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#{ i hope you don't mind me continuing on from the ask :> }
br0kenangel · 2 days
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𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ PREY 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀
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Pairing: Serial Killer Aegon x Victim Reader
Summary: you just wanted to enjoy the night with your best friend and getting fucked. But what was waiting for you was much more scary than anything you had ever expected...
Warning: kidnapping, blood, abuse, unwanted touch, murder.
˚꒰♡꒱‧ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!
Original Gif by @lady-alicent ♡
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The mirror gleamed back at Y/N as she carefully applied the finishing touches to her makeup, the sleek red dress clinging to her curves in all the right ways. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, the silky strands catching the light of the vanity. Tonight, she was going to be unstoppable. On speaker, her best friend Emily's voice filled the room, excitement buzzing between them as they planned their night out.
"Girl, I swear, tonight's the night. I will get laid" Emily laughed, the sound infectious, pulling a giggle from Y/N.
"Are you sure, though? You've been talking about this for weeks. Are you finally going to get with Tom?" Y/N teased, brushing some highlighter across her cheekbones.
"Hell yeah! I'm gonna fuck his brains out!" Emily declared dramatically, causing both of them to erupt into laughter. "But what about you? Don't think I didn't see how Oliver was staring at you last time. That man is ready to risk it all."
Y/N smirked, lining her lips with a deep crimson. "Oh, Oliver won't know what hit him tonight" she winked at herself in the mirror, confident. "By the end of this party, he's going to be begging."
Emily cackled, making another inappropriate joke that had Y/N snorting, her mascara brush shaking slightly in her hand. "God, Emily, you're gonna make me mess up my makeup."
"I cant help it, you're gonna make himー"
Suddenly, Y/N froze mid-laugh. In the corner of her eye, she caught something ーa shadow shiftingby the window, just out of her line of sight. Her heart skipped, an eerie prickle crawling up her spine.
"What's wrong?" Emily's voice came through the phone, concern creeping into her playful tone.
Y/N blinked, her eyes darting around the room. Everything was still. Quiet. The only sound was Emily's distant voice on the phone. She let out a breath, forcing smile as if it could push away the unease settling in her gut. "Nothing, I just thought I saw something."
"Probably just your nerves. You've got Oliver on the brain too much!" Emily teased, bringing the conversation back to its lightheartedness.
"Yeah, you're right," Y/N muttered, trying to shake off the strange feeling. She continued applying her makeup, but every now and then, her gaze flicked back to the window. That uneasy chill hadn't left, a quiet whisper in her mind that something wasn't quite right. But it was probably nothing.
At least, that's what she told herself.
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The night was pitch black, the only light coming from the dim glow of Y/N’s headlights as they cut through the lonely, desolate road. Trees stretched out on either side, their branches twisting together to form a canopy of shadows. The once lively conversation with Emily had died down to a nervous exchange of directions as Y/N found herself completely lost in the maze of unfamiliar back roads.
"Are you sure this is the right way?" Y/N asked, her voice tight with frustration, gripping the wheel a little too hard. The GPS had stopped working a while ago, leaving her utterly reliant on Emily’s instructions.
“I swear, Y/N, it’s the right way! Just keep going straight, and you’ll see a sign soon, I promise,” Emily’s voice reassured her, though it did little to calm the rising anxiety bubbling in her chest.
Straight. That’s all she had to do. But the road seemed endless, stretching out in front of her like a void, each passing second growing thicker with unease. Y/N glanced around, her stomach flipping as the dark woods loomed over her. It felt like something was watching from the trees.
"Emily, I don’t see anything—" Y/N began, but her words were cut off in a scream as a figure suddenly appeared from the darkness, leaping in front of her car.
THUD.
The impact jolted her entire body forward, the screech of brakes cutting through the stillness as the car skidded to a halt. Y/N’s heart was racing, pounding so hard she could barely breathe. The world outside was silent again, but the deafening thud of the hit echoed in her ears, over and over.
“Y/N? Y/N! What the hell just happened?!” Emily’s voice was frantic, but Y/N barely heard her.
She stared ahead, wide-eyed, her hands trembling on the wheel. What just happened? Did I hit him? Did I just… kill someone?
Her throat was dry as she swallowed, trying to steady herself. "I… I think I hit someone. I’m not sure." Her voice was shaky, barely above a whisper.
