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#it just haunted me for a long time to think that he might have put it online to mock me
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I have an angsty aventio idea that’s haunting me (also this one’s a lil dark, just a warning) imagine ratio at some point in the future telling aventurine that just because he’s been lucky so far, that doesn’t mean that his luck will *always* hold out, and tells him to stop putting so much faith into the fact that his luck never run out. And Aventurine, who is exhausted and having a bad day because otherwise he’d make a joke or just play it off, pulls out his gun again. And Ratio scoffs because they’ve already been through this, with Aventurine proving his luck by taking all but one bullet out. But to his shock, this time Aventurine only removes a single bullet. Before ratio can stop him, he spins the chamber and points it at his own head before pulling the trigger. Nothing happens. Then, without hesitating, he pulls the trigger once more, not even flinching as he stares Ratio directly in the eye. The gun jammed, and no bullets left the chamber. And aventurine tells him then, that he’s tested his luck like that more than once, always with the vague hope of getting to see his family again, but something like that happens every time. His luck genuinely prevents him from experiencing a *permanent* death before his time. And then he sees that this time, *Ratio* is the one that’s shaking, with genuine horror and fear in his eyes. (I just love the idea that aventurine is so ‘lucky’ that something will always stop his death, and I want Ratio to feel the gut wrenching fear of seeing aventurine fire a fully loaded gun at himself right in front of him. Ratio probably holds him close and tightly after that and refuses to let go for a long time)
My heart 😭😭😭 Ratio would be left so shaken up by this omg. Especially since his original demand obviously stemmed from his fear of losing Aventurine to his gambles! This is such an excellent concept and I love it!
Also, since my angst-addict brain somehow found a way to make it worse: Imagine an alternate scenario where Ratio understands what Aventurine is about to do and just cannot stand there and watch it happen, not when he could lose the one person he loves most. Panic overrides his mind and he tries to take the gun from Aventurine. In doing so, one of them accidentally pulls the trigger, but this time, the gun doesn't jam. Instead, the bullet hits Ratio. Horrified, Aventurine lets the gun fall to the floor and rushes to his side while the doctor's clothes start turning red with blood. The wound is not fatal, but still, it confronts Aventurine to the very thing that haunts him : the knowledge that his insane luck only protects him from harm, and not those he cares about. It would also force him to acknowledge just how attached he has gotten to Ratio, and he would be an absolute guilt-ridden wreck while waiting at his bedside after he got surgery, scared to death that he might not make it. Once Ratio wakes up, it's Aventurine who'd be the one unable to stop holding him.
Thanks so much for sharing this with me, this is such a great concept, I can already tell I'll be thinking about it for days!
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Nosferatu I.
Vampire Ruffilo x female reader
Nosferatu! Ruffilo, Nicholas is not necessarily very mentally stable, a bit obsessive too, and a perv, masturbation, voyeurism.
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I PUT MY SOUL IN THAT THING. I'm pretty sure I'm about to pass out. Seriously it took me days to proofread it because I'm weak and lazy and I thought I could just write gothic stuff like it was the XIXth century as if I was a native English speaker. Spoiler alert: turns out I cannot.
Anyway, there will be a second part but that second part is long as fuck and I didn't want to put everything in there because I'm not writing 10k words long chapters. So I'll have you waiting for the rest of the story. But here, take my fucked up stuff. It sucks, it's short, but it's here.
Where Noah is a young and arrogant vampire, Nicholas is more mature and full of remorse (and a total psycho).
Mama’s tag list:  @philomenie @gipsonnikki @circle-with-me @somewhere-diamond @malice-ov-mercy  @smokeynaomi @darkhallcorner  @loeytuan98  @sthnog  @cookiesupplier  @cncohshit  @lma1986  @skulliecadaver-blog @talialovesmiw @to-be-written @4rtificialfolio @arkiliastuff
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He used to be so gorgeous, him who used to profane the bed of many people of the fair sex. The type of man any woman's mind would go blank just by the sight of it. He used to be so gorgeous, tall, and talented. But now all that was left of him was a name.
Nosferatu. What a pathetic sobriquet.
What was the worth of his life now? What deserved a soul like his, doomed to damnation? Nothing. He deserved nothing, only the pity he could experience for himself. Those crooked fingers didn't merit to be seen, nor this monstrous face.
He used to be so gorgeous but now, now all he was reduced to was awful looks and a stupid nickname. He had lost all his greatness, all his presence for the sake of an immortality he no longer even wanted. He had dreamt of eternity, a forever life that would grant him power, money, love.
Love.
No love was left for him. No one stayed by his side after all these centuries. His body was perishing like a bird hiding to die. He was ageing in the worst kind of way. In an inhuman kind of way.
Sometimes he tried to remember what he used to look like but even then he couldn't see it anymore. All he could see in the mirror was the time that had passed and the lack of blood that destroyed him without ever letting him die. Sometimes he also told himself that he deserved it, that it was his sentence for being so greedy during his young years, thinking that he would pass eternity in the arms of simple women, women who would have been ready to give him their life. Oh, he could kill to live that again, he would die to live that again, just one last time. To feel the heat and the adoration from another someone.
And when he thought about that, he thought about her.
The first time he saw her, he wondered for a second if it was people like her who inhabited the Garden of Eden. People like her deserved to live in the heavens and were cursed to live in that hell of human life. He wondered that for a second, to not regret his appearance. To not regret the fact that he couldn't dare to approach her even if he wanted to. He would kill for her, die for her, even live for her. Live that miserable life if it meant spending eternity by her side.
Nicholas was consumed by her presence, his mind haunted by her image incessantly, day and night. Other women held no allure for him now; his thoughts were fixated solely on her. Yet, how could he dare approach her, she who was so pure, so holy, while he remained steeped in sin? She was beyond his reach, an angelic figure in a realm far removed from his own. Accustomed to the company of prostitutes, he could only hope that one day, amidst her divine radiance and devout Christian devotion, she might cast her eyes upon him.
As time passed, his longing intensified, driving him ever closer to her. The first time he spoke to her, she seemed unaffected by his gaze, as though she perceived him differently from others, as though she saw the man he was beneath his sinful exterior. If such were the case, he thanked the heavens for this unexpected mercy.
It seemed a miracle from above, an answer to his relentless prayers. How could it be possible? He feared her seeing him, hearing him, uncovering the darkness within his soul. But in her presence, surrounded by her saintly aura, perhaps he was not as rotten as he believed. Just as animals flee from their predators and dragonflies shun the shadows, he felt compelled to flee from her, lest his darkness tarnish her innocence.
"Pray for me, pray for the salvation of our souls, and I shall pray for you."
Perhaps he was not irredeemable, after all. Perhaps his perception of himself was skewed by his past sins, by the atrocities he had committed. He saw himself through his own tainted lens, blind to the possibility that she saw him differently, saw the goodness that still lingered within him.
In her presence, he began to see himself anew, to crave her with a fervour that surpassed all else. He longed for her touch, her gaze, her salvation. With any other, he would have succumbed to his basest instincts, sating his desires without remorse. But with her, he found himself captivated, entranced by her naïveté, her chastity.
She became his guiding light, his salvation in a world corrupted with darkness. Though their encounters remained chaste, devoid of lust or romance, he found himself drawn to her with an intensity that bordered on obsession. He cherished every moment spent in her presence, every fleeting glance, every whispered word.
However, she was too kind, too pure for him to pollute. He dared not cross the line, to stain her innocence with his immorality.
Until one fateful night, as he wandered through the rectory garden, drawn once more to her window. It was a simple gesture, a fleeting glance to ensure her safety, but it would change everything. As he peered into her room, illuminated by the soft glow of candlelight, he perceived her, naked.
In that moment, he realized that she was unlike any other, her beauty transcending the physical realm. He already knew she was so much more but his desire for her, once suppressed, now burned with an insatiable fire. He longed to feel her skin beneath his fingertips, to taste her essence upon his lips.
In the shadowed embrace of the night, she stood, an ethereal vision of delicate beauty, unaware of the storm brewing within the depths of Nicholas's soul. His vow echoed in the caverns of his mind like a cursed refrain, a promise forged in the crucible of his darkest desires. He had sworn that he would never defile her virtue with the stain of his lust. But, as she moved unknowingly, marked by purity, madness clawed at the fragile confines of his sanity.
Nicholas had known many a depravity in his timeless existence. Nicholas had sinned so much before. Sins that festered like an eyesore upon his immortal soul, but sins he bore with the weight of indifference. What use was there for remorse in the heart of one condemned to an eternity of solitude?
But now, as he stood in the cloak of night, his gaze fixed upon her, he felt a stirring of something long dormant within him. A flicker of care, of forbidden longing burning like a phantom flame. It was a torment he had not known before, a torment born of the realization that he cared, cared too much, and yet not enough to resist the call of his baser instincts.
In the hush of that nocturnal sanctuary, she moved to put her nightgown on, unaware of the predator lurking in the shadows. And as she dressed herself, Nicholas succumbed to the darkness of his fantasy.
With trembling hands, he unfastened is belt, allowing it to fall to the ground like a silent plea for absolution. A hand slipped beneath the fabric of his attire, a profane offering to the insatiable hunger gnawing at the last strands of his sanity. The moment hung suspended in time, a symphony of temptation and remorse warring for dominance within his fractured soul.
And then, as if in defiance of the heavens themselves, he bit down his lower lip, a desperate attempt to stifle the sinful moan of ecstasy threatening to spill forth from his lips.
With haste, his fingers passed through the band of his underwear as he only caressed his tip before stroking himself a little. There was nothing in the world that this Nicholas treasured more than sex, except for blood maybe. But god that woman was all he desired and the fact that she was far from his touch was killing him.
Yet, even if he tried to struggle against his sinful urges, groanings escaped him the moment he pressed his palm against his member. He observed her with a hunger that defied reason, his eyes tracing the delicate lines of her form as she tended to her hair with tender care. It was a simple gesture, devoid of any overt carnality, but it was enough to kindle a fire within him.
Nicholas found himself trapped in her gaze, a glance that pierced through the room. It was as if she possessed an otherworldly awareness, a subtle acknowledgement of his presence that sent shivers down his spine. His breath caught in his throat, a stifled gasp escaping his lips as he struggled to maintain composure.
In that fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still, suspended in the fragile balance between desire and restraint. His hand continued its desperate rhythm, betraying the turmoil raging within him. Even as his body yearned for her, Nicholas wanted to look at her, to observe her like he never did, in the vulnerability of the night.
She remained oblivious to his presence, lost in the mundane tasks of dressing herself, unaware of the tempest brewing just beyond her window. But for Nicholas, her every movement was a symphony of temptation, a call beckoning him ever closer to the edge of reason.
With each passing second, the boundaries of propriety blurred, giving way to a primal hunger that consumed him whole. He was a man possessed, shackled by the chains of his own desire, unable to resist the pull of her allure.
And as he stood there, bathed in the pale glow of the moon, Nicholas knew that he had ventured too far into the darkness, surrendering himself to a passion that could only lead to ruin. But, even in the depths of his despair, he found solace in the knowledge that for one brief moment, he had allowed himself to want her as he damned the consequences.
The more he touched himself the more he frowned his brows, slowing the movements of his fingers. He tried to calm his tempestuous breathing, tried not to come in his garment like a young one but it was an undying torture.
In the hushed sanctuary of her chamber, she moved with a delicate grace, her form, a silhouette against the flickering candlelight. Her slender arms swayed gently as she reached out, fingertips brushing against the handle of the candleholder, guiding it to its rightful place on the nightstand. The candle, cradled within her grasp, cast dancing shadows across the room. There was nothing more than innocence within her every movement.
But as she performed this simple act, Nicholas found himself trapped in a web of his thoughts. Though her actions spoke only of purity and grace, his mind betrayed him, wandering down forbidden pathways fraught with desire and longing.
His hand pressed on himself, he groaned again, his forehead covered in sweat betraying him. He couldn't handle anything anymore. He touched himself like she touched the light. And he whispered her name as he finished between his fingers.
She continued her ethereal motions through the room. Each step echoed softly against the ancient floorboards, a melancholic melody that stirred the very air around her. With a gentle sigh, she departed, leaving behind the confines of her sanctuary.
As she vanished into the shadows beyond, the weight of her absence hung heavy in the air, leaving Nicholas to wrestle with his unruly desires amidst the solitude of the rectory garden. Alone with his sins, he was left to confront the horrors of longing that raged within his heart. He was left to face the monstrosity he just committed.
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lovedianagrey · 2 days
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hello!!do you have skk fic recs?
Introduction
Yes, I do. I’m sorry it took so long to give you a reply, but I wanted to give you a comprehensive list and was busy preparing for my last day in high school, and then I got a job 12 hours later, and then I traveled to New York for a couple Broadway workshops. But now that today’s been dealt with, I have my wonderful notes.
So here’s the gist of it. I have three focused reviews on some of my favorite Soukoku fanfics ever, but I felt like copy pasting it would kill you a little, so I’m going to use a simplified format that echoes what I once did for two other ships years ago.
Canon Space
Here I compiled four fanfics that take place in main canon spaces (so not BEAST). While I encourage you to read, I also ask you to make sure to check the tags of the actual work for any possible triggers. Furthermore, the styles these characters are written in, and the way they are portrayed, vary from writer to writer. Some are more “canon” based than others, but they all carry the essence of this ship. And if they don’t in your eyes, then you’re just reading a great novel with Japanese names. 
i'll bleed out for you by StarshipDancer
Synopsis: After getting impaled together, basically dying in each others arms in a joint mission with the Port Mafia and the ADA, and getting brought back by Yosano, this shattered Soukoku is asked to go into hiding. In this time, things seem to start healing. But the impending call asking them to return to their positions in their groups haunts them, and when it arrives, things fall apart all over again.  
Tags: Caretaking, PTSD, A Singularly Important Rat Is Present, Canon-Divergence, Post-Port Mafia Days, Love Confession, Pet Co-Parenting, Angst
Word Count: 71,848
Notes: Rattata is the best character. You cannot negate AbsoluteNegation’s incredible skill. I remember reading this fanfic between the airport and my flight, and when chapter four ended, I had to board the plane, with my shaking hands and quiet sniffles. Please read this one.
If you kiss me (I might let it happen) by encsiimomo
Synopsis: Chuuya’s done watching this. Dazai’s literally dating a new girl every week. He dates based on who asks him first that Monday, he breaks up with them that Sunday, and it goes on again. And again. And again. It’s driving him insane. So he does the only thing he can think of to earn himself a break – He asks to date him for that week’s cycle. Dazai’s surprised. Chuuya’s exhausted. But once the sparks fly, they’re unable to be put out. 
Tags: Canon Divergent & Kind of Canon Compliant, Dark Era, Smut, Mutual Pining, Light Angst, Silly
Word Count: 52,127
Notes: I loved this fic because it encapsulates a pretty carefree tone that isn’t associated with Dark Era. It’s pretty smutty, but it’s really lovely to read them. It’s not a reflection of what these characters canonically represent. And while it definitely stays as a loose interpretation of these characters, it keeps the essence that makes this ship so sharp and wonderful. I loved Oda’s appearances too, they made me laugh.
A Doll's House by Abyss_In_WonderLand_likes_sexy_cannibals
Summary: After coming to contact with an ability-powered artifact, Dazai and Chuuya are forced to work together to overcome the ability’s trials, and face the bubbling sentiments they keep trying so hard to ignore. 
Tags: Teamwork, Ability Loss, Poisoning, Denial of Feelings, Confessions, Light Angst
Word Count: 45,288
Notes: While definitely not a character study, this fic goes and shows how wonderfully warm a Double Black fanfic can be. You’ll giggle in some moments, be entranced in others, and it’s just fun. This is for those that aren’t scouring for the angst. This was the first fic that sunk me into a skk fanfiction hunt all throughout the winter holidays.
On Deathless Feet by AbsoluteNegation
Synopsis: Chuuya always knows the monster can get out of control, but it doesn’t get any less surprising when Arahabaki powers through him. For a while though, it’d been comforting to know Dazai could always reign it in, make it go quiet. Because he did when they recently met, when they rose through the ranks, and at the brink of their end. But after years of disconnection, and the consistent waves of betrayal, is Chuuya capable of trusting him? And is Dazai capable of letting him?
Tags: Caretaking, Controlling Arahabaki, Port Mafia, Post-Port Mafia, Mistrust, Non-Linear Storytelling
Word Count: 71,848
Notes: This story is just breathtaking. The writing style is incredibly vast and detailed, which may seem scary when described, but it flows so easily when you read it. The story takes place in an event where Chuuya loses control of Arahabaki in a  Post-Port Mafia Soukoku time. But because of its non-linear style, one gets to understand their past experiences with each other in a manner that contextualizes and weighs in the events of their reunion. 
Fanon Spaces
Before I begin, I’d like to note that there are so many AUs in this fandom, that I had to really search for the canon ones in my list. So understand that if you want more of these, I DEFINITELY have more of these. Also, again, while I encourage you to read, I also ask you to make sure to check the tags of the actual work for any possible triggers. 
