Tumgik
#interact with me at all. even a stupid like. it never happens. and it just feels worse and worse to watch everyone else receive love. i just
posionhaze · 3 days
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dollhouse
❥ summary: having to work with an old flame doesn’t exactly go to plan
pairing: finnick odair x fem! victor reader
warnings: brief mentions of prostitution | dark themes | slight toxic-obsessive behavior | some fluff!!
genre: I don’t even know
❥ words: 2k
please read at the end of the fic for more information 🫶
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It hadn’t always been so tense between you and Finnick.
You were friends before his games- and before yours. You would have been the youngest victor, just a year younger than him- but of course he got to it first.
After he came back he was different, you expected that- but he had put up a front.
He had never told you what actually happened. What happened with Snow. You found out later- you witnessed it.
With that being said, you were reaped. Mags and Finnick himself mentored you.
Finnick never told you but he wished that you would’ve died in that arena. He knew your fate would be the same as his. Even at the age of 15 during your games, he knew.
He knew how sick Snow was.
You had made it out, purely based on hiding and stealth. You did it.
It took days, 28 to be exact.
They both thought you would’ve died off either by starvation or hypothermia.
You didn’t- you almost did.
You could recall the snow surrounding you, really almost choking you.
The arena was an iceland- cold and white, nothing to it.
You remember after your victory tour Snow wanted to meet with you.
You wished you had died in that arena.
Finnick remembers when you came back to the victors village- you hadn’t spoken to him or even looked at him.
That day you were never the same- like someone took your soul, and in a sense- Snow did. He did much more than that.
Three years passed, you and Finnick had brief interactions when needed.
He was the Capitols Darling and you the Capitols Doll.
Your eyes widened- why was Finnick here?
You were at a Capitol clients party as his side piece for the night- rather his doll. He was actually a regular, he wasn’t that bad considering the extent of the situation.
You didn’t understand why Finnick was there, he could only have been invited by your client…
“Oh! And I’m sure you know Y/n!” Your client says with a wide smile, arm wrapped around your waist.
You were wearing an extremely uncomfortable dress, not that it was bulky or unnecessary- no it was quite the opposite.
Thin and revealing, a baby pink mixed with seafoam green, clients request.
Finnick had a lady at his side, wearing an equally revealing and stupid outfit.
“Of course..she’s a doll..” Finnick replies with his charming grin- you knew it was simply an act. He reaches for your hand, pressing a kiss to it.
You saw the flash of realization in his eyes- you both had the same fate, the one he tried to hide you from.
You give him a sweet smile, letting out a giggle at his words, “You flatter me Finnick!”. Those words never felt more sour coming out of your mouth.
After that night you both grew close again.
You were often in his arms at night, both wanting a sense of normalcy, just for a few hours.
And for a bit it did feel normal, and at some point it felt real.
It was real, you both loved each other. You couldn’t pinpoint when it had happened but you guys ended up in something more than a friendship but never said it out loud.
Now of course you couldn’t tell anyone- not even Mags.
But somehow Snow found out, you weren’t sure how but he did.
Two years of peace disturbed.
Now you figured Snow had only talked to you- only threatened you.
He would’ve killed Finnick if you didn’t comply.
You begged him not to hurt Finnick. For Finnick you sacrificed what was left of you.
When you had gotten back to victor's village, you had ended it with Finnick. That day you broke his heart. Yours was already broken by Snow- much of you was.
You and Finnick stopped talking. Well you did, he didn’t stop.
He was insufferable, petty, pathetic but most of all someone you still loved.
That’s what you hated. That you couldn’t move on.
So it was a year of no contact for you, not playing into whatever game he was playing.
Not until the 73rd hunger games. Yourself 21, Finnick 22.
You both were chosen to mentor district 4. You didn’t know why- well you had a guess.
You and Finnick had two great tributes, a boy named Bay and a girl named Alana.
Bay was shy, a soft spoken teenager who just wanted to go home- while Alana knew what she was up against, she was more insightful- observant.
Alana and Bay knew each other, not very well but close enough to not hate each other.
“Y’know..you can’t spend all this time ignoring me, doll” Finnick says, looking at you from across the table.
It was the second day at the penthouse, you hadn’t spoken to Finnick since the reaping or during the train ride, you didn’t bother.
“Yes I can” You state simply, briefly glancing up at his beautiful sea green eyes. But you quickly avert your eyes, suddenly taking an interest in the glass of scotch you had been “nursing”.
“Really now?” He says with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, “And do you think that’s how an actual conversation works?” His voice is still playful, but he can’t help his curiosity.
Why were you ignoring his presence, why was it so easy for you to do after everything?
You wish you could tell him, let him in again, but you couldn’t. It would have pushed you over the edge, the one you were so close to falling off of.
It was painful having to keep up your capitol act, but you had to. Over and over again, night after night, party after party.
It was that- or have Finnick killed.
“Yeah- I do” You say with a tight lipped smile, focusing on the ice slowly melting in the liquor you barely touched.
“Y/n, you can at least attempt to hide the disdain, the fake smile, and the eyes that are screaming to run straight for the hills.”
Finnick can’t help but notice how you seem to act as if you never loved him, never cared. In that moment his face softens, a rare sight.
“Oh and, let’s not forget the drinks you hardly drink!” He teases a bit, leaning back in his seat. There was the Finnick you knew- the one who would pick and prod until nothing was left.
“You are such a pain” You say with a roll of your eyes, fighting back the urge to punch him in the face- really you would never do that, but it would feel nice to, at least in this moment.
“Yeah well it’s my speciality!” He smiles, leaning over the table as he takes the glass out of your hand- he finishes what is left in one gulp, putting the glass down before leaning back in the chair.
He’s still looking at you, clearly amused by how you act- you can’t help but wonder if it all is an act.
“Will you stop staring?” You grumble out, irritation clear on your face and tone.
“Only when you look at me.” He replies, leaning on his elbows, propping his chin up on fist.
He’s staring you down, he wants that reaction. It’ll tell him everything he needs to know.
And eventually you look at him, your eyes look dull and tired. Your mouth is a straight line.
You notice how his smile has disappeared- he studies you closely, like you did all those years ago- wondering what’s actually behind your eyes.
For the first time in a while you take in his features, his golden-bronze hair, and those sea green eyes.
Oh how you love those eyes.
You let out an awkward cough, breaking eye contact after a moment, “Bay and Alana seem good..I think Alana has a good chance of making it out..” You say, trying to distract Finnick.
“You think so?” Finnick says almost in a hum of approval, a smirk etched on his face.
Your distraction was futile, Finnick is stubborn- he’d get the truth out of you tonight.
He nods, “Bay, I can tell he’s a sweetie, a quiet one- but I think he’ll surprise us. Alanna though! Oh I’m putting my money on her- we’ll see her in that arena.” Finnick takes his eyes off of you for a moment, “You should help them with the training more, doll.”
“Stop Finnick- stop whatever it is you’re doing” You say, the tone of his voice- it disgusted you.
That look, his tone, why does he keep using it on you?
“Aw am I hurting your feelings? I’m so very sorry, doll.” There’s that damn smirk again, how did he not see the look on your face.
It was as if he was teasing you, enjoying the slight torture he was bringing on.
“I just want you to tell me those secrets you’ve been hiding..”
Your eyes flick up to meet his, “Drop it Finnick”
“No.” He replies, his voice sharp and stern- he wasn’t going to let you brush him off.
He reaches for your hand, your skin so soft under his fingers, your hand so perfect under his.
He brings it up to his mouth, and kisses one of your knuckles, “Just talk to me…please…”
But you could still feel his smirk.
You’re quick to pull your hand from his grasp, a sick feeling forming in your stomach.
“I’m going to sleep” You mutter out, leaving your seat and the table, going to your room in the penthouse.
“Damn it..” He mumbles, leaning back into his chair.
He couldn’t leave it alone, he just couldn’t.
He wouldn’t let himself rest either, getting up and walking towards your room- he knew you wouldn’t appreciate it.
He stands outside your door for a minute, trying to gather his thoughts.
Before eventually opening the door and inviting himself in.
“Go away Finnick..” You mutter out, not even having to turn and look to see who it is.
“No.” He says in a stern voice, but there’s hesitation in it.
“I’m not leaving until we talk.” His voice softens as he takes a step forward, “Doll, don’t do this…”
“Finnick..” You say, pausing momentarily. Maybe it was time to let him in again?
“I can’t- I can’t do this right now..” You finish.
“Do what, Y/n?” He steps forward again, closing the distance between you and him- his hands rest on the sides of your hips, chest against your back.
You can feel his breath against your neck, your muscles tense up but he just waits for your reply.
“Just talk to me, please. Let me in, doll.”
“Snow had found out about us..” You say blankly, “He talked to me, threatened your life..he didn’t want us together..because we were so- so useful to him..”
“I didn’t want to hurt you, I thought it would be better to just end it” You add on.
Your words didn’t come to a surprise, he knew Snow would find out eventually.
He’s silent for a moment, before his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close against him- he doesn’t care how tired you are.
You could feel the anger and rage building inside of him, towards Snow.
Finnick moves you in his arms, kissing your forehead before looking right in your eyes, “I still don’t understand why you never just talked to me about it…”
“I was scared he’d do something to you Finn..” You mutter out softly.
“I’m not that fragile, doll.” His lips brush against your temple, he can tell that you’re tired.
“I would’ve been fine, you know that right…”
You honestly didn’t know what to say, what could you?
“I’m sorry Finnick- I’m tired..I- I need sleep..” You say, pulling away from him. You wouldn’t let yourself go back, why wouldn’t you?
“This isn’t a good time....” You add on, averting your eyes again from him.
His grip tightens on your hips slightly- he can tell you’re pulling away from him yet again- and it’s driving him mad.
You’re refusing to let him in completely, refusing to let him love you.
“And I’m telling you- we’ll talk about this now.” He’s persistent, unwilling to be denied.
“Finnick..we’ll talk after the games, after this is done” You say, voice soft yet stern.
Your eyes meet his, both of you don’t say anything for a moment.
“Fine”
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❥ notes: hi!! so this is my first fic on this blog- I want to say I’ve written fan fiction before, so I’m not new- but I’m not the greatest either! I’m new to the hg fandom, so bear with me if my work isn’t accurate or the best! I will be making a masterlist of who I will write for soon!!
❥ uploads certainly won’t be frequent or consistent- I’m sorry to say. I do have an old blog, which I won’t be mentioning. that blog negatively impacted my mental health so I wanted a fresh start with a new fandom and blog :))
❥ once again- I am new so sorry if this isn’t accurate or not the best!! I’d love for any comments or suggestions! I was scared to post this, mostly because of backlash but I hope this was good!! ☺️
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blood-grove · 9 hours
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— school fights
— dad!ghoap & reader scenario based off my fics here :3
— tws; ofc fighting mentions, injuries , annoying adult (principal)
a/n; this isnt a chapter to odd adjustments just a scenario so pls dont treat this as a next chapter !
Fuck Fuck Fuckkk.
I was so fucking screwed.
But honestly the kid deserved it.
God my fist hurt so damn bad, I just tried rubbing it despite the fact I'm pretty sure I bruised my knuckles pretty badly.
Managed to sock him in the face though god damn it hurt.
I've never really gotten into fights much barely at all really, and it's been good at this school so far.
All into this one fucking kid decided to start fucking up your day for two weeks straight, You didn't even know what you did to cause this.
You weren't the tallest person either which also didn't help your situation Nearly comically shoved in the locker, Always having to quickly rush to your next class just in case the long open hallway would flood and stop up with foot traffic.
The relentless harassment, and the honestly uncreative insults thrown at you.
You just snapped.
John had packed me lunch usually I didn't ask since honestly I never got used to asking for things I felt everything they've gave me so far was enough, I didn't want to be spoiled even though there was a nagging voice saying I wasn't being spoiled.
This sort of parental affection made me feel spoiled, Made me feel like I almost had too much.
The principals voice brought me out of my thoughts.
"Are you listening?!"
No.
"Yes.."
"I've already called both of your parents both of your behaviors were inexcusable- And you? Biting one of your classmates?!"
I slightly flinched.
Yeah I did bite them.
But that was also deserved, I hated this school's stupid no-tolerance policy, Nearly the whole class was there saw it.
They all saw him dump that milk carton on my head my hair still damp, I tried to just walk away but being shoved onto the ground was my final straw as I punched him, and then we were both on the floor he was bigger than me and obviously, And I wasn't made for fighting he had landed a few more hits on me than I had on him.
So I bit him.
Hard.
Then the teachers finally got in threw the small crowd of students and pulled us apart.
"What are you some kind of dog? Do your parents teach you nothing?"
I just stayed silent gripping my pants leg as avoided eye contact, Why was I getting torn into for self-defense? Her shrill voice was getting on my nerves at this point getting to them bad.
I doubted things would go any better if I completely shut down, But eventually, she let up on me and went over to the teary-eyed boy no doubt from my bite of just to gain sympathy I couldn't care.
I just pulled my legs to my chest as he chewed on my lip focused on the ground.
This discussion was just hell, I wanted to throw up, yell, and vomit all once.
We both were getting suspended for a week, You would be put in sperate classes as if that was going to stop any other interaction from happening.
And you were supposed fucking apologize?.
"What?" I spoke up finally as the principal looked over at me Simon looked over at me as well had luckily arrived before the other kids' parent came which would have basically felt like my doom feeling like they were just going to gang up on me and guilt me till he came.
"You bit another student-"
"He dumped milk on me he's been fucking with me for two weeks!"
"Watch your language-"
"I-" I stopped as Simon slightly glanced over at me and I just gave up at that point as I bit my lip nearly crumbling up the apology paper I was given.
I was sniffling quietly by the time we left the office.
"Wait here." Simon finally said something as he headed back into the office leaving me to sit down on a nearby bench as I sniffled tears streaming down my face.
Simon came back out a few minutes later.
"Where's the paper?" Simon looked over at me as I handed him the paper as he just ripped it up tossing it into the trash.
"Why'd you do that?-"
"Do you want to go get ice cream?"
"..Yeah."
"Ow"
"Sorry.." Simon mumbled as he wrapped up my bruised knuckles and hand, My other holding my ice cream cone.
"Well get it wrapped up in ice at home.." I just nodded as he shifted getting up from his crouched position and picking up his own cup of ice cream.
He sat back down and we sat in silince for a while as we ate out ice cream.
"..Are you upset?"
He glanced over at me.
"Yes."
"I-"
"For not telling us you were being bullied."
"Well..I..I just thought.." I just sighed I went quiet looking away I could hear him shift taking another spoonful of ice cream.
"..If it happens again tell me.." I looked over at him as he shifted.
"You don't have to write that apology letter.."
"W-Well you ripped it up so..Yeah I thought so.."
"I'm going to the gym tomorrow.."
He paused as he shifted as he got up to throw away his ice cream cup.
"I want you too come."
"I-..Why..?"
"So I can teach you how to punch someone properly."
a/n; idk what to put here so this is it lmao
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aynahcr · 2 days
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𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵 ᡣ𐭩.
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Genre: Smut, Kashimo x gn!reader
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Content Warning: handjob, blowjob (m! recieving), face fucking, edging, grumpy!Kashimo, cruel!reader (but not in a bad way), first time writing smut! Sorry for bad grammar :(
¡Minors Do Not Interact!
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You never thought this would happened. Him, whining and grumbling while your hands are rubbing his length so slowly. A frown you see from his face has told you he doesn't like it. He hates being dominated extremely.
It wasn't easy having the God of Lightning in your hands. You took a plenty time thinking and planning how to get him down without being switched or getting fucked by this mad man. He did you good, can't reject it. But sometimes he did make you feel so stupid like you never had a thought at all. So, here's a karma. Having him being tied down like an X on a shared bed with no clothes. Such a cruel you letting the cold air touches his bare skin.
"God, baby..." He lets out a whisper with his eyes keeping on you and your hands, begging you to go faster and stop this painful pleasure. You can't see his face, but you know what he wants you to do just from hearing his voice.
"You must use your words, baby. Whining isn't gonna help." You say the words he usually uses when he teased you. The man then growls hopelessly as you chuckle. Your fingertips tap his tip before your lips were lowered down to give a gentle kiss on it. This makes him flinched slightly. My, he looks so adorable. His face already went red and he sweats all over his naked body like he's oiled up.
"Love... Why did you do this t'me... What did I do t'you?" He asks with a pant, hoping you to answer but he hears nothing. He even tried to move himself just to be failed at it. He doesn't know if he could take this pressure for a little longer.
"It's not funny, love! Tell me why you did this!" Nah, clearly that he couldn't. He begins to shout an order to you. It sounds scary at first before changing to be shaken. His precum's leaking on his tip while your hands still do their pleasure torture job with no stopping.
"Babe!" He calls you, following with your name after. But you remain calmed, not letting his demands win this fight. A sight of this version of you makes him confused. So, so confused. He's never seen this you before and he quite doesn't like it.
Or maybe he does, but just doesn't admit it yet.
As you don't seem to go faster even though how many times he's ordered you. This man finally gives up, lowers his ego down a bit as he begins to please.
"Babe, go faster please. It's closer now, please go faster..." He pleas, it's certainly a plea that he lets out from his lips. You heard it so clear, even your eyes go widened. You've never believed you'd hear this man's plea, but it's happening now.
"I beg you, my love... I'm 'bout to cum, 'bout to cum..." His head goes back to the pillow while his chest raises up and down. You think he meant it, he's really about to cum. You then look up at the ceiling, thinking if you should follow his begging or not. In your heart, you don't like seeing him dissatisfied. It causes a hole in your chest somehow. But the other thought inside your mind is opposite, make him whine and beg for more, it said.
You reply as a hum first, "Hm... alright. but can you wait a lil' longer, lightning? Just two minutes." The corner of your lips were raised up with your eyes shut. A soft smile was sent to him, but he receives it as a cruel grin. This isn't like he's thought. No way.
"Nah nah I can't. Babe, please." He shakes his head two times lazily. "I'll do you good after, so please hear my beg."
"You can't even wait and why should I hear you?" You reply before releasing his cock from your palms as your eyes keep straightening on him. Then you sigh out. "So disappointed. Thought you'll be a good boy for me."
"I'm not a boy!" He immediately protests you with his head leaving the pillow. He's frowning at you, wondered why you stopped, also he doesn't look pleased when you used that word to call him. What an egoistic man he is.
"Then you aren't a man either." You say. "Real man can wait, don't you agree with that? If you can't, you're not a real man."
Hajime Kashimo, your beloved boyfriend is now stopped begging. His brain begins to process about your sentences and his self-esteem starts to get on its work. From your observation, this man believes in a way of the real man they called, like 'Real man shouldn't cry.' or maybe like 'Real man should take a lead.' for an example. So, this trick of yours might be work.
You try to guess a hint on his pouty face. He stills silent as he's fighting with himself inside his head. Just like the first paragraph said. This man hates being dominated, but he also hates to wait as well. But again. If he couldn't wait, he's not a real man like you've said.
When you realise that the room of yours covers with silence for too long, you decide to be the one who breaks this strangely awkward situation.
"I know you can wait, my lightning. Just two minutes and I promise I'll give you a reward." You coo as your hand gently wraps around his length, causing him letting out a short mewling and it blessed your ears so nicely. Your man nods lamely without any dissent, but it isn't enough. You want to hear a word.
"Baby."
"Yeah, I'll wait. I'll wait..." He replies your short call. The corner of your lips then hoist up seeing him in good behaviour. You begin your rhythms with a slow movement of your hand around his long dick. His lower lip slowly separates from his upper lip as a soft moans come out. You barely heard his moans from your experience with him, so your eyes quickly peak up to look at his expression. Oh, lord. His pretty eyes have no focus on you but on the ceiling, wishing you to go faster soon.