“What?! Are you okay?! What happened?” Emily’s voice was nearly drowned out by the ringing in Y/N’s ears, her panic rising with every passing second. Y/N’s hands moved to unbuckle her seatbelt, her body feeling as if it was moving on autopilot. "I need to check. I’ll call you back."
“What? No, wait—” Y/N hung up, her mind spinning with terror as she opened the door and stepped out into the suffocating darkness. The wind was cool, but her skin prickled with cold sweat. The night was unnaturally quiet, save for the rapid beating of her heart in her ears.
Her eyes landed on the crumpled figure lying in the road just ahead, and her stomach lurched. She could barely see him in the dim light of her car’s headlights, his body twisted at an unnatural angle. Every instinct screamed for her to run, but her feet moved forward, her breath shallow.
She knelt beside the man, her hands trembling as she reached out. "Hey… Hey, are you okay?" Her voice cracked, almost pleading. She shook his shoulder gently, her breath catching in her throat. Please don’t be dead. Please, God, don’t be dead.
He didn’t respond, his body limp. Y/N’s heart plummeted. For a horrifying moment, she thought she’d killed him. I hit him, I really hit him. What if he’s dead? What if I—
But then she noticed it—his chest, rising and falling slowly. He was still breathing.
Y/N let out a shaky breath, a wave of relief crashing over her. "Oh, thank God…" she muttered, her hands moving to check for any sign of consciousness. "Hey, can you hear me? You’re gonna be okay, I’ll get you help. Just hang on."
Her voice was trembling as she stood, rushing back to the car to grab her phone. Her hands fumbled with the door handle, her pulse pounding in her ears. She had to call for help. Get him to the hospital.
But just as she reached into the car for her phone, something hard and solid slammed into the back of her head.
Pain exploded through her skull, white-hot and blinding. Her vision blurred instantly, the world spinning as her body crumpled to the ground. Her mind scrambled to make sense of what was happening, but all she could register was the unbearable, crushing pain.
She tried to blink away the darkness closing in around her, her breaths ragged and desperate, but the force of the blow had knocked her senses loose. Through the dizzy haze, she saw him—the man she had just hit, standing above her with a rock in his hand. The sickening realization crashed into her like a freight train.
It was a trap.
Her heart raced, adrenaline surging through her, but her limbs felt heavy, numb. She wanted to scream, to fight, but her vision was dimming, the pain dragging her under. The last thing she saw before everything went black was the man’s cold, emotionless face, looming over her as she slipped into the abyss.
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Y/N's consciousness flickered like a dying flame, dragging her unwillingly from the void. The pain in her head was the first thing she registered-an unbearable, spliting agony that pulsed in time with her heartbeat, making her feel like her skull was about to crack open. She groaned, but the sound came out muffled, trapped behind something in her mouth. Panic started to set in as she realized she couldn't open her jaw; the taste of dirty fabric filled her mouth. A gag.
Disoriented, she blinked slowly, trying to make sense of where she was. Her vision was blurry, her surroundings a nauseating haze of darkness and shadow. Everything reeked. The stench hit her all at once- thick, putrid, suffocating. It was a mix of urine, sweat, blood, and something far more decayed. The smell clawed at the back of her throat, making her gag against the cloth. She fought back the urge to vomit, knowing it would only choke her.
Her body felt... wrong. Heavy. Aching. Every muscle was sore, every inch of her skin stung with a dull, throbbing pain. When she tried to move, she realized why: she was tied up. Her arms were bound tightly behind her back, the coarse rope biting into her wrists and cutting off circulation. Her legs were bound too, her ankles tied together so tightly she could barely wiggle her toes.
Where the hell am I? The last thing she remembered was... the man. The man she had hit. Her heart jumped into her throat, the memory rushing back to her all at once一the impact, the body on the road, the moment of relief when she realized he was still breathing. And then... then he had attacked her. Everything went black after that. And now I'm here.
Her breath quickened as she took in her surroundings. The room was small, cramped, with walls so grimy she could barely tell their original color. Blood smeared the walls in splatters and streaks, both fresh and old, the sickening reminder of whatever horrors had taken place here before. There were stains on the floor, dark, sticky patches that made her skin crawl. And then she noticed the other things一flesh, torn and hanging like trophies from hooks. Bones, carelessly strewn on the floor, cracked and splintered. She wanted to scream, but the gag silenced her, the terror building in her chest until it felt like she might suffocate on it.