I’ll crown your inner child with laurel by acuteguwu
Synopsis: Chuuya has worked in a Michelin Star restaurant. So he really has no place in losing this cooking competition. But a sudden newcomer, who seemingly has no previous experience in the field, seems to want to tell him his bechamel sauce isn’t ready. And really, who does he think he is?
Tags: Chef Competition AU, Character Study, Slow Burn, Chuuya Is A Blunt Perfectionist, Dazai Is A Culinary Genius
Words: 197,090
Notes: I read this in two days, and I finished by waking up at four in the morning to finish up before going to a drag queen brunch. So really, my experience was incredible. You get to really know these characters, who are very themselves, and it’s lovely. Please read, it’s so worth it.
music for our funeral by itotypes
Synopsis: Dazai has always been lost on what exactly he wants to be. Chuuya knows exactly what he wants. Working with such incredible differences proves to be a difficult challenge, ending in at least a little bit of violence multiple times, but they make it work. Because their music sounds beautiful. Because they’re better geniuses beside the other. And maybe because once it started, they can’t seem to process this journey can ever end.
Tags: No Smut, Angst, 70s, Musicians!AU, Drug Abuse, References to Child Neglect, Lowkey Pretty Violent, Emotional Cheating (w/ Main Ship)
Word Count: 67,723
Notes: Look, there’s a whole genre of Soukoku music AUs. And I could tell you to read the famous “still, still, still” by icedlightroast, or the even more famous “I Was Screaming Your Name Through The Radio” by ElectricSplatter. Which really, they’re both INCREDIBLE fics that I think you should read (IWSYNTTR literally inspired me to try and write music, which led me to do an album for a school project, so I’m not kidding when I say they’re life changing), but I also know that these are famous fanfics that you can find in almost any big skk reader thread. So disregarding the following recommendation, I try to give you fanfics I found through a long scrolling process. 
Everything or Nothing by Wellthathappened (Cataclysmic_Calamity)
Synopsis: Chuuya has never been able to experience much. So when he meets Dazai on the night of orientation, he lets himself explore. And as lips sink into his, and he lets himself be free, Dazai lets him know how unimportant he is by walking away when kids walk in on them. Cut to a month later, they’re paired as roommates, Chuuya’s gotten what Dazai insists is a douchey boyfriend, and Dazai Osamu has to recognize it wasn’t true. It wasn’t a night’s fluke. He really, definitely isn’t straight.
Tags: College AU, Pinning, Chronic Illness, Creation & References Of Illegal Panini Rings,  Confessions, Miscommunication, Past Sexual Abuse, Bad Parenting, Cute Dates, Dazai’s Really Rich
Word Count: 264,937
Notes: I recognize I just put in my notes that there’s no major point in recommending these big fanfics, but I just read this because the person that introduced me into the fandom in the first place really loves this one. And it’s incredible. Worth every moment. I laughed a lot, and cried a lot. It’s those pieces of work that resound with you that keep you engaged. This one builds off of that.
Inseparable by milwritescausewhynot
Synopsis: Dazai and Chuuya have been joined to the hip since day one. But they’re not best friends. Or enemies. Or, worst of all, lovers. They are, however, great at pranking each other. Until one goes close to dangerous, and things begin getting complicated afterwards. 
Tags: High School AU, Pranks, Light Angst, Denial, Pining, Confessions, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Crazy Kouyou, Childhood Friends, No Smut
Word Count: 107,804
Notes: I hadn’t saved this one in my compilation, but I couldn’t not find it. This fic is so charming, and I most enjoy how the characters move through the story. Definitely recommend.
In Conclusion
Again, I’m sorry for such a late response. I’m literally falling asleep right now but I felt too guilty leaving this for tomorrow morning. If you have any questions, notes, or looking for something specific for your reading, we cna talk about it. 
Anyways, thanks for asking! Hope you love them, and sorry for any mistakes
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vamptastic · 2 months
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when i was a kid (10 or so) i was going grocery shopping with my family and freaked out and was refusing to go into the store. my dad reacted to this by trying to drag me out of the car and hit me in the parking lot. now that's not that bad (relatively speaking) but the part that really sticks with me is that some guy started recording it on his phone. i really hope he was just trying to collect evidence or something and didn't think me getting beaten was funny. honestly, probably says something about me that it took so long for me to even realize that he may have been recording for altruistic reasons and not because he was laughing at me.
#it just haunted me for a long time to think that he might have put it online to mock me#like id imagine people making fun of me saying what a spoiled horrible kid i was or whatever#in hindsight he was probably taking a video to call the cops and show them. But i wish i just hadn't been told about it#My mom said something to try to get my dad to stop but I wish I just didn't know. It really fucked with me#like when you're already being blamed for all your abuse it's very hard to not internalize that#and you just kind of assume that nobody is on your side bc obviously it's your fault for being a difficult child#and i WAS a difficult child lmao i had extreme mental problems and nobody knew how to handle them#but the fact remains that if you can't handle a child having sensory overload and meltdowns and panic attacks#you shouldn't have had children in the first place#i know this is therapy material and not Tumblr material but in my experience telling therapists about past abuse can be... a bad idea#Like for me it's bc i now get on okay with my parents. So they can assume I'm making it up or exaggerating and that hurts more than not#Saying anything at all. Bc they haven't been given the full picture. My last therapist was cool but this was when my dad was going to#Sessions with me and she had to be civil with him to get him to keep going. Which made me feel like she wasn't on my side and believed him#When he said it was my fault and he was having a reasonable reaction to stress or whatever.
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chuluoyi · 4 months
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LOVER'S QUARREL
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- fushiguro megumi x reader
“i can't do this anymore.” you and megumi are just too different; he's stoic, you're bubbly, he prefers solitude, you love being social. it starts with fights, words you don't mean, and ends with an event that would haunt him for a long time to come.
genre: angst, breaking up, post-breakup feelings, mentions and description of injury and blood, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end (you make up!)
note: dear god i’m finally getting this out of my drafts. loosely inspired by real life events i’ve seen around my friend’s relationship sooo it might hurt a bit 🤏🏻 but who can say no to angst to eventual fluff? tagging @lees-chaotic-brain and @kasumitenbaz (as per request in the ask!), you two are always here for my megumi works, thank you!! :3 and thank you for dropping by for the event!
a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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Everyone pointed it out as a joke, that you liked him way more than he did you.
And you used to never let it ruffle you. To you, Megumi’s sternness and silence meant that he was comfortable with you. You never wanted him to change his ways just because now you were seeing each other.
But when you thought it over now, as you stood before him with an aghast expression and knives stabbing your kind, soft heart, you couldn’t help but do a double-take.
You were the one who confessed first. Most of the time, you were the one who initiated dates. You always texted him first, asking about his day, and even when he brushed you off, you would keep being this ball of sunshine and wished him a good day.
You never realized it before… that through everything, it has always been you. Unfailingly.
So how dare he spout this now?
“I can't do this anymore.”
"You... can't?" you spat out, feeling the first tendrils of anger course through you. "What exactly it is that you can't do? What do you even mean?"
"Look," Megumi stared at you squarely, and you thought now, that it was the coldest of eyes, straight and true. "It's always been like this between us lately. It's only right that we end this."
This, he said. He didn't even want to define your relationship anymore.
You scoffed. "And why do you think we always end up this way? Have you ever considered, even once, that it's because you make no effort at all?"
"I'm trying," Megumi quickly replied, almost in a hiss, and you almost recoiled. "But I just see that we'll end up nowhere, that's why I'm bringing this up now."
Oh, that freaking hurts. You boyfriend had just told you that this relationship would go nowhere. Right in your face.
Your eyes stung with tears, yet you fought to hold them back, fixing your gaze on the lamp overhead and inhaling deeply.
"You're... selfish," you stated, filled with ire. "You're always walking around eggshells around me, never telling me what is it that you really want—"
Megumi's unclouded eyes fixed on your trembling form. "We just disagree on a lot of things. You know it and it bothers you. It bothers me too. Rather than forcing our relationship, I think it's better—"
"It's always me!" you yelled then, lips quivering and eyes watering, unable to hold your emotions back any longer. "All dates, lunches—everything!" you locked your eyes with him, in mocking disbelief. "How can you say you're trying when, in truth, I'm the one putting in so much for us?!"
In that very second, Megumi thought that he hated seeing you like this. You were supposed to be the cheerful one in this relationship, and when he agreed to go out with you, he made an unspoken commitment to himself that he would at least not make you miserable.
And yet...
"...I'm sorry."
Came his reply, and you were sure that this was it.
And to rub the salt in your wound, he added, "I can't lie to you and say I haven't thought this for a while too."
As tears welled within you, you wondered and questioned what you lacked that led to this. However, the overwhelming sense of betrayal consuming your thoughts ultimately prevailed over any other emotions.
Now he could've appeared before you as a stranger and you wouldn't bat an eye, as the cold steel in his tone said, "And if blaming me is what it takes to make you feel better, then so be it."
You couldn't pinpoint the source of your sudden boldness, but in the next hot minute, you marched past him, your shoulder harshly colliding with his in a deliberate, almost spiteful manner—which, indeed, was your intention—and then you ran.
Which led to the next scene: you found yourself bawling your eyes out in the girls' lavatory.
Yuji and Nobara saw everything unfolding right before their eyes. They hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but you and Megumi were literally breaking up right the middle of their shared classroom, and it was hard not to follow the discourse until the end.
"Are you okay?" Nobara had come to your side, ensuring privacy by locking the restroom door out of your consideration. You were a sobbing mess, attempting to wipe the overflowing tears away while letting out all your emotions.
"He's..." Your voice faltered amid sobs as you gazed at your steadfast friend, your throat clogging up. "He said... he's been wanting t-to... break up with m-me..."
"That's okay, that's okay..." Nobara brought you to her arms, patting your back in reassurance. "Fushiguro is insensitive like that... don't cry over him now. He's just a wimp, okay?"
"Why is it me?" you asked her, voice brittle, still shaking with tears. "I t-tried everything! Being the supportive girlfriend..."
"If he can't appreciate what you did, then the problem lies with him," your friend stated, traces of irritation brewing in her resolute gaze. And as she firmly grasped your wrist, her next words resonated. "Not you."
. . .
"Do you really have to break her heart like that?" Yuji fidgeted with his hoodie, staring at his best friend with a blend of confusion and sympathy.
Megumi sighed, finally ruffling his hair into a mess, as if expressing his own state of mind. “This is for the best.”
Yuji’s eyebrows visibly creased. “How is this ‘for the best’? She’s miserable, and you…” he assessed him, scanning him from head to toe, “it doesn’t seem you’re faring any better too.”
“The longer she is with me, the unhappier she will be.” Megumi glanced at the bathroom’s direction. “She can deserve better.”
He was always too quiet, too boring, not able to match your energy too. He couldn’t fault you for expecting more, whereas he was just not exactly built for your expectations.
Megumi really thought he wanted it to end. At one point, it even felt like a chore, but…
How strange. Why did it feel like something was clawing at his chest?
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Time heals. Megumi knew that by theory, but he really did see it firsthand when he saw you all giggling and happy again three weeks after he initiated the breakup.
With Hakari.
“Yo, what are you glaring at?” Panda asked, but Megumi didn’t pay him any mind.
An upperclassman, Hakari Kinji, was naturally cool and talented. He was laid back, knew how to have fun—all in all, a total opposite of Fushiguro Megumi altogether.
Three weeks. It’s only been three weeks since then.
“Megumi?”
Wait… Aren’t three weeks too fast to get over your ex?
“Megumi!”
“Huh?” he turned to the sentient panda with a jerk. “Oh, what is it?”
He looked at him with a concerned gaze. "Why do you look so scary? It's almost as if you're about to punch someone..."
But who was he to argue? He had no right to be upset now.
"Is it Kinji?" Panda gasped, finally putting two and two together when he followed his line of sight. "Oh Megumi... but you—"
"Just shut up, please," he blurted then, a hint of annoyance in his tone. With that, Panda didn't pursue it further, leaving him with his thoughts.
From where he was at the field, he could clearly see your radiant smile for Hakari. It was clear that the two of you shared a degree of friendship, but Megumi never knew that you two were that close.
...huh?
Why did the sight irritate him so suddenly? Why did his chest twinge again?
What a fool. You're the one driving her away, you idiot.
Suddenly these memories popped up one by one—
Of you suddenly hugging him from behind in an attempt to surprise him.
How he pressed his lips on the crown of your head when you fall asleep on his shoulder.
How you would give him that dopey smile when he pulled you close.
But on harder days after missions gone wrong, he’d ignore you altogether— the slight disappointment in your smile then. How your expression fell when he told you to go. How you slumped and looked back in hopes of him changing his mind.
“Haaaah.” Megumi turned away, unwilling to keep watching you any longer. Why? Why hadn’t it occurred to him before now?
Why did he long for you now? Why not before, when you were still his?
They were right. It seems people tend to desire what isn't meant for them.
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What could have been more painfully awkward than being sent into a mission with your ex-boyfriend?
You would kill Gojo for this. Or at least give him the lowest possible score in his teaching evaluation for the year. How could he? Your breakup was an infamous public spectacle, so this setup was undoubtedly intentional!
You were losing your head over this, and yet your ex-boyfriend...
"Keep your guard up," Megumi reminded curtly, in a warning tone. He looked as vigilant and straight as always, as if he wasn't even bothered.
You threw him a dirty look, offended. "You don't have to tell me twice."
This just cranked up the discomfort to an excruciating level. The mix of unresolved tension and memories—okay, you might be an emo, but how were you supposed to be cool with all of these hanging in the air?
Your site of exorcism was an abandoned warehouse, and the cursed spirit in question was supposed to be a grade 3. You two were grade 2 sorcerers now, so you were a perfect fit to exorcise it. But there was indeed this unease in the air that you couldn't put your finger to.
"Isn't it awfully too quiet?" you unwittingly muttered, staring at the darkness of the wall. You couldn't feel any cursed energy belonging to any possible malevolent entity, and that was what unsettled you the most.
Megumi frowned at your line of sight. "It is. Stay close."
You blinked at what he said, and before you knew it, the familiar scent of him being near to you made your entire body burst with this equally familiar warmth. When you looked up to him, seeing the solid sharpness in that dark eyes of his and his jaw set, dead butterflies in your chest rose back to life again, against your heartbreak and better judgement.
Stay close, he said... So he is worried...
And in an attempt to hide how flustered you were, you looked down.
You walked a few good steps, when suddenly he asked, "So, are you with Hakari-senpai now?"
"Huh?" You spun around, your expression a mix of surprise and confusion.
"You two seem close."
Seem close? Seem close... wait, so Megumi had noticed...?
Suddenly, you felt incited and it made you angry. "That's none of your business," your voice carried a sharp edge, hissing. And you knew you were being a bit mean by adding, "You broke up with me, so why do you even care?"
In that moment, Megumi could've sworn his chest throbbed. Your cutting tone pierced directly into his heart, lodging itself there.
You had all rights to be annoyed, and he knew that. Why did that question even slip out of him?
"Nah, nevermind," he mumbled in response, looking away.
Awkwardness lingered afterwards. You hated this, but no, you weren't above being petty. He had broken your heart and it still stung even now. If your intentionally biting words did to him even a fraction of what he made you feel, then you would find a small sense of satisfaction in it.
But you weren't able to ponder about your mess of feelings further when Megumi abruptly yanked your arm, his voice soaking with urgency, "It's here!"
Sure enough, the grotesque cursed spirit with the shape of a giant bee broke through the walls with a bang. The two of you immediately readied your fighting stance. Megumi was ready with his divine dogs, while you with your cursed weapon.
For a while, you engaged the cursed spirit with all you had. You were trying to focus on the enemy, but you couldn't help but notice the way Megumi always looked at you every few seconds, checking for any signs of injury or harm.
Frankly speaking, he trusted your strength and knew that you were a capable sorcerer. You had been paired in a mission before and he knew both your potential and shortcomings. It was just there was something about this place that had his senses on high alert.
And his fears were proven true when you yelped and were flung onto the grimy floor. "Y/N!"
"I'm fine!" you shouted in a rush, scrambling to your feet. However, as you spun towards him, your scream tore through the hall as you caught sight of the bee lurking behind him. "Megumi!"
He got distracted. The bee quickly latched onto him and almost stung him, until he wrestled it off and summoned Nue and exorcised it.
You went to his side that instant. "Are you okay?!"
"I am." But then he winced and almost fell on his knees if you didn't have a secure grip on him. He savored your touch and breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that now you two were safe.
"Megumi! Oh god!" Panic surged through you as you pulled him close. His side was bleeding, and you widened your eyes at the sight.
"I'm okay, I promise," he rasped, looking you in the eyes. "What abo—"
Then you saw it, the flicker from deep from that corner of platform, and suddenly, you grasped the source of the unease that had been lingering within you all this time. It wasn't the bee Megumi had just exorcised—
At that moment, there was no room for thought, one thing was certain: you didn't want him to get hurt more.
