throwing curveball after curveball on his quest to pop the question. The only thing preventing him from giving up was the unbudging certainty that, yes , he did want to marry you and live out the rest of your lives together. That was enough to keep him going.
At the nearing footsteps, he reluctantly pulled himself out of his thoughts. You came back with a pack of bandaids decorated with pink hearts. 
"What?" You chuckled at the appalment dimming his eyes. 
"Couldn't you have gotten the less cutesy ones?" 
"They were the only ones lying around."
You were obviously lying, but he bit his tongue once again, watching as you peeled the backing. 
"Your hand, please."
He complied. You tilted your head to get a better angle and placed the soft cotton on the cut, the skin surrounding which had started to bloom red. Then his eyes trailed up, and realization dawned on him.
The paper had grazed his ring finger, which shouldn't have been a big deal, but his heart still jumped out of his throat. Suddenly he was hyper aware of your hand working around the wound, wrapping the sticky surface around the base of his finger. You didn't do it very well, but he couldn't bring himself to care as he watched the hearts adhere to his skin.
One day, it would be just like this, except he would be the one holding your hand like it was glass, and instead of a band aid, it would be a ring. He could already see it happening before his eyes– your finger slipping into the ring of perfect size, the happiness blooming on your face, then your hands fitting perfectly together.
It was only when he felt your touch on his face that he snapped out of the images, feeling the smile etched on his face. Softly you asked, "What are you thinking about?"
"How dumb this bandaid looks."
"That’s not what your face says," you mirrored his smile. "At least wait a few days before you peel it off, okay?"
Instead of answering, he turned to kiss the center of your palm, his smile growing wider. He knew that he wasn't taking it off any time soon.
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ogh-rambles · 1 year
Text
Rewriting Fate - Chapter 1
prologue > chapter 1 (you're here!) > chapter 2 (in progress...)
word-count! 1.1k
warnings! none unless u count heart-wrenching angst as one
tag-list! @shizunxie , @sam-screams , @swivy123 , @thenyxsky
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“... Who’s there?”
His raspy voice echoes around the room and you wince, head against the wall barely hidden underneath the window.
(You wonder how long he had been weeping before you found him.)
Only just a few seconds ago did you duck down after you made direct eye contact with the one… character? Person? Person, you dedicated hours to.
Leveling him up, ascending him, pulling for his damned weapon (even after losing it to Itto’s claymore), maxing out said weapon… You practically gave him the luxury Genshin treatment. Your face falls knowing how much real-world money you had to spend for this man.
Heartbeats thud deafeningly in your ears as you hear a shuffling of fabric and then an abrupt thud. Shoulders jerking, your poor heart leaps to your throat at the sound.
Hearing nothing but stillness and the sound of your unsteady breaths for the next few moments, you begin to grow worried. What if he fell over? Hurt himself? You remembered that since he's only just been 'let free to roam' by his creator — that was but a small while past his initial creation.
At this thought, you find yourself making your way into the darkened hallway.
Sure enough, he still lay there, albeit in a more crumpled manner than you last saw him in. Dark hair splayed out around his head, his veil discarded beside him. Alarmed, you rush towards him, kneeling at his side as you hover over his form.
A hand grasps blindly at your clothes, almost going limp as the prototype lifts his head. You freeze.
"...Why are you here?" He finally speaks, voice almost a whisper. You lean in a bit closer to hear what he's saying.
You let the silence linger for yet a second before responding, just as faint as he did. "Well, I heard someone crying and I..."
Your voice trails off. What did you even think to achieve, in following his cries, walking into this domain?
"I wanted to help...?" It comes out more like a question rather than an answer because, to be frank, even you didn't know why.
You hope that he doesn't ask you to elaborate because you don't believe you could give him a proper answer.
His eyes meet yours again, miserable and muddled. A look, much too innocent for who he will become... and what he would begin to execute thereafter.
Unsettled by your thoughts, you fidget under his gaze.
"Why do you wish to help... me? I don't even know who you are."
Your heart sinks at his question. What were you meant to say? 
‘Oh, it's nothing! It’s only because I know your entire backstory, and character and have read through your wiki an unhealthy amount of times.’
You'd rather eat your foot.
Reluctant to scare the traumatised doll once more, you attempt to smile at him and gently took the hand that is so tightly gripped at your sleeve.
"You don't have to know someone to want to help them." You hum, making yourself comfortable in front of him. "Plus... Who says we can't get to know each other now?"
Looking down at him with kind eyes (you hope it comes off that way), you tilt your head. "What's your name?"
(Kunikuzushi? Scaramouche? Wanderer?) He pauses, his eyes wavering and breaking away from yours. 
"I do not have one." His voice breaks, along with your heart.
You have to restrain yourself from spilling what his mother had wanted for him, that she never left him with the intent of abandoning him, never wished upon him the life he was destined to experience.
(Fate can be cruel but Gods can be even crueler, you felt.)
"That's okay. I don't need to know names to get to know you." You hum, gently squeezing his hand. "Is it alright if I ask you what happened?"
The forlorn expression quickly morphs into a face of heartache. The hand that barely clutched back in your hand tightened ever so desperately around your own, and you narrowly hold back a wince at the suddenness.
"My creator... My mother left me without saying a word." He croaked. "She didn't stop to look back at me once."
You sadly watch as he fruitlessly attempts to hold down his tears. Tears that had led a god to deem him too vulnerable, too fragile to uphold such a title as 'The Raiden Shogun's Puppet.'
You reach over, putting your unoccupied hand on his shoulder. Feeling it shudder and quiver with every concealed cry, you see his watering eyes flick over to you.
"It's okay to cry once in a while." You say. "It's only human."
He furrows his brows.
"But," He spoke in hushed tones. "I am not human and... I do not own a heart like you."
(Oh, you knew. But at this moment-- you think he feels more human than anybody else.)
"Well I think... you seem to be very human. Maybe even more human than me." 
(The dam floods and shatters, taking him along with it but he holds onto you for dear life and... and you let him. Your warmth is a sharp contrast against his cool hands and face-- though it is ever so comforting as you wrap your arms so tenderly around him.)
(He feels safe.)
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You decide to give him a name. In your head, of course, you didn't wish to give him a name that he did not choose.
You call him Kuni. For now.
Speaking of which, he had stopped sniffling quite some time ago and was now sitting up-- studying you with blatant curiosity. You sweatdrop under his fixed gaze but you're glad he looks much calmer than when you first found him.
"You never told me your name." He suddenly speaks, making you jolt a bit.
"Ah... Did I not?"
You tell him your name, with slight hesitation. 
You know you probably shouldn't interfere with his past, despite how badly you long to push him on a path to a better... happier, content life. You also know that it most definitely would change, a lot. Of things in the future.
You didn't want to risk that.
He echoed your name, looking more content as time passed. 
"Now, we know each other!" You beam, pleased now that Kuni was feeling better.
He timidly smiles back at you. (It's one so small and gentle, so out of character for his present self as ‘Scaramouche’, 'The Balladeer, the 6th of the Fatui Harbingers' and 'The Wanderer' -- you could die happy knowing that you made him smile.) 
"Yes, we do."
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