But she wasn't alone.
In the dim light, she saw them-other women. At least five of them, maybe more. All of them were bound like her, gagged, naked, their bodies bruised and filthy. Some of them were barely conscious, their heads lolling weakly, while others stared at her with wide, terrified eyes. There was something about their expressions that sent ice shooting down her spine-those hollow, desperate eyes, like animals resigned to their fate.
One of them, a woman with tear-streaked cheeks and a gag so tight it had rubbed her mouth raw, met Y/N's gaze. She shook her head slowly, almost imperceptibly, her eyes full of warning. It was as if she was trying to tell her something, something Y/N didn't yet understand. Don't move. Don't fight. Don't make a sound.
But Y/N wasn't like them. She couldn't just sit here and wait to die. Fear surged through her veins, but so did adrenaline. She had to get out. I have to get out.
Slowly, carefully, she began to squirm, trying to shift her weight without making too much noise. Every movement was agonyーher wrists felt like they were being sliced open by the ropes, and her muscles screamed in protest. But she didn't stop. She couldn't. If she stayed here, she was dead.
As she inched her way toward the door, the other women watched her, their eyes filling with fresh tears, their bodies trembling as they silently begged her stop. But she couldn't stop. She had to get free. She had to.
The closer she got to the door, the more hope flickered inside her-until she fell. Her hands slipped, and her body hit the floor with a dull thud. She landed in something wet and slimy, the smell assaulting her senses immediately. It was a disgusting mix of rotting food, excrement, and something else- something thick and foul that clung to her skin and made her gag. Her stomach churned violently, the bile rising in her throat, but she swallowed it down, focusing on the door just a few feet away.
But then the door creaked open.
The sound was slow, deliberate, and it filled the room like a death knell, Y/N froze, her heart hammering in her chest, her body tensing as the dim light from the hall spilled into the room.
He stepped inside.
The man. The same man she had hit with her car. He stood in the doorway, his silhouette tall and menacing, his face twisted into a sickening grin. His eyes scanned the room, and when they landed on Y/N, his expression darkened. Rage boiled just beneath the surface of his face, twisting his features into something monstrous.
"What do we have here?" he muttered, his voice low and dangerous.
Before Y/N could even try to scramble away, he was on her. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her up, dragging her across the filthy floor as she screamed against the gag. Pain shot through her scalp, white-hot and unbearable, but the terror that gripped her heart was even worse. He was going to kill her. He was going to kill her right now.
"You stupid, stupid girl" he hissed, his voice thick with venom as he dragged her back to where she'd been. "You thought you could just leave? You thought you could escape?" He threw her down onto the cold floor, kicking her hard in the stomach for good measure.
The breath was knocked from her lungs, and for a moment, everything went dark. She gasped for air, her body convulsing in pain, but she couldn't get enough oxygen. Her vision blurred, her mind spinning with fear and panic. This is it. I'm going to die.
"You should be thankful l'm not going to punish you further;" he spat, kneeling down beside her, his breath hot and rancid against her face. "You're new. I'm feeling generous today."
Y/N's body shook uncontrollably as she lay there, too weak and terrified to move. But then, just as quickly as the anger had come, his expression changed. The rage melted away, replaced by something far more sinister. His hand, still tangled in her hair, began to stroke her scalp gently, his voice softening as if he hadn't just brutalized her.
"I'm sorry" he whispered, his tone dripping with faux concern. "I didn't mean to hurt you. You just made me so... angry. it's your fault, you know? If you hadn't tried to leave.." His fingers trailed down her neck, his touch lingering on her skin as he murmured, "You're so beautiful. So.. perfect."
"Soft," he murmured, as though admiring the texture of fabric instead of skin. He leaned in closer, inhaling deeply as he buried his face in her hair, his breath warm and sickening against her skin. "You smell so good... You're going to make the perfect doll."
Y/N's mind spun with confusion and horror. Doll? What did that mean? She wanted to scream, to thrash and fight, but her body felt like it was frozen, paralyzed by fear and exhaustion. Her tears welled up, spilling down her cheeks as she trembled beneath his touch.