He didn't manage to finish his sentence when suddenly you pushed him away with so much force he never thought you had. Everything crashed so suddenly, he didn't have the time to brace himself or grab you with him, as another cursed bee appeared out of nowhere and—
Reality flashed before his eyes as he stared at you in sheer horror. At how the cursed spirit tore your body, sinking its hollow stinger in you.
You didn't really know what happened next. Everything was muffled—the frantic movements around you turned into a blur, along with Megumi's yells. Otherworldly pain coursed through your entire being and your ears rang, then everything in your line of sight became distorted and faded, along with your consciousness. Next and the last thing you knew was Megumi's battered face, a final imprint before you succumbed to the void.
Megumi had exorcised the remaining cursed spirit and staggered to his feet—falling a few times, but he made his way towards you through gritted teeth. You are hurt. He forced himself to get to you and pull you into his arms.
And suddenly, suddenly, nothing mattered anymore as overwhelming terror consumed him upon seeing you. Blood streamed from your abdomen so much that it made a continuous pool.
"You stupid—!" He choked out, voice hitching. You were no longer conscious and it devastated him even more. "Hey, hey? Wake up—hells—"
You, who did everything you could to save your relationship. You, who cried tears for him when he blatantly broke your heart. And you, who put himself first—and now facing the consequences.
It crashed upon him in that very second, the clarity. What was he thinking back then? He still loves you.
"If you die on me, I won't forgive you."
Megumi scooped you in his arms, pressing you close to his chest, the blood seeping from his wound be damned as he looked at your serene face. His heart shattered in the worst way possible and he almost wheezed at the sticky sensation of your blood—and how lifeless you felt in his grasp—but he willed it away.
"Don't," his broken rasp echoed the walls as he took each step to get both of you out of this hellhole. He winced and hissed at his own injury, chewing his lip in frustration, at how helpless he was.
"Don't leave me."
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It was like a distant, hazy memory.
Was it a memory though? No. It seemed far too real for that.
The throbbing headache pounding through your skull and shivers that wracked your body pulled you back to reality. There was a heavy pressure on your abdomen and any movement sent sharp pain shooting through you.
You gradually opened your eyes, squinting against the brightness. You were in a hospital gown, an IV was injected on your arm, and the sterile scent made your stomach twist, as nausea creeping through your guts. Your vision was still blurry as you tried to look around to find someone who waited for you. As you slowly turned your head to the side, you saw him, sitting in the chair right next your bed.
Megumi was sleeping in such uncomfortable position, his head resting on the edge of your bed. He appeared peaceful, almost childlike, devoid of his usual stoic demeanor.
Your heartstrings were tugged at this rare sight. He also sustained injuries and yet... he was waiting for you to wake up, here.
Your chest swelled with warmth, which was quickly followed by a sting of heartbreak. Still, you two broke up...
You jolted, and the inadvertent movement sent a wave of pain that seemed to paralyze your nerves, causing you to whimper. The noise woke Megumi from his slumber, as he shot his eyes open in alarm, catching your hand in his.
"Hey... Are you okay?" Megumi worriedly looked down at you with a visible frown, and the grimace of pain on your face, accompanied by trembling lips, was enough of an answer. He hastily scrambled out in slight panic, "I'll get Ieiri-san."
When Shoko came and got you the painkillers, your pain receded somewhat. Through it all, Megumi stood there, casting concerned glances in your way.
"Bedrest for the week," Shoko stated firmly, assessing your wound with a no-nonsense expression. "Your injury isn't minor—it's serious enough that you're strongly advised against excessive movement."
You could only nod in response. Megumi bowed. "Thank you, Ieiri-san." Once the doctor departed, silence settled over the room once more.
“Why did you do that?” he quietly asked then, referring to what you did for him. And when you turned to him, you saw it clearly.
He looked pale, and there was this haunted look in his eyes. It broke your heart a little.
"You were hurt." Your voice came out dry, and you realized firsthand just how parched you were. Seeing Megumi looking down never quite sat right with you. He was meant to be an unwavering presence, someone strong enough to sway your convictions.
However, a pang struck when he countered with stern eyes, "You didn't have to do that."
...he was right. You didn't have to. What he didn't know was that you were still holding on these stupid feelings, which drove you to shield him. It made you ponder: if your roles were reversed, would he not step in to protect you at all?
"Why are you here?" You weren't sure if the bitterness in your tone was evident, but you continued anyway. "You don't have to be here either."
"Don't have to?" His gaze bore disbelief, as if not believing your words. "I'm—"
"If it's because I saved you, Megumi—"
“Do not even think, even for a moment, that I won’t be concerned over you.” His voice, deep and hoarse, struck you to the core, silencing your words. “Never. I always, always want you to be safe.”
Your mind became a blank slate. Suddenly, all that mattered was his voice.
"Don't you realize how terrifying it was? Seeing you like that?" Megumi spat, his green eyes shining with intensity, teeth gritted and fists clenched. "How could you even think that I wouldn't be here—" his breath hitched, and then his lips trembled slightly, "—for you?"
You blinked quickly, a feeling stirred within you—stemming from that cursed, fragile heart of yours to be exact, evident from the rapid thumping in your chest.
You dumbly uttered, "But we are—"
"Oh, Goddamnit." Megumi cursed, and honestly you were taken aback. It wasn't really in him to swear, so this really bugged him. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, and despite the situation, your heart skipped a beat at the sight. Even a mess in a hospital gown, your ex-boyfriend was still undeniably attractive.
He stared at you squarely in the eye, unflinching, steadfast and true, the very image of Fushiguro Megumi you admired from afar and fell in love with in the first place half a year ago. "You don't have to... say anything, if you don't want to. Right now... just hear me out."
And the things he said next... all of them, you could say, caught you entirely off guard.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not trying hard enough, and—damn it, for making you sad. I never, ever wanted to see you that upset."
Megumi drew in a sharp breath, averting his gaze. "And for days, I've wondered if you and Hakari-senpai are now a thing... and you know what? I hate it so much. I know I have no grounds to feel this way, after what I did, but..."
And like a train wreck, his final words hit you hard. Tears welled up in your eyes in immediate response.
“I'm a loser, and a coward too, maybe,” he shrugged, a tinge of self-deprecation in his tone. “And I suck at telling people my feelings, but I love you. I still do.”
A sob slipped out of your throat and you hastily pulled the blanket over your face, much to his surprise. He thought he had worsened things, with the way you were turning away from him.
But then, from beneath the blanket, in a croaky voice, you proclaimed, "Fushiguro Megumi, you're a complete and utter idiot."
And Megumi didn't know that he had been holding back his breath as he chuckled heartily, relieved that you would still take his ass back after this prolonged mess. He knew he still had a lot to make up for and was determined to show it through his actions.
"Maybe I am, yeah."
"That's possibly the longest shit you have ever spouted in one breath."
"Yeah..."
But he got his chance back, and he knew that you would be alright. Both of you are.
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On one sunny day...
"Hey, are you alone?"
Megumi glanced up from his phone, only to be met with a random girl standing in front of him, batting her eyelashes with an ambiguous intent. He blinked at her curiously.
"No. Can I help you?"
The girl twirled her hair suggestively. "Ah, you see... I see you all in your lonesome and I think you're quite cute—"
The hell? Megumi frowned, and he was really about to give this bimbo a piece of his mind when—
Oh, oh. Forget that. Megumi's attention snapped to you on the opposite side of the crossroad. All pretty and dolled up with that crop tee and miniskirt he once mentioned would look great on you by a slip of tongue—that accidental comment earned him your teasing quips for weeks already.
"Sorry, I'm here for my girlfriend. Bye."
Abruptly dismissing the girl, he didn't catch how comically offended she was for being turned down in a span of 20 seconds. He took big strides towards you, as you crossed the street, and you immediately beamed when you caught the sight of his face.
"Megumi!"
Ah, this is going to be a good day, he thought. As he gazed at your pretty face, and caught your hand in his, clasping it tightly, reveling in your scent and the warmth of your presence beside him—
He was content, and once again it dawned on him, that he likes you so, so damn much.
"Let's get started on our date, shall we?"
6K notes · View notes
samsno1 · 4 months
Text
Celebrating
Dean Winchester x F!Reader
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hi, heres what i promised to the dean girls! i don't know what to say, this is long and i don't know if the smut is good enough, might edit later, also, dean in this red jacket is my favorite
Summary: It had been a while since you got some and at night of celebrating a successful hunt you expected to finally, after a long time, get laid
Warnings: SMUT, piv, unprotected sex (wrap it up), finger sucking, jealousy (? if you squint), oral f. recieving, fingering, dean is so in love ohmygod, english is not my first language, not proof read (if i forgot anything let me know)
Read it on AO3
WC: 4.7k
You can learn how to change Y/N for your actual name here
enjoy!
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It was difficult for you to find anyone willing to spend the night with you in the current settings of your life, having to lie about what you do, who you are…Basically create a whole new personality just to be able to bring someone to your motel room. In that sense, it was frustrating, both sexually and mentally to be put in this scenery but, either way, saving lives was more important than getting laid, even if you were thoroughly stressed beyond comparison by your inability to find a guy (or girl). 
You, Sam and Dean had gone to California for what you discovered, after great questioning and piles of research, was a simple salt ‘n burn of a poor ghost of a roadkill and was haunting that particular highway and crashing trucks of drivers who were mildly intoxicated behind the wheel.
After finding out where the bones were buried you went to the cemetery and started digging up the grave. Shovel after shovel of dirt fell behind you while you panted in exhaustion until you hit something hard at the bottom of the hole you dug up.
You harshly broke the wooden casket, revealing the remains of the ghost and a putrid smell hit your nose like everytime it happened when you had a salt ‘n burn. You scrunched up your nose and threw the shovel on the ground beside you, reaching with a hand towards Dean for him to help you get out of the hole.
“There it is.” You say proudly as you stare down at the decomposed body being covered with salt by Sam while Dean reaches for the alcohol in the bag and the lighter in his pocket.
You three watch as the bones light up in an orange fire, burning away what’s tying the poor soul to this world, the heat radiating in your skin. After some time you bump your shoulder with Dean’s, making him look at you.
“Let’s go, I need a shower so we can go out and celebrate” You say with a grin as you turn back to walk towards the Impala and Dean follows suit along with Sam, the fire slowly extinguishing itself behind you.
You opened the door to the backseat, the creaking of the hinges echoing through the night, getting inside and closing the door with a thud. Dean and Sam sat in their designed seats at the driver and shotgun, respectively, and you drove into the night towards the motel.  
“I saw a bar not far from where we are staying” Dean said and you hummed and Sam nodded. “You two might have to come back alone, you know” He suggested with a smirk and Sam scrunched his nose and let out an amused huff and you chuckled dryly, a weird nausea bubbling in your stomach.
Deep down you wished Dean could see you the way he sees the bartenders and strippers in bars or clubs you three often go to. You didn’t know if he thought you were too rough, too scarred, both mentally and physically. You usually dressed up nice, using makeup from time to time when you noticed your eyebags were getting darker or when your lips looked too pale. You also tried your best with clothing, well, the best someone could do when you were a hunter. Either way, you never looked like those girls, they were absolutely stunning, even for you, and you couldn’t compete with them.
You shook your head. You were probably thinking these things because it had been some time since you last got laid. Tonight was your night, you were feeling it, you were taking someone to your room.
Dean turned the car off after parking and you got out, going to the trunk to get your bag.
“You guys meet me in my room? I’ll most likely take longer to get ready” You said with a grin and the boys nodded. You took out the keys to your room and got in, throwing your bag over your bed and going to another bag you had in your room, where you kept your “fancy” clothes and makeup.
You took out a beautiful black dress with long sleeves that ended in your mid thighs. It was a dress you thrifted when you went on a hunt alone a while ago and never had the opportunity to use it. When you tried it on, though, it hugged your curves in all the right places, made your body look amazing and you felt as confident as one could feel.
You left the dress over the bed and rushed to the bathroom to take a shower, smiling to yourself. You took your time, washed your hair thoroughly and finished it off in the usual way. In the hunting life you often get your hair very dirty almost everyday with blood, dirt, ectoplasm…you name it. So, keeping it lucious and healthy was a process that you grew fond of doing to recollect some of that normalcy that hunting didn’t give you.
You came out of the shower with a towel wrapped around your body and picked up an underwear set that was, well, sensual to say the least and dropped the towel to the ground to put it on, the dress going over it, careful not to mess up your hair in the process.
You looked at yourself in the mirror and whistled in surprise at your own appearance, you looked good. Time for makeup.
You didn’t do much, a simple concealer, contour and blush with mascara and a smokey eye was enough to drop any man to the ground.
You decided to put shoes on because, first, if you really had to walk back, heels weren’t helpful, second, you didn’t have your heels with you at the moment.
While you were finishing up you heard a knock on your door. You opened it and there they were, Sam and Dean, practically on the same looks, just cleaner, waiting for you.
They both eyed you up and down, drinking your appearance in, Dean dropping his jaw slightly as he stared at your exposed thighs. Sam let out an impressed sigh and cleared his throat.
“Wow Y/N you look…amazing” He said and you smiled, looking down, feeling a tad bit embarrassed.
“Yeah…” Dean agrees, half on earth, half in his head trying to get rid of the thoughts of those beautiful legs wrapped around his neck while his nose deep into your–
“Well, thank you, I hope it isn’t too much.” You said.
“No, n–no, ha, it’s not, at all,” Dean said to quickly, finally grasping the courage to look into your eyes, the beautiful colors drowning him and your shy smile making him want to smash his lips to yours that moment. He cleared his throat. “Shall we go?” He offered.
“Yes, let me just get my phone” You said and went inside for a couple seconds, coming out with it and your wallet. “C’mon!”
You passed through them and went towards the car. Sam elbowed Dean to make him turn to him.
“You are staring at her like she’s a cheeseburger and you haven’t eaten in days, man” Sam teased and Dean frowned at him “You were practically drooling”
“I–I was not, okay? She just looks…pretty, that's all” Dean said, ignoring Sam’s ‘Yeah, right’ and going to the driver's seat in the Impala, you already sat down in the backseat. After Sam got in you all went to the bar and you felt particularly excited this time.
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“Okay, every single one who tried to flirt with me was a disaster” You said, coming back to the table with a sigh, Sam and Dean almost laughing at you as you handed them their beers. “Seriously, who do I have to kill to get laid in this shit”
You took a swig of your beer and looked around once more, trying to find a decent man for you to take back tonight when you eyed a handsome black haired guy a few feet away. You smiled to yourself and got up from your seat.
When you walked up to him you didn’t see it but Dean was fuming with jealousy, this feeling bubbling up inside him that made his fists unconsciously clench over the table. He tried flirting with other women that night, chatting them up like he usually did but it all went down the drain the moment his eyes darted to you again, a guy practically snuggling up to you while you gently pushed him away and refused his advances, either not finding him attractive or just not feeling a spark.
He should be the one you looked at, he knew everything about you, how you liked your coffee, your favorite drinks, the faint lines that would appear around your lips when you smiled, the way your eyes lit up when you were talking about something you enjoyed. He knows you.
Sam noticed his brother’s demeanor and called out to him to snap him out of his jealous haze. Dean turned his eyes to Sam and he had this stupid smirk on his face, sipping the beer once again to hide his amused smile.
“What?” Dean snapped, his hand wrapping around the bottle, the cool glass doing nothing to ease his temper down, his knee going up and down under the table with nervousness.
“Nothin’” Sam answered and finished his beer, getting up and leaving a couple dollars, enough to pay for the beers he drank. “I’m going back, y’know, tired. Tell Y/N”
Dean nodded, he didn’t know if Sam meant for him to tell you that Sam went back or that you’ve been in his dreams for months now, not all of them cute and fluffy, some made him wake up with a hard-on, sweating and longing for you.
He looked in your direction and you were coming back with an annoyed face, arms crossed in front of you, feet stomping the ground. Dean made a confused face and when you got back to the table you sat down on the chair with a scoff, his eyes never leaving you.
“He has a girlfriend” You murmured and then realized you were one man short “Where’s Sam?”
“He called in, tired” Dean said and you hummed. He had a weird look on his face, something you couldn’t make out what was. You sighed and looked down.
“I think we should go too, this night was disappointing to me” You breathed out a laugh “I’m impressed you didn’t find anyone, I saw some girls eyeing you”
“Nah, I’m fine,” He said and finished his beer. You widened your eyes at him but didn’t say anything, just nodding hesitantly in shock. “Let 's go?”
He said getting up and you mirrored him, pulling your dress down a bit, Dean’s eyes on you all the time. He bit his lower lip and mentally told himself to cool it.
As you two walked towards the car you couldn’t help but look at him up and down, silently appreciating his figure. His strong jawline, his green eyes now dark thanks to the night, his slightly crooked nose that made him look unique.