"God, Hajime. You're so fucking desperate and I love it." You breathe while you hand's starting to go faster as he wished for. "My lightning just wanna reach the climax so bad."
You could see his body reflecting your hand's movement by jerking. Both of his face and his bare chest are all covered with red like a garnet's colour. He can't shut his mouth now loosing all his moans and whimper out shamelessly.
"Aw, poor Hajime barely get touched and already began to cum." You mock him, but your mock somehow turns him on even more and you knew it. Because it used to happen to you as well when he did the same.
With a need to make him go feral, his cock was suddenly taken inside your warm mouth before you begin accelerating. The brief action of yours did take him to the haven's gate. The man growls as he bucks his hips up and down, fucking your face senseless even though he's underneath you.
"Fuck, baby, fuck, fuck, fuck—!" He curses with pleasure.
"Gonna cum, gonna cum...!" He desperately whimpers out while he's wishing if his hands weren't tied so he could grip your head stills and fuck your face better.
You widen your eyes, feeling unbelievable with his hip's skills. You did tie his hands and legs down but it looks like it has no effect on him at all.
With a final thrust, he explodes his cum all inside your mouth along with his erotic moans and shaking body. This move of him almost had you choke but gladly that you didn't.
You pull him out from your mouth before wiping all messed stuff from your lower face. Then your eyes take a look at your man. He's such a pathetic in the sight, noticing from the way his cyan orbs went back to the skull and his lower lip hanging down. So cute, so adorable.
"That's my man." You praise him as your tongue swirls on his tip, offering to clean him up.
"Baby," Hajime lets out a shaken breath while staring at you like a puppy staring at its owner, waiting for a treat.
"Yes, sweetheart." You say, before you place your quick kiss on his lips. The man's disappointed a bit as he thought you would give him a long deep kiss.
"I've promised you to give you a reward."
Finished your sentence, you begin to think about which rewards you should give him. First option is giving him freedoms, second is riding him dried.
Well, whatever you choose. I think he'll enjoy your choice anyway.
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。𖦹˚.🪼₊ ๋࣭ ⭑
¡English is not my first language!
Art by: @_JulyWj on Twitter!
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tteokdoroki · 6 months
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☆༉ — RYOMEN SUKUNA. a better man.
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about. you’re a girl that’s way out of his league and he’s the bad boy you couldn’t help but fall for. what happens when ryomen sukuna fails to meet you in the middle?
warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, suggestive towards the end, no curses!au, modern!au, it’s implied that sukuna is in a gang, mentions of fights, reader is a rich girl, they’re kinda in love :( bad boy!sukuna, fem!reader.
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“you’re mad at me. aren’cha?”
sukuna mutters with an air of faux nonchalance as he lazily jogs up the final marble steps that lead up to the restaurant he was supposed to meet you at nearly two hours ago. the evening traffic zips by, red and white headlights parting through the rain to illuminate your boyfriend’s features. heavy water droplets take residence on the slope of his nose and Cupid’s bow, some even daring to cling on to the tips of dusty rose-coloured hair.
if you weren’t so angry right now, you might take a moment to appreciate how good sukuna looks in the moment — especially with the way the rain makes the designer tux you’d gotten for him cling to his skin. exposing every ridge and dip and curve in his muscle while his inky black tattoos become all the more visible.
“of course i’m mad.” you step aside to let sukuna under the shelter of the entrance, avoiding him as he swoops down for his usual hug and kiss. “tonight is important. it was important.”
“babe c’mon on, i was—“
“you were late. they’re serving dessert in there, ryomen.” your tone is coloured with shades of annoyance and a hint of warning. like a mother about to lecture her child. you’re pissed. it’s written all over your face too — in the way that your brows crease and you pout so adorably. he’ll try to play it off, like he doesn’t care, but it almost makes sukuna sick to his stomach to know that you’re angry with him.
the rain picks up outside of the restaurant and you continue. “all you had to do was show up on time. come to this stupid fancy restaurant and be there to meet my parents. but of course, you got yourself caught up in—“ you grab his dress shirt in frustration, noticing the blood on the collar that doesn’t belong to him. his split knuckles and the bruise on his lips. “— in whatever this is.” you roll your eyes, blood boiling.
“it’s nothin’ for you to worry your pretty little head about,” sukuna scoffs, lips spreading wide in his signature smirk. the excuse is lame, but he doesn’t want you to worry for him any longer. “since when did you care about what your parents think, anyways?” but you see it in his eyes, that same old worry. that he’s not good enough for you, that a scumbag like him doesn’t deserve a pretty girl like you. he’s always told you to find someone better, someone able to feed into the glitz and glamour that you were brought up in.
but you’ve always told ryomen sukuna that you have everything you need right there with him.
cupping his face, the heat of anger dispels from your body and you exhale deeply though your nose. “i don’t care about what my parents think. if i did, i wouldn’t be dating you.” you cast a thumb over the thick lines of ink decorating his face, accenting sukuna’s high cheekbones and chiselled features while the rest of your fingers sink into his smooth, dark undercut. “but that doesn’t mean i don’t want you to meet them. they’re just as special to me as you are. i want the most important people in my life to know each other.”
your boyfriend’s hands settle on your wrists as he grunts noncommittally, indicating that he’s aware of his wrong doings. if there’s one thing that sukuna hates, it’s upsetting you. he doesn’t care what the world thinks of him, it’s never mattered before. yet, even the slightest look of disappointment from you has the man in shambles. “‘m sorry,” he drawls, his grip on you shifting down to cup your waist — pulling you flush against him. “what can a guy like me do to make it up to you?”
“you can go on in there and charm the hell out of my rich, uptight parents so that we can hurry up and go home,” your voice lowers an octave as you stand on your tip toes for the extra height so that you can nip at the shell of sukuna’s ear. “where you can rip this dress off’a me.”
“such a dirty mouth for such’a prim ‘n proper girl, hm? i should wash it out with soap.” he purrs right back, leaning down to kiss at your neck until you’ve had enough of his frayed pink hair tickling your skin. he damn near melts when your fingers inch up to tug at his roots — earning a deep and thrilling growl from the man. “that was a dirty move. who taught you that?”
“my good for nothing boyfriend, he’s kind of a bad influence.” you tease back, despite having to physically push sukuna away in order to avoid setting off his inner beast before dinner with your parents is done — and instead, take to grabbing his larger hand in yours so you can lead him from the front of house to your family’s reserved table.
and like always, sukuna trails after you like a lost puppy enamoured with the person that found them, have them love and warmth. because, while you didn’t change him, you made him want to be better — to give up the knives in his back and the bullets looking over his head for something better. something softer.
something like you.
ryomen sukuna wanted to become the someone he thought you deserved.
that’s why he put on this stupid suit and tie, why he let you take his hand, why he follows you to the the table that’s sure to seal his fate with you.
behind all that rough exterior, is a man who loves you.
and in front of sukuna, is a girl who loves him and all of his flaws right back.
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
4K notes · View notes
toastsnaffler · 1 year
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god I really am at the end of my tether atm
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1-800-kami · 8 months
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R U MINE? feat. gojo satoru
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gojo satoru has got to be the picture definition of a stereotypical college frat boy. he’s cocky, loaded with his daddy’s money, and dangerously handsome. it seems like common sense to stay away from him since you’ll never get more than a one-night stand out of it. 
that’s why you choose to turn a blind eye once you’ve come to the horrific realization: you’re in love with him. and you’re just itching to ask…
“are you mine tomorrow? or just mine tonight?”
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IMPORTANT: part two is out! read here :)
content: 8k words, afab!reader, angst! fluff! heartbreak! n everything in between! implied smut, rich college frat boy gojo and hellcat driver geto 🤑, emotional rollercoaster, reader has a toxic ex, trust issues (?) gojo is absolutely insufferable, misunderstandings, use of words hoe, slut, etc., mutual pining, some jjk character cameos (wink wink) me writing very unfunny dialogue, no bc wtf is this, cheating implications, emo gojo (the worst warning of them all)
author's note: hello hello! my name is kami, i've been reblogging fics on tumblr for a while now but i've recently figured out how to work this hellsite, so i'm going to start posting fics that i write! thank you to those who enjoyed my nanami drabble <3 kisses 4 u all.
this fic IS split into two parts (update: part two is now out!! linked here 2 read) and there is smut in the second part. so just. prepare yourselves for that ig.
reblog and interact for a kiss ;)
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“so… let me get this straight.”
“go ahead.”
shoko takes a deep breath, and you just somehow know that she’s pinching her nose in exasperation right now. “utahime dragged you out to a party in hopes that you would hit it off with somebody. you wander off on your own and later, she sees you and gojo–THE gojo satoru–giving you his number?!”
“uh, yeah. that’s exactly what happened.”
“do you even understand what you’re getting yourself into?! that man bags hoes like they’re pokemon!” you readjust the phone against your ear and sigh at shoko’s comment. 
“okay, first of all, never say that again. second, i rejected all of his advances. i didn’t even save his number.” you stare at the crinkled-up note in your hands, which proudly displays his number and a slick call me if you change your mind ;). you wonder if you could sell this paper to his fangirls–you’d surely make a little bit of cash out of it. “i’ve seen gojo around. i know that i shouldn’t mess with him. plus, he was drunk as hell at the party; i doubt he even remembers my name. to him, i’m just some chick that he’s frustrated at because she didn’t want to fuck him the second she saw him.”
“do you… do you share any classes with him?”
“i don’t think i do.. just, don’t worry about it, okay? i’ll throw away his number and we can put all of this behind us. here, i’ll do it right now.” you rip up the paper into a few pieces before tossing it in the garbage can. hopefully, you did it loud enough that shoko heard it through the phone. “i get that you’re worried for me. and i appreciate that, but i can handle myself.”
“just… no more mention of gojo anymore, okay? you’re right, y/n. let’s just put this all behind us.” shoko sighs, and you smile at that. problem solved. you threw away his number, and he’s most likely moved on to the next girl by now, so that was that. now, you just have to forget about satoru gojo.
all to never let yourself get hurt ever again.
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it’s hard to forget about gojo.
not because of those dangerous blue eyes of his–getting anyone lost in them if they stare for too long. not because of his stupid silvery white hair, which makes him look like a mop, and sometimes like a paintbrush. not that stupid cocky grin of his, either…
...but because you’ve recently found out that he sits next to you for physics.
the revelation was truly disheartening. you thought you could avoid him for the rest of the year because as far as you knew, you shared no classes with him. however, you completely forgot about the fact that gojo never attends class in the first place, and you don’t even know what classes he’s in… because he’s never there. so finding out that the seat next to you in physics wasn’t just an empty seat, and it was gojo’s assigned one, was truly an experience.
“gojo.” the name alone makes your heart stop, and you drop your pen to look at the man your teacher was addressing. “finally choosing to attend class for once?”
speak of the devil.
there he was, in all his glory–the man you’d never thought you had to deal with ever again. the man who tried to butter you up with his corny sweet talk so that you would go home with him for the night. the man who persisted with talking to you, even though you were barely interested. the man, who, at the end of the night, insisted on writing down his number for you in case you changed your mind about him and gave him a chance.
you wanted to shrink into your seat and never resurface. 
“good morning, yaga!” he says rather loudly, with no regard to honorifics at all. a few giggles could be heard across the classroom–though geto suguru’s voice was prominent–satoru’s equally as infamous bestfriend. “and yeah! it’s surprising, isn’t it?”
what’s also surprising is how gojo took a seat next to you. you thought that there was a mistake, that your teacher would scold him for sitting somewhere he isn’t supposed to sit and relocate him elsewhere. however, yaga just grumbles and begins the lesson, leaving you helpless and unable to look at the man next to you.
you swear he’s burning holes at the back of your head.
pleasdon’tremembermeisweartogodpleasedon’trememberme-
“you’re that girl from the party, right?” he whispers, and you’ve never wanted to disappear so badly in your life. you slowly nod your head, turning to look at him, and he pouts. “y/n l/n. you never saved my number. hmph, i was looking forward to a text from you, too.”
“i’m surprised you even remember me, 'cause you were fucking wasted that night.” you twiddle your pencil, averting your gaze from the man. “and i never saved your number cause i threw the paper in the trash. it’s probably at a landfill somewhere, y’know.”
your words catch him off guard, and you laugh at how surprised satoru looks. it seems that’s definitely not an emotion he shows often. despite his initial reaction, satoru swears he could feel butterflies with the way your laugh sounds.
“not a common problem for a womanizer, huh?”
“what did you just call me?!-”
“y/n and gojo, do either of you have something to share with the class?” a dark blush of embarrassment covers your face, and somewhere in the back, you could hear geto snickering. gojo just smirks at yaga, seeming completely uanffected. “then i’d suggest you stay quiet the rest of this lesson. don’t make me separate you two.”
“i’d prefer that, actually…” gojo huffs at your comment, thinking of this as a lost opportunity if the two of you get separated. he does a once over at your appearance. you’re cute, but definitely not the party kind. you’re playing hard to get, and gojo finds it adorable–not a lot of girls go that way with him. however, gojo thinks you’re not just like any girl. there’s something different about you that intrigues him.
“did no one ever tell you that it’s rude to stare?”
“how could i not? you’re so cute.” 
“i thought you already learned from the party, gojo. i’m not interested in you.” 
the light blush coating your cheeks says otherwise. he smiles cheekily at the way you tried to hide your reaction to his words. you’re an enigma to gojo… and he’s drawn to you like a moth to a flame. he thinks he’s made his decision.
he’s gonna do whatever’s possible to get your number.
when the bell rings 30 minutes later, you shove your notebook into your bag, eager to finally leave the class that you had with that stupid paintbrush. that is, until he stops you with a question. “what class do you have next?”
he’s relentless. “why do you care?”
“i want to walk you to your next class,” he says, and smirks before saying his next words. “it doesn’t really matter if you tell me or not. i’ll just follow you anyways.”
you sigh, absolutely exasperated with him. he’s like a fly who keeps invading your personal space—always coming back no matter how many times you swat it away. he’s right, though. damn him for being stubborn. “i actually have this period free.”
“oh, sweet!” he chirps, walking with you out the door, making sure to greet geto before he leaves the classroom. “let’s go to the courtyard. i’ll buy you a drink from the vending machine-“
“i was gonna do that regardless if you were here or not.” you give him a look, and you can’t help but tug on your sleeves when you see people whisper to each other as you walk the halls with gojo. of course you’ve heard the rumors. the man next to you is the most popular guy on campus. girls glare daggers at you and the guys call his name, although he barely even acknowledges them. 
some common things that you’ve heard about gojo around the school are: “i heard he only talks to girls for sex,” “apparently his best friend geto is just as much of a player!” “i mean, who wouldn’t fuck a guy like gojo, though? he’s hot and loaded.” “that’s how he reels you in, though. he gets his hand in your pants and never calls you back again.” you know you should stay away from him, it’s common sense, but it’s hard to stay away from him when he’s the one who glues himself to your side. 
“well, now you’ll get a free drink and we’ll get to know each other! isn’t that great?” he smiles and you just grimace at his words. 
“i don’t need your money…”
“don’t care! can’t hear you!” he says, and you’ve seriously considered just making a run for it. at least you’ll lose him, and you’d finally be able to find peace for a bit. although, it would cause a scene, and gojo would probably end up finding you again somehow. 
“what can i do to get you to leave me alone?”
that piques his interest, even though he looks slightly hurt by your question. he thinks for a bit, and smirks. “i really do want to buy you something from the vending machine.. and i want you to spend your free period with me. i’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day if you do.”
“do you promise? like, actually?”
“mhm! pinky promise!” you feel like you’re talking to a prepubescent boy.
“then sure-“ you’re about to agree, but he cuts you off with one more condition.
“i also want your number.”
you feel like you’ve been cursed by a god, because having the most popular guy on campus be interested in you has got to be the most chaotic thing to ever happen in your life.
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“what do you have me saved as?” 
the question comes from out of the blue, and you look up from the book you were completely absorbed in. you and satoru were at the school library, on a “study date” as he calls it, although it was more so just gojo inviting himself to wherever place you go, as per usual. this time, you have an exam to study for, and you explicitly told him not to bother you unless absolutely necessary.
you do have to say, though, he’s not annoying as you thought he was. he just nagged you way more the first day he sat next to you in physics so he could get your number. it’s been a few days since then, but still, you’d definitely be more efficient in your studies if you didn’t have him attached to your hip all the time.
“satoru, i told you not to bother me-“
“unless absolutely necessary. yeah, i heard you, and this question needs an absolutely necessary answer! contact names really say a lot about our relationship, y’know.”
“relationship? nobody ever said we were even friends-“
“don’t break my heart like that, babe. plus, you don’t call me gojo anymore! it’s satoru to you now,” his heart warms at that realization, and you scoff, especially at the pet name. “we are friends, unless you’d like to be something more...”
“if you say anything else i’m calling you by your government name. gojo satoru.” he looks especially wounded by that.
“ah! don’t do that, please. it feels like we’re a married couple and you’re really mad at me.” he cries and you can’t help but giggle at his words. you decide to entertain him a little bit, fishing through your pocket to find your phone. 
he almost passes out at what he sees on your screen.
“it’s just my number? you didn’t even save my contact?!-“
the shushes from your fellow students and the librarians aren’t even enough to calm gojo’s agony and despair. it also does nothing to stop your laughter, either.
from that day on, gojo’s contact was forcefully changed from his number to “satoru” (he initially added a heart, but you deleted it, much to his disappointment) and one of his many selfies from his stupid instagram account. how the hell can a college student even have thousands of followers?! you think. 
gojo just says that nobody can resist his shirtless post-workout selfies. you’re surprised that you didn’t slap him at his words.
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you push him away.
everytime gojo buys your favorite drink, (it’s always on him, despite your genuine insistence in saying that you could pay for your drink just fine.) everytime he walks you to all of your classes each day, (he memorized your schedule just so he could do this) everytime he buys you your favorite foods on the rare instances that you let him take you out for lunch, (usually, this requires a lot of begging, and you mostly relent during class when you’re just exasperated and wanted to get some notes down.), and everytime he calls you by those stupid pet names of his, you think back to what the entire student body says about him, and you think back to your phone call with shoko, where she warns you to not associate with him so you don’t get hurt by anyone ever again, and you push him away.
you push him away even when you realize that if he just wanted you for sex, he would’ve stopped chasing after you when you didn’t text him after that night at the party.
and that thought alone scares you.
still, you’re not heartless. satoru’s been asking to take you out for a while, and you finally agreed to go today. he’s especially chipper about your agreement right now, walking with a slight pep in his step as he bit around his ice cream cone. 
the park boasts some beautiful scenery today, and little children are out and about. still, you underestimated the weather, and the cold uncomfortably nipped your arms as you internally cursed yourself out for wearing just a shirt. you crossed your arms as a subtle way to shield yourself from the cold.
“don’t play coy with me, y/n. are you cold?” satoru says with a cocky grin, and you huff at his question. surprisingly, he drops the teasing act and unzips his sweater, handing it to you. “here, take it.”
“satoru-“
“i’m not doing this to flirt or whatever you’re thinking right now. you’re shivering, and i’m just concerned for you, so please wear it.” he deadpans, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him be so… upfront? you kind of like it. it’s not him teasing you or him being flirty. it’s just him showing that he genuinely cares for you as a friend. you take the sweater with a nod and put it on, ignoring how your heart is thumping as you take in his signature smell. cedarwood with a little bit of musk. it’s not an overpowering scent, but it still envelopes your senses.