Y/N's breath caught in her throat as his hand slid lower, caressing her naked body with possessive, almost reverent strokes. His fingers traced the curve of her breast, the dip of her waist, the swell of her hips. He was taking his time, savoring the touch, the control, the power. Y/N felt sick, her stomach twisting in knots as she lay there, helpless, her mind screaming for it to stop. But she couldn't Scream. She couldn't move.
"You're going to be perfect" he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear. "Just... perfect."
She wanted to disappear, to sink into the floor and never exist again. But all she could do was lie there, paralyzed by fear and disgust, as he continued to touch her. His hands roamed over her body, his breath hot and heavy against her skin. Every touch felt like fire, burning into her flesh, marking her. She could feel his excitement, his anticipation, and it made her want to vomit.
Then, suddenly, he stood up.
“Not today" he said, smiling down at her with a look of twisted affection. "Today isn't your day."
Y/N's stomach lurched as she realized what he meant. Not her day. But soon. Her tears blurred her vision, her entire body shaking uncontrollably as she tried to scream through the gag. She couldn't stop the sob that broke through, muffled but desperate.
He laughed softly, brushing her hair out of her face with a gentleness that felt like a mockery of kindness. "Shhh" he cooed, "don't cry. You'll ruin your pretty face. And I love your face."
Before she knows it, the man turned his attention to one of the other women-a blonde who had been sitting silently in the corner, her eyes wide with terror. Without a word, he grabbed her by the hair, yanking her to her feet with a sickening cruelty. The woman's body convulsed in terror, her eyes filling with tears as she let out a muffled scream behind her gag.
She struggled weakly, her limbs trembling, but it was no use. He dragged her toward the door, pulling her like a rag doll, her body limp with fear. She was looking at her. Like a lamb. Wide eyes. Begging for help. But Y/N couldn't do anything.
Y/N watched in horror as the door slammed shut behind them. The remaining women in the room sobbed softly, the sound of their crying mixing with Y/N's own frantic breaths.
Then the noise began.
The sound of metal on flesh, a sharp, wet thwack followed by a crunch that made Y/N's blood run cold. The woman's faint cries echoed through the walls, but they were quickly drowned out by the sickening sound of the ax splitting flesh and bone. The rhythm was steady, methodical, like someone chopping wood ーonly it wasn't wood. lt was human.
Y/N closed her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe. All she could do was wait, knowing that soon... it would be her turn.
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Should I make a part 2?
@ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.
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moonydustx · 2 days
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response to this request @i0fty I loved your request (I have a thing for writing hurt/comfort and angst). I really hope you like it. I wrote it as f!reader, but I can adjust it if I want
warnings: F!Reader is attacked, mention of celestial dragons, Law and she have feelings for each other and it's obvious, Law saves F!Reader
one piece masterlist
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As soon as you set foot on that island, you knew there was something strange, something that sent a chill down your spine. It would be a short break to stock up on some emergency supplies and head towards the next island, which was larger and would have more interesting information for your crew.
Even so, some crewmates and your captain, Law, disembarked next to you.
"So, do you need a lot of things?" Law tried to make conversation, seeing you take a small map out of your pocket and point to something he could barely understand.
"I needed some lemongrass herbs. I saw they sell them here, but they are expensive, however, given the climate of this island I think I can find some in this green area." You explained, seeing him nod and hand you a few more berris.
"Don't go far, it might not be safe. If you can find something to buy, buy it" he insisted, seeing you look around, apparently suspicious. "What it was?"
"Do you feel something strange in the air?" you asked and saw him repeat your gesture of checking the surrounding environment.
"Some residents seem a little scared." Shachi who had also disembarked scored.
"It could be our imagination, as well as some confusion that happened. Which would be a great attraction for the marine." Law explained as you walked behind him. "Be careful and don't get into any kind of trouble."
"Yes captain." even in uncoordinated unison, you responded together.
"And you, what are you going to explore?" you asked Law as the others scattered. "Not that there's much to do."
"Do you remember that old book about spirit hunters that you mentioned? I saw that there might be a copy around here."
"Bullshit! Are you going to buy it?" Law laughed lightly, almost imperceptibly when he saw your excitement.
"Just don't tell Bepo, he'll say I have favoritism in the crew." the captain pointed out. "If you finish early, meet me at the bookstore. It should be easy to find, I don't think there are many around here."
The promise of meeting him later made you excited. Your relationship with the captain was something different from your relationship with others - you shared games, reading and conversations until late at night. Sometimes, it was as if the two of you were in a little world of your own.