When you got into the car, in silence, you drove back to the motel and you felt an unmistakable tension in the air and you were worried you might’ve done something to upset the man. You started to fidget with your fingers over your lap, the street lights going past the car through the window as Dean sped up through the pavement.
His hands gripped the wheel, holding back the urge to pounce on you right there and then. When he parked the car and reached for the door handle you held his wrist.
“Wait! Dean, is something the matter?” You asked, big eyes looking into his as he looked at you, noticing the trouble behind those beautiful orbs. He wanted to punch himself in the gut for making you feel bad. “What happened?”
“Nothing it’s just…” He trailed off and looked at your hand wrapping his wrist. His other hand enveloped over it and your skin flared up with goosebumps. He felt warm, rough, his strong grip comforting. You took your hand away from his wrist, allowing his hand to wrap over your and pull you into him.
You yelped and was about to question him when you felt his plump lips against yours, his other hand hesitantly holding your cheek and you melted. It took you a while to process what was happening. Dean Winchester is kissing you. Though, when you did, your free hand went to the back of his neck to deepen the kiss.
Everything felt like a fever dream and you were afraid that if you pulled away you’d wake up and Dean would be gone. His lips had a taste of beer lingering from the night out, they were full and smooth. You felt like you were drowning in this feeling until Dean pulled away, seeking a breath of air.
You looked between his eyes, your breaths molding into each other from the closeness. You moved the hand he was holding up his chest, to his shoulder, up to his cheek, his eyes closing and his head snuggling against your hand, his fingers fidgeting around your wrist.
He opened his eyes, a thousand feelings swimming behind his green orbs as you both communicate in silence, an agreement, a revelation. You smiled and pulled him in again, this time with no hesitation. His hand went down your arm slowly, your skin warming up where his hand passed by, and settled by your waist, pulling you closer. His tongue teased your bottom lip and you eagerly opened your mouth with a low moan.
At that, he smirked into the kiss and pulled you over his lap, the steering wheel digging into your back, his hands both placed at your hips as you unconsciously rocked against him. He let go of your mouth again and you stared down at him.
“I wanted to do this so bad” He whispered and you smiled, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck mindlessly. He placed a loving kiss at your jaw and pulled away again while you hummed, content.
When you looked at his face again there was a frown and he was avoiding your eyes. You grabbed both his cheeks and made him look at you.
“What was that thought, hm?” You ask lightly as to not push him away. You didn’t want this to end, not ever. He seemed nervous.
“What does this mean to you?” He asked and you furrowed your eyebrows. “To me, Y/N,” he continued, his hands rubbing up and down your thighs “you’re everything, I mean, you– you’re perfect. You’ve seen everything I’ve done and never let me down, you’re beautiful and so much more. If to you I’m just a way to get off then–”
You cut him off with a peck on his lips.
“Stop. Right there.” You started, looking deep into his eyes. “Dean I– you are everything I’ve ever wanted, needed. You mean more to me than words can describe, you’re not just a one night stand, you’re my dream”
When you finished, he didn’t waste a second to wrap a hand behind your neck and steal your lips again, his mouth addicting. There was so much passion, feeling and desire pumping through your veins.
Your dress was high on your thighs and one of his hands squeezed the flesh hungrily, making you groan in his mouth. He went further with his hand, his thumb caressing over your covered sex and you opened your mouth in a whimper.
Dean attacked your neck with kisses and hickeys, his teeth leaving a pattern over your skin as his hand ghosts over where you need him the most.
“Dean…” You say, a beg behind your words and he pulls away, both his hand and his mouth, making you shiver from the lack of contact and the cool feeling his saliva left behind over your neck.
“Sweetheart, as much as I’d like to have you in the car,” He said, his voice rough and deeper with lust, his pupils wide as he opened the door, a cool breeze coming in that did little to nothing to cool your skin off. “you deserve a bed, another time” He finished, leaving an open mouthed kiss under your ear.
Another time. You nodded, words failing you as you stepped out of the car, adjusting your dress and hair the best you could to seem decent. Dean stood up behind you and let a hand linger on your waist, eager to touch you at all times and all ways.
You both walked towards the door of your room, Dean’s fingers tightening on your skin the longer it took for you to get the door open. The moment you were able to open it, he pushed both of you in, turning you around and pinning you to the door inside, closing it with a loud noise behind your back and his lips were on your again, his hands roaming over every inch of your skin.
You yelped in shock but soon reciprocated the touches and kisses, your fingers wrapping around his jacket and pulling it off, his hands momentarily leaving you to drop it to the ground. When his hands came back he grabbed both your legs and lifted you, forcing you to wrap your legs around his hips for support, his fingers digging into your skin yet again.
Your hands pulled on his hair, your tongues battling in a messy kiss when you feel your body move to the bed, your body being gently placed over it.
Dean pulled away, standing up fully and you took him in with a bite of your lip. He unbuttoned his flannel, slowly and you lifted your dress over your hips, lifting them off the bed to help, revealing your panties and over your head to take it off completely and throwing the fabric away.
Dean’s breathing got heavier, the confine of his pants bothering him as he finally discards the flannel, torso naked to you. You drink his defined physique with hooded eyes and he smirks down at you, his head going close to the waistband of your panties, eyes never leaving yours as he leaves kisses from your hips to your stomach to the valley of your breasts until he came face to face with you again, a smile lingering in his lips making one of your own appear on yours.
Your hands grab at his cheeks and pull him in again as he holds you by your waist, pulling your near naked torso into his. His fingers ghost over every inch of new exposed skin as if he was memorizing every atom of your being like you were going to disappear.
Your hands start to explore over his chest, the strong muscles flexing against your palms, your nails scratching at his wide back and shoulders.
His hands travel behind your back to unclasp your bra and you let him, letting the undergarment go loose against your breasts and Dean takes it off. He drinks the view in, staring and you start to feel self-conscious and take your hands to cover yourself up. Dean catches onto that and kisses you again, one big hand grabbing at your right breast and you whimper in his mouth.
“I always knew you were beautiful” He whispers against your lips and pulls back to look at you again “But you are the most perfect thing I’ve ever laid eyes on”
This time you turned away from him with a stupid smile on your face.
“Says you” You say and turn to him again, your hands over his shoulders and moving towards his back “Your back is a perfect place for my nails to dig in” You whisper seductively on his ear and leave a hickey on his neck. He groans and lowers his head to wrap his mouth around one of your nipples, the warm feeling against the sensitive nub making you arch your back into him and your fingers to tangle in his hair.
“Dean, fuck–” You moan as he gently bites your nipple and moves to the other breast, his eyes looking at you from below and drinking in your noises.
One of his hands sneaked up your inner thigh and teased your clit over your panties and you shivered, a smirk on his lips against your breast. He slowly took your panties off, discarding them on the ground and now you were completely bare below him, vulnerable.
His middle finger pressed over your clit and you arched again.
“Dean, please…” You beg, your best attempt at puppy dog eyes looking down at him and he adds his ring finger, starting to do slow circles over the sensitive nub as he kisses up your neck, your noises of pleasure egging him on.
He lowers his fingers to your entrance and he slips both in with no restraint given your wetness, the feeling making you let out a moan and grab onto his shoulders as he hooks his fingers inside you, touching that special spot.
He smirks smugly and continues his ministrations, your pussy clenching and tightening around his fingers making him groan.
“You’re so wet” He mumbles “I wonder how you taste like” He gives your nose a peck, your mind too drowned in pleasure to respond to his words. He kisses down your body, his fingers never leaving you, until he's facing your cunt. He places both your legs over his shoulders, your thighs resting around his cheeks, the light stubble leaving a tingly feeling behind.
He leaves a lingering kiss over your clit and you buck your hips, looking for more friction. He teases a bit more, biting and sucking at your inner thighs, everywhere but where you needed his mouth to be. You took charge and grabbed at his hair, pulling his face closer and he complied.
“Oh, fuck!” You groan.
His tongue licked at your sex and your loud moans echoed through the walls, the warm muscle doing wonders against you and the mix of his fingers bringing you closer and closer to the edge, your eyes fluttering close in bliss.
“Dean, God” You moan as he squeezes your thigh. All the ministrations send shivers down your spine, your core tightening inside you, that familiar rush of warmth spreading through you. Your thighs try to close, forgetting Dean’s in between and he hums against your cunt, the vibrations making you feel like you were in heaven. “I’m cumming”
“Cum for me princess” He mumbles and you let go with a chant of his name. The feeling washes over you, making you feel lighter for a couple seconds, Dean helping you ride out your orgasm. When the stimulation becomes too much and you whine and squirm away, he gets up from his knees, chin glistening in your juices. He took his fingers out, a grunt scaping your throat at the emptiness. It was a sinful sight.
He crawled over you again, his middle and index finger teasing at your bottom lip.
“Open up” He said, voice deep and demanding and you obeyed, opening your mouth and letting his fingers in. You lick your juices clean off his fingers, never breaking eye contact, humming and moaning against his digits as Dean bites his lips with force. Your hand travels down to unbuckle his belt and he takes his fingers away from your mouth to kiss you.
Once you got the belt open, Dean backed away, taking his shoes off and unzipping his pants. Meanwhile, you drank in his appearance. His hair was a mess, a thin sheen of sweat covering his skin, his arms flexing as he lowered his pants along with his boxers. He was divine.
When he dropped the jeans his eyes drifted back to you, catching you staring and he smirks.
“See something you like?” He asks, closing the gap between you again, smashing your lips to his in yet another breathtaking kiss.
He completely lies you down on the mattress, his elbows supporting his weight over you as his cock bumps against your sensitive sex and you gasp, hand gripping the back of his neck.
“Fuck me” You say, bluntly and whiny but he gets the hint and aligns his member to your hole.
“Yes Ma’am” He says and starts to insert himself inside you, an immediate groan coming out of both your throats, his forehead dropping to the nape of your neck as his fingers dug into your hips, holding himself back to not slam into you at full force. You felt amazing around him, the warmth of your walls made him never want to go away.
“Oh my God” You moan as he slowly goes deeper, his cock throbbing inside you. Once he bottomed out you were breathing heavier than ever, pupils blown and nails teasing at his back. “Dean” 
“I’m right here sweetheart” He reassured you and left kisses over your shoulder to distract you. You grinned at his sweetness and rolled your hips against his, a sign that he could move.
“Move, please, I want to feel you” You mumbled and he obliged, instant pleasure going through your body.
“God, Y/N” He moaned close to your ear as he went faster, your moans getting louder.
He smashed his hips against yours, eyeing the way it went in and out, being deliciously consumed by your cunt, glistening with your slick and cum. He stared at you, your fucked out state, the way you were a moaning, whimpering mess beneath him and he felt proud to be the reason you were like this.
You felt every inch ripping your insides, Dean’s hands roaming through your body as his lips left bite marks and kisses around your skin. His lips wrapped around your nipple and everything just added more to the pleasure when his tongue circled around your nipple.
“You’re so pretty” He groaned after pulling away from your breasts and felt that familiar feeling go through him as your pussy clenched tighter around his cock. He was close and he knew you were too. His hands traveled both down to your lower body, one pressed over the skin under your belly button and the other circled your clit messly.
When he pressed down over your lower belly you felt him impossibly deeper and grabbed at the sheets underneath you to ground yourself to reality.
“Jesus– Fuck Dean, please!” You moaned incoherently as that bubble inside you was about to pop “I’m gonna cum, baby, please” You moaned again and you knew he was close to, his hips stuttering and losing rhythm.
“Cum with me Y/N” He said and not even seconds later you unraveled beneath him, your high hitting you like a bus, a loud moan rippling through your throat and Dean pulled out, cumming over your stomach, his chest heaving with his breaths.
Dean forced himself to get up and get a wet towel to clean you up in the bathroom, coming back and gently wiping away the fluids. You were spent and at the same time as happy as you could ever be.
You adjusted yourself in the bed while you waited for Dean to come back from the bathroom after discarding the towel, his naked shadow visible thanks to the light inside. When he walked out he smiled at you and snuggled beside you, tucking your head under his chin and wrapping an arm around your waist.
You were both silent for a while until he spoke up. 
“I love you so much” He said “And no, this is not post sex haze, I’ve loved you for so long” He admitted quietly above you and you felt your heart beating ten times faster at his words. You looked up at him and placed a gentle hand over his cheek to make him look down at you.
“I love you too, dumbass” You say with a chuckle and kiss him deeply again, pouring all the love you knew you felt towards him into the kiss.
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A/N: Notes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing, feedback makes those writings better. Thank you for reading, Xoxo.
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a-hazbin-reader · 3 months
Note
how about a reader who's been feeling pretty overworked recently?and just needs to rest but is to stubborn to Al does something about it?
Now it's Alastor's turn to pamper~
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: None I think??
Description: ☝️⬆️
You've been going nonstop all week and it's been taking it's toll on you physically and mentally
There's so much that needs done and you're only one person, you don't have time to sit and relax
Which means you're unintentionally taking time with you away from Alastor
Not his ears drooping and folding back when he realizes you're going to turn him down
"I'm so sorry, Alastor, I'm just too tired to go out and I really need to finish this."
"Y/N, it's our date night and I insist that you-"
"I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you later, I promise."
But you pass out and Alastor has to carry you to bed, hating that you're so overworked right now, that you have no time to spare for him
Which in his deer brain, means that you're neglecting him because you're so fried from work
And that means he's gotta fix this
But you're stubbon and won't relax willingly so he's got to get creative
"Darling, won't you take this bubble bath with me? I need help getting my back~"
🥵🥵 s-sure
He takes special care to massage and scrub every part of you until you're a gooey mess in his hands
Despite his claws, he can be surprisingly gentle, it's rather soothing to feel them ghosting over your skin
It's not until later when your back is against his chest and he's kissing your shoulder that you realize he's been spoiling you the entire time
Literally carries you to bed bridal style and dries your body with a loving reverence that makes you blush
"Alastor, I can do this myself-"
"Hush now, let me do this for you..."
Rubs fancy lotions and creams into your skin, massaging until you inevitably fall asleep under his care
Nobody is allowed to wake you or bother you at all for the time being, he'll make sure of it
He finds excuses to interrupt you during your work, forcing you to take breaks
"Darling, I accidentally made too much jambalaya! So I thought I might bring you some as I am quite sure you haven't eaten today~"
"Alastor, I don't have time to-that smells really good..."
It's so good you could cry, devouring the entire thing while he stays and has lunch with you, turning it into a mini date
You didn't even realize how tense were before Alastor showed up, feeling full and relaxed after he gives you a parting kiss
You really don't want him to go, watching him leave with a longing expression
Not him purposefully stealing something you need so that you have no choice but to seek him out
"Have you seen my folder? I can't get back to work without it!"
"Hm? I can't say that I have, but have you seen what a beautiful day it is outside? Why not just skip work today, and we'll take a stroll through Cannibal Town?"
Won't take no for an answer, already looping his arm with yours and marching you outside
It is actually a beautiful day outside
Takes you to all your old haunts and spends all day buying anything you even look at
It feels good to catch up with Rosie and some of your old friends, not having realized how long it's been since you've seen them
He also takes you out dancing, which leaves you tired and sore, but in the best way possible, he was always exciting to dance with
Will carry you home if he has to, will actually find an excuse to do so
"Do your feet hurt? Here, let me carry you~"
You pass out before he puts the blanket over you, soothed by his scent on your pillow
It's not until later when you wake up to him putting your folder back in your bag that you realize what he's been up to
"Alastor..?"
Oh fuck he's been caught
"Darling! I was just-cleaning off your bag and-"
"...just shut up and come back to bed..."
Literally climbs right on top of you and flops on you like he's your own personal weighted blanket
Kissing your neck and shoulders before whispering into your ear with a slightly guilty voice
"Are you angry with me?"
"Mm...not if you keep giving me attention like this..."
Well, he wouldn't want his darling Y/N to start getting angry with him now, would he?
The next day you feel more renewed and refreshed than you have in weeks, waking up tangled in Alastor's arms
You chuckle softly and push some of his hair out of his (totally not pretending) sleeping face, admiring his handsome features
He's a sneaky man who tricks you into relaxing and taking time for yourself because he loves you
And you love him all the more for it
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This one was too cute! I hope you like it
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sunny44 · 8 months
Text
Marriage
Pairing: Max Verstappen x ex fiancée!reader Mason Mount x Fiancée!reader
Warnings: anxiety and fights
Summary: Max leaves his fiancée y/n at the altar on their wedding day but after years of regretting what he did, by a miracle of fate (or Lando) she appears in his life again.
Next Chapter
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My heart was racing as I stood at the altar, the cold sweat in the palm of my hands clashing with my racing thoughts.
The guests' whispers and expectant waiting for me to say yes, but I couldn't move.
Y/N, she deserved better than the mess I had made of things.
Just minutes before, I’ve been grappling with the weight of commitment.
Doubts, fears, and a paralyzing realization that I might not be ready had torn into me. In a painful instant, I’ve had made a gut-wrenching decision: to leave Y/N standing alone.