“nevermind. you look so cute with my hoodie on. i feel like we’re in a j-drama right now, y/n!”
you take back everything you just said.
a few minutes later, you two are near the kids playground when you decide to take a break from walking, sitting on a nearby bench with gojo. the chirping of the birds and the wind passing through the trees is quickly overpowered by loud crying. crying from the child right in front of you, in fact.
you’re about to ask him what’s wrong, but satoru beats you to it. he kneels in front of the kid, and coos, “hey, buddy. what’s your name, hm?”
he stops crying for a moment to look at gojo and shakily responds, “gumi-um, megumi fushiguro..” 
“megumi, huh.” he clicks his tongue for a moment. “why are you crying, megumi?”
“i-i don’t know where my dad is!” he cries, and satoru looks to you for help. you just shrug, unsure of what to do with the lost kid, until gojo’s face lights up, assumingly with a great idea.
“he’s most likely just around here somewhere. you can wait with us, and we’ll help you find him! say, do you want an ice cream to help you feel better, megumi?” the boy hesitantly nods, and satoru gives him a thumbs up as he takes him to the nearby ice cream stand. you’re watching this entire scene unfold, absolutely enamored with gojo for the first time. you didn’t think he had a natural talent with kids—but the way he’s making megumi laugh while he happily snacks on his ice cream says otherwise. an outsider could look at you three and assume that you’re just a happy family. 
you try to ignore how that makes you feel.
and as you wave goodbye to megumi once he eventually is reunited with his father again, (an intimidating man who gave you two an appreciative nod as he walked away with his son.) you realize something as you tug on the sleeves of your-satoru’s sweater. 
you’re in love with gojo satoru.
and fuck, that revelation scares you more than anything. the last time you had given your heart to a man, he had crushed it repeatedly until you decided that you would never let yourself be vulnerable like that ever again. 
and now, you're in love with your school’s notorious playboy—and it feels like you’re setting yourself up to be heartbroken again. you want disregard those rumors and shoko’s words so badly, but they still eat at the back of your mind even though the real gojo satoru is right in front of you, and he doesn’t match the characteristics of the gojo satoru in those rumors at all.
you also remember that he has one real best friend, geto suguru. you like to think that this is also what geto sees in gojo. the reason why he’s stuck around.
the reason why you want to stick around too.
you’re so busy in your head that you’ve just noticed gojo frantically waving his hand in your face. “earth to y/n? oh, good! i thought you had, like, a shock reaction from seeing megumi’s father. he looked a little scary, no?” 
“he looks like if a muscle came to life and started talking.” you whisper, and he laughs in agreement. burying your hands into the pockets of his hoodie, you smile. you don’t want to think about your current revelation with gojo right now. instead, you’ll stick with the present. and right now, you like the present.
you just don’t want to think about what this means for your future.
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it’s the weekend, and you’re doing some work at the local cafe, gojo-free for once. only god knows what the man is doing at three pm in the afternoon on a saturday. not like you should be thinking about him right now, though. his presence alone has caused you to be behind on your studies, and you need to make sure you catch up.
you have to admit, you were a little unused to the silence. usually, the silence would be filled with gojo’s endless banter with you, as well as his terrible, corny jokes that are so stupid you can’t help but laugh. his seemingly never-ending presence was annoying at first, but now, you’re starting to yearn for his company.
it further fuels the pit of uncertainty in your stomach, and you hate it.
shaking your head with a sigh, you take another bite of your pastry and continue typing up the report on your laptop. the looming thought of this report’s impact on your grade and the need to pass this class helps you forget about satoru for a while. once again, you get lost in your academics.
the ring of the cafe bell breaks you from your trance. it was a natural impulse of yours to glance at everyone who entered the cafe, but once you did this time, you felt your heart drop down to your knees.
it was your ex. 
your ex boyfriend who destroyed the notion of love for you, because he made you feel it for a short time, only to throw it all into a pit of fire and leave you scrambling to find nothing but ashes. 
if you had to find the true roots as to why you’re so afraid to pursue a new relationship–you always find your ex in the center of it. and now, he’s right in front of you. you have to face him again when you refuse to shamefully admit that you’ve barely even healed from the emotional scars that he’d left behind. 
you feel as if an invisible hand has wrapped itself around your throat, blocking your airways and your ability to speak.
out of all the days satoru wasn’t here with you, it had to be this one.
“y/n? is that you, sweetheart?” you wanted to vomit at the way he said your name. he had no right to say it so sweetly, when all he’s ever left behind is venom. 
“i don’t want to talk to you.” you cringe at the way your voice cracks, and you avert your gaze from him.
“please, just hear me out for a minute, baby..” he coos, and you hate the way he talks to you as if you were a child. “i know i fucked up, and i can’t change our past… but i can change our future together. if you take me back, i’ll show you how much i’ve changed-”
you don’t know how many times you’ve heard that stupid line before.
“god, you sound like a broken record with how many times you’ve pulled that bullshit on me.” you spat, loud enough to draw commotion in the cafe. your ex has surprise written all over his face–most likely due to your non-compliance to his words. “what, do you say that shit to all your hoes?”
your ex looks around, shrinking a little when he sees all eyes are on him. “now, now, y/n, no need to be like that-”
“be like that… be like that?! you’re telling me to be civil when you’re the one coming in here wanting me back, spouting some bullshit saying that you’ve changed, when i told you to leave me alone already!” you scream, and you could feel the tears bubble up in your eyes. you look down, so you aren’t able to see how everyone’s staring at you with pity. god, you hate pity. it makes you feel weak and vulnerable. the two emotions you absolutely loathe. “i just want you to leave me alone, god. i hate you, why won’t you just-”
“you fucking bitch-” he makes a move to lunge at you, and you instinctively take a step back, pure fear enveloping your senses.
you never feel the impact, though, as you see your ex being restrained by the cafe worker.
you remember him. the man who took your order earlier. he was an older man with a warm smile on his face, although you noticed how his cheekbones were slightly sunken, and he looked a little overworked. you jokingly quipped earlier that he should get some sleep before thanking him for making your order. he just replied, i get that quite a lot.
the size difference between your ex and the man is enough to discourage him from fighting back. he makes quick work your ex, dragging him out the door while he hysterically screams profanities to you on the way out. you assumed the worker threatened to call the police, because your ex scrambled up from the ground and ran away. you hoped this was the last time you would ever see him again.
“are you okay, ma’am? he didn’t hurt you, did he?”
you didn’t even realize that the worker was back inside the cafe. everyone was gradually returning to their own businesses, with the eerie silence being replaced by casual chatter once more. you also didn’t realize how much your hands were shaking, and you huff out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “y-yeah, i’m alright, and he didn’t hit me. i just… need a minute,”
you decide that you aren’t gonna get anymore work done like this, so you pack your laptop into your bag and slump onto the seat with a sigh. you bury your face into your hands. “is it a long story?”
“oh, don’t even get me started.”
he laughs at that, and you ease up a little. “i told him i’d call the police if i ever see him around here again.”
“that’s good to hear. though i’d prefer if i never see him in my life ever again.”
he hums at your words, and he turns to look out the window. “it’s getting dark out. do you want me to call you a cab?”
“no need, i’ll call my boyf–my friend. i’ll call my friend. he’ll uh, pick me up.” you’re still so shaken up you barely even register what you said to him. your eyes are frantic as you turn your phone on and look for gojo’s name in your contacts. you don’t know why you want him to pick you up out of everybody. you could ask utahime or shoko right now, but you just wanted nothing more but to see gojo.
the bell rings again, and you flinch at the sound. thankfully, it was just another customer. the worker sighs. “well, these orders aren’t going to be done themselves. just wave me over if there are any other problems, okay?” 
you nod absentmindedly, and he turns to leave, but you stop him. “wait, sir, what’s your name?”
“kento nanami.”
“thank you so much, nanami. i appreciate it.” 
“i’m just doing my job.”
“your job is restraining crazy exes of college girls and kicking them out?”
“‘it comes with the job description.” he teases, and you laugh lightheartedly. “and your name is?”
“y/n l/n.”
“anytime, miss l/n. again, just please… call me over if anything happens.”
“will do…” you say, pressing the “call” button on gojo’s contact. the anxiety is hitting you again, and you take a shaky inhale. you’re surprised at how he picks up almost instantly. “hey… satoru? yeah, can you come pick me up, please? i know i don’t normally ask you to do something like this but-”
“did something happen?”
“a lot happened, actually… i’ll text you the address. please, just come soon.”
“of course, y/n.” you could already hear him running out the door, hearing the roar of his car engine coming to life. “i’ll be there as soon as possible.”
he gets to the cafe in five.
you wave goodbye to nanami, thanking him once more as you get in the passenger seat of gojo’s car. 
it’s not your first time inside here, but you still can’t help but admire how… expensive everything looks. or maybe you’re just looking around because you’re stalling, and you have no idea where to begin with satoru. 
however, you notice that he’s not asking you what happened, and he’s not forcing you to explain anything to him. instead, he switches the gear shift out of parking and says, “do you want me to take you home?”
your eyes widen at his words, and you shake your head no profusely. the last thing you want to be is home alone right now, mainly because your ex knows where you live. you know he most likely won’t go that far with you, especially since nanami knocked some sense into him… but the possibilities still scare you. you take a deep breath before saying your next words.
“...can you take me to your house? i-i’m sorry for asking, i just don’t want to be alone right now cause i’m terrified and-” 
“y-yeah. i’ll take you to my house.” he says, and you’ve never seen him so nervous in your life. it almost makes you laugh.
“i’ll explain everything later. i just… wanna be somewhere safe first.” somewhere safe. you find his house as a safe place. gojo doesn’t know how to react. his heart is thumping wildly out of his chest, but he makes sure to put your own comfort before his feelings.
“you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” he says, maintaining his cool by keeping his eyes on the road, one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear shift.
“but i want to, satoru…” you say. you can’t believe you’re doing this again. you’re crossing so many territories that you were so afraid to cross because of your ex. now, you think you aren’t that afraid anymore. not if you have satoru by your side. 
you place one of your cold hands on the gear stick, interlocking it with his. is he… shaking? “thank you for this.”
still. there are so many things you can’t say to him yet. you don’t know when you’ll be able to… or if you’ll ever be able to.
i love you. i love you but i’m too afraid to say it. i just hope that you’ll be able to wait for me.
“god, you’re killin’ me here, y/n.” 
that pit of uncertainty in your stomach has grown so large you feel it's about to consume you whole. you don’t think you mind much, though.
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the two of you are lounging at his couch after satoru insisted on telling you to make yourself at home. there’s a movie playing, with neither of you paying attention at all, takeout on the coffee table, two glasses and a bottle of wine after gojo didn’t know what drinks to serve, and freaked out by pulling the first expensive drink out from his parents’ alcohol closet. has he never properly invited someone to his home before?
“so in short, you had a crazy ex who saw you at the coffee shop… and he was begging for you to take him back, and when you went off on him he called you a bitch and tried to hit you…” he recalls, a huge grimace on his face. “tch. the cafe worker shouldn’t have let him go like that.”
“i’m sure he learned not to mess with me after getting humiliated in public.. and nanami did more than enough for me.” you retorted, and he gave you a sour look. 
“oh, so you know the worker’s name now?” he says, and you could feel the tension build up in the air. oh. so he wants to do this with you? “what, is he your knight in shining armor?”
“he looks like he’s in his late thirties, satoru. i’m not into older guys,” you roll your eyes at his absurd questions and add, “what’s it to you anyway?”
“what’s it to me, y/n?” he repeats your words, and you could feel an argument coming, like you already didn’t have an exhaustive one with your ex. “you know how i feel about you-“
“what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” your voice is getting louder, all to hide your fear behind the implication of his words. you distance yourself from him on the couch.. much like how you distance yourself from letting satoru get too close to how you truly feel. “we’re not even together, satoru. you don’t get to control the guys that i talk to- hell, have you even seen yourself?”
you’re rambling, and all you want to do is shut up, but you can’t bring yourself to. “i’ve heard what our school says about you. y-you’re a playboy, right? and you only ever talk to girls because you wanna fuck them. i’m not stupid, satoru. i’m not different from any of them, right? you only chase after me because i’m playing hard to get and that pisses you off-“
“what… what are you even saying, y/n?” he asks, and it stops your rambling for a moment. you don’t know what you’re saying. you’re pouring out all the reasons why you’ve tried to push him away, the reasons why you were so afraid to give your heart to him. but now that you say them out loud, they sound outright stupid. 
“i started coming to class just to talk to you, i memorized your schedule just so i can walk you to class every morning. i buy you all your favorite food and drinks… i had to memorize your favorites too, by the way. and i have shit memory.” he’s screaming at this point, and you’ve never had satoru scream at you. there are unshed tears in his eyes, and it’s all overwhelming to watch this unfold. “and when you called me, i drove as fast as i could to you because you never call like that and i was fuckin’ worried!”
“so let me ask you a question, y/n… would i do all these things for you just because i want you in my bed?! i’d do anything for you, and you know that!” he’s crying. the gojo satoru is crying, and it’s all for a girl. if you told this to someone in your school, they’d call you a shit-faced liar. gojo satoru doesn’t cry for a girl. he makes them cry.
“i’m sorry for being skeptical, satoru! i just can’t help it when there’s so many rumors about you wanting to fuck girls just for the shit of it – and i’m conflicted on whether or not i should believe them because i want you so bad and i’m scared you’ll end up just breaking my heart and i don’t want that to happen again-”
he cuts you off. “you… what?”
you’re confused at why he looks so surprised, but then you backtrack on your words and you gasp. fuck. why did i say that? you cover your mouth and look away from him, refusing to meet his eyes.
those stupid blue eyes that you know you can’t get enough of.
“y/n… can you please say that again? i don’t want to do anything if i didn’t hear you right.” his voice is soft now, and you swear that you’re dreaming. this isn’t real. right? i’m gonna wake up soon. you dig your nails into the palms of your hands, leaving half-moon marks in their wake. it doesn’t work, and you don’t wake up, and you know you have to accept the fact that this is very real and it’s happening.
this is the worst leap of faith you think you’ve ever had to take in your life.
“i want you so fucking bad, satoru. and i’m realizing that you’re not just the stereotypical rich playboy that everyone talks about on campus—you’re a really great guy, and i guess i’m just scared to face that-” you don’t even realize that satoru’s got you cornered on the couch, and you can’t finish your words as he slots his lips against yours. hard. it’s the most passionate kiss you think you’ve ever had in your life, and it’s got your breath taken away in seconds. holy shit.
you quietly moan against his lips as you kiss back, cupping his face with your hands and wiping his tears away. you wish this moment would last forever, but you pull away so you can breathe. you meet gojo’s eyes, and they’re clouded with lust and desire, but you could tell he’s still a little uncertain. “we’ll talk later… just take me to the bedroom already,”
gojo doesn’t need another confirmation from you, and he lifts you up to carry you to his bedroom, practically tripping on his feet the way there.
a few hours later and a noise complaint from the neighbors, it’s safe to say that gojo satoru was the best one you’ve ever had.
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“god, i’m never letting you go, baby.”
he’s tracing hearts onto your bare back. it’s littered with bruises and red scratch marks just from a few minutes ago, but you’ve never felt better in your life. you stare at the man who invited himself into your life just from an encounter at a party, and you thank your lucky stars that you agreed to go with utahime that night. “is something wrong? you’re starin’ again.”
“i’m sorry it took me so long to trust you. i’ve just been scared to open up my heart again, especially after him.” you don’t have to name “him” for satoru to understand. 
“i’m sorry too. i just got angry about the rumors and i also disregarded the fact that you’re scared to love again after your ex did all of that shit and-” he pauses, and sighs. “sorry. i’m rambling again.” 
he pulls you into another kiss, and this time, it’s sweeter, lighter, and full of love. “i’m going to show you what it looks like to really be loved, because it’s definitely not the shitty picture that your ex painted in your head. there’s way more to it than that.”
“i love you, y/n.”
“thank you, toru.” you whisper. maybe, one day, you’ll be able to find the courage to say it back. and it’s okay, because gojo is willing to wait an eternity for you. 
he’ll wait an eternity for you to teach you how to love again.
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“look at how beautiful you are…” gojo says, appearing out of nowhere as he wraps an arm around your waist. you yelp, staring at your boyfriend through the mirror. he’s wearing a classic black tuxedo, with no doubt it being very expensive. it compliments the glimmering rolex on his wrist, and the thoughts running through your head about him and his outfit sets fire to your stomach.
“look at yourself first, toru… god, we should just stay home,” you tease, turning around to pull him into a deep kiss. it’s a friday, and gojo’s taking you out to attend geto’s party tonight. the two of you are going for several reasons. he wants to introduce you to his bestfriend, since you realized that you’ve never actually formally met geto before. it’ll also be your first formal “couple appearance”, as if gojo being attached to your side all the time doesn’t say enough about the two of you already. 
gojo pulls away, which surprises you. you pout at the expression on his face. “as much as i want to, suguru’s been bugging about you all week. i really do think it’s time for you to meet him,”
“hmph. alright.” 
“i’m tearing that dress off of you the second we get home, though.”
“satoru!”
“what?! not my fault my girl looks so damn hot all the time!”
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this night is going amazing.
when satoru walks with you through the front doors, arm wrapped around your waist and the dress you picked out for tonight glimmering, you feel a little shy. the guys all whistle at the two of you, and the girls whisper amongst each other, but you and gojo don’t care. in his eyes, you’re the only girl he sees. the only girl worth being with here. 
“wanna go get drinks?” he asks you, cerulean eyes showing underneath his sunglasses. you nod, walking to the kitchen with him. you’re getting severe deja vu… you can’t believe you met gojo at the last party you were at. and now you’re at another party, with gojo as your date. you scan the crowd for utahime or shoko, wondering what you would say to them if they saw you with the man they specifically told you not to mess with.
it’s alright, though. shoko was wrong about those rumors, and gojo’s proving it to you.
“satoru!” the playful voice greets your boyfriend, and you turn to see geto suguru. you’ve seen him around campus, and he sits somewhere in the back of your chem class. you haven’t really had the opportunity to talk to him, though… and he looks a little intimidating.
“you must be y/n,” he says, offering you a freshly opened smirnoff from the drinks on the countertop. you thank him and grab the drink, taking a swig.
“yup! my lovely girlfriend,” gojo lets go of his arm around your waist to grab a drink. 
“you probably don’t know this, but i’ve been his wingman.” he smiles at gojo, who’s pouting, like he’s preparing himself for what suguru is about to say. “he’s batshit crazy for you, its insane.”
“oh? do tell.”
“when the two of you got together, he left me a voicemail at like… four in the morning? anyway, he was screaming about how he was the happiest guy in the world… or something.”
“that’s because i was!” you’re laughing at how unashamed satoru is about this.
“yeah, yeah, whatever.” geto clicks his tongue, pulling out his phone. “and he’s reposted you on insta to like, every drake song-”
“alright, me and y/n are gonna go dance.” he interrupts suguru, and drags you away from his best friend with a yelp. “nice talkin’ to you, suguru!”
“hey, i wanted to know more!-”
“shh, you don’t need to know about all of that.” the two of you are in the living room, in the midst of all the bodies dancing and grinding against each other. he pulls you close to him, and you feel his hot breath against your neck. “you look so beautiful tonight, y/n.”
“same for you, handsome. let’s dance, shall we?” you wrap your arms around him and just sway to the beat. you’ve never been much of a dancer, but everything feels natural as long as gojo’s with you. 
suddenly, the music changes, and one dance starts playing. you two look at each other, and you both burst out laughing at the same time. “have you reposted me to this song?”
“duh. it’s a classic.”