I could hear everyone's reactions as soon as I got down from the altar and started walking to the entrance of the church, for a moment I looked back and saw her being supported by her sister.
Everything would have been so much easier if I hadn't been a coward afraid of commitment, I wouldn't have left the love of my life in tears as I left as fast as my feet would allow.
There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about and regret leaving her at that altar. The decision I've made that day is haunting me everyday. I was a pussy, running away from what could have been a beautiful future.
I walked into the bar with Daniel, who was talking about how excited he was to meet Lando's much-talked-about new friend.
"My God, I think you're more excited about seeing her than Lando himself.”
"Actually, I think she's more than just his friend, from the way he talks about her it sounds like he's completely in love."
"There they are." I pointed to the table where Lando was standing and I could hear him laughing and he was certainly in love with his friend.
"Hi guys, this is Y/n." He says smiling and she turns around and her smile disappears when she sees me. "This is Daniel and Max."
"You..."
"It's nice to meet you guys." She says before I can say anything and holds out her hand to us.
"Well, let's sit down."
The evening passed slowly and there was certainly a strange atmosphere when I arrived, but I think it was just me and her who noticed as Daniel and Lando were having a great time.
"Well everyone, everything was great but I have a lot of things to do tomorrow so I'll call it a night." She gets up and starts reaching for her purse.
"I'll pay for it." I say.
"If I wanted a men to pay for things for me, I'd be married." She says thickly and they look at her. "But thank you for offering."
She says goodbye and leaves and the boys carry on talking and don't even see me get up and go after her. She was holding her hand up for a cab to stop and I ran over and put her hand down and then the cab drove straight past.
"What's your problem?" She says and lets go of me.
"Can we talk?"
"No." She turns away from me.
"Please?" I ask again.
"No, I don't want to talk to you and in fact I never wanted to see you again." She says tearfully. "You have no idea how ashamed and humiliated I felt that day and how hard it was to get over you and move on. And now you turn up years later wanting to talk?"
“I want to say I'm sorry."
"No, you don't have the right to be sorry because if you were sorry you wouldn’t have humiliated me like that or at least called me and explained why you asked me to marry you and then left."
"I didn't want to do that."
"Then why did you do it? Why did you leave me crying on the church floor while you left?"
"Because I'm an idiot, okay? I was afraid of commitment and afraid that getting married at 21 was a mistake."
"And how long were you afraid?" She catches me off guard with the question. "Were you afraid on the day or had you been afraid for longer? And don't you dare lie to me."
"I was already feeling it but I didn't know exactly what it was."
"If you'd talked to me like you promised at the beginning of our relationship, none of this would have happened." She says and I feel my heart ache to see her like this. "Then I'm sorry if I don't want to hear or accept your apology."
"I'm sorry."
"Stop, stop repeating that." She started breathing heavily and talking quietly to herself and breathing badly. "I can't breathe, I can't breathe."
"Look at me." I hold her shoulders and she looks at me with wide eyes. "Copy my breathing, okay? Breathe in and out."
We stayed like that for a few seconds until she started breathing normally again but crying a lot so I pulled her in and hugged her, I could feel my shirt getting wet from the tears but after a while she calmed down.
"I'm sorry I stained your shirt." She says after pulling away and wiping the mascara stains.
"It's okay, I don't care about the shirt."
"Okay." She lets go and looks at the floor.
"Come on, I'll take you wherever you want." She agrees and follows me to my car.
She gives me the address and I drive her to her house. The car is silent until she turns on the radio and I look at her.
"I'm sorry, I should have asked." She turns off.
"You don't have to." I said, calling again.
10 minutes later we arrived at her apartment and I realized that it was very close to mine, I opened the door and she was about to leave but she took a deep breath and looked at me.
"Thank you for bringing me home."
"No problem." She gave a slight smile and went inside and I felt as if I would never see her again.
Little did I know that it wouldn't be the last time I'd see her.
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This story could have a part 2 because I left the ending open so if you want more, let me know in the comments.
And also let me know if you want to be tagged in part 2 if I do.
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misshugs · 23 days
Text
The elevator game || Colby Brock x Reader
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[req by anon] You knew you were sensitive to the other side, but you didn't expect a silly little game from the internet to give you this much of an impact.
warnings: cursing, paranormal activity, reader getting (slightly) attacked by ghosts, sensitive/medium!reader, degrading, angst? still not sure what the meaning of it is tbh
a/n: this is my first request ever, i hope i didn't let you down dear anon. Concept based on this video
word count: 2.5k (not proofread)
[u n e d i t e d]
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
"What's up guys, it's Sam and Colby!" Colby screamed towards the camera, as always.
"Today we are here at the Driskill Hotel, also known as the most haunted hotel here in Texas." Sam continues.
"We're here to figure out why this place is so haunted and what message the ghosts here wanna tell the people. And for this video guys, we have a very special someone!" Colby says, moving to the side so that you're visible to the camera.
Waving at it and smiling, you were greeted by Colby's hands wrapped around your shoulders. "Thank you, thank you. Hello, dear people. It is I." They laugh.
"How are you feeling about this? Are you excited?" Sam asks, putting the camera on the both of you.
"I am! The place is HUGE and honestly, just looks so good!"
"Right?? When we got in it was just like a burst of shock at how gorgeous this place is." Sam said and Colby nodded.
"If it weren't haunted I'd probably come here more often, but I can already feel all of these... energies walking around, I wouldn't last too long."
"Oh, right. For anybody that doesn't know, Y/n is actually a bit of medium?" Colby asks while looking at you, making you nod. "Yeah, so she's sensitive to like the energy of shadow figures and things like that, so maybe we'll get to experience something interesting tonight!"
"I'd say hopefully not but that wouldn't make it fun I guess." You laugh and so do they while you explain it is a pain in the ass to feel those things constantly. "It is almost as if you're constantly paranoid about someone looking at you, y'know what I mean?"
"Oh yeah, for sure." Colby noded.
"Yeah so that, but those stares are more physical than anything, there are times where I can feel people walking behind me and when I look back, there's no one."
"I can just imagine how creepy that must feel." Sam said and you chuckled.
"Oh yeah. You have no idea." You smiled.
"Well then, shall we begin the investigation?" Colby asked you, smiling. You quickly smiled back.
"Of course." You kissed him softly before Sam could even turn off the camera.
"Oh, gross man. I'll have to edit that out." He said jokingly and you laughed, rolling your eyes.
"But seriously though, let's keep it moving." You said and they agreed.
Walking around, there were a few pieces of lore they had to explain to you beforehand. About the one and only Driskill who created the hotel, about the little girl that broke her neck, so on and so forth.
There were times when you had this eerie feeling of constantly being followed, so you kept your arms interlocked with Colby's.
"You're doing okay so far?" He asked, cautiously caressing your hand. You nodded.
"Yeah, just feel like we're being followed." You replied, looking back where there was no one there.
"Really??" Sam asked, looking back as well but seeing nothing. "Do you think we caught a ghost's interest?"
"I mean, probably. There is a difference in between someone that's coming just for the hotel part and us, that are investigating and directly needing their intervention. We're making them curious."
"Well, for whatever spirit that might be following us, you're welcome to answer our questions later on tonight." Colby said loud enough for anything around to listen to it.
Honestly, even those small gestures made you so madly in love with him. The way he touches you softly just for you to make sure you're not alone and he's here for you is such a warming feeling.
Wilst looking around the current room, Colby walked up to a random closed door and tried to walk through.
"She said no closed doors!" Sam exclaimed, probably talking about the tour guide's rules of the place.
"Unless it's... unlocked." Colby responded, making Sam roll his eyes.
"Oop, it's Jim Hogg's room." You said, looking up.
"Who's that?" Sam asked.
"I dunno, it says its name on the top." You point up and they just laughed at the comment. I mean, what were they expecting? You had no idea about whatever story roams around these halls asides from the two main ones they've explained.
"Also I don't think you should be trying even more, like if it's hard to go in it's probably because you're not supposed to."
"We have a bad reputation of breaking into places." Sam admitted and you smiled.
"Yeah, I know. I remember that." You chuckle and hold Colby's hand to pull away from the door.
As they kept on chatting and making interesting comments here and there, you found the elevator and pointed it out. "Oh, is this the one?" Colby asked Sam and he just gave him a stare.
"This is the one what?" You ask and they look at eachother.
Sam sighed. "We were going to keep it until the time came, but we may have a little challenge for tonight that has to do with the elevator."
"Ooooh sounds fun. I wanna do it." You smile.
"You sure?? You have to be by yourself." Colby asked, worried but amused.
"Do you think I can't do this, Mr. Brock? That's offensive." You spat, crossing your hands around your chest.
"No! I meant-" He tried to explain, but you quickly interrupted.
"Cancelled, I tell you. Cancelled!" You look away with your eyes closed, trying not to laugh at the stupid situation unfolding.
"Great." You heard him sigh in defeat as Sam started laughing at the both of you. Looking back with a smile on your face, you hugged him.
"Alright, let's get going already." You giggled, gaining a kiss on the top of your head from your boyfriend.
Walking inside the elevator, it almost felt as if it quickly went down in an unnatural way.
"Did you guys feel like... the elevator dropping three inches?"
"Yeah, kinda of." Sam said.
"Three inches is a lot." Colby replied.
"Three inches is huge." Sam continued.
"I can vouch." You said.
"Mass..." Colby began talking but couldn't hold in the laugh after you said that.
Going back to the main lobby, you all reached out to a girl that was apparently the tourguide. She quickly explained the story of the place, how it ended up being the renouned hotel it came to be.
When she explained that the smell of cigar was one of the main ways Driskill manifested, your eyes went wide. "You're kidding."
"No, did you smell it before?" She asked.
"I did! But it was like, close to the entrance so I thought that maybe someone was smoking. I did find it rare because it was just a glimpse of it for like a solid second and then gone." You explained, making the girl smile.
"Well, that was him."
"No way." Colby said, smiling at you.
"Yup." She nodded, continuing to explain as you all started walking back to the elevator. Going inside, the door closed only to be opened again. "Oh?"
"Did we just pressed five and went to one? It's haunted!" Sam exclaimed.
"That was weird." Colby said, looking at the door.
"It was, that was so weird." The guide said, trying to close the door once again, only for it to open again.
"Does it do that often?" You asked and she shook her head.
"No! It doesn't." She walked back out and talked to someone from out side. "Are you fucking with us?"
"That's so strange- oh, I hit it." You whispered. The guide came back in.
"But you see it, right? I'm pressing five and it like start to go up but then it stops." The door closes once again, only for them to open.
"Oh my god." Sam said, whispering.
"And we're doing a challenge here?" You asked confused, making them laugh.
"Not here exactly." Colby smiled.
"Lemme- I'll go out." You said, walking out of the elevator, watching as the doors began to close, only for them to open once again. "Oh no, that's- that's a malfunction alright."
"And you said it, these malfuction all the time." Colby said to the guide as they walked out of the elevator.
When Sam did it by himself, it started working all over again.
"What the fuck??" Colby yelled.
"Are we like fat? Is it fat shaming us?" You whined, making everyone laugh.
And so, even though your night barely started, you were already having some activity to say the least.
And it kept being that way all night. Constant responses from spirits, intelligent ones at that. The little girl, the woman from the vortex room... all the way down to the challenge you've been anticipating the whole night round.
The elevator challenge.
"I think it might be just me but every single time we pass through this side of the hotel I feel like actually throwing up."
"Wait, really?" Colby asked, worried.
"Like an eerie feeling more than anything, almost like I'm kinda feeling a bit dizzy whenever we pass through here."
"Are you sure you want to do this? You can still back out, or I could go in with you." Colby tried to make you change your mind, but you were settled in it.
"No, I have to do it alone. What if it doesn't work because we're together? You're not gonna let me do this right?"
"I do! I'm just worried." Colby admitted, making you smile.
"You cutie. I love you so much." You said, smiling at him and cupping his face before giving him a quick peck on the lips.
"Y'all are gonna make me puke, another part I'm gonna have to cut out." Sam joked, making you giggle.
"Alright, alright. So, how does this work?" You ask, hugging yourself as you wait for instructions.
It was a simple game. Supposedly, you had to hit the buttons of the elevator in a specific order. In the last one, you had to invite in a lady. If the ritual worked, you were supposed to start going up into another world. If it didn't, well, nothing happened and it failed.
"So... I'm about to get isekai'd? We're going to an anime, brothers." You laughed at your own joke while they handed you your camera.
"I send you the order, just in case." Sam continued, and you nodded.
"Thank you, 'cause I already forgot." You turned on your phone as well as the camera and walked in.
"Any last words?" Colby asked cheekishly, making you smile.
"See you in the other side." You answered, before the door closed. You sighed, putting the camera up to your face. "Alright, so... I'm supposed to hit this one first." Switching the camera back to the buttons, you hit the number four.
It began moving. "Oh, good. It would've been a mess if it already fucked up. Alright..." You sighed. "I didn't told them this, but I do find the thought of getting stuck in an elevator horrifying. I just agreed because maybe it might help me out, but it doesn't work the fact that I can feel so many spirits around this area specifically every time we walk past it." You explain before getting on the next floor, touching the next button.
Back down on the lobby, Sam and Colby were talking.
"I didn't want her to do it, honestly. I was gonna do it myself." Sam said.
"Right? She's our guest too, what if something happens to her? That would be the death of me."
"Don't jinx it, brother. She'll be alright."
Boy they were wrong.
Halfway through, your vision started to get blurry, your legs were shaky and you couldn't brush off the feeling of pressure on your chest. It was starting to make you nervous, even more so the fact you were alone.
You started thinking to yourself. What if something really did happen? What if you summon something your body couldn't handle? What if it really did send you to another world?
It happened so quickly, that you have already reached the last floor before you knew it. Gulping down your dry throat, you began to speak. "Alright, if there's something... out... oh fuck." Your vision got blurry and you could feel an inmense ammout of power flushing through the elevator doors even before it opened up.
You couldn't hold it together, it was too much for you to handle as you were suspecting before. Although you tried to stay up, your legs couldn't hold your weight up anymore and you passed out, falling down to the floor, hitting your head strongly onto the hard floor of the elevator.
Luckily, the ritual didn't work. It began going down and the guys, mainly Colby, were anxiously waiting for the doors to open. When they did, their faces fell.
Colby screamed out your name, quickly rushing in and holding your head. "Love?? Sweetheart, what happened? Wake up, please. Oh God." He began shaking, carrying you outside of the elevator so that it was slightly more comfortable.
"What happened? Oh my fucking God." Sam whispered, grabbing your camera from the elevator's floor and walking out.
"She's not responding, Sam." Colby nervously said, making sure you were at least still alive.
You were.
"Should I call an ambulance or something?" Sam asked. "Oh, no. I have the keys with me."
"Let's take her to the hospital, quickly." He lifted you up from the floor and hurriedly got out of the building and to the hospital.
You were alright, luckily. It seemes you have just fainted, but you falling down to the floor and hitting your head so hard made it a bit more complicated than what it had to be.
Colby felt bad, horrible even to think that this could've happened to you.
He should've been more careful, he should've known you were too sensitive to all of these energies so that you would go alone and out to make something so nerve racking. He should've been more insisting, rather than going with the flow merely because of a video.
He let his love have that type of experience because of a mere video.
It devastared him. Made him feel absolutely awful about it. While waiting for you to wake up, he kept on downgrading himself thinking about how he's the worst possible boyfriend.
It all stops when you finally wake up. Looking around the white room, confused.
"What happened?"
"It looks like you fainted... I'm so sorry for letting you do that all by yourself, I should've stopped you, I should've at least gone with you, I'm so sorry that you had to go through that because-"
"Love. Love!" You held his cheeks softly, making him quietly stop ranting, you smiled. "You know I wanted to do it, I was the stupid one for forgetting that big energy rafts can affect me a lot, I'm so sorry baby." You kissed his nose, reassuring him everything was alright.
And honestly, he needed to hear it. From you, specifically. Sam was trying to make him calm down but it didn't really work. It had to be you, your voice, your smile.
The one thing that made him whole all over again.
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
I MAY HAVE DONE TOO MUCH FILLER FOR NO GODDAMN REASON- also hoping that dear anon liked it-
thank you for reading, loves~! likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated <3
~nikkõ
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yandere-romanticaa · 1 year
Note
I'm not sure if it's okay, but can I request a second part for this precious Douma post you fed us with please ?
If you don't do second part to your post, no problem, anything for him will calm my hunger 🥲
Here it is, the heavily requested part 2 of this piece. Hope you enjoy it!
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Barely a week has passed ever since the horrific encounter with Lord Douma.
You recalled someone saying that the stench of death is permanent, that it is something you can never forget once you get a whiff of it.
The smell of rot and decay haunted you both day and night. Sleep became a scarce luxury as you would lay awake in the dead of night, wondering just what other poor soul was Lord Douma going to devour next. It all clicked once you put two and two together, of course he was a demon. His strange reactions, twisted attitude and carefree smiles were nothing but a mask to cover up his true, carnivorous nature. Douma clearly had a preference for women for his meals as you noticed that most of the people who ran amok were women.
Were you next?
Despite him not turning around and even outright saying that he wasn't going to do anything, you simply did not trust him. Why should you? He was a demon, a very clever one at that, clearly. He managed to trick hundreds of people into blindly following him and submitting to his every single little whim. All he needed to do was just say the word and the entire community would execute you without a question - Lord Douma's word was absolute.
You didn't even want to think about the other much more grizzly possibility if he wanted a more hands on approach.
Due to the encounter that you had unfortunately witnessed, your work had started to hinder. You became sloppy and shaky, you couldn't even perform the most basics of tasks. Someone else was always forced to step in for you and others voiced their concern for you.
"Why aren't you with Lord Douma? You always pour his afternoon tea!"
"I thought Lord Douma wanted you close by for the ceremony?"
Many similar statements would ring in your ears on a daily basis that it made you want to bang your head against a wall a pull out every single little strand of hair. Just how blind and stupid were there people?! There was no way that you were the only one who knew what was really going on behind closed doors. To make your living nightmare even worse than it really was, on one fine and sunny morning one little boy came up to you. With a cheerful smile on his face he said:
"Lord Douma wishes to speak with you! Please meet him in his chambers as soon as possible!"
Each step that you took felt more and more agonizing then it should have been. You felt like someone had placed a giant pile of rocks on your chest and chained them there. What were you to do, oh God, what were you supposed to do? Do you play dumb or should you come clean? If you told him the truth he might appreciate your honesty and let you off the hook -
...That was nothing but wishful thinking. There was no point in trying to make sense of a demon.
You arrive to his chambers, the doors closed shut. With a heavy heart you knock and a cheerful "Come in!~" is heard from the other side.
You don't dare look at Lord Douma directly in the eye. You lower your head in fear but do your best to make it look like a sign of respect. He sits on his makeshift throne, chin resting on one hand as the other urges you forward to sit in front of him. With your knees sinking to the ground you feel him reaching out towards you, his fingers were playing with stray strands of your hair.
You still did not raise your gaze.
"(y/n) dear, I haven't seen you in so long! I missed my favorite disciple so much! Why are you ignoring me?!"
Who would have thought that this whiney brat in front of you was a man eating demon? He sounded like a little boy, like he hadn't seen his favorite toy in a long time, which was partially true in a way. You grit your teeth and try thinking of something proper to say but Douma beats you to it.
"Do not ignore me."
Icy chills take over your entire being. Since... Since when did Lord Douma sound like that? You clenched the fabric your kimono, knuckles turning white due to the pressure. Suddenly, a sharp thug forced you to look upward and were met with a rainbow gaze.
"You aren't ignoring me, right, (y/n)?"
You can do nothing but gently shake your head. With his gaze glued to you it was impossible to breathe let alone speak. Feeling the pressure behind your skull lighten your shoulders slump forward as Lord Douma brings you closer and locks you in his embrace.
He knows.
He knows that you saw him. Why else would he summon you like this? Feeling helpless you could do nothing but wrap your arms around the cult leader, returning his hug in full.
Ignorance really was bliss.
You finally understood the beauty of it.
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saetoru · 1 year
Text
✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。PLAN B — ALHAITHAM.
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alhaitham has long resigned to the reality that as long as he’s dating you, there can never be an argument he can fully win with logic alone. all his life, his brain has carried him above men in the most impressive of ways, granted him effortless victories that he’s strategized in just a few quick seconds—except no matter how impressive, his brain is no match for your stubbornness.
one time, he even overhears the general mahamatra mumble, it seems like he’s met his match. to this day, the moment haunts him in his sleep sometimes.
but he figures cyno is right (though no one should ever tell him this) because otherwise, alhaitham, the akademiya’s scribe and current acting grand sage, would never be buying flowers and standing before you to apologize for something he didn’t even do.
well, he did—it’s just that he did in a dream, not reality.
“oh, has the cheater come back for my hand again?” you spit, crossing your arms and looking to the side with a hmph.
the universe must be having a field day with this show, he thinks, the show of alhaitham’s life taking complicated turns in places they simply do not have to. woefully, he’s sure kaveh is enjoying this, at least. otherwise the architect wouldn’t be sitting on the opposite couch and watching in pure glee.
“technically, i didn’t cheat,” alhaitham argues, “that was the alhaitham of your conjured imagination. the real alhaitham was peacefully sleeping until he was rudely pushed off of the mattress despite having work in a few hours—”
“i don’t speak to cheaters,” you huff.
alhaitham figures it’s now time to put plan b into action. plan b is as follows: to buy your favorite type of flowers and present them to you, all while dinner from your favorite restaurant sits on the table waiting. as soon as your eyes light up at the sight of the flowers, he’ll be able to skillfully sneak his way beside you on the couch, pull you close with one arm, and before you realize what he’s done, he’ll lead you to the dining table with your usual order waiting for you.
it’s a fool proof plan, he thinks—all plans of his have always had a ninety nine percent success rate, and this is no different. the only reason there’s not a one hundred percent success rate is solely and entirely due to the fact that he cannot plan for unforeseeable circumstances that occur last minute. these circumstances are beyond his control, but the small statistical chance of them occurring puts his mind at ease that in a few short minutes, all will be back to normal.
“these are for you,” he says, holding out the bouquet he bought—which was rather expensive, might he add.
and then, because the universe hates him, that one percent chance of an unforeseeable circumstance presents itself at the most inopportune of times.
“why is this one dead?” you raise a brow, pointing to the flower in the corner he failed to notice.
wonderful, he thinks. kaveh snorts, and alhaitham simply let’s his shoulders sag.
“well,” he starts, “i didn’t notice that one. forgive me—”
“just like you didn’t notice my presence while you cheated on me, huh? yeah, for the akademiya’s scribe, you sure do miss a lot,” you glare daggers at him.
“but i didn’t—”
“it’s your fault i dreamt that in the first place,” you hiss, “who’s plan allowed the people of sumeru to dream again?”
“yes,” kaveh adds from the corner, “do tell, alhaitham. who’s brilliant plan has lead to this situation?”
“certainly not yours,” alhaitham shoots back, crossing his arms as he raises a brow at the insufferable blonde, “if it were up to you to make the plans, we’d have quit before we even start.”
“don’t be rude to kaveh,” you scold, “kaveh would never cheat on me.”
“of course i wouldn’t,” kaveh agrees.
alhaitham pinches himself in hopes this is all his dream and he can wake up from this torturous nightmare.
“kaveh is behind on rent and acutely single. the only place kaveh could cheat on you is in his own dreams,” alhaitham argues, which earns an offended sound of indignation from his roommate.
“if this is your way of apologizing, it sucks,” you sulk, refusing to meet his eyes.
with a heavy sigh, alhaitham sets down the flowers and hesitantly—he does not wish to be shoved to the floor a second time in one day—settles beside you on the couch.
“i would never be unfaithful to you. i love you,” he says simply, but his voice is delicate, serious, like he means it. “i love you because you brighten each day, and make them far more tolerable by your side—even despite your occasional illogical fits of rage. and i will continue to love you even when i am the target of them.”
“seriously?” kaveh gapes in disbelief, “that’s your apology? are you trying to be broken up with—”
“really?” you ask, hopeful.
“of course,” alhaitham nods, and if the corner of his eyes shoot kaveh a smug look…well, only kaveh sees it.
“you’ve never cheated on me?” you narrow your eyes, searching for confirmation in his.
he grabs your hands, nodding. “never,” he assures.
“okay,” you nod, “as long as you’ve learned your lesson, i can look past the mistakes of the alhaitham of my dreams.”
“the alhaitham of your reality is so graciously thankful,” he says sarcastically.
you giggle. he smiles softly. kaveh rolls his eyes and walks to his room.
“well, alhaitham of my reality,” you hum, moving to cup his cheeks and lean in until your lips are just barely touching his, “i love you too. even despite how you infuriate me—including in my dreams.”
“it’s an unfortunate quality all potential versions of alhaitham come with,” he chuckles, and then his lips are pressed to yours firmly.
and you know, from this kiss alone, from the way he holds you like you’re the first bloom of spring after a harsh winter, that you’re the only one he has room for in his heart.
plan b had a few unexpected complications, but as always, alhaitham adds another successful attempt to his list.
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this reader is so me-coded pls look away 😭
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sabersandsnipers · 5 months
Text
A Trap Lies Ahead
Request:
How would romanced Astarion react to Tav (probably a bard Tav) offering to use themself as bait to lure out one of Astarion's sibling vampire spawn? Like, instead of just running into Dal and Petras, Tav preforms at where Astarion says are frequent haunts of his siblings, with Tav basically making themself seem like an easy target. Just an idea for a scenario.
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You stare at your reflection in the standing mirror. Astarion flits around you, a tape measure hanging around his neck. His actions are precise and practiced, and you notice the focus in his gaze. 
His confidence does nothing to cure your nerves, though. After brainstorming for hours on how to lure one of his fellow spawn in for questioning, you didn’t think offering yourself as bait would be something to consider. You were even more surprised that Astarion even agreed it. But he’s determined to corner another vampire and get answers. 
Astarion lines the tape up with one of your arms, and you shiver as his fingertips brush against your skin. His gaze meets yours briefly. He studies you for a moment, and you hope he doesn’t notice the fear crawling within you. 
But centuries of studying people has made him an expert at reading expressions. He lets his touch linger on your skin a moment longer, a small gesture of comfort. You know he senses the worry in you. 
A few minutes later he pauses in front of you. You glance down at him from the pedestal he put you on.
“I have all the measurements I need,” he tells you. He plays with the measuring tape in his hands. “I’ll get to work on the dress.” 
His eyes flit around nervously, and he’s unable to meet your gaze. Your hands have started shaking at the thought of baring yourself to the danger ahead, and you know anxiety has started to grip him as well. You tilt his chin up, forcing him to look at you. 
“We’ll get through this,” you say, as much to yourself as to him. 
He sighs, but his stance remains tense. He steps forward a bit and buries his face in your chest, inhaling your scent. You lace your fingers in his curls and press a kiss to top of his head. 
“I’m sorry I’m putting you through this,” he says. Your heart clenches at the hurt in his voice. This is as much torture for him as it is for you. 
You cradle his face in your hands, stroking your thumb along his cheekbone. His eyelids flutter closed at the sensation. 
“I trust you, Astarion. And we have to do something. We can’t just wait for them to come to us,” you tell him, hoping your words will ease some of his guilt. 
He grabs your hand and places a kiss on your palm. His eyes meet yours, a new determination settling within them. 
“I will be close by, love,” he says. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” 
A smile pulls at your lips, and your body warms at his protectiveness. “I know. I just worry you might do your job too well with how that dress is gonna look,” you joke. 
He lets out a breathy laugh. “I will admit you’re going to have to look irresistible, but you don’t even need a dress to do that in my opinion.” 
Your cheeks flush with heat. “As long as you’re the only one that  gets to touch me by the time the night’s over.” 
His hands grip your hips and lift you up to place you before him. His gaze now looks down on you, but the way he looks at you doesn’t make you feel smaller. 
“If they lay a hand on you, they will know a different fear by the time I’m done with them.” His words are hard but his expression is soft. You can’t help the shiver of excitement that runs through you at his promise. 
His hand slides to the back of your neck, pulling your forehead against his. You let out a breath at his proximity, savoring the way his thumb strokes the sensitive skin on your neck. The stress that had gripped you so tightly before has vanished with Astarion’s words. 
And you can’t help but feel sorry for any enemy that has the guts to touch Astarion’s mate.
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dumbseee · 4 months
Text
thunder and lightning.
in which, you and jude broke up after a long relationship and you perform the song you wrote for him, in front of him at the ballon d’or ceremony.
jude bellingham x singer!reader.
fc: madison beer.
note: please read this and listen to "thunder and lightning" by serayah. / might turn this into a small serie 🤭
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liked by bellahadid, tatemcrae, sabrinacarpenter and 1 829 000 others.
y/n: my most precious and raw song "thunder and lightning" is now yours 🤍 now it’s time to grow and move on.
_
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_
you were standing in the middle of this big stage. in front of these important people, some of them used to be people you’d hang out with. but breaking up with jude meant saying goodbye to them too, even if it was hard since you made good friendships thanks to your ex. it was too hard to keep contact with them without jude haunting your thoughts, and they understood that. your break up with jude occured a few months ago now, and you thought you were doing better, but being on this stage, about to perform the song you wrote in one hour, the day he broke up with you, sent shivers all over your body. and you even considered running away.
but you were stronger than before, you worked hard on this song and you needed jude to hear it. you looked absolutely stunning in this dress, you tried to put a smile on your face but only pain and anxiety could be seen. you saw all these people looking at you, some with adoration, others with envy and some with sadness because they knew how hurt you were. thunder and lightning started and you closed your eyes before taking a deep breath. you got this.
"can't you look at me and see that i love ya? and i’d do anything for ya?" you began, looking at the crowd but your eyes immediately found his. you almost stutter on the lyrics but immediately closed your eyes to refocus. his eyes were glowing and his face was torn with concern and almost regret. ha, too late for that boy. "and i’ll do anything for ya, climb up mount everest without a rope, dive into the bermuda without a boat." because it was true, you could do anything for this boy, anything and everything without thinking it twice. you loved him with your whole soul, it was insane. you could’ve quit music if he asked, and that without a second thought because that’s how loyal and in love you were.
"like thunder and lightning, we were meant to be, wrapped up inside your arms, that's right where i belong." you hit the hook with more vulnerability in your voice, it resonated in the whole room and inside people’s heart. you knew some people in the audience would relate to your situation, girlfriends of footballers who suffered the disrespect of their partner. or even footballers themselves having their heart broken by women who never actually loved them. this song wasn’t just about you and jude, it was about this feeling of despair when you see the person you love, leaving you heartbroken and alone. you saw some old friends bobbing their heads to your song and even sending smiles and thumbs ups to you.
you soon end the song, for a minute the room is frozen in silence, no one moves. and the one to break the ice was jude, he got up and clapped you like no one ever clapped for you. soon enough the whole room followed, giving you a standing ovation. you felt your eyes getting watery as you locked eyes with jude, his expression was unreadable. you were the one to break the eye contact as you bowed to the audience and blowed a kiss to the camera. you left the stage and almost ran backstage to let the tears you kept inside since the beginning of the performance, run down your cheeks. you let yourself fall to the ground, your agent and friend hugged you from behind and kissed the top of your head. "let’s go home now." you whispered between a sob.
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liked by trentarnold66, vinijr, rodrygogoes and 3 729 028 others.
judebellingham: such an honour to win these trophies. making my parents proud and being a good role model for my brother has always been my top priority, thank you for the support and thank you for always being by my side.
_
fan1: CONGRATS KING
fan2: deserved so much more but i’m so happy for him
fan3: making the parents proud >>
fan4: the fact that y/n was there too and probably congratulated him :(
fan5: lmao nah she probably left after the performance, she hates his ass now
fan6: as she should tbh
fan7: y/n deserved way better
vinijr: 🔥🔥🔥
philfoden: congrats mate! keep shinning 💪🏼
fan8: i’m a huge fan but you should be held accountable for how you treated y/n
fan9: DON’T LISTEN TO THE HATERS KING
fan10: the future of football is right there
fan11: keep showing them who’s the boss jude!
fan12: he looked so good tho 🥴
fan13: finally a stylist who does him justice
deuxmoi: hm, being a good role model right? then care to explain why a little bird came to us with receipts about the night she had with you, while you were dating y/n?
fan14: WTF
fan15: WTFFFABSKSKSLDDD WHAT IS THIS
fan16: nah they must be lying jude would NEVER cheat
fan17: deuxmoi isn’t even a reliable source!
fan18: yeah but apparently they got receipts so…
view all comment.
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y/n just posted a story!
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caption: couldn’t relate more.
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loki-cees-all · 5 months
Note
Hello and hi, my lovely!
I have this scenario for you that I sometimes think about.
How would Loki react if you (the mortal he might have feelings for but he’s not quite certain yet) were the only one to acknowledge his birthday? Maybe you put up a few balloons and even buy him a little cupcake with a candle on it? How would he react?
Happiest of birthdays to you! You’re a joy to know!! I love you!! 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷
Cupcake For a God {Avengers!Loki x Avengers!Reader}
Cee's Loki Fic Masterlist / AO3 Link
Pairing : Avengers!Loki x Avengers!Reader
Summary : Loki’s birthday is approaching, and it forces himself to reconcile who he wants to be versus who he actually is, and to reflect on his almost certainly unrequited feelings for you.
But what if the feelings weren’t unrequited?
W/c : 1.9k words
Content/Warnings : Angst, a bit of fluff
Author's Note : I swear I tried so hard to make this not so angsty! Please forgive me, Saz! 😭😭😭
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⊱ ── ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ──  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅  ── ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ── ⊰
There were a lot of things for Loki to dislike about living on Midgard. 