“can’t disagree with that.” you say, finding yourself grinding against satoru while wizkid’s part plays in the background. it feels like such a perfect night–you’re pulling satoru into a deep kiss, and he shoves his tongue down your throat while he’s leading you to a nearby couch. you’re seated on his lap, mimicking practically every couple in this party tonight. 
suddenly, you pull away, and you whisper, “i need to use the bathroom.” 
satoru smirks at your words, thinking that it’s a hint for something else, and you give him a sour face. “want me to join you-”
you hit his chest playfully. “that’s not code for anything, you perv. i actually need to piss.” 
he’s pouting at your words, but he lets you off his lap anyway, and holds your drink for the time being. “it’s at the second door in the hall to your right. be quick, please.”
“no duh. i’ve got a cute date to come back to,” you say, walking away and traversing all of the bodies that smell like sweat and alcohol. you’re a little unused to this environment, but it’s alright. you fix up your makeup in the bathroom and freshen up a little, walking back to the living room to find satoru again. 
you wish you never did.
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you were gone for four minutes. five minutes max. you come back to satoru, and your breath hitches at the sight.
on his lap was a random chick that looked like every other girl at this party. she was practically naked, since her outfit didn’t do much to cover her skin at all.
fuck.
you remember the first time you saw gojo at the last party you went to. the sight wasn’t that different compared to the one now. there were girls all over him, all fighting for his attention. and yet, it seemed that night, his attention was focused solely on you.
what bullshit that was.
your eyes are blurry, and the music is muffled in your ears. white noise fills your senses, and all you want to do right now is run.
so you do.
you run, not caring if gojo saw you at all or not. you run out of the party, eternally grateful that you didn’t pick out heels for tonight and settled for much simpler shoes. you run, despite the fact that you drew geto’s attention. you were already out the door before he could ask what was wrong. you run, just wanting to get away from everyone and everything. you run with no particular destination in mind. you stop running when you almost get run over on a red light, the car honking at you–screaming profanities as it drives by. it breaks you from your trance, and you sit on the curb of the sidewalk, letting all of your tears out on what was supposed to be a perfect night.
of course gojo didn’t think that you were different. you were just like every other girl to him.
stupid. stupid. stupid. you’ve never felt so stupid in your life.
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when geto sees you running out the door with unshed tears in your eyes, he immediately panics. what the hell happened?
he goes through every room of the house, trying to find gojo, when he hears a bunch of commotion in the living room. he runs there, pushing past everyone, only to find a total disaster inside.
he sees gojo screaming at a girl dressed like a stripper, who was on the ground with tears in her eyes. satoru looks like he’s about to pop a blood vessel with how pissed he looks. there’s a crowd forming at this point, and geto knows he needs to intervene, so he drags his bestfriend away, who looks so distraught that geto could just wonder what the fuck happened.
they’re outside now, and its significantly a lot more quiet out here compared to all of the chaos inside. all the noise is coming from gojo—who won’t stop crying, and geto has no idea what to do or where to even begin. “fuck!”
“dude, what the fuck happened!?” satoru looks like he’s feeling every emotion at once. he looks pissed, pissed enough to punch a wall, and geto’s a little afraid that gojo might actually do that–or worst-case scenario, punch him. he’s crying, and geto hasn’t seen gojo cry ever since he fell off a swing in pre-k, so what happened must be really fucking serious.
“i don’t KNOW what happened, goddamnit! y/n went to use the bathroom and some slu- some girl came up to me and threw herself on my fucking lap! i was gonna tell her to fuck off but y/n saw before i was able to and now she’s gone and she probably thinks that i’m just some cheater when i’ve worked so hard to get her to trust me and-FUCK!”
he stops, trying to calm down a little, and gojo takes the shakiest breath he thinks he’s ever taken in his life. the red in his vision starts to fade, but he still feels helpless. “i just don’t know what to fucking do, suguru.” 
“i just saw y/n run out of my house a few minutes ago.” he says with a grimace, and he’s trying to figure out what to tell his bestfriend. “i’ve never seen you like this over a girl before. holy shit, you really love her, do you?”
geto thinks that gojo’s bloodshot eyes, the brutal names that he called that girl at the party, and the tears he’s shed for you are already an answer.
“this is your last chance to prove it to her, satoru.” geto fumbles through his pockets and hands him the keys to his challenger. gojo snatches them, hearing the car engine rumbling itself to life. the white-haired man thanks his best friend as he steps into the drivers’ side, with geto reassuring him, ‘ill deal with the chaos inside, you go ahead and explain yourself to your girlfriend’.
gojo swears that he’s never driven so fast in his whole life.
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part 2 ;)
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satoruluvies · 1 month
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saying somethin' stupid like 'i love you'
fwb!gojo saying the forbidden L word during the deed ????
slightly nsfw, minors please don't interact. also fluff bc i miss gojo :(
not proof read !
thankyou so much for all the support on my recent ♡
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satoru thinks you're so cruel. one minute you're holding onto him, nails digging into his back as if you needed him to live.
chanting his name so so beautifully as he trapped you between his bare body and the bed, relentlessly thrusting into you.
and then the next you were back to acting like even his mere existence irritated you. in a way it does but not in the way he thinks.
not once had you been there the morning after. only the crumpled sheets and your nail marks served as reminders that you were here, with him.
“gojo can you not-”
“that wasn't what you called me last night. what happened to toru?”
you glare daggers at him as one of his hand held your notebook high up. he was ridiculously tall and he liked abusing that privilege. especially against you.
“shut up” you walk past him without bothering to take your book.
“hey you mad baby?” he chuckled, getting in front of you, stopping you again.
“come on, answer me. why'd you leave? i thought we agreed to go to class together hmm?”
you roll your eyes at him and crossed your arms.
“that's what you said. i didn't agree.”
“aw you're too mean” he pouted as you scowl and try passing him again only to be stopped by his hand on your arm.
“i wanted you to stay.” his words were heavy, his face not showing even the slightest bit of his shit eating grin he always has on.
he turns to you, his round sunglasses were low on his nose and you could see his oh so beautiful eyes.
you look away because if you don't, you were pretty sure you'd be hypnotised and you'd do whatever he wanted.
“if you keep doing this i won't stay over anymore.�� your words shot a painful jab at your own abdomen. his grip around you loosened slowly until he lets go completely.
“alright then.” he hands you your notebook, more like placed them into your arms as he walked away, eyes never meeting yours.
the next ‘sleepover’ took place three days after the banter with satoru. he hadn't called or texted the whole time but when you asked if he was up for it, he replied almost immediately.
so here you were again, him ramming into you as you cling onto his bare body for dear life. you could feel your climax coming as your grip grew tighter and tighter.
satoru was the same, chasing his high. he had missed you a lot the past three days but tried distancing himself just so his feelings for you would simmer down.
it only resulted him thinking about you all day and even more during the night. he finds himself wishing you were here with him, either giving you the pleasure you both agreed upon or just you laying down next to him. he didn't care.
he just wanted you to be there. with him.
and now that you are, his heart clenches the way you clench around him as the both of you cummed simultaneously.
he holds your body tight as you both work your way through the orgasm, euphoria rushing through both your veins.
“fuck y/n…” he groaned as he felt your grip loosen. he can't let you go just yet.
“i love you”
he hadn't meant to say it really. not like this at least.
“satoru we've been through this-” you push him weakly but he stays grounded, eyes boring into yours.
“i mean it.” he says, one of his hands found themselves caressing your cheeks as the other supported him while he hovered above you.
“you don't have to say it back or… feel it back…” satoru's voice was full of emotion.
“but just give me a chance to show you how much i love you. then we can work things out from there.”
you find yourself falling into the charms of gojo satoru. it's not everyday he offers his heart to someone. he doesn't offer it at all but now here he is, handing it to you on a silver platter.
“alright”
you could see satoru's face visibly light up and his blue eyes gleammed. he leaned down to place a soft kiss on your lips.
“thankyou” he traced his fingers on your jaw, his touch so soft, so addicting.
“you better treat me like a princess” you chuckle as he physically melted at the sound.
“oh i plan to do exactly that, and more, lovely.” he leaned down to place another kiss on your lips.
1K notes · View notes
cafeesofa · 1 year
Text
i dont want to be depressed on tumblr but like is there a better place
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urdepressedslut · 9 months
Note
Hello lovely,
I saw your post that your requests are open, so I will give it a try =)
Imagine Bucky and reader are best friends but they have a huge argument and now they don't talk to each other for days. She's feeling really bad, missing him. He is her most important person and now without interacting with him for days, she's feeling lost and lonely and heartbroken. Maybe she has not a super power and is only a normal human, helping the Avengers with IT or something. Due to the argument with her best friend and not talking to Bucky (Bucky ignores her completely) she begins to feel it not only mental but also physically. She can't eat probably and at the end falls deathly sick.... With a fluffy happy ending and a worried and protective Bucky
Please. That would be nice.
Take care honey
oh my goodness— my heart 😭❤️ the angst is gonna hurt, but i’m such a sucker for it. i had so much fun writing this one, thank you for requesting and i hope you like it🥰
Love Hurts
♡ Pairing: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
♡ Summary: You and Bucky get into a heated argument, things are said and done and now he won’t speak to you. You don’t think you can handle him ignoring your existence.
♡ Warnings: language, mentions of bucky’s trauma, heavy angst, malnourishment, depression, anxiety/panic attacks, minor injuries, hospitalization, suicidal ideation, self hate, literally hurt just writing this
main masterlist
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | MATURE CONTENT 18+
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Your nails bit into your palm, denting the flesh— threatening to pierce the delicate skin. It was all to hold yourself back, distract you from the words that wanted to burst out.
It was becoming a sickening routine, Bucky was reckless and had yet another near death experience on his recent mission. The anxiety and the nerves stopping your body from functioning— the dreaded wait for his jet to arrive back at the compound. You shouldn’t have to be used of receiving the call that he had yet again made a reckless move— but you were starting to discover a pattern.
It did nothing to ease the panic that swirled in your chest every time he left for missions. You’d sob, throwing up everything you had eaten that day— unable to stomach anything with the idea that Bucky was on a mission. You never found your anxiety to be so severe— but when Bucky was even mentioned about going on a mission… it spiked.
That’s where you found yourself in his room, watching him pace the space— avoiding your frustrated stare. You weren’t angry at him per say— you were angry that he didn’t value his life.
“Seriously (Y/n)— you get so worked up over nothing. I’m here and alive— isn’t that enough?” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration.
You pressed your nails tighter to your palm, yet the pain couldn’t stop your thundering thoughts.
“You’re here and alive now, until you do some stupid shit like this again and are dead!” You hissed, trying to keep your voice low but you didn’t know how much longer you could control yourself.
He glared at you, squinting his eyes in anger and then rolling his eyes.
“Oh for fucks sake— can you stop fucking babying me? I can handle myself!” He raised his voice, his metal arm whirring.
“I’m not babying you— I’m just scared you’re gonna get yourself killed. Do you care about your life at all?” You asked him aggressively, your voice raising just a tad.
He took a long pause, staring at you with his face void of emotion— only annoyance.
“Not really.” He admitted.
You were taken back, although you had these conversations with him a time or twenty. It was an ongoing process to get him to slowly love himself— his past as The Winter Soldier torturing his soul. He was so convinced he wasn’t deserving of anything, not even a roof over his head. It was a struggle to help him, but you weren’t going to give up on him.
“You realize if anything ever happened to you I—” Your voice broke, needing a breath, “Buck I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”
You thought you saw his eyes flash with guilt, but before you could linger on the look for too long— his face was hardening again.
“That doesn’t sound like my problem.” He mumbled out, making your eyes widen.
You were extremely taken back from those words, your chest aching painfully— him not knowing what effect those words had on you.
“Are you fucking serious?” You asked him, your face morphing into a hurt expression, mixed with anger. “Can you just do your job without trying to kill yourself?”
His face grew red with rage and he was stomping up towards you— his face inches from yours.
“I am doing my job— very well in fact. Unlike you who just fucking sits here doing nothing!” He defended himself, his breath hitting your face in warm pants.
“Doing nothing? Buck— why are you like this?” You puffed your chest, not backing down from his towering form.
But your words seemed to have hit a nerve, as he shrunk back slightly, narrowing his gaze at you.
“Like what?”
You furrowed your brows, slowing your racing heart from the shouting— you weren’t sure you had said anything bad. Did you?
“What?” You squeaked out, nervous now.
“You said, why am I like this… like what?” He pushed, stepping closer to you now, his face still red with anger but you could see the hurt in his eyes.
You swallowed and wondered how to convince him you didn’t mean anything bad by what you said. But you were almost positive it would be an impossible task to get Bucky to listen.
“Buck, I didn’t mean anythin—”
“What— you think I’m not capable of doing my job? You think I’m still the monster hydra made me?” He spat, his chest rising and falling quicker.
“No, no Buck listen—”
That was definitely not what you meant, you could tell he was spiraling and you were still confused as to why. You would never make him think that.
“After 70 fucking years I finally have a job that I like— that I enjoy doing— I fucking help people! I’m finally doing some good and now you’re telling me I’m not capable of doing it?” He boomed, his chest puffing into yours and your stumbled back slightly. “You think I’m only capable of being a monster? Huh? Is that what you fucking think?”
You were growing scared now, the look in his eyes wild with something and you didn’t like how close he was to you— you knew he’d never hurt you but your fear overwhelmed your senses.
“Friday— call Steve and Sam in here now!” You shouted into the room, and Bucky’s eyes squinted painfully— his metal arm whirring again.
Bucky only saw one thing— you didn’t reassure him that he was thinking irrationally. You didn’t correct him that he wasn’t the monster. Instead you called for help, that you were clearly scared— because you thought he was a monster.
He was at a loss for words and just stared at you, almost through you— as his breathing was only getting heavier at the sight of your fearful eyes.
Not even minutes later, Steve and Sam were busting through the door, taking in the scene and separated you and Bucky.
“Hey— what’s going on?” Steve asked in between the two of you. “Buck, what’s wrong man?”
You couldn’t seem to find the words and just stood speechless as well— the fight startling you. This was one of the worst ones, and it was also one that still left you confused. You cursed yourself for not being careful enough with your words— but it was almost impossible to get through to him when he was on the brink of having an episode.
Sam walked closer to you, his facing morphing into concern as he took in your shocked expression.
“(Y/n)? You okay? Did he hurt you?” Sam whispered, keeping his words only between you two.
You slowly shook your head but still didn’t respond verbally.
“Okay, okay that’s good. You wanna go get a drink from downstairs? Why don’t we take a breather okay?” Sam suggested softly, big brother mode kicking in at the sight of your frazzled state.
Without another word, you left the room with Sam— missing the devastated look from Bucky.
Steve waited until the door shut, then his attention was back on Bucky.
“Buck, you gotta talk to me man— what happened?” He asked softly, watching his friend slowly relax, but it wasn’t from being in a relaxing mood— his body and mind were just exhausted from the argument.
“I fucked everything up. That’s what happened.” He mumbled, turning away from Steve to sit on the edge of his bed.
Steve followed behind but stood in front of him, shaking his head— ready to argue.
“You didn’t mess anything up, arguments happen. You guys will work it out. I know how much you mean to each other.” Steve pointed out, watching Bucky’s face unchanging.
“You didn’t see the way she looked at me— she’s scared of me I—” He shuttered, his breath shaky as he remembered your look, “I fucking scared her.”
Steve’s chest ached, the state of his friend breaking his heart. He knew Bucky meant no harm, and he almost for a fact knew that you knew that too. But Bucky for sure didn’t believe that himself.
“I didn’t see what you saw, but I can guarantee you that she’s not afraid of you. This is (Y/n) we are talking about. You are her world Buck.” Steve tried to convince him.
Bucky shook his head, running his flesh hand through his hair.
“I think I just need to stay away from her for awhile.” Bucky came up with instead.
Steve immediately started shaking his head, knowing that was the last thing he needed.
“Bucky I—”
“Please Steve… I just need some space.” Bucky pleaded, his body sagging in exhaustion.
Steve couldn’t find it in himself to argue with him anymore about this. Maybe he did need some time to himself, to cool down and gather his thoughts. Also Steve wasn’t going to force him to anything ever. After the years his pal went through— he would never make him do anything. He had enough things decided for him, and Steve wasn’t about to stoop to hydra’s level.
Meanwhile down in the kitchen, Sam was getting you a glass of water— standing across from your seated form at the island. He slid the cup across, sending a worried glance at you.
“(Y/n)?” Sam snapped his fingers getting your attention.
You were shaken from your state of staring, but even snapped out of the trance— the anxieties still swirled within you.
“Yeah sorry… I’m here.” You whispered, grabbing the glass and taking a tiny sip.
Sam gave you a quizzical expression, watching you start to slip back into a mindless stare— so he spoke up.
“You wanna tell me what happened?” He asked, genuinely curious what had went down.
He knew— hell everyone knew you and Bucky were extremely close. Best of friends, always there for one another— dancing on the line of strictly friends to lovers. Truthfully, Sam found it completely obnoxious and just wanted you two together already.
“I don’t really know… I think I said the wrong thing— I didn’t mean to make him upset.” You confessed, keeping your eyes on the countertop, not risking a glance to Sam.
“Hey, don’t beat yourself up— mistakes happen. I’m sure he’ll forgive you.” Sam told you.
You shook your head, gripping the cup tighter.
“God I hope so… I don’t know what I’d do without him.” You whispered pathetically, tears welling in your eyes.
Sam reached out to rub your arm comfortingly, trying to relax you so you didn’t start crying. He hated to see you cry— made his heart hurt.
“It’s been a long day for everyone, why don’t you go head upstairs and get some sleep. I’m sure things will have blown over by tomorrow.” He suggested and you finally met his gaze, smiling weakly and nodding.
Without saying goodbye, you stood up and headed to your room. Taking Sam’s words and playing them on repeat in your head.
Tomorrow is another day, tomorrow would be better.
God had you hoped that was the case— it only was the beginning on the torment.
You had slept in longer than usual, but overall felt refreshed. The first thing that came to mind when fully waking up was Bucky. Immediately you headed downstairs to find him— needing to talk with him— apologize.
Making it down to the kitchen, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in at the sight of him sitting at the island— sipping at his coffee. You furrowed your brows, thinking he'd be done with his coffee by now, since you had slept in. Your chest ached with guilt with the possibility that he didn't sleep well.
You took a deep breath before making yourself known, although you were sure be could sense you in the room— considering he was a super soldier.
"Morning Buck." You announced, walking around the island so you could face him.
He kept his gaze down at his coffee, finding the cup more interesting than you.
Okay, that’s fair. You thought, you most probably deserved that reaction.
“You sleep okay?” You asked again, picking at the skin on your nails nervously.
Again— he didn’t even lift his head. In fact, he wasn’t even acknowledging you. You waited several minutes for a response, the silence becoming thick with tension and you couldn’t stand it.
“Bucky?” You tried, and this time he lifted his head.
Your heart twinged in your chest at his bloodshot eyes, clear evidence that he hadn’t gotten good sleep. You hated yourself for causing him the stress, especially knowing he was just starting to actually get hours of sleep. It was huge progress compared to his nights either screaming awake or just staring at the walls. But now you had to go and ruin all that progress. You felt sick to your stomach— disgusted with yourself.
“I’m really sorry about last night… I didn’t like how ugly it got and I’m sorry if I said something to upset you— you know I’d never intentionally hurt you.” You told him, picking more aggressively at your nails, causing to nail beds to bleed.
You swallowed nervously when he didn’t answer right away, instead staring at you with… what was that? Disgust? You didn’t know, but you hated the look altogether.
“Bucky, please say something.” You pleaded.
Bucky lowered his gaze to his coffee again, taking a minute before he stood up and looked your way.
“I just need some space.” He told you quietly.
You were relived to have him finally talk to you, but to hear him suggest space between you two— you could almost feel the knife digging into your chest. You tried to keep a neutral expression but otherwise felt your bottom lip quiver.
Without giving you time to respond, Bucky was walking out of the room— leaving you standing there speechless, lungs begging for air. You didn’t want your mind to go immediately to that thought, but you couldn’t ignore it either— he hated you.
“Hey babe, I need you to help me out in the lab tod—” Tony came busting into the room, but immediately shut up once he saw your broken expression. “Honey, what’s wrong? You alright?”
You nodded your head, lying to him and yourself and started waving him off with the fakest smile.
“Yeah— yeah I’m good. Just need to uh— need to get some things done.” You told him, your eyes darting all around the room, the familiar feeling of panic seeping into your being.
Tony gave you a ‘really?’ look and stepped closer to you.
“(Y/n) I’m not blind— I can see you’re upset. Talk to m—”
“Seriously Tony— I’m fine! Just leave it alone!” You told him a little too aggressively.
His face was taken back and you felt guilty immediately, cursing yourself for hurting everyone.
Why are you such a fucking issue? Your mind screamed at you.
You didn’t waste another second and sped walked out of the room, needing to calm yourself down before you ran into any one else. You were spiraling and you needed to just relax— take a deep breath. Maybe you just needed one more day and things would be back to normal.
Yeah… just one more day.
You had hoped that was the case as well… but as always— things only got worse.
Bucky refused to talk to you or even look at you. He’d given you the cold shoulder for almost two weeks now. He would get up and leave the second you entered the room. He couldn’t stand you it seemed.
You couldn’t keep hiding your hurt. At first, you had done a good job at hiding how you were really feeling. Saving the sobbing and attacks for when you were alone in your room. As the days lingered on, you found yourself weak and drained— you didn’t have enough energy to put up a charade anymore.
The whole team were sending you worried looks, and attempted to talk with you. But the second they’d try— you’d bolt. The subject was too sensitive, too raw. You didn’t want to talk to anyone but Bucky— and he hated you.
You had missed so many meals, forgetting to eat with your mental struggles throughout the days. You had been getting no more than two hours of sleep. You were so stressed, so stuck in your own mind that you couldn’t function. Even when you had managed to remember to eat, your stomach would knot up to the point that you were throwing everything up. You were gaunt, basically a real life zombie. You needed help— but you needed Bucky more.
You were laying in bed staring unknowingly into space, it had been hard to focus with no food or sleep in your system— so you had only managed to lay here. Even that was exhausting, no matter how much you laid around— your mind wouldn’t stop the assault. Your anxiety had never been this bad, you were a prisoner to it.
Knocking at your door had you jumping, your heart racing— and for a moment you forgot where you were.
You’re in the compound… yeah that’s right.
You slowed your breathing and swung your legs sluggishly over the edge of the bed to answer it. You weren’t prepared for the sudden dizzy spell, your vision spotting with black and white specks. You tried to blink it off, but suddenly you were toppling to the ground.
You fell to the floor with a loud thump, luckily landing on your front, your hands somehow catching most of your fall— you could already feel the throbbing in your palms.
You didn’t hear the persistent knocking, or the door open. You didn’t even hear the voice speaking from the doorway. It was when a hand landed on your shoulder that you were gasping, forgetting your surroundings once again.
Your eyes met Steve’s and you swore your heart was about to beat out of your chest.
“(Y/n) are you alright?” He asked you, hovering his hands over you— not sure what you had hurt.
You furrowed your brows, looking him over.
“Steve what are… what are you doing here?” You asked genuinely confused.
You watched Steve’s eyes widen and he swallowed nervously— his expression growing more concerned.
“(Y/n) it’s okay… I’ve got you.” Steve hushed, and he was pulling you into his chest, hugging you protectively.
You were still confused but then you tasted one of your stray tears, and you immediately came to your senses. You were crying in Steve’s arms… but why? You were having gaps of time missing from you, this wasn’t the first time this had happened— you just didn’t seem to care.
“Steve… my head hurts.” You slurred into his chest, sagging against him.
You were grateful that he was here, you desperately needed someone around. You were just hoping that someone would’ve been Bucky.
“Okay, let’s get you to Helen. She’s gonna take care of you, okay?” Steve asked you, and you could only give a weak nod.
He knew there was no way you were walking there, so he hoisted you up into his arms, and cradled your head as he started to the med bay.
You just stared blankly at his chest, not really caring if Steve were to throw you off the roof of the building. You just didn’t care.
Steve had gotten you down to her, and she checked you out. Alerting Steve that you were extremely malnourished, dehydrated— an insomniac. She kept listing off all the things Steve was afraid to hear. The whole time he was sure you didn’t hear a thing, although you were in the room— you were just checked out.
Helen eventually left, and Steve took his opportunity to speak with you. He pulled up a chair next to the hospital bed and grabbed your hand.
“(Y/n), what’s going on? You can talk to me— you can’t keep doing this to yourself. Please… just talk to me.” Steve whispered, pleading with you that you would stop torturing yourself.
“He hates me.” You mumbled.
Steve’s eyes widened and he frowned, knowing what you meant. He knew he let this go on for too long.
“(Y/n) he doesn’t hate you. He just needed time to himself, so he co—”
“I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings, I don’t even know what I said to hurt him but I—” You rushed out, the heart monitor beeping frantically, “I’m a horrible person, I didn’t mean to— I didn’t mean to!”
You wheezed out, clutching your chest as you couldn’t catch your breath. Your cheeks glistened with a steady stream of tears, your wheezing only growing by the second.
“Okay, okay (Y/n)— I need you to slow your breathing. You’re okay, he doesn’t hate you. Just take deep breaths okay— even if you can’t just try. I’m here.” He tried to coach you, but this wasn’t his thing.
Now he was starting to get mad at his friend, Bucky shouldn’t of let this go on for this long.
You followed his chest rising and falling, staring at him as he tried to calm you down. Your breaths were heavy and painful sounding. Steve was about to say something but stopped himself when he saw your eyes look behind him.
He turned and saw Bucky standing in the doorway— his face paled. Truthfully, he looked like he was going to be sick.
“(Y/n)?” He whispered, his heart breaking at your state.
He had ran into Helen in the kitchen and was informed of your condition— he didn’t believe it and had to see for himself. He was shocked to find you like this.
Your tears only edged on from his appearance and you shook your head in shame.
“I’m sorry Bucky! Whatever I did, I’m sorry!” You sobbed and Bucky ran to the bed, kneeling down and taking your hands into his.
“Doll it’s okay, you’re okay. I’m here— I’m here. I’m not gonna leave you… I’m sorry.” He rushed out, shushing your cries, watching you slow your breathing at his words. “There we go, just keep breathing with me. I’m here, you’re okay.”
He kept repeating himself, making sure you knew he wasn’t going anywhere.
Steve knew you were in good hands and slowly snuck out of the room— knowing you two needed to talk.
Bucky tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, letting his fingers trail down your cheek to your jaw. You couldn’t help the way your face leaned into his touch, it felt like it had been forever since the last one.
Your breathing had slowed down, and now you just stared up at him— eyes glossy with more tears. You felt so many emotions. You felt relived, but also angry and hurt. Above all— you needed to know what you did to upset him. The guilt still ate away at your heart, and even just the memory of the argument had your chest aching.
“What did I do?” You whispered, making his eyes shoot up to yours, concern painting his face.
“You didn’t do anything.” He told you, and you furrowed your brows.
You were still anxious— he hadn’t answered your question. Even more so— if you didn’t do anything then why did he ignore you?
“Then why?”
“Why what (Y/n)?” He dared to ask, and you scoffed— ripping your hands out of his.
The anger was approaching.
“Why did you shut me out?” You wondered, and he only let his eyes cast down to the bed— making you angrier. “You ignored me for two weeks! Two fucking weeks you just acted as if I didn’t exist! Do you know how much that fucking hurts?”
You were breathing heavy again, but this time it wasn’t from panic— it was the full force of all your anger bursting out.
He lifted his eyes to you, and you saw how broken he looked. How your state had affected him.
“I could never do that to you Buck— I would never do that to you! You’re my everything! I don’t trust anyone as much as I trust you!” You raised your voice, while he stayed silent. “If I didn’t do anything then why would you— why—”
You broke out into a sob, covering your face with your hands. You felt good getting all the built up anger out— but now you felt extremely guilty. The pitiful face of Bucky staring at you, causing your heart to hurt all over again. It didn’t matter what happened, you always ended up hurting others.
“(Y/n) I’m so sorry I— god I fucked up. I didn’t ever mean to hurt you, please know that. You’re my other half, and no one has ever been there for me like you have.” He spoke through a tight throat, swelling with emotion.
You uncovered your face and just stared at him a little longer, still incredibly hurt from his actions— but you knew you couldn’t stay mad at him. You so badly wanted to forgive and forget— and just wrap him in your arms like you both needed.
“It’s hard to explain what’s wrong with me to someone when I don’t even understand what’s wrong with me— I just know I’m fucked up. I’m broken beyond repair.” His voice broke, his own eyes welling with tears.
You didn’t have it in you to keep up an angry facade, and so you reached out and took his hand in yours. His face almost immediately lit up, his breathing slowing at your touch.
“Try me.” You whispered, watching Bucky take a deep breath before he spoke again.
“The night of our fight…” He started, and you swallowed in having to remember that night. “I had never seen you look at me like that.”
You stayed silent, afraid to open your mouth and have a sob escape. You could feel it bubbling up— the memory playing back through your mind.
“You looked at me like you were scared. You looked at me like I was a monster.” He confessed and it all made sense to you now.
It wasn’t about what you said, it was your reaction that disturbed him to no ends. Even if you couldn’t control your reaction in the moment— you still felt guilty for causing him pain of remembering the hydra days.
“Oh Buck…” You whimpered, trying to pull him close— but he pulled away before he could reach your embrace.
“No— you don’t get to be nice to me after what I did. I promised I would never hurt you and I did— you’re in here because of me! I don’t deserve your forgiveness!” He raised his voice, and you weren’t scared of him— just concerned.
“I wasn’t scared of you Bucky, you just caught me off guard. Things were heated— I’m not afraid of you and I most definitely don’t think you’re a monster.” You tried to convince him.
“I really hope you’re not lying because if you were afraid of me… god I don’t know what I’d do. If you never wanted to see me again— that’s fine. Whatever you want, but I can’t live knowing you’re afraid of me.” He whimpered out.
“I wouldn’t lie to you.”
He nodded his head, knowing damn well you’d never lie. That was one thing he loved about you— you were so honest. Keeping it real with him, even if he didn’t wanna hear it. He could count on you for the truth.
“I still don’t deserve your forgiveness.” He argued.
“Well too bad, I’m forgiving you anyway.” You finally told him and he felt his chest expand.
Like he could finally breath.
“Why?” He wondered.
You knew it was the line you two had been dancing on forever— but you knew if there was ever a time to say it. It was now.
“Because I love you.” You admitted quietly.
His eyes widened just slightly, and his breath stuttered. He had always had a feeling what you two had was more than friends, he just never spoke up about it. Of course he loves you too— god he loves you so much. That’s why the thought of you being scared of him was enough to pull him away. He couldn’t bear being around you if you were frightened by him. He couldn’t live with himself. More importantly he now discovered, he really couldn’t live without you.
“I love you so much.” He confessed back as your tears leaked down your cheeks.
You pulled his arm, and he let you pull him to the bed— close enough where you could cup both his cheeks.
“Don’t ever do that to me again, please. I need you Bucky— life is not livable without you.” You cried, kissing his forehead to which he leaned into your lips.
“Never again— I promise.”
This time, he wouldn’t break it.
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hyunniesgirl · 2 months
Text
Stupid in love
Pairing: Seo Changbin x reader
Genre: angst, fluff
Summary: less than a month into the wedding, you get into a big fight with Changbin. When you think he's going to call it quits, he makes sure to show you that you're very much wrong.
Requested: yes
Warnings: a bit suggestive
All my works are for +18 audiences, minors do NOT interact!!
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You park in front of your house, the lights are on, your fiance is home. He's home and he stood you up. You're mad but mostly you're sad, you're overwhelmed and so tired, exhausted, actually.
You enter the house, hearing sounds in the kitchen, you don't even want to look at him right now. You want to yell at him, argue but you don't even have the energy to do that, so you just take your shoes off, leaving your coat hanging by the door and walking silently to the stairs so you can go to your room, wash up and just sleep until morning comes and you can pretend this day never happened.
“You're home?” You hear Changbin's voice as soon as you go up the first step to the second floor.
“Yes”, you say, continuing to go up.
You hear his footsteps coming after you, but you don't stop, you want to close the door right on his face.
“I ordered food”, he says again, confused as to why you didn't kiss him when you arrived or why you're not looking at him.
“I'm not hungry”, you say simply, stopping in front of the mirror to take your jewelry off. You give up on the idea of closing the door on his face, you don't want to hurt him even though you're furious. You take off your earrings, watching him through the reflection of the mirror. He's looking at you with a frown on his face, trying to figure out why you're angry, he's sure he didn't do anything this time.
“Are you mad?” He asks, naively.
“What do you think?” You ask back, glaring at his reflection.
“I think you are”, he pouts.
“Then you already have your answer”, you say, finishing taking the bracelets and rings off your fingers.
You turn around, walking past him and going to the bathroom to wash up, hearing his footsteps after you again. You sigh, why won't he leave you alone?
“I'm not sure what I did wrong this time”, Changbin clarifies, trying to make you tell him what's wrong.
You laugh, looking to the ceiling and trying to calm down. Turning to look at him and leaning on the bathroom counter, looking at your fiance with your arms crossed in front of your chest.
“I really don't know if I should feel less angry that you genuinely forgot about our cake tasting today and not just chose to ignore what I've been planning for months”, you say through gritted teeth, watching the panic form on the face of the man in front of you.
“I-it was today?” He stutters, patting his pants to find his phone and check on his agenda just to find the event he had scheduled on his calendar to be exactly today. “I didn't mean it”, he says, running his hand through his hair. “I had so many meetings today, I just got home”, he explains.
“I guess your work will always be your top priority”, you scoff, feeling tears starting to brim on your eyes.
“Don't be like that”, Changbin sighs, “you know you are my top priority but I'm not just an employee, I'm the CEO”, he pleads, you know that and you're so tired of that.
“I'm well aware of your position in the company”, you laugh, rolling your eyes. “That’s why I never say anything when you come home late or when I'm all ready for a date and you have to reschedule it because something came up”, you sigh, “I only asked this one thing of you: that you show up when we have something related to the wedding but you couldn't even do that for me”, you cry out, feeling the tears running out of your eyes.
“You're talking like I did this on purpose”, he murmurs, hurt showing in his eyes.
“I'm not saying this to make you feel guilty”, you run your hands through your hair, “you don't know how humiliating it was to wait for you there for three hours, Ryujin and my mom told me to reschedule but I told them that you were going to show up”, you take a deep breath, “jokes on me, I guess I'm the only one who cares about this fucking wedding”
“You're not the only one who cares”. He says with his voice a pitch higher, it happens when he gets nervous. “I'm trying to clean my schedule so we can go on our honeymoon without me having to worry about work. I have so many meetings every day and I have to pass all the work to my secretary so nothing goes wrong while I'm away”
“Maybe we shouldn't be doing this”, you whisper, putting your hands on your sides and squeezing the fabric of your shirt.
“Are you being for real?” He asks, incredulous, anger and resentment flooding his mind.
You regretted saying it the moment the sentence left your mouth, but unfortunately you can't unsay something, all the more something so hurtful as that.
“I-” you step closer to him, but Changbin steps back, shaking his head.
“I need to think”, he turns to the door, walking away and leaving you behind.
You're such an idiot, how could you say that to him? It doesn't matter how angry you are, there's no excuse to hurt someone you love like that. You feel the tears falling down your eyes while your knees give in and you fall on the floor, crying your eyes out. Did you ruin everything? Is he going to call off the wedding? Is he sick of you now?
Hours go by, you walk back and forth in the house, waiting for his car to park in front of the house but it doesn't come, he doesn't show up. Did he leave you? You should expect that much after what you said.
You lie down on your bed, hugging his pillow, feeling his scent and crying until the exhaustion from the day makes you fall asleep.
You're awake with rustling in the room, you open your eyes widely, seeing Changbin packing. Oh, he's leaving you already? Without even trying to talk?
You feel your tears showing up again and a sob escapes your lips, being followed by more sobs and wailing, making the man turn around to look at you scared.
“Hey, what's wrong?” He runs to you, jumping on the bed by your side and hugging your body, squeezing your cheek on his chest while he caresses your hair. “Did you have a nightmare?” He asks, worried and you shake your head.
“You shouldn't be nice if you're going to dump me”, you cry more, sobbing in his arms.
“Excuse me?” He holds you by the shoulders, pushing you away so he can look at your red and puffy face. “What are you talking about?”
“You're packing because you're calling off the wedding, right?” You point to the bags, “you hate me now, I know you do”, you cry more, burying your face on his chest, soaking his shirt with your tears.
“Bunny, look at me”, he repeats his action from before, pushing you so he can look at your eyes. “Why would I leave my beautiful and kind fiance?” He asks, smiling gently at you.
“Because I was mean, I didn't really mean that we shouldn't get married, I really want to marry you”, you start mumbling, making him chuckle.
“That's great, because I still really want to marry you too”, he clarifies, coming closer and kissing your forehead. “I was packing because I'll be kidnapping you today”, he smirks, watching your eyes glow with expectation.
“Where are we going?” You ask him but he shakes his head.
“It's not a kidnapping if you know where I'm taking you”, he looks at the watch on his wrist, “you have exactly ten minutes to get ready, if I come back here and you're not done I'll take you with me anyway”, he informs you.
“Binnie!”, you pout, “I can't even take a shower in ten minutes”
“Too bad for you then, you better get to work. Tik tok”, he jokes, making you huff, jumping from the bed and running to the bathroom.
You take the quickest shower you have ever took, hurrying to the bathroom counter to brush your teeth with one hand while brushing your hair with the other, thinking about what you're going to wear. You're sure this is his revenge, he's torturing you because you were mean to him.
You figure you still have two minutes before he shows up, so you put on jeans and a long sleeve shirt.
“Times up”, Changbin's head pops on the door, a smug smile on his lips.
“I didn't even put any makeup on”, you plead, looking at the things you need right in front of you.
“Nope, don't even think about it”, he walks up to you, chuckling when you pout. You're ready to fight him on that, when he grabs you by the hips, throwing you on his shoulder.
“Binnie! What are you doing?” You kick and wiggle trying to make him release you.
“It's not a kidnapping if you go with me willingly”, he points out, making you laugh, he's unbelievable. This man is insane.
“I can't believe you”, you sigh when he drops you on the passenger's seat of his car, fastening your seatbelt. You watch as he walks around the front of the car and gets in the car. While you watch him turning on the engine and starting to drive, you wanna cry again. You just love him too much.
“I'm sorry about yesterday”, you bite on your bottom lip, “I was really exhausted and angry but that's not an excuse to say those things to you”
Changbin nods, stopping at a red light and looking at you.
“Let's just say we are even now”, he grins, grabbing your hand and giving you a quick peck on the lips.
When you arrive at the airport, he tells you to cover your eyes the whole time until you get into the plane, making sure you have no idea where you're going. When you finally see Jeju island through the plane's window, you look at him excitedly, just to find the man taking a nap. He must have stayed awake all night long, making this trip happen. You watch as his chest rises and falls, slowly, his dark hair covering his eyes.