For starters, he was being forced to live there, inside Stark Tower with the other Avengers as penance for his crimes. It was only fitting, they’d told him, that he should assist in their efforts to keep the mortals safe because he was the reason they needed protecting in the first place.
Loki didn’t bother telling them what Thanos had done to him after he fell from the Bifrost; truthfully, he still didn’t quite understand it himself. That entire year was a blur to him - a painful concoction of lies and manipulations and tears and blood that left him unable to tell the difference between fact and fiction, even almost two years after the torture had began. 
He didn’t want anyone to know how weak he was, about how much he’d lost himself. If they knew how vulnerable he was, they might decide he wasn’t worth the trouble and send him to the dungeons of Asgard instead. 
Another thing he disliked was the forced pleasantries and unnecessary rituals humans had developed with each other, and by extension, him. The humans would smile as they past him by on the street, but it was a falsity every time; the sentiment never reached their eyes, and Loki could smell their fear from several blocks away. 
Loki knew they didn’t actually care how his day was going, that their concern only went as far as making sure he wasn’t on the verge of invading with another alien force under his command. He wasn’t, but honestly, if it meant everyone kept their distance, then he wasn’t going to argue with it. 
It wasn’t fair to say that Loki preferred being alone, but he was certainly used to it, and that was in direct contradiction of the forced socialization he had to endure on Midgard - press conferences, team building exercises (which Loki believed was just an excuse to consume copious amounts of food and drink), training sessions, something called “movie nights”, and missions across the world to dismantle S.H.I.E.L.D.’s various bunkers and bases. 
It was so much talking, and even more listening. So much lying and pretending that everything was fine, that Loki didn’t feel like a caged monster, and that everyone else wasn’t waiting for the littlest thing to completely set him off. 
But Loki was trying as hard as he could to ignore the dull ache that haunted his dreams and every waking moment. He knew he had hurt people, he knew he needed to make up for his grievous transgressions, but he didn’t know how else to make up for it all. So he pressed on, through the discomfort and awkwardness, in the hope that one day everything might become a little easier.
The one bright side to all of this, the one shimmering ray of light amidst the sea of gray, was you. Loki didn’t quite know what to make of his attraction to you - was it real, or was it just your absence of fear in his presence? Had it just been too long since he’d felt the touch of another, or were you actually everything he’d ever wanted?
Loki almost didn’t want to find out, in case it wasn’t real. Because your smile reached your eyes every time you looked at him, and your laughter was like sparks blowing across the embers of a dying fire…but he couldn’t shake the fear that it could just be another trick. 
Perhaps his mind still hadn’t fully recovered from Thanos’ torture. Maybe Thor had put you up to this, as a way of making assimilation easier for him. 
Because why else would you look at him like that? Why would you go out of your way to sit next to him during the team’s movie nights? Why else would you lean towards him on the couch and fall asleep against the shoulder of a villain, of a monster, of a fool? 
It was stupid, and pointless, and illogical, and just like him to irrationally want something he couldn’t ever have. He was a God, and you were a mortal, and it would ultimately end in heartache either way. So while he had the chance, Loki forced himself to remain content and to just linger in the question of what if you could want him too. 
The final thing about Midgard, and the one he despised the most, was the mortal obsession with birthdays. Loki was grateful the Asgardians never paid any attention to such silly and exhausting traditions - which was surprising, considering how much Asgardians loved frivolity. 
So he really shouldn’t have been shocked when Thor discovered, and subsequently fell in love with, the concept of birthdays. His brother immediately requested his mortal companion Jane to perform the necessary calculations to determine the Midgardian equivalent of Thor’s birthdate - and Loki’s as well, which his brother gleefully announced to the entire team and embarrassed him to the deepest pits of his soul. 
A massive celebration was planned for Thor, with enough food and drink to sustain a small country, and on the special night, flashing lights and loud music bathed the massive common room of Stark Tower in merriment and laughter. Everyone was invited, and it would have been rude for Loki to not make an appearance - but it wasn’t because he wanted to admire you in your party dress, although that was a very lovely bonus. 
But as gorgeous as you looked - the longer the party went on, the sadder Loki became. Everyone was talking, smiling, and dancing, congratulating Thor on his many accomplishments and swapping happy stories of all the good times they’d had together. It was painful to witness, to know for a fact that no such party would be happening for himself when his birthday rolled around. 
Loki tried telling himself that he didn’t want it, and that he’d be miserable during it. He tried convincing himself that it would be too loud, and too bawdy, and vain, and that he didn’t need other people’s reassurances that they were happy he was there with them. He told himself he didn’t need it at all, that he was completely fine without it. But it was a lie, so of course it didn’t work. 
As the days approached to Loki’s birthday, he became even more withdrawn than usual. With the exceptions of necessary missions or training, he stopped leaving his room. He was silent during travel on the Quinjet, and refused your invitations to further movie nights, even though the disappointment on your face ripped him apart in ways he’d never experienced before. 
He felt like he deserved to suffer, to collapse in on himself like a dying star because he knew he’d never be worthy of the love and attention his older brother seemed to collect so effortlessly. It wasn’t Thor’s fault; it was just Loki’s lot in life. And the further he receded, the more likely his heartache would be justified, and he couldn’t be surprised if he was already disappointed.
The evening of his birthday was the worst night he’d experienced in a long time, not since the day he let go of the Bifrost. Loki didn’t even come out of his room for dinner that night, choosing instead to feast on pain, and anguish, and regret, and all the feelings he hadn’t ever had the time to process over his thousand years of existence. 
Thor tried several times to lure him out of his room, to no avail. Loki wouldn’t leave - no, he couldn’t leave. He couldn’t bring himself to witness the fact that they’d done nothing special for him, even though he’d be furiously uncomfortable if they did. 
As the hours passed, he tried to distract himself with sleep, and then reading, but neither did the trick. Eventually, he curled up on the window seat of his private quarters, wrapped himself in furs and pressed his forehead against the glass, watching the tiny little mortals going about their nights in blissful ignorance of the god suffering fifty floors above them. 
And Loki was so lost that he could barely respond to the cautious knock on his door, the one that threatened to pull him away from his misery. But his heart leapt in his throat when he heard your voice calling his name, and he wanted so much to let you in, to feel you next to him. 
But the urge to say something cruel, to push you away and continue on alone, was just as strong. Loki didn’t know which to concede to, even as his feet slowly carried him to the door. He didn’t know what he was going to say, even while his fingers raked through his messy curls and rubbed the pain from his eyes. 
He felt ridiculous as he hesitated to open the door; he was a God, and once the most fearsome villain this entire planet had ever seen - but here he was, nervous and split open and too raw to simply open a door and look upon a beautiful woman while he was hiding away from his birthday. 
There was a soft rustling sound on the other side of the door, and Loki’s forehead rested against the wood as he heard your footsteps quietly retreating down the hallway. He’d waited too long, paralyzed by his self-indulgent indecision, and it had pushed you away. 
He thought about yanking the door open and calling after you. He considered begging for you to come back. He desperately wanted to wrap his arms around you and to pull you closer, but all he could manage was to gently pull the door open after he was sure you were gone. 
On the floor of the hallway, waiting patiently and comfortably for him, was a beautifully-decorated cupcake and a note resting on a small paper plate. A single candle rose out of the emerald and sapphire swirls of frosting, and the pink paper was folded in half, with his name written in the loveliest cursive on the outside. 
Loki fought back tears as he retrieved the gift from the floor, and he cautiously balanced the plate in one hand while holding the note in the other. 
Hey Loki,
I know birthdays are hard; they’re hard for me too. But hopefully this treat makes you smile, even just for a second. 
I’ll be awake for a little while longer - stop by my room if you need to talk. I promise I won’t find it weird :) 
XOXO
P.S. I’m really glad you’re here, even if you’re not ready to accept that yet. 
He swallowed hard as he stared at the most generous gift he’d ever received. He didn’t know if you even fully understood what you’d just done for him. He fervently wanted to go after you, and he desperately wanted to continue hiding. 
But you’d extended an invitation, one he could feasibly take you up on. No one would argue it wasn’t in his right to do so. And Gods above, he wanted to, more than anything else he’d ever wanted. But would it be worth it, or would it just make everything worse? 
Loki tore his damp and heavy eyes away from the note and glanced up and down the hallway. He shut his door, just as quietly as he’d opened it, wondering if it would be a mistake to allow his heart guide him to where he’d rather be. 
⊱ ── ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ──  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅  ── ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ── ⊰
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chronicowboy · 22 days
Text
but when i tried to love him i loved at the wrong time
this is a two for one spec inspired by this post and my long lost love trapped dads
any complaints about this fic can and should be directed to @evankinard who bullied me into writing this for her after i ruined her day with a single dm. love you bby <3
Eddie breaks apart a little the moment Buck disappears from view, lets himself feel the wound in his side as an excuse not to feel the big unwieldy thing unfolding in his chest like a colonising panic. He hadn't wanted to leave him, not after half an hour trapped in that smoky room clinging to each other to ground themselves in the reality they were trapped in, but Buck had made several stubborn and convincing arguments about Christopher before announcing he wouldn't move if Eddie didn't. Eddie had tried, had tried to get Buck out first, Buck who had just found happiness with—with Tommy, Buck who has always deserved to live. But Hen and Chim had come in with the clinical wisdom of paramedics and said a rebar through the abdomen was always going to take priority over a fractured leg.
Now, Eddie is rolled out of a collapsing building, leaving behind Buck—a bird with a broken wing, incapable of moving.
God, the noises Buck had made when he'd dragged himself over to Eddie's side. They'll be haunting him for years, for whatever lifetime he has left. Worse somehow than the first time with an entire engine on top of him. Except this time, Eddie couldn't hold his hand. Not now, but not before either because... Because that was someone else's job now. And like a laugh from the universe, Tommy appears just as Eddie reaches down to put the brakes on the gurney before Hen and Chim can get him into the ambulance.
"Kinard?" Bobby greets him with a grim-faced nod. "What are you doing here?"
"Heard you might need an assist from air support." He shrugs, but the breathlessness in the voice and the way his eyes keep jumping around the gathered 118 like he's only counting the one man not there reveals his nonchalance as the act it is. "Thought I'd swing by."
"Isn't that a conflict of interest?" Chimney asks.
"Fine, so I stole a helicopter again. Sue me for wanting to offer a hand." Tommy's face draws as soon as he stops speaking, and he glances back at the building waiting to swallow Eddie's heart whole. "How is he?"
"Holding in there," Eddie answers, voice tight enough to have Tommy really seeing him for the first time. "Think his bad leg is fractured."
"Shit," Tommy hisses, clenching his fists at his side.
"Yeah," Eddie breathes out. "Can't get himself out because of it. I wouldn't have left him, but—"
"He insisted," Tommy says, something entirely too knowing in his voice and his eyes. Eddie swallows thickly.
"And, well..." He gestures weakly to the rebar in his side, Buck's undershirt, now soaked through with Eddie's blood, wrapped around it as a makeshift bandage.
"Shit, Diaz." Tommy grimaces. "Shouldn't you be getting to the hospital?"
"He's refusing care until Buck is out too," Hen deadpans, pressing a new pad of gauze to his wound a little too firmly for it not to be intentional. Eddie just grits his teeth.
"Of course he is," Tommy murmurs. Eddie is too much of a coward to face up to whatever expression is on Tommy's face when he says it, so instead he focuses on the Incident Commander approaching Bobby.
"Site's been deemed too unstable," he announces. "No more personnel are to enter until we've found a way to stabilise it."
"My..." Bobby calms himself when his voice comes out in a growl. "My man is in there."
"And sending another man in there would be a suicide mission." The Incident Commander grimaces apologetically. "Sorry, Captain. That's an order."
Bobby turns his gaze back to the building, something so tightly drawn in him that it makes Eddie hurt all the worse. He knows without a shadow of a doubt what Bobby's thinking. He can't lose another son to a burning building.
And here, maybe this would be where Eddie runs back into the building and drags Buck out all on his own, maybe this would be where he finally gets to repay the favour for the gravel burn on his back, maybe this is where he'd get to redeem himself from the helplessness he'd felt just lowering Buck down to the ground. Except. There's a rebar in his side. Even with the adrenaline, even with the love... Eddie doesn't think he'd make it three steps before falling to his knees—a prayer in and of itself.
Instead, Eddie turns to look at Tommy. Tommy who is already looking at him, something determined and understanding and loving trapped behind the wildness of his eyes. A beat passes between them, silence saying more than they ever could.
"Bring him back to—" Me. But. Not to me.
Because that's not Eddie's place anymore. Eddie doesn't get to ask that of Buck's boyfriend. Eddie doesn't get to ask that at all. He's no longer the person that will be shaking Buck's pain pills into his hand and fetching him a bottle of water. He's no longer the person that will be wrapping Buck's cast in a bin bag for a shower and listening to him lament about the indignity of it. He's no longer the person that will be pulling Buck out of bed on his worst days to remind him that he's real and valued and loved. No, that's not his job anymore. But, fuck, Tommy's the only better man for the job.
"Bring him back to us," Eddie tells him then, and it feels like he's finally let go of the baton in the relay race, sure Tommy's got a hold of it now. And Tommy looks as wrongfooted by this as Eddie feels, but he nods anyway and grabs Eddie's discarded helmet from his lap, strapping it on.
"Kinard, no one goes in," Bobby warns him. "That's an order."
"You're not my captain anymore." Tommy only smiles and shrugs before sprinting towards the doors.
Bobby curses, but there's relief in it. Hen and Chim just watch him go with something hopeful on their faces. And Eddie. Eddie's eyes start to droop.
"Hey, hey, Eddie." Chim snaps his fingers in front of his face, jolting Eddie back into semi-consciousness.
"Eddie, we need to get you to a hospital," Hen says calmly, reaching for the brakes.
"Move me an inch and I rip this rebar out of my side," he says lowly.
"Jesus, anyone ever tell you you're a drama queen?" Chim huffs.
"Yeah." Eddie chokes on his next breath a little. "The man trapped in that building."
A solemn silence settles over them then. They redirect their attention to the doors Tommy had disappeared into, and Hen lays a grounding hand on his shoulder as they wait.
It's not long before Tommy comes stumbling out of the building, looking every bit the action hero Eddie has never gotten to be for Buck what with his soot-stained face and Buck himself slung over his shoulder, splinted leg bouncing against his sternum. Hen and Bobby spring into action immediately, racing to meet them. Chim just unlocks Eddie's gurney and loads him into the ambulance, raising him up just enough to catch a perfect view of Tommy lowering Buck onto his own stretcher with a kiss to his forehead. The ambulance doors close, Chim knocks twice, the sirens begin to whine, and they lurch into motion.
"Did you draw the drama queen straw?" Eddie asks to distract himself from the tenderness of Tommy's kiss.
"Higher ups are a little more serious about conflicts of interest now Buck is officially my brother-in-law," Chim mumbles as he works on getting Eddie's IV in. "But also I'm better acquainted with rebars than Hen, so..."
Eddie huffs a weak laugh as his eyes drift to the ceiling, the clean white of it stinging his eyes.
"Chim?"
"Yeah?"
"Tomorrow isn't promised to anyone, right?" he chokes out. He doesn't take his eyes off the ceiling, but the sudden silence in the ambulance is as deafening as the siren overhead.
"No," Chim says eventually. "No, it's not."
"But what happens if the person you love..." Here, his voice breaks. An almighty crack right through the middle. It sounds like the building behind them just came crumbling down in his throat. "What happens if someone told them first?" He turns to face Chim's wide eyes. "Should you still tell them?"
"I-I don't know..." Chim opens his mouth a few times, a fish out of water, before he makes a decision. He takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders. "But what I do know is." He clears his throat. "If you let a wound like that fester... It'll kill you, Eddie."
"Yeah." Eddie lets his eyes fall shut.
I can feel it already.
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miyacults · 3 months
Note
begging on my hands and knees for a sequel to the daddy gojo fic but w sugu please please please
a/n: my dear nonnie this is less than u actually deserve but i hope it fuels the stsg daddy agenda im pushing here.
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violet, blue, green, red to keep me out… i win.
( ft. suguru geto. )
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Suguru’s nowhere near salvation—soul too damned to expect something else—yet his heart aches, breaks, and cries blood at the mere thought of not deserving you. He might have made a path down the cursed side of being a Sorcerer with Satoru next to him, making the best of his efforts on keeping you away from that devilish facade of his you haven’t seen yet, and although he’s the one to blame when you finally do, well—he can’t hide anymore. That’s the price that comes with being one of the Strongests.