You really don't know what you would do if he really had called the wedding off, maybe you would have begged but something you're sure is that you wouldn't be able to let him go.
As soon as the plane lands, you wake him up, shaking him a bit. His eyes flutter open and he smiles at you, brushing his fingers on his eyes to help him wake up.
“Shall we?” He offers his hand to you, seeing you nod and take his hand. Changbin stands up, pulling you with him, walking behind the people getting out of the plane.
You feel like the sun shines brighter in Jeju, the weather is warm and nice, like the perfect day for a trip. After renting a car, you two drive to the hotel, Changbin has everything ready with a suite already reserved for you.
You're a bit tired, after barely sleeping at night you are a bit sleepy but you won't go to sleep, you want to enjoy every minute you can with your man.
“I'm going to take a shower and later we can go to the beach”, you tell him, stepping closer to wrap your arms around his waist and to give him a peck on the lips.
“Should I let you, though?” He wraps his arms around you, “maybe I should keep you stuck in bed with me, paying for being so mean to me”, he smirks.
“You know damn well that that wouldn't be a punishment”, you step away, pushing him a bit.
“But I deserve compensation”, Changbin points out. “Don't I?” He grins, making you sigh.
You throw your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Enough for you to be able to touch his lips with yours, feeling his hot breath mixing with yours, his scent is just intoxicating you feel like you can go insane at any moment.
He wraps his arms around your waist, pressing you against him, seizing the opportunity and pushing you against the wall. You sigh when he pulls away from you, landing kisses down your jaw and neck, sucking on your soft skin.
“Stop right there mister”, you come to your senses, pushing him away, making him whine. “Did you bring me here just to have sex?” You squeeze your eyes, judging him.
“No, I just can't resist you”, he pouts, giving in. “You can take your shower, I'll wait”
He gives you a quick kiss and turns around, walking to the bed and sitting on the edge, sighing dramatically.
You try to walk normally, but your legs are about to give in. Changbin mustn't know the power he has over you, you'll be done for if he ever finds out.
You two walk by the beach, watching the sunset. He holds your hand with both of his, caressing yours dearly while watching you.
“You know, I love you”, he says out of nowhere, making you turn to look at him. You blush, as if you have never heard that before.
“I love you too”, you answer.
“I don't think you understand the depth of my love for you, though”, he clarifies. “The fact that you thought I was going to call everything off because of a fight shows that you're not aware of the hold you have on me”, the man steps closer, lifting one of his hands to your face and caressing your cheek. “Y/N, I love you when you're kinda, I love you when you're smart and I love you when you're funny, but I also love you when you're angry, I love you when you are upset and I love you when you're sad. I love you every hour, every minute and every second of the day and unless you dump me, I won't let you go so easily.” He smiles, chuckling to your eyes brimming with tears, you're such a cry baby.
“I'm not a lyricist like you, so I'm not as good with expressing myself”, you tell him, wiping your eyes, “but I love you so much, you have no idea how much I do. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and I promise I'll prove my love to you everyday”, you smile, giving him a quick kiss. “I don't want to wait three weeks to be your wife”
“Then, let's not wait”, Changbin suggests, kissing the back of your hand. He chuckles seeing the confusion on your face. “Let's get married today, no guests, no fancy party, just you and me and probably two strangers to be our witnesses”
“What are you talking about?” You ask, confused but you can't help the smile that grows on your lips.
“Let's register our marriage right now, we can do the big party later as we planned but right now we can do it just you and me, what do you think?” He asks, hopeful. You give him the biggest smile, throwing your arms around his neck and in a second his arms are wrapped around your waist, spinning with you, making you giggle excitedly.
You and Changbin run to the city, buying him a suit and a white sundress for you. Outside of the register office, you find two people nice enough to agree on witnessing your wedding. Your fiance prepared two rings made of flowers that would probably not last more than a day, but the important thing isn't anything like that. The most important thing is the spark in his eyes when he's looking at you, while waiting to sign the papers. The most important thing is how he presses his lips on your knuckles after putting on the flower ring on your finger. The most important thing is that you're husband and wife now. And that you'll never ever let go of each other.
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cursedcola · 2 months
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Prompt: "Will You Marry Me?"- Proposal Headcannons Characters: Everyone :) Part(s): Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia (Pt.1 !) (Pt.2 Here!) Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Warning(s): None. I mean, unless you don't want to marry any of them. Just don't read if that's the case. ALSO SLIGHT SPOILER FOR CHAPTER 7 IN SILVER Note: These are all if he is the one proposing btw. Also, I went overboard. I had to break Diasomnia into 2 parts because I exceeded tumblr's character limit. I have favorites I guess :/
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This man is a child masquerading as an adult. As in to say that he resists any illogical emotions until they bottle up and explode. The traditional pathway for finding a life partner typically follows: stranger -> acquaintance -> friend -> crush -> lover ->partner. You know, as it normally goes when bonds form.
Sebek....is not a textbook case in this regard. His path is a bit more customizable
stranger -> person he is forced to interact with -> acquaintance of Lord Malleus -> Acquaintance of Lord Malleus that Sebek approves of -> Friend that Lord Malleus approves of -> Repressed Crush -> Acquaintance that Sebek avoids at all costs -> Acknowledged crush -> Acknowledged crush that Lord Malleus approves of -> Respected individual with mitigated interactions -> Courting -> awkward situationship -> lover -> awkward situationship (with better communication) -> spouse
Enough said.
This process isn’t as complicated as it may seem on paper. While there are many steps, Sebek is fortunate enough to have people in his life willing to force commitments onto him. It also helps that he has blind trust in a select few. This makes him a bit naive and easily influenced. A boon in the right hands, and a bane in others.
In short, Sebek is emotionally constipated and only acts when there’s a driving force. Otherwise he just gets frustrated. This is extremely apparent at two stages: ‘repressed crush’ and ‘awkward situationship’. Scratch that. Three stages.
Beginning at ‘repressed crush’ - Sebek realizes that he likes you when you ask about how his training is going. He happened by your dorm during his morning jog, and was more than happy to go off on a tangent of the strict regimen developed to forge a perfect knight.
Except that’s not what you wanted to hear. You were more interested in his health and how he was enjoying himself rather than how his work was benefitting Malleus.
His heart fluttered, as if a shock of electricity thrummed through his body. Having never felt this before, Sebek mistakes it for a lapse in his strength and runs off at a much faster speed than before. Forget a light jog, he had enough energy to run 500 laps around the school track.
Don’t you get it human?! You were distracting him! His body was at rest too long. Now shoo, you’re hindering him from doing his duty.
He represses these budding romantic feelings and ‘misinterprets’ them as deviant behavior. He even goes so far as to blame it on ‘useless hormones’ and convinces himself that it’ll pass. He spares it no thought until his pining becomes apparent to everyone except for himself
Que the driving force. Despite Sebek believing otherwise, he does have friends and his entire love-life can be credited to their affectionate stupidity.
Simply put, Ace takes every chance to seamlessly flirt with you whenever Sebek is around. Not in a subtle way either - he's making some risky comments and trying to eat up every moment of your time. The others in your year are well aware of what he's doing too. Deuce thinks he's being unnecessary, but also agrees that Sebek needs a push so he lets it happen. Epel has his gripes with Sebek, but admires him for his manly tenacity. So he's 100% in support of giving an extra push and even tries to copy Ace. Except... yeah, he's pretty bad at flirting so he gives up after one try. Jack is against it at first, not wanting to hurt your feelings in the process but gets talked into it after seeing you get salty over Sebek being distant. Ortho, bless his innocent soul, thinks of it as a fun experiment. Lil guy just wants everyone to be happy.
You have no idea though, which is great because all of Ace's attempts fail hardcore. Sebek and his chivalrous ways (jealousy) won't stand by if you're being constantly bombarded with 'unwanted' romantic affections.
Nevermind that you don't seem to be taking Ace seriously at all. It is still not proper behavior! It would be a stain to his Lord's image if Sebek knowingly let Malleus' beloved friend endure such a hardship.
Every time Ace makes an attempt, Sebek shuts him down faster than you ever could. You have no idea how he does it, but Sebek is always around when it happens. The timing is honestly creepy....until you catch on to what's happening because the Ramshackle prefect isn't a dumdum.
"So....prefect, how about we go get dinner together tomorrow? Just you and me, what do ya say?" Ace slides into the seat to your right during breakfast. He leans in on his fist, eyeing you with a mischievous grin that crinkles the heart on his cheek. Just as he does, Sebek occupies the seat at your left and pushes Ace back with his palm.
"Do you ever rest?! They will do no such thing, now eat your meal before it runs cold. The chefs worked too hard for their efforts to be wasted by a delinquent!" Sebek answers on your behalf like clockwork. This event was not an uncommon sight to anyone, neither was Sebek failing to control his volume, so no other student paid the show any mind.
Normally you'd let them spit a few words at each other before returning to their own devices. Yet letting this continue just felt cruel, especially knowing that Ace was doing it to get a rise from your friend. Although Sebek wasn't innocent in the matter either
"Alright - Ace, would you knock it off? You don't even like me that way so quit messing with my head. I thought you were better than this," you say in between bites, side-eyeing your friend with a disapproving glare "And you!" you turn to Sebek, "I can answer for myself. Why do you even care? It's not like you're in charge of my love life. Just because someone wants to date me doesn't make them a delinquent...sheesh"
Why...why does he care? Sebek short circuits at your scolding, opening and closing his mouth to rebuttal yet coming up with nothing. Angered by his own turmoil, he grabs his meal and goes to sit with others from his dorm.
Stupid human. How dare you be so haughty and ungrateful? He was just protecting you from....from, what exactly? It's not like you going out with Ace would impact him in any way. It's not like you were in danger or upset with his advances. If anything. he was doing a good job at keeping your relationship professional for the sake of his liege!
Go ahead and date that childish hooligan for all he cares! Sebek won't be there to protect you when you're lost, or lend you a scarf on cold winter days. Ace can be the one to call you before bed every night, and keep your yearbook photo on his desk. Possibly keep his favorite candid photo as a bookmark for his diary, not that Sebek would know anyone that keeps a journal. He can have your birthday written in his calendar with a heart drawn around it, and have your picture in his wristwatch. He can set alarms to know when your classes end and walk you home. He can worry when you're sick and listen to your obnoxious prying....he can receive all your affections, and have your loyalty. Listen to your silly ramblings and receive those random 'i just thought of you' presents that Sebek always has a dilemma over what their purpose serves
You can be Ace's headache, and Sebek's heart will be lighter for it. These attachments he's formed were a lapse in judgement and will never be allowed again.
...
Sebek asks his lord for permission to court you. The next morning Malleus wakes to find the devotee bowed outside his bedroom, forehead attached to the floor and hands laid flat on the ground in reverence. Sebek proceeds to begin a long rant about how he's succumbed to his inner demons, and that he has sinned for letting another in his heart - Malleus cuts him off, happy to see love blossoming and interested to watch it all play out. He tells Sebek to take good care of you, before leaving. Meanwhile Sebek is sobbing at his lord's blessing
Once he's gathered himself, Sebek runs to your dorm and pounds on the door with fervor despite the early hour
Grim shakes you out of sleep, grumbling something about an 'annoying bastard' at the door before flopping back in bed. He shoves two pillows over his ears and tells you to fix the problem. That's when you hear the thumping, it's relentless and somehow sours your mood beyond what you thought possible. Mornings were not meant to exist on the weekend. So with an irritated groan, you slip on a robe over your pajamas and answer the door. A fist pauses in the air, moments from striking you. Sebek freezes momentarily, his body going ridged before coughing into his fist. A light blush dusts his cheeks.
“G-good morning, human. I apologize if I've disturbed your sleep, but I have an important announcement that cannot wait any longer" Sebeck studders, focusing on the door pane instead of your disheveled morning appearance.
“Alright" you sigh, resigning yourself to his whims, "what is it?"
Sebeck bows at the waist. "I am in love with you. Please accept my affections."
And so the motions continued on. A most unconventional pairing - possibly the hottest topic of the school year, in the words of Cater Diamond - was formed. Sebek was cautious of Ace at first, their previous spats leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. When he found out the truth, he was both appalled and grateful. So much that he scorned all his friends for weeks on end for pulling a stunt like that - but also thanking them. He apologizes for calling Ace a delinquent, and his heart changes a bit in response to their 'unique' display of care. Their intentions were good, and in the end it worked out. So he can pardon the indiscretion.
Life goes on until your relationship forms an 'awkward situationship'. The first time is brief. As it is with most cases of young love, the binding force that ties you to them crumbles. On earth it is highschool. In Twisted Wonderland it is NRC. Sebek knows where he's going - to serve the Draconias . The grey area is what you plan to do...because as much as his affections have grown, Sebek isn't willing to give up his dreams for you.
He's astonished when you decide to follow him to Briar Valley. He doesn't even have to breech the topic - arrangements were already being made without his input. You wouldn't be staying at the palace against his Lord's wishes. Instead a small cottage was built at a safe distance from the main city. Close enough for you to visit the castle, and far enough for you to feel comfortable and not out of place.
Seeing you taking his wants into consideration alters Sebek's perception of your relationship. You truly were lovers, and not a passing 'hormonal induced fling'. You loved him, and it's here when he truly begins to consider a forever. It was like the time when he first called your name, no longer calling you by 'prefect' or 'human'. He had done it many times in private, yet doing so to your face altered his brain chemistry. He loved the way your name rolled off his tongue, and the way your attention became his at the call.
Which leads us to the third and final major block-aid. Years have passed, and Sebek's well grown as an established knight for the Draconia family. He works alongside Silver, and many other comrades in arms. Everything is exactly as he dreamed. Malleus has become a beloved, strong king. Sebek is respected, and you are thriving as well. He didn't have much faith in your ability to last alone - it's not that he doubts your abilities, but he did doubt his people. When you first moved to Briar Valley Sebek was well aware that there were many like his past self - fae with a hatred for humans. He worried you would struggle to fit in.
Yet you surprised him. The tensions did exist against your kind, but you managed to card a space for yourself in Briar Valley with ease. You didn't even work in the palace, instead choosing to work towards becoming a children's teacher and work towards helping future generations of fae feel comfortable around humans.
His family adored you - with his mother in particular fawning over how Sebek fell down the same pipeline she did. His father offers you both advice on being an interspecies couple - and Sebek actually found himself listening.
Huh. Character growth. Is this what it's like to mature?
All is perfect, yet not. Sebek is forced to confront this when news travels that a human was attacked on their way to the palace. The dread that coursed through his veins was unlike anything Sebek's felt in his entire life. Under Malleus' rule, humans were slowly becoming more prevalent in Briar Valley. They hadn't mentioned your name specifically, but he jumped the gun.
Against his better judgement, Sebek abandons his post and rushed to the city's clinic. The injured human wasn't you, thank the seven, but the dread lingered. So he ran to the school you taught at and practically barged into your classroom. Luckily it was empty as the day was near end. Sebek hadn't known that yet still behaved recklessly.
He rushed to your side, talking faster than your brain could keep up with while checking over your body. He flipped topics like a teen trying to pick a college major - scolding you for worrying him, blubbering gibberish about how you'd no longer be allowed to walk alone, and myriad of other things.
Sebek was so shook, that he completely forgot about his knightly station. Malleus didn't punish him for abandoning his post. Not like it mattered, considering Sebek was already doing ample damage on his own. The realization hit him like a stone punch to the gut - there was a threat to his liege, and instead of focusing on apprehending the criminal he chose to find you.
Malleus' power or his dismissal of the matter meant little in the overall picture. Sebek failed. He's ashamed beyond belief.
and yet, he can't help but wonder what ight have been. What if you were the one attacked and he chose to stay? He would have failed you in that scenario.
He's surprised to find that the prospect his failure hurts just as much - if not more. His lord is powerful, and there are many to serve him. Your last moments could have been spent in a cold medical bed, surrounded by strangers. Fading away and taking Sebek's dreams with you.
............
Ah. Since when had that word become plural? His dream was always to serve Lord Malleus. Now there are more - he wants a family, and he wants to go to that play you were organizing with the valley's children next weekend. He wants to become a greater knight to protect the city that houses all the people he cares about. Again, plural. Lilia, Silver, his siblings and parents, all the human and fae who are loyal subjects to his most revered. You, and your decedents to come.
It's frightening. How valuable one's life can become. His always belonged to the Draconia bloodline to do with at they pleased - now Sebek's in pieces. Is he truly worthy of being a knight if he cannot give his whole heart?
He doesn't blame you for this. In his youth Sebek might have tossed your relationship aside in a heartbeat - that, or he might've demanded Malleus dismiss him and send him to repent in exile or whatever. Sebek has a problem with embellishing with dramatics.
BUT... he's more mature now. Mature enough to realize that maybe he can have his cake and eat it too.
So, he asks Lilia for advice. At this time the general merely lazes around the castle like a bat on the wall - acting as an advisor and observer. Surely he'd know what to do.
"There is nothing wrong with sharing a heart amongst many. If anything, the toughest decisions make us stronger. The more you have to lose, the stronger you will become to protect"
Preach it grandpappy. Lilia wants to see his grandkids so stop the slow burn already.
It's deja vu because Sebek wants to propose as quick as possible. Just like when he confessed, the man nearly runs to your home on impulse. You can thank Lilia for your proposal not taking place at 3am with your door being broke in two (Sebek is much stronger than he was in his teens, and sometimes miscalculates his strength).
Instead, Sebek finds himself anxiously clutching a ring in his pocket the following week. It was the night of a school play you were hosting - one he was looking forward to since you were so proud in your work. Ergo, Sebek felt pride as well by default.
How unfortunate that he can't focus on the show. With his mind reeling so much, it's taking all he has to sit quietly in the audience. His eyes follow your movements as you direct the kids, and for a brief moment you smile at him from the stage.
Zap. Alright. Don't clutch metal when you're a living thunderbolt. Duly noted. If anything the jolt of pain brings him back to reality.
When the play ends, and all the children have gone home with their families, he finds you back stage sweeping confetti. His plan was to congratulate you, and take you to a nice restaurant where he could do this properly.
Except he can't wait. When you turn around from putting the broom away, he's already taken a knee and holding the ring out. Those diligent gold iris' not pulling away for one moment, as he holds the ring out between two fingers and his other hand placed over his heart as if taking an oath.
"Before you say anything - You have sacrificed time and time again for my happiness - my efforts are insignificant in comparison. I have taken your patience for granted like a spoiled juvenile. There was a time when I found this kindness of yours unnecessary. I thought it a distraction - a test of my strength to fulfill my destiny. I see now that I was foolish”
Sebek pauses, grinding his teeth together in regret and anguish.
“I had not known fear until you. I have more to lose now than ever before. Last week I abandoned my post - my purpose- In that moment, all I could think about was if you’d been attacked, then my life would be over. You make me lose all sense of logic and reason…so I demand that you take responsibility and marry me!”
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{A gold band with an obsidian base. Gold and silver flakes are sealed atop the obsidian plate using resin. Very practical, yet charming nonetheless. Humans typically wear matching bands, yes? Sebek sees no purpose in getting separate designs since the point is to show proof of partnership. He needs a practical shape that will not interfere with combat, yet also wants it to be an aesthetic choice. Sebek could care less about looks, but if he’s going to give you a ring then it will be the best possible option to match to your worth}
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Silver is beautiful like still ocean waters. He's breathtaking - literally and figuratively. With the beauty of a fairytale prince, personality of a wise knight, and deadliness of the deep sea. It's easy to be sucked in when Silver seemingly has no flaws. So easy that at one point there were rumors of him being a living doll, created by the fae to be a perfect solider.
These perceptions all rely on his outward appearance: the knight in shining armor. Albeit so, being so perfect almost makes him unnoticeable. Compared to his rowdy peers with quirks and notable personalities - Silver truly is a doll. Like the complacent child praised for being more mature than their siblings. He is as easily forgotten as he is admired.
Some would say that this is a flaw in itself - because no one is naturally perfect. No one is so complacent and calm at birth. It's simply a desirable flaw. One that hurts him, yet has ben praised by others.
Silver is strong. Silver is diligent. Silver is beautiful. Silver is breathtaking and yet not the showstopper - like gold. Gold brings warmth while silver is cold. Imperfections in gold give it character, and can be seen as art. Imperfections in silver are seen as unsightly scratches.
Silver knows this, yet doesn't want to be gold. He doesn't deserve to be gold.
Silver doesn't deserve anything. He has already taken so much simply by living. He has a world to be grateful for, and not enough time to repay his debts.
He is content being Silver - if he could then he'd be copper. Lesser. Yet he is Silver, a reminder of the blood he carries.
He will remain unremarkable yet dedicated. He will dedicate everything to his family and friends - do whatever he can to break free of his sleeping curse and help others. He will give until he cannot give anymore. Then he will give more, to repay all he has received.
....For as much as he is content with this life, Silver still envies gold.
You are beautiful like a new dawn. Ushering in each day with a vibrant display that commands attention. People instinctively admire you despite the risk of hurting their eyes. You heal the world naturally, and help others simply by existing. People take you for granted, because inevitably the moon will rise, and the cold will inevitably return.
You were bathed in golden light. This Silver noticed the moment he laid eyes on you. He couldn't tear his eyes away.
Silver envies gold.
........
You envy Silver. His calm, his family, his dedication despite being limited by his crippling drowsiness. Out of the students from Diasomnia, he was the one you lingered towards more often than not. The freshmen revered him for his skills, and he was a true gentle soul. You at first couldn't believe that he was Lilia's son - how did such a kind boy come from a rambunctious tease? Revelations of his past brought much to light, and now you couldn't think of him being anyone else.
Silver was loved like the first snowfall. He had a family that loved him dearly, no matter how short his time with them would be. He was raised to bring happiness to others, and protect their hearts using his demure temperament.
Silver was modest, and silver glistened when you'd expect him to the least. As the wind caressed his hair during an afternoon siesta, or sparks lit in his eyes while swinging his sword. How the horses nuzzle his side after equestrian practice, showing full trust and affection. Even in the sweat dripping from his brow, shining as he easily finishes a set of push ups.
Yet nothing struck your heart more than the melancholy he'd emit when no one was looking. How quickly he'd fade into the background, only popping in when necessary or if someone gave him note. In these moments Silver gleamed brilliantly, yet a shadow put out his shine.
You thought the melancholy inviting. It felt so natural, so real. Except you believed it balanced dangerously between despair and serene. The larger question being which side would he evidently fall towards.
.........
Silver admires gold.
He couldn't stop the pull. He just couldn't. Not with how you seemingly watch him when no one else does. Who wouldn't feel special? With the way you take note of things he normally wouldn't think of, and recklessly delve into helping others with no regard for yourself. Whether you desire the trouble is beyond him - the matter is that you see every issue through. There isn't a soul who doesn't know of the ramshackle prefect.
Perhaps this is his torment to endure. To get a taste for what he could have been, and willingly be tied to it.
Silver stares into a vanity mirror, his expression neutral despite the growing emotions inside. A slightly tattered sheet is tied around his neck like a bib, covering his front and part of his back. A shiver runs down his spine as you comb through his hair, deftly trimming the edges with a pair of kitchen scissors with the precision of a professional. A shiver runs down his spine every time your fingers linger against his scalp, either from tucking stray strands or combing through layers with your fingertips.
Your expression is stern, eyes intensely focused as you cut around his ear, afraid to nick him in the process. He finds the expression adorable yet bites his tongue. Silver couldn't think those thoughts. Not when you offered to do this out of the kindness of your heart.
Nonetheless, his heart thrums. If it were possible he'd think the organ about to pop out at any moment.
"Finished!" you smile in satisfaction and tussle Silver's soft locks for good measure. In one fell swoop, you undo the knot around his neck and pull the makeshift apron off of him. Silver nods, a slight smile teasing the edge of his lips. He stands from the chair and steps over any hair on the floor, reaching for the broom to clean before you could think to. "Thank you. I no longer need to schedule with a barber. This will save much time," In truth he had no intentions for a haircut. You were the one to notice how his bangs hindered his vision, and offered to help. Silver couldn't bring himself to deny your kindness. "You really like it? Hehe. Y'know, maybe I should start a shop on campus? I only started doing this since there aren't any affordable salons....maybe with it I can finally afford to fix the guest room!" you cheer and prattle on about all the different possibilities. Occasionally you'll ask for Silver's input, or even give an off hand compliment about how he was the perfect 'test subject'. Your company is intoxicating, he realizes. Talking with you is as easy as drinking water. Before Silver realizes, night has fallen and you've fallen asleep on the couch. Despite his better judgement, he finds himself wandering the Ramshackle door. He compulsively cleans up the mess you'd both left behind during his visit, doing the dishes from dinner and rearranging things here and there. As he does so, Silver notes all the little improvements around the dorm. It feels more like a home than a school building. Then again you do live alone. He wonders how often you host visitors, and if you unknowingly ensnared them just as you've done to him. He covers your shoulders with a blanket and steps outside under the moonlight.
It’s cold.
...............
You wake up the following day to find all the windows shut, your living room clean, and a warm blanket covering your shoulders. Your eyes peer around for silver, yet turn up empty.
Of course. Silver has a dorm to return to and people that would miss him if he returned late.
Shuffling around the silent dorm, the rickey old floorboards creek underneath your weight. In manufactured motions, you brew a cup of tea and pour it into the only well-used cup from the cabinet.
As your cup brews, you sit at the table with the blanket still clutched tight over your shoulders.
The tea goes cold, yet you are warm.
................
Silver loves gold.
but silver and gold don't mix. The question always is: silver or gold? When deciding a piece of jewelry to match your skin tone, people will ask 'silver or gold'? The metals are not meant to mix because they clash. It's an outfit catastrophe.
Yet, Silver cannot help but wonder. As he lays with his head in your lap and the sun and silence coaxing him to slumber - what if an outfit existed to compliment both silver and gold?
"Silver..are you sleeping again?" you tap his cheek with one hand, and his eyes open instinctively. Despite his drowsiness he will always look for you. Yet right now he's never regretted the magnetic pull more. With the sun casting a golden overcast, you peer down at him from above with tender eyes typically reserved for one's child. Your glow is breathtaking, and he cannot help the sinking feeling in his stomach that he is unworthy. With such gentle hands combing across his scalp and eyes that look upon him so tenderly - he is afraid to steal your warmth. And yet… "You are beautiful," Silver lets it slip, his hand reaching to brush against your jaw as if under a spell. He feels unnervingly calm. Not in his usual way, where he is constantly observing and playing a game of mental chess. This is a true calm, and he knows now that this is a point of no return.
Silver is beautiful like a still ocean. You are beautiful like the rising sun. When combined, a perfect image is formed just waiting for an artist to stumble upon it.
Against his wishes, the world has granted the child of dawn another gift. The gift of true love. 'True love's kiss will break the curse' and while it is childish to believe so in this case, Silver does so wholeheartedly.
When with you, the days pass like minutes. He wants nothing more than to forgo need for sleep, if only to work harder towards becoming a man worthy.
Silver envies gold for it's effortless demand for love, yet he no longer wants to be gold. He no longer wishes he were born copper.
Gold loves silver, so Silver he will be.
And with time, both Silver and Gold will be ground to dust regardless.
He thinks of this on a winter evening while holding a ring up into the moonlight. It's cold outside, yet he doesn't mind. The chill atop his nose does nothing but tinge it a lovely rosy color.
He looks through the windowpane into a home masquerading as a school building. His reflection is familiar yet changing rapidly in comparison to his family. The years have aged him, yet not by much. Silver is stronger, his soft jaw a bit sharper. His bangs have grown long again, it would soon be time for a cut. Perhaps he'd enlist a 'barber' after relocating back to the castle in briar valley.
Inside you sit at the couch, sipping from a well-used mug with Grim on your lap and watching cartoons. Silver's bag rests on the armchair, unzipped with nightly necessities spilling out the side. A slightly newer baby blue mug sits on the coffee table, with steam evaporating into the air as it waits to be used.
Silver smiles, walking towards the door and walking inside. Heat warms his cheeks and he is calm.
"I know I am unworthy of you, the thought plagues me to this very moment. Yet I cannot help but love you - like wishing on a star yet knowing deep in the depths of your heart that miracles are made not granted. I've received many, so I would know. My father gifted me life through love - and with you I understand how it is possible. I cannot imagine life without you. I promise this, I will cherish you and protect you for as long as you allow it. Would you marry me?"
Months later a ceremony is held in a secluded forest, in the yard of a cottage where a child first learned love. As an adult, he joins his most precious in matrimony, offering his sword to be sworn faithful.
You are beautiful like the first breech of daylight - and for once, Silver is happy to be a man of dawn.
Silver and gold.
Silver and gold.
Everyone wishes for silver and gold.
How do you measure it's worth?
Just by the pleasure it gives here on earth.
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{A ring forged from a silver band, gold leaf embellishments, and a moss agate core. Enough said.}
1K notes · View notes
shiny-jr · 8 months
Text
from IGNIHYDE
- Warning: Yes, this is still a yandere thing. You have been warned. Gender-neutral reader.
- Characters: Idia Shroud, Ortho Shroud.
- Summary: (Continuation, after this “we just got a letter, wonder where it’s from”) You have barred them from entering the safety of Ramshackle Dorm, but they are determined to make their words reach you. Which is why the letters begin arriving at your doorstep.
- Note: This seems a little more low-key than Diasomnia, but the obsession is there if you squint. It’s just way more low-key than the previous group. For some reason I feel like I maybe wrote Ortho a little off? Not sure. Feel free to tell me your thoughts.
Diasomnia   |   Ignihyde   |   Pomefiore
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The break ends quickly. Too quickly. Before you know it, you’re back in front of the mountain of unread letters that appears even more ominous than before now that you could guess what sort of dark contents they may hold. 
For your own peace of mind, you’ve decided to read only two and then take a pause right after. 
The first of which was just a simple long white envelope. That’s it. There was nothing that stood out about it, no special seal or stamp. It was just the generic type of encasing that made it look like it was some sort of bill instead of a letter containing what was bound to be a message that unsettled you in some way, shape, or form. 
When you removed the letter, you was surprised to see that it wasn’t handwritten, it had been typed and printed out. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who this was from. 
Player, 
I messed everything up.
I don’t even see a point to doing this, writing this for you. I mean, if I were you, I’d never want to see my no-good miserable face ever again. I’d go to every length just to avoid even speaking to me again, and to spite them I’d never even show myself around again. But–– Ortho was making a letter and brought my keyboard to my lap. He said it was worth a shot, and if anything, it could be used as an apology so... sorry.
Any sorry would sound half-assed, considering what happened. It’s not like it matters, since I’m sure you wouldn’t read this. I imagine you would figure out it’s from me, and proceed to tear it up, burn it, whatever. And honestly? Valid. At this point, I’m sort of using it as a vent. Usually, I’d be telling Ortho all this, but all these thoughts I’m having would only bum him out and he’s depressed enough as it is. 
You know what sucks besides all of this? The fact that I genuinely tried. I actually tried to be a help for once, and like it always ends, my attempt to help screwed it up even more. Maybe if I had kept my mouth shut and minded my own business while holing myself up in my room like I always do, things wouldn’t have turned out this bad. If I just did what I was good at, which is nothing, Ortho and I might’ve avoided the shitstorm. Everyone else is currently throwing pity parties and plotting these super over elaborate schemes to try and interact with you by luring you out of the Ramshackle place. 
Ortho’s been coming up with plans too with other guys from the dorms that are just so desperate for your attention. It’s sad to watch, pathetic too, but I don’t have the heart to tell him not to bother with it. And me, I know better. If I were in your position and I saw all these attempts, it would definitely make me extra bitter and just hate everyone even more. Oh, I just remembered something worth mentioning. You may not believe me, I mean, I wouldn’t believe a single word coming from me, but I wasn’t actually going to hurt Grim. You though? Before I knew who you were? Yeah. Don’t get it twisted though, I was just doing it to fix everything until the whole truth got leaked not too long after.
Call me stupid, I guess. When I first saw how others revered you like how a bunch of creepy basement-dwellers look at a pretty perfect idol on a shiny bright stage, it was a major red flag. I wanted nothing to do with you. But when you started worming yourself into my life and I started getting attached, well, that made me a creep too for liking you. Red flags be damned. What can I say? Your presence even through Yuu, made me feel like I mattered, which is something I don’t experience a lot. 
You’d never know it, but I took risks just to be in the same room as your avatar. 
Missing special events on games, losing the chance to catch a concert live on screen, even ditching group calls with teammates and friends... All of that was utterly worthless if I got at least a solid sixty seconds by you. 
Unlike everyone else, I know better than to just show up at your doorstep and beg for forgiveness like some misguided puppy. Malleus and co. have been making sure you’re not disturbed, guarding you like a pack of guard dogs or something, preventing anyone from embarrassing themselves and messing up any further. Ortho said I should at least try to call you, I think he just wants to hear your voice. But why bother? 
Don’t get it wrong, I’m not just letting everything go just like that. As much as I’d like to, and I know it’s probably the “healthy” and “good” thing to do, I don’t want to. I’m not good, you know that already. I’ll keep in the background this time, and try not to mess up again. Although no guarantees, because with my lousy luck, I know something will inevitably go wrong. Don’t worry, I won’t bother you. I wouldn’t want to make the mental image you have of me in your mind even worse, if its even remotely possible for it to somehow get worse. I just can’t let go. Even if you looked at me like trash, avoided me like the plague, or straight up tell me ‘I hate you’ to my face, I still won’t let go. 
And, well, all I can really think of right now besides you, is Ortho. Even if I can’t show my disgraced presence to you anymore, I still hope you’ll see Ortho. At least if Ortho could explain to you that he was acting on my plan, he might get lucky and be next to you again. Maybe. Hard maybe. 
But me? No, I don’t ever deserve to be anywhere near you anymore. For now, I’ll go back to how things were way back... when your vessel hadn’t yet had the misfortune of meeting me and I just watched your every move from monitors like some sort of loser schmuck. 
I think I’ll just imagine how things would be if I hadn’t doomed all my chances. If I had a chance... maybe I would’ve actually worked up the gall to sit next to you, or even look at you, or, hell, talk to you. At least, I’ll always remember when you used your avatar to look at me and it didn’t feel bad... like, almost like you didn’t see me as some lame nobody. That must’ve been my mind just playing tricks on me though, right? There’s no way that happened... 
Enough of this mushy stuff though. I’m sick of it. 
Just throw this in the fire without a second glance. 
Idia Shroud 
In order to get this over as quickly as possible, you decided to continue without taking a breather. The quicker you finished reading them, the better, that way, you wouldn’t even give your mind any time to fully process what you were reading before overwhelming your vision with more lines and lines of words until they became blurred together. 
You wouldn’t stop, because if you stopped, that would be allowing your mind the opportunity to spiral out of control. You needed a distraction. 
This wasn’t exactly the good type of distraction either, it was more like adding gasoline to the fire, but part of you had to know what they would say. No matter what feelings you held, the curiosity outweighed it. 
The second letter is identical to the first, a simple long white envelope with no particularly interesting details about it other than the fact that it had zero stains and no wrinkles on it. It was pristine and clean, not even a drop of ink on it. The insides of the envelope itself were blue, with small white lines on it, but upon closer inspection it became obvious that they weren’t just stripes, they were skull symbols so tiny that it was hardly noticeable. 
Of course, as you expected, the letter inside was not handwritten. It was folded so precisely into thirds, and unfolding it displayed the typed and printed words neatly stacked in indented paragraphs. 
Greetings, Player, 
First, I want to apologize sincerely. 
Secondly, I want to tell you how much I have missed you, and my brother has missed you as well! I don’t believe I can fully comprehend how you are felling at the current moment, and I cannot even accurately guess to what emotions you are experiencing. In my attempt to alleviate the situation, I’ve been running millions of simulations of possible alternative futures in order to take the best route where things might return to a semblance of normalcy. 
Well, a new normal, now that you’re here! However... when each simulation yields a result, I can’t help but feel as if something is wrong. That’s when I realized there was a key component that was off. It was you, or rather, Yuu. We know of Yuu and their mannerisms and opinions, but that isn’t really you. Yuu is a vessel, and extension, that’s partially based off yourself. 
So none of us know the true you. At least, not yet! I’m hoping to change that. Just when I think I’m beginning to understand you, things like this happen. But, that’s what makes you so exciting! There’s always some unforeseen detail and amazing new aspect of yourself to learn about. Once I get a proper grasp on what you’re truly like, I can use that new knowledge to make you happy, just as you made me and my brother always smile!  But also, I want to use it to make it up to you. Honestly, I’m scared that you’ll hate me. In the simulations I ran that gave inaccurate results due to those missing components, nearly all the results had a bad ending... 
I don’t want that. I want to have a ‘normal’ way with you and Idia! A good normal! Like where we might all have movie nights in the Ignihyde dorm with freshly popped popcorn and candies as snacks, or study days when we read over notes and help each other out, maybe you might even be able to convince Idia to leave his room so we can all share lunch in the cafeteria like a group of friends would typically do! That’s what I want! I don’t think I could stand knowing I made you cry or was the cause of your pain. I never hurt you, right? At least not physically. 
Believe me, I had made attempts to meet you. But those in Diasomnia won’t allow it. I was tempted to charge up the technomantic beam installed within my form, but realizing it wasn’t necessary, I didn’t. Idia was right when he didn’t make an effort to even join me, and Malleus Draconia with his own have realized it too. You aren’t ready yet. Even if I’m more than prepared to see you, I can’t rush you. So, I left this letter in their hands, hoping it reached you. If not, there’s no worries. I’ve prepared a dozen more printed copies and if that fails, I’ve created a digital copy! 
Since I couldn’t tell you in person, I’ll tell you through paper... 
I’d like to invite you to formally meet me. I’m even prepared to surprise Idia with this! That’ll cheer him up for sure. You always made him happy, so us properly meeting you would be a dream come true for us both! 
If you’d like to do something upon meeting us, I’ve organized multiple activities for us to participate in. The other first years have reached out and expressed their own desires to make up for the mistakes they made. So, I met with them a few days ago to make plans you might enjoy! These plans are still in the preparation phase, so I can’t reveal them quite yet, but soon I will! 
Anyways, I just wanted to make you aware of this. And I want to say ‘I’m sorry’ even though it feels minuscule to what I’m only guessing must be the strong emotions you feel toward what occurred. But I wanted to let you know that I always want to be your friend, and I always will be, even if you don’t really like me anymore. Friends are supposed to be there for each other, right? So I’ll be there for you now. Remember, I’m a high-tech being, I can be of great use to you if you want! Even if you’d rather just use me as a tool, I would be happy. If you want someone obliterated to ashes or are just looking to answers as to what the weather might be, I would gladly help you with that and so much more! 
And it’s not only me that could be useful to you, my brother can too! Although he probably won’t say it, he depends on you a lot. You’re like a battery to him, you give him the energy he needs. If you’d let him, let us both, we’d be there for you in a zeptosecond! 