< part one.
wc: 3k (proofread? probably not)
cw: [ 18+ explicit content minors dni ] technically this is part two of a gojo fic (linked above) but can be read individually so no biggie. fem reader (female bodied). teacher!suguru meaning he did not deflect here okay, we’re living a happy life away from the pain. first one was gojo action so this is for geto action only but poly satosugu is clearly implied, that’s the whole point of this basically hehe. daddy kink and daddy dynamic so be very careful! minimal to no prep. unprotected sex. p in v sex. mentions of blood. mentions of death. these two pamper reader too much so reader’s a little spoiled but in the good way. geto is a sweet pretty much. if i forgot anything to put here lemme know. enjoy! <3~
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From time to time, Suguru wonders about his soul in genuine distress. Perhaps out of guilt and worry and only in moments like these—well past midnight with bloodied nuckles and heavy footsteps echoing through thin walls, dragging himself up the stairs of the palatial home he and Satoru bought together, with nothing but a familiar sense of anxiety building in his chest. But it’s not like his personal cup of remorse is filled with all the haunting thoughts of the bad things he has done and seen in his life thanks to his sinister line of work, or as if such awful thoughts could actually pull some strings within his untainted heart—because that’s far from being the case.
It’s just—it’s just who he is. The blessing and the curse of being a Sorcerer, of swallowing venom as a whole to save the lives of those who live an ignorant bliss.
White marble stains in scarlet as he approaches his bedroom in silence, mind reflecting on the fact that things should be good now, that everything’s fine and danger has been erased. Any man in love would have handled the situation in the exact way he did, wouldn’t they? He wonders about this, too, quite frequently, and he hates to admit that the question lingers on his brain for far too long for his own liking. It makes him dread the fact that he’s not doing a good job in taking care of you.
Yet it doesn’t matter, as Suguru already knows the answer better than anyone—and he doesn’t qualify much for the kind-hearted-person term (or so he’s been thinking since the last blossom of his youth and the tragedies that showered his naive teen years catches him off guard). But he really doesn’t want to either, because then that would mean that he can’t successfully protect the thing he cares about the most in the world. And he can’t let that happen.
But the look Satoru shoots at him as soon as he opens his bedroom door and finds him sitting comfortably in the wide couch—awaiting his return, as usual—has him breathing correctly again, mind turning back from unwanted ideas that bother him to no end.
“You got busy tonight, huh,” Satoru murmurs quietly, head lolling to the side while scanning his best friend’s tired figure.
“I took care of the scum,”
“And didn’t invite?”
Suguru’s lips turn into a devious smirk, heavy body finally falling between the many soft pillows his large bed has.
“Princess was so upset, needed you to stay by her side,” he resolves quite calmly, dried blood forcing a horrid contrast to his charming features. “If I’m not there to hold her, then you must,”
There’s a silent warning to his words, and Satoru doesn’t have to make an effort to catch it immediately. He already knows it by heart, he always has—he always will.
“She couldn’t stop crying for over an hour anyway,” he ends up retorting sharply instead, hoarse voice weighing a tone of suppressed anger. “Hope you gave the bastard a merciless death,”
How couldn’t he after what he did to you?
The day had started quiet, tranquil—the week itself abnormally peaceful for them. Maybe it was the fleeing summer coercing the unpleasant job of Sorcerers into days of calm, long work hours slowing down and making them believe they couldn’t relax a little bit. So they decided that it would be a good idea to take you to that new coffee shop in Shinjuku you were dying to go lately. And it was fine, of course, you were incredible happy to be outside the walls of home as you hold hands with both them in a sea of smiley people.
Until it wasn’t.
That desolated look on your face when you found yourself trapped into the arms of some Curse User seeking vengeance towards them—Suguru memorized it, because it caused him some undescribable pain he couldn’t possibly explain even if he tried to. His heart shattered into a million tiny pieces at the sight of gleaming tears drying in your cheeks and the sound of broken sobs, garbled whimpers of their names coming out of parted lips as you held onto nothing for balance, unable to stop yourself from breaking down at the fear, the horror, the trepidation it forced your body into a shock.
He couldn’t prevent what happened after they took you back and he tried to calm you down by placing you in Satoru’s lap, hurriedly murmuring something about making it right. It’s gonna be okay, princess, you’re gonna be okay. He won’t hurt you ever again. I’m here to protect you.
Maybe—just maybe—you heard the strained tone that bathed his words in that moment. And maybe you didn’t understand it right away, or maybe you didn’t want to.
Because Suguru has always been there to make things right, and nothing else has to matter when he and Satoru are there to protect you from the dangers of the world.
Like they have devoted themselves to do.
Suguru doesn’t remember the exact time you came into his life—he doesn’t really care to, because he knows you’ve pretty much always been there. He has no idea where do his memories begin or end at, but the teary-doe look of your face has been plaguing the tissues of his brain for so long now he can’t find himself to remember a time where it hasn’t been there.
He remembers his first day at Jujutsu High, during the spring of him being fifteen and you a little less than that, when he saw you adverting everyone’s gaze as you walked behind your mother (an assistant director, of all things) towards the offices in silence—floral dress wrinkly as you seated in some chair and patiently waited for your mom to finish off her work. No complaints but with a huge pout, bored to death.
He remembers the first time Satoru made you cry by telling you you were a weak nuisance (and how he shortly laughed at that), and he remembers the sickening feeling of nausea that infected his stomach shortly after—and he remembers how it didn’t disappeared until he handed you a beverage from the machines and you smiled at him like none of them ever harmed you in the first place.
He remembers you admiring your mother’s ivory dress the day she married principal Yaga, and he remembers the way he took your hand into his to give you a little bit of courage as you and Satoru walked down the aisle side by side, carrying the rings of the newlyweds.
He remembers the winter of Satoru’s eighteenth birthday, when the white-haired man accidentally dropped a box full of the school’s Christmas decorations over you, making you trip down the stairs and hurt your ankle. He remembers the tears that stained his posh pajama pants when you shouted at him—immediately, instantly—crying out his name and seeking comfort. He also remembers the way Satoru moved around you like a lighting bolt, reaching and lifting you up in his arms before Suguru could arrive. Soothing sweet words into your ear, kissing your cheek as he darted a glare in his direction.
He remembers that they both shared the same thought at that moment, even though it was never vocalized.
He remembers how you have always made him feel this sick—as if you’re infesting his body and refusing to let him cure himself off you at all. He remembers because the feeling doesn’t really stops, never has, probably never will, and he has now grow a little too familiar with the lingering explosion of things that do make him feel alive bubbling in his chest. He’s now used to you setting his soul on fire and making him sick.
But it’s special, nonetheless. A sugary sweet method of inflicting pain—as Satoru likes to say.
Because Suguru Geto is not exactly a good person by his own perspective—but he likes to believe he’s a good man to both you and Satoru, for selfish that could be. The kind of man that puts your safety and well-being on top of anything else, the one that ensures both of your happiness above his own. He’s the type of man that allows some of his darkest desires to die in a fire, following what he believes is the right thing to do.
Suguru’s nowhere near salvation—soul too damned to expect something else—yet his heart aches, breaks, and cries blood at the mere thought of not deserving you. He might have made a path down the cursed side of being a Sorcerer with Satoru next to him, making the best of his efforts on keeping you away from that devilish facade of his you haven’t seen yet, and although he’s the one to blame when you finally do, well—he can’t hide anymore. That’s the price that comes with being one of the Strongests.
“Sugu?”
He can hear it clearly, so vivid and bright and sweet it makes him terribly sick all of a sudden. Singsong and gently voice, coated in saccharine sugar echoing through his ears as the most enthralling tone wraps around his name like a prayer, the deliberately long uttering of ‘Sugu’ forcing the curves of his lips to fall abruptly, his heart stopping without notice and an invisible punch to the guts knocking all the air out of his lungs.
“‘Toru, Daddy, where are you?”
Suguru waits—pretends he doesn’t really care as your footsteps sound closer, closer, closer, and his posture maintains, seemingly calm, apparently unbothered, somewhat bored. But, oh, Satoru knows.
Satoru knows as he sits by his side on the obsidian sectional sofa, with legs crossed and arms splayed over the border, that his best friend’s mind is going on a haze, a brand new sense of anxiety crawling under his skin like a thousand bugs eating him alive. Satoru’s almost certain, he’s sure that if he gets a little closer, the violent sounds of Suguru’s heart pounding in alarming violence against his ribs would cause him physical pain. It puts him on edge; the mere thought of his best friend’s reaction at what’s about to happen now.
If it were him, he wouldn’t care. He hadn’t care in the past, actually. Satoru has always been more than happy to let you near the side of him that glows closer to hell than heaven itself.
But Suguru is different, he thinks.
“She’s supposed to be sleeping,” Suguru stares at him blankly, a hint of irritation in his voice. “It’s long past midnight, and she gets all cranky in the morning every time she stays up,”
“She was sleeping,” Satoru stands up, a sigh sliding past his lips while moving to the bedroom door. “But you already know how she gets if she wakes up for water and is all alone in bed. She gets all needy,”
Suguru raises an eyebrow.
“And who’s fault is that, huh?”
“It’s not polite to finger-point, Suguru.”
Both of them stay silent for a bit, carefully paying attention to your sounds. Suguru tuts his tongue when he hears you calling his name near the bathroom hall.
“I’m too bloodied for her to see me like this,”
“Clearly. Just stay there, lemme—,” Satoru scoffs, opening the door and then closing it behind him swiftly before you can catch a glimpse of the inside. “Oi, sweets, what do you think you’re doing out of bed?”
“But ‘Toru,” you complain in a hushed whine. “You left me alone, you know I don’t like that. It didn’t felt warm anymore,”
Suguru can’t see you—all he has is a muffled sound of your distorted voice, and he swears he knows exactly the way your lips are pushing the loveliest pout to ever exist, the way you’re looking at Satoru through sleepy eyelashes as you put your little complaint out.
And he also knows Satoru might have rolled his eyes playfully at the sight, pulling you closer to steal a kiss from your frowned lips.
“So needy, my baby is so needy,”
“Is Suguru not home yet?” you ask slowly, perhaps setting your groggy eyes into Satoru, staring at him with that enamored look they both know too well.
“Do you want Daddy?”
“Yeah, I do,” you snort.
“I’m your Daddy and I’m home, so,”
“I want both,” you giggle softly, so sweetly Suguru can feel his insides melt at the sound of your bubbling laugh.
He’s sure Satoru has you entangled in a hug, probably sneaking his hands all over your body and tickling your sides to pull a smile.
“Oh, your dumb Daddy, too. Alright. I dunno where he is, sweets,” Satoru states, as if.
“How mean, ‘Toru.”
“Excuse me? What did you just call me?”
“Mean. You’re lying to me.”
Suguru smirks at that. He stands up from the bed and walks towards the door to open it and find you both in the exact position he predicted.
And the look you shoot his way, the frown that forms in your face and your pretty features contract in sudden worry when his frame appears in front of you—it all has his heart pounding like crazy, he feels so loved, he feels so full of you. He feels insatiable.
“Oh,” you let out a little squeal as you shift from Satoru’s embrace and into his, “Sugu, you—”
“Don’t worry much about this, princess,” he mumbles, catching you inside his arms like the world depends on it. “I’m okay.”
But he’s sure you’re crying anyway.
And you don’t even stop to think about the blood. You don’t even care that he reeks of death and violence and Curses as you hold onto him for dear life, with arms that wrap tightly around him and pull him closer, closer, even closer; as lips caress the skin of his neck and little mewls echoe softly against his throat. Pants of I love you, I don’t want anything bad happening to you, I love you, fueling his mind like a bomb ready to launch.
Satoru laughs it off with a devious smile.
“Poor baby, you have her worried sick, Suguru,” he falsely chides. “Guess you gotta make it up to her.”
“Uh-huh,” Suguru nods. “My poor princess, do you want Daddy to make it alright?”
You nod in between heavy breaths, head still buried in his neck. Satoru gives a soft slap to your ass whimsically.
“So needy,” the Strongest murmurs, but he rapidly turns away and aims for the stairs. “I’m gonna go find a snack though, I’m starving. And then I’m gonna prepare a bath so you both can meet me there in a bit,”
Suguru nods.
“Go on. Let me take this princess to bed in the mean time, then we meet you in the bathtub,”
Suguru takes you to his large bed and places you in the middle of many soft pillows cooing in your ear to wash the concern out of you, but you’re reluctant. You cup his face and scan him looking for wounds, soon realizing the ugly streaks of scarlet that stain his face are, in fact, not his. But even then you don’t flinch. Instead, you let your hands wander all over his chest—desperate to pull him into you, to merge your bodies and never letting him go, never separated.
“Oh?” Suguru smiles at your scattered words. There’s still blinks of sleep tugging at your tired eyes, and he can’t help but fondle your face cautiously. “Are we merging with Satoru too, hm?”
You nod, sulky little look fighting sleepiness with all you got.
“Of course, Daddy, always with ‘Toru,”
“That’s right, princess. Always with Satoru,”
You inhale a deep breath. It’s easy for Suguru to notice every little thing about you, so he caught up on your train of thoughts before yourself. You were struggling with some words, biting your lip, eyelashes fluttering, thinking hard about something.
“What is it, baby?” He wonders carefully, hot breath colliding with your face, nose caressing the soft skin of your cheeks as he inhales your scent.
“Did you do a bad thing, Sugu?”
The question lingers on his brain for a few seconds, mind resisting on reflecting such thoughts. Yet his expression doesn’t change, he maintains serenity as the brush of skin above yours doesn’t stop. He holds you like a priced possession, like your mere existence could ever absolve the decaying all Sorcerers are damned to. Like you could kiss him and save him, like you could hug him and guard him—as if you could turn blood into holy water or death into salvation.
Maybe you can.
“Will you still love me if I did?” He asks, not dreading the answer.
“I will never stop loving you, Daddy,”
It ignites his body. Fire burns at his fists and he kisses you deeply, mouths meeting around a new heat, with tongues slipping and teeth clashing desperately. He has no intention of letting you catch a break, mouth falling to your neck where he bites at the sensitive skin and causes you to mewl.
“Ow, Suguru, that’s mean,” you grumble, but you part your bare legs anyway when his hands drop and brush at your thighs.
“Can’t help it, princess,” he press a chaste kiss to your lips once more. “You gonna let me play a little with this pretty pussy, yeah?” The words flee his throat in a raspy tone, and his hands don’t stop. He hikes up that oversized cashmere sweater, that can only belong to Satoru, barely above the line of your lacey black panties, enough for him graze it and get a glimpse of your puffy lips against the fabric, awaiting for him. Suguru traces a finger along your cunt, causing you to shiver at the cold digits. “How gorgeous,”
You pant. “But—The bath, Sugu,”
“He can wait a little,” he says into your mouth “Gonna make you feel really good, princess,” he breathes heavily, rocking his hip a little as a thumb strikes tenderly your cunt through your panties.
And he notices right away—in the way you shiver under his touch when he hovers completely above you, how a breathless sigh escapes past your parted lips and your fists grab a handful of his shoulders to attach yourself onto him and make his bulge nudge your cunt. He repeats the motion a few times, mouth leaving stray kisses in your neck and already throbbing cock humping your covered pussy through his pants.
“Sugu,” you whine at one particularly hard thrust of his hips, involuntary loud moan reverberating from the back of your throat. “‘Toru,”
“Shh, princess,”
Suguru is fast at parting your panties to the side, and he says there’s no need for prepping you tonight, says it’s gonna be real quick so you can both go back to Satoru—with his cock an angry shade of red as its released free from his trousers and it aims for your tiny hole fast, thrusting in one go. You’re whimpering at how fast it happens, cunt burning at the sudden intrusion since he is usually the one that takes his time to properly prep you to take his cock.
You guess he’s feeling off, so you happily comply if that’ll help him.
“Want you, Sugu, I need you,”
“Ah-ah, my good girl,” he grunts lightly, hands steadying you by the ass as he finally bottoms out. “Can you keep doing that for me? Can you be a good girl?”
A loud hiss vibrates through clenched teeth as you wrap your legs around his hips, head nodding many forms of yes as you inch closer to him in distress.
“That’s it baby, take it pretty,”
“H-Hurts a little, Sugu,” you murmur softly, eyes glued to where he’s slowly sliding in and out.
“I know princess,” he pants. “Give it a minute,” He’s practically caging you shortly after, thrusting up roughly as stretched out walls wrap him and suck him deeply. You’re not given a chance to recover or adjust properly, but the burning does start to fade away. Discomfort grows into pleasure and whimpers turn into soft moans as you bury your face on his neck and his hot breath collides sharply against the shell of your ear. “You’re so brave, my good girl. So pretty, my princess,”
You lift your hips to meet his thrusts, dainty fingers digging the flesh of his shoulders when he grunts. And it doesn’t take long for tears to collect in your eyes as heat floods your body once again, the familiar throb of your clit making you aggravate the hump of your hips so your swollen bud finds a little bit of friction. Suguru doesn’t fail to turn you into a needy mess, strong hand coming to cover the cries emitting from your mouth.
Muffled chants of Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, alongside his hoarse grunts and the lewd slap of skin against skin are the only sounds that fly the room when he cums—bruising fingers grasping your flesh harshly as he paints your walls white, and nearly immediately you’re creaming all over the tip of his sensitive cock firmly pressed against your cervix.
“Not leaving you baby,” he pants out. “Not leaving you at all.”
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