There’s one thing I know for certain. You’re the common variable needed for our happiness, no matter the scenario or result, you are a requirement. And I’m certain we can bring you happiness as well. Myself, my brother, and everyone that treasures you, can bring you joy if you allow it. All I want is to see you happy, and everyone else happy as well. So will you please at least consider seeing us again? Soon? Please? 
Hoping to see you soon. 
From your friend, 
Ortho Shroud  
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livingemkayde · 7 months
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en route
joel miller x f!reader (post outbreak) | 3.5k
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↳ warnings: this is rated for 18+ only! minors, please do not interact. smut, unprotected pinv, fingering f!recieving, light choking, dom!joel, a mild enemies to lovers mixed with sunshine!reader and grumpy!joel miller. no use of y/n. let me know if i forgot anything.
↳ a /n: hey guys...heres a little one shot in a followers/blog milestone celebratory fashion (!!!!!!!). this sort of turned into a one shot from the scrapped ideas regarding my new series. its also helping me gear up for taking on the task of beginning to write a new dynamic (i am definitely putting off completing chaser because i have an emotional attachment to that story BUT itll be out sometime this week). i love you all so, so, so much. you have no idea. thank you for everything (can you tell i live for a flashback fic).
if you would like to read more of mine: masterlist!
“You’re—” he quirks his brow at your attempts, “you’re an asshole, Joel,” you finalize.  He takes a step toward you. You take a step back.  “You’re rude. And inconsiderate—” he smirks, it makes you more mad, “—and snarky and a jerk for no reason.” Your back hits the hallway’s wall. He takes another experimental step towards you.  “Okay. Yeah, keep going,” Joel breathes out, encourages, like you're amusing. “What else am I?”
You can’t stand him. 
You really can’t stand him. Hate is a strong word. Maybe not one you use often. But the disdain you feel for Joel Miller hinges to the breaking point each time you run into him. 
What a fucking asshole — you finally willed yourself to believe after weeks of kindness. It was practically seeping from your skin but it seemed to brush off his worn leather winter coat onto the fresh powder. It died there, and so did your hopeless attempts. 
“Hi,” you breathed out, that first fateful time. It was a surprisingly clear winter night. He had just moved in. The women were fawning over him, ogling, jaws dropping in the town square. You just observed and tried to keep your face neutral. As neutral as you can be. 
But Joel stood in front of you and just grunted in response. 
It made you try harder. 
“I brought these — made these for you,” you said, extending a pack of sandwiches for him and the girl you happened to see by his side. You figured she was with him. You traded a hell of a lot to get the meat for the sandwiches. But kindness and new neighbors seemed to fare well. At least in your very limited experience. 
“What is this?” he questioned. He didn’t take them from your hands. His fingers—big and rough and calloused, picked at the skin of its own. He didn’t take a step outside the threshold. You were suddenly unwelcome. You felt the weight of the sandwiches grow tiresome in your outstretched arm. 
“Sandwiches. Thought I’d say hello since you’re new around here,” you smiled, sort of shaking the pack, here — fucking — just take them, jesus. 
But he didn’t, and your arm grew tired, and so did your smile. 
“‘M good, thanks,” he mumbled in response, and shut the door in your face. 
And yes, of course he was handsome. He was — rugged — and you can see the wired muscles stretch the cotton of his shirt on patrol sometimes. In those especially unfortunate circumstances where Tommy has the nerve to pair you two up together. 
Handsome, yes. With a hulking bounding step over snow, and menacing shadow when he towers over you. A southern drawl—something so pitch-deep and honey-like, something you’ve never heard before. Not until you met him. And you were nursing a stupid hopeless crush over a guy you hate, but not really. And that drove you insane. 
Because he was fucking, rude, yes. Definitely. 
But you lost it. That last time you saw him. Because what’s worse was he wasn’t even being Joel Miller, his usually brooding self. He was being — nice? Kind? Funny? Maybe. You weren’t sure. You couldn’t hear much over the piercing ringing in your ears. 
“You like this route, Joel?” you said, peering over your shoulder at him on horseback. 
You tried to keep it up, the kindness, the fucking — benefit of the doubt bullshit. You really did. He seemed keen on it sometimes more often than not. 
“‘S fine,” he replied back in a rumpled, annoyed way. 
“You gotta see my favorite part,” you say, almost to yourself, almost forgetting about his dark drawl, only thinking about the meadow half a mile from the checkpoint. 
 He just snorted at that. You just tried to keep a happy face on. 
The songbirds twinkled around in the surrounding trees. The winter snow was receding, making the small dribble of water a full stream. You followed it, straying slightly from the beaten path, earning a couple protesting growls from Joel, but you ignored his pleas, and surprisingly, he just followed you. 
You got off your horse. Joel followed suit. You trudged across a little bend of water. He let out a scoff sounding more like a complaint each time he let one echo in the silence of the forest. 
“C’mon,” you said, smiling, that time, a real smile. Maybe this would make him smile too. 
You reached the crest of the small hill, hiked up your sleeves over your elbows, and bent down to touch the soft petals of the flowers beneath you. 
“Look,” you said, sending him a sideways glance behind you. He was still clamoring to the top of the hill. 
“Yeah, alright,” he groveled. You ignored him. 
Joel joined you at your side, his chest puffing slightly out of your skewed peripheral vision. 
“‘S beautiful, isn’t it?” you said to no one in particular. He didn’t respond. You didn’t expect him to. 
You bend down, picking a strewn orange flower blossom from the floor. Something broken off with the wind. 
“This what you do all day? Pick flowers?” he mumbled.
“Maybe,” you grinned, maybe you were finally getting him to crack, too. “And what do you do all day?”
“Not this,” he said, shaking his head. 
“Really?” you said, “Enlighten me. What does Joel Miller do everyday?”
“Joel Miller minds his business,” he replied, snarky, but he smirked. 
It made you a little scared, you remember. Maybe you were under some sort of falsehood that made hating Joel Miller easy. So when he actually talks to you, teases, follows you through the meadow, it seems a little intimidating suddenly. 
It’s different. 
It’s fucking weird. 
“Which one’s your — favorite,” he whispered, gesturing out to the field in a vague sort of motion with open palms. 
“Lilies,” you replied, tense. You pointed down at a brighter purple lily plant to your right. Joel’s eyes followed your hand. 
You wouldn’t dare look at him, but you could feel him moving beside you. He was in front of you suddenly, his indomitable presence made you turn your head and look up at him through the sunlight. 
He lifted his hand, in line with your ear. Your head backed away from it instinctually, but you kept a keen gaze on his eyes. 
Your brows knit together. So did his. Your mouth parted, almost speaking into the soft mountain air. But he moved his hand again, closer to your face. And you saw a flash of something orange. Like the little flower you picked up. He brushed those big calloused fingertips on your cheek, and slipped the orange flower between hair atop your ear. 
You were so confused, you didn’t know what to say. But it was bad. He was risky. You tried not to think of the fact that maybe, if he wasn’t so fucking rude, and you didn’t hate him so much, maybe that small little schoolgirl crush would blossom into something bigger. 
Because that’s all it was. A small, fucking stupid crush. He teases you. Pulls at your hair. Shoves you off the monkeybars. You put on a kind face anyways. 
And you hate him for that. Decidedly. 
“We should go,” you whispered. He dropped his hand. You both rode back in silence. 
That put you in a horrible mood for the rest of the day. And when you went to sleep and woke up this morning still in a horrible mood, you know exactly why. 
Joel Miller doesn’t get to do this. He can’t make you hate him and then pull the rug out from underneath you. Especially not with something as low as putting a fucking flower behind your ear.
You show up at the patrol meeting in an equally sour mood. 
And maybe, yeah, you are being irrational. But at this moment you couldn't care less.
You find the assignment board for next week and see your name card slotted under Joels.
“Perfect,” you huff, already moving quickly out of the building, saving your usual chit chatting for another time. Maybe when you’re less pissed off. 
“Hey,” a voice calls after you and you know. You could pick that voice out of a hundred recordings. It pulls you back, and you fight hard to keep moving forward. You’re close to your house already so you continue walking. 
He calls your name this time. 
You don’t falter in your huffing steps. 
“Stop,” he says, grabbing at your arm, pulling you around towards him. When he sees your face, he hesitates. Though the air seems a little humid and sticky, you wrap your arms around yourself. A shield. 
“What, Joel?” 
“You—left,” he breathes out, looking down to your body slightly. It’s unnerving, him making you squirm. 
“Yes. I’m leaving,” you roll your eyes, turning around again, but he locks hard onto your arm and pulls you back to him. 
“What’s—” you shake out of his grip, “what’re you doin’?”
“I’m going home,” you say, and then under your breath, “Obviously.”
“What’d you say?” He's a bit defensive now, maybe falling back into old habits. Back when things were so perfectly hostile between you two. 
“I’m going home, Joel,” you say, annoyed. “Is that okay with you?”
He doesn’t say anything. His mouth parts in confusion. You start walking again, this time, he lets you, falling in time with your steps next to you. 
“Are you alright?” he says, almost worried now. Your footsteps fall faster as you see your mailbox sneak into view.
“I thought Joel Miller minded his business,” you grumble under your breath. But loud enough for him to hear. You know it. You reach your porch, stepping onto it. The morning dew springs to life from the vibrations of your rough boot. 
“So you’re gonna throw a tantrum?” he growls, following you up, reaching the first step, you, on the top one. 
“Real mature,” you say, turning around, hands on hips. 
“Right,” he nods and looks down to his feet, “Ignoring people is mature?” 
“‘M not!” you say, looking down at him, throwing your hands out at your sides, “You’re right here talking to me!”
“Yeah ‘n I had to chase you down the fuckin’ street,” he extends one arm towards the road. 
“No one asked you to,” you bite, the venom sneaking past your lips. 
He doesn’t even flinch. 
“You wanna play that?” he mumbles. An empty threat at best. You hope. 
“No,” you say. Tears are already in your eyes. “No, I don’t wanna — fucking — do this anymore, Joel,” you whisper while unlocking the door and walking inside. It doesn’t shut behind you, not all the way. And you hear his boots follow you in. 
“The hell is your problem?” his voice echoes. He follows you in your house, to the skinny hallway which leads to your room. 
You spin around, pushing at his chest with a pointed finger. 
“You are my fucking problem,” you affirm. 
You crane your neck to look up at him. His hair is pushed back, like he just got out of the shower before attending the patrol meeting. His chest puffs in time with your rapid heartbeat. 
He doesn’t leave. He doesn’t say anything. 
“You’re—” he quirks his brow at your attempts, “you’re an asshole, Joel,” you finalize. 
He takes a step toward you. You take a step back. 
“You’re rude. And inconsiderate—” he smirks, it makes you more mad, “—and snarky and a jerk for no reason.”
Your back hits the hallway’s wall. He takes another experimental step towards you. 
“Okay. Yeah, keep going,” Joel breathes out, encourages, like you're amusing. “What else am I?”
“You’re —” your breath accidentally catches in your throat. He places his palm on the cold wall next to your head, leaning down closer to you. He’s fucking intoxicating. You’re drunk off his lowbrow and the curls that form at the base of his neck. What you wouldn't give to run your fingers through them right now—
“C’mon,” he chastises. His mouth is so close to yours, you keep switching between his eyes and his lips. 
“You’re an asshole,” you mumble. 
“Yeah?” you nod. “You already said that, baby.” 
Baby.
“Don’t stop,” his lips get closer to yours, “What else?” 
“You’re…” you look at his lips. He gets so close that his chest brushes up against yours. “You’re mean…and you’re arrogant.” 
You find it in you to put your open palms gently on his chest. You don’t find it in you to push him back. It’s not like you want to push him back though, not when all you need is to bring him closer. His breath punches gently on top of your nose. 
“Can I tell you what I think?” he grumbles, you shudder. He snakes his head down to whisper in your ear. His beard brushes the delicate skin on your neck. 
“I think,” his lips brush over the spot right under your ear. You breathe so hard you might get light headed. “You’re a pain in my ass,” the hand on the wall catches on your waist. You squirm against his body.
“With your distractions, and your sandwiches, and your little flowers,” he’s so close, he’s almost kissing you. He slots his thigh between yours. 
“Shut up,” you say, because that’s all you can say right now. The dark hallway encases him in the shadows. Even when he picks his head back up and looks into your eyes. 
“Careful,” he warns. 
You stay there, silence filling the air. Your shoulder blades dig into the wall there. 
“You need to learn some manners,” he mumbles, shaking his head, looking down at your lips. 
“I have manners,” you breathe, admittedly a little shaky, “just not for — fucking —”
“Not for what?” He smirks. 
“Not for you,” you push against his chest again. He doesn’t flinch. 
“Yeah?” something in his tone makes you fight harder, “You gonna be a bad girl?” 
“Shut up,” you say, because you don’t trust yourself. You brace yourself against the wall in a desperate attempt not to whine. He’s making you slip. You silently chastise yourself. What happened to ‘Joel Miller doesn’t get to do this’?
You suppose all rational thought flies out the window when his roughed hands land on you. 
“You can be a bad girl,” he said, pushing his fingers under your shirt. They’re surprisingly warm. You fight the urge to groan. Your eyes flicker down to your bodies touching and drag them back to his eyes. “I’ll teach you how to be a good girl, too.”
“Fuck,” you whisper, half under your breath. Joel’s eyes dance with yours, flickering from your lips to your left eye, to your right. Your nose, your eyebrows. Then back down to your parted mouth. You’re fighting a losing battle, you both are. You had no chance of winning it. Not even in the slightest, not at all. And you both know it. 
So, fuck. 
You kiss him. You learn forward, as much as the space between you will allow, and kiss him. He smells like pinewood, and fresh soap, and something smokey. He almost tastes sweet. His fingers splay across your waist. You feel the tips of them dig in there. You fight the urge to groan when you shift on top of his thigh slotted between your legs. 
He hauls you into your bedroom, you sink down on the bed. He takes off his flannel. He’s slow, in his movements, almost like he’s teasing you.
Punishing you. 
“Joel,” you say. You hate how you sound so whiny, so desperate. But after all, maybe you are desperate for him. 
“Sit back,” is all he says, in that honeyed drawl. 
You do. 
Joel stands in front of your slightly open legs, playing with the hem of your shirt in his fingers. 
Contemplating. 
“You gonna be a good girl?” he mumbles, his eyebrows furrow. He doesn’t look at you, just raises your shirt up slightly. 
And you know what? You don’t have an explanation for it. But you just say it—
“Yes,” while looking up at him. The salt and pepper on his patchy beard. His hardened brow and quirked lip. His fingers drift from the hem of your shirt up, up, up. Until his thumb grazes your nipple and you moan at the feeling. 
“Open your mouth,” he murmurs, his thumb playing at your chin, your bottom lip. Your hands dig into the comforter at his words. Your bottom jaw slowly falls under the weight of his singular thumb. 
He pushes in, tugging your mouth open. You suck his finger obediently. 
“‘S good—baby,” he whispers so low under his breath you aren’t sure if you heard him correctly. 
You look up at him through your lashes, he pushes you back with his hand in your mouth until you’re laying flat on the bed. 
“Take off your clothes,” he says, pulling back his hand. While he shucks off his shirt, you undress frantically. 
You snap your legs shut when your panties are finally off. The cold air bites at your ankles. 
He nudges them apart until he’s slotted in between your open thighs. Your cunt stares back at him, glistening. 
He runs his hands along your frame, kneading at the skin on your thighs. His fingers, big and rough and calloused—but it feels fucking good. 
“Fuck—” you puff out, reaching for him, “I—”
He puts his finger up to his lips. Quiet. He says. 
You listen. 
“Just let me—” he says, drifting off when his fingers brush over your cunt. “Jesus—baby,” he mumbles, running his thumb through your slick. You moan and whine against his hand. 
“Joel,” you say again. Pleading. 
“I know,” he is all he says before twisting his hand and slipping a thick finger into your cunt. You gasp, grabbing at his shoulders and at the cotton beneath you. His free hand comes up near your neck, resting there. Not really doing anything.  
“You’re loud,” he points out, pumping out, adding a second because you’re so wet. You moan, gasp, whimper.
“’N you never fuckin’ listen.” he mumbles, looking at his fingers pumping out of you. 
“I do—” 
He shuts you up with a strong hand wrapping around your neck. Not enough pressure to really do anything, but enough pressure to cut your words short halfway garbled into an excuse. 
“Is that what you needed?” he groans, straining against his boxers, rutting up against your thigh. “Needed someone to tell you what to do?” 
You’re close. You moan. He thumbs at your clit. You nestle your face into the crook of his neck, whimpering into his ear. His hand finds yours, pinning it back to the gray cotton there. 
“You needed me, baby?” he drawls.
Just when you’re about to come, he stops. Your eyes widen, he’s breathing heavily, his fingers are statues deep inside you. 
“Joel—just, fucking—” you whine. He starts pulling his fingers out, receding away from you. “No—fuck, please, I—please,” you reach for him. 
He looks at you. You whimper. 
“I—fuck—I needed you,” you whisper. And you think to yourself that it’s true. “I need—you.”
His face goes soft. 
“Okay,” Joel breathes, pulling out, but reaching down to take himself out of his boxers. Your legs part silently. “Fuck, angel. Okay.” 
He guides himself through your folds, you squirm underneath him. He mumbles something into your ear but you can’t focus on anything besides he dull stretch when he pushes past your walls. He’s stretching you out already, just the tip. But the pain feels surprisingly good. 
“God, Joel,” you whine. He goes slow. Excruciatingly slow. 
“You—” he eases into you. He groans against your hair. “You’re — fuck.”
“Shit,” you curse out, he slips into you all the way, until his hips are flush with you. “Shit—you feel f-fucking good.”
He stays like that for a bit, letting you mold around him. He pants into your ear. You scratch designs into his back. Memorabilia for when he returns back to his house and gets a good look in the mirror. You grasp at the curls at the nape of his neck. They’re soft. Just like you thought they might’ve been. 
He pulls out—almost all the way. And then thrusts back in. You both gasp into each other’s mouths. 
“Goddamn — tight, fuck,” he says, finding a pace that elicites the most unintelligible moans from you and sets it. He’s rough—but not too rough. And he’s hitting that spot that inches you further to a pulling blinding light. 
“Good, fucking girl—” he moans, he holds himself up above you with a strong hand next to your head. “You’re doin’ so—fuck—so good, pretty girl.”
Maybe it’s the pretty girl. Or his praise, or his cock punching deep inside you, so deep that you can feel him in your fucking stomach, but you get closer. Tighter around him. He can feel it too. 
“Joel—gonna—ngh—” you whimper. He hikes your leg over his hip, hitting something deeper. 
“C’mon, angel,” he groans, “lemme — ah — lemme f-feel you.” 
He drags it out of you, your muscles pull taut and your vision pulls white and he keeps going through it all. You moan, whimper, maybe even yell. But he keeps up his relentless pace. You dig your fingers in his back, marking him with little crescents to go with all the rest of them. 
“Fuck—fuck,” he pants, his hips stuttering while you clench around him. 
He thrusts into you, one, two, three more times, your aftershocks sending towards his release. 
He lets out a broken groan spilling into you, rocking his hips with each pulse of his cock. “Shit,” he says, gripping your waist, “You — jesus, fuck.”
Joel collapses down next to you. He cleans you up, too. You both drift off to sleep. He kisses your forehead in between a floating, dreamless slumber. 
Somewhere between then and dinner he leaves, mumbling in your ear. You’re too tired to wake up and walk him to the door. And when you wake up, and make your way downstairs you spot it, sitting pretty on your front porch through the glass. 
A little makeshift bouquet, with fraying string wrapped around two stems.
Lilies.
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