You even tried to use the money provided by Law but, in addition to being insufficient, the little shop had strange looks from all sides. The feeling on that island was of being spied on with every step taken, with every interaction.
Moving away from the small shopping center and without even entering the small forest that almost annexes the city, you found some bushes that you needed. It was simple to harvest them and tie them in a way to transport them without losing any leaves.
Before you could stand up and continue your journey to the bookstore, you felt something against your neck, but you were able to dodge it and roll to the other side. Finally standing up, she could see two men staring at you.
"I'm sorry, lady, but we have orders to take you." one of them warned and you bent down to reach the knife you had used to harvest, unfortunately not fast enough to feel something burn in your hand.
"What the fuck… You know what? I'm going to kill you" you left things aside and went out to fight them.
Even using everything you knew about fighting, trying to use all the blows that came to your mind, you still ended up getting hit more times, some of the blows you barely understood where they were coming from.
"What do you want with me?!" you shouted once again, being ignored.
The metallic taste on your lips indicated that the attack you suffered had been much stronger than you expected. Both the desire to fight and the fear itself caused your adrenaline to skyrocket, leaving you alert to any movement from the two men.
"You should save your efforts." one of them emphasized, the handcuffs on his hands made an annoying noise as they clashed together. "They will need you at full strength."
"And it's not like you're going to win alone." the other completed, stretching out the whip and hitting your arm squarely.
The sensation was something like an unexpected burn, but it wouldn't stop you from fighting, from returning to where you really belonged. Standing up, you advanced towards the shorter man, landing a few punches, enough for him to stagger a little and give you space to escape.
At least that's what you thought until you felt someone pull you back and the click of the handcuffs awakened your despair. No, you couldn't let yourself get carried away like that. How would your friends be? Would they ever see you serving as a doormat for one of those damned celestials?
"This is an aggressive one, just like they asked for." the man pressed his body to yours, in order to speak in your ear. "The guys up there, the big celestial dragons will like a piece like you. They'll hunt you, they'll hurt you and I'll get rich."
No matter how much you struggled, his grip grew even stronger against your body, while the other man got closer to try to cover your face. Perhaps desperation had prevented you from noticing some things around you, awareness hit you completely when the aggressive grip around your body became a gentle, almost protective touch. His voice hit you before your own perception.
"It's ok, I'm here now." Law let his hands run down your arms and he advanced towards the other man.
In another situation, Law would have fun tearing those bodies into pieces and watching them try to reorganize themselves. But this time it was different.
They had messed with one of his crew members, an intelligent aspiring doctor, who would know how to use any and all plants to her advantage, who was great at playing chess and had read a good part of Sora's stories - even if the last ones were by his invitation. She was the girl who laughed at anything while dying of shyness when someone pointed out an adjective to her. She was the girl he dreamed of getting some attention, but her scared eyes indicated that those bastards had hurt her and he couldn't let that go.
The first man - who Law hadn't changed places to reach you - soon fell to the ground, clearly unconscious.
"Where's the other one?" your voice was exasperated, as your eyes tried to hunt the other guy through some trees.
"Shachi and Penguin already took care of him." Law pointed out while looking for keys to the handcuff.
"W-we need ... W-we need to check!" the way your voice sounded urgent alerted Law, forcing him to get closer to you. "He can get help, they have whips and…"
"Hey!" He tried to call you, not having much success. When his hands found your face, Law saw you flinch. "Look at me, Shachi and Penguin already took care of this… Look at me!" he pulled your face back, seeing you want to dodge.
"But… T-they had whips... and handcuffs and they were going to t-take me to the c-celestial dragons." the words stumbled as they left your lips.
"They won't, I would never let them." Law insisted, seeing you nod, even though he knew the words wouldn't truly reach you.
"Let's go back to Polar Tang, what do you think?" he suggested and saw you nod practically in slow motion and remain silent.
As quickly as Law had transported you back to the submarine, the thoughts were faster than you could express.
It was difficult to process some things, you still had a hard time accepting that there were people who felt so superior to others that they chose random people to be hunted. You had heard of it, but you always thought of it as something far away from you, that it was just a scary story that would stay far away.
But there you were, feeling your wounds being cleaned by careful hands, extremely contrary to what you had felt just now.
"Please…" Law's voice came out almost like a sigh. "I need you to say something."
"What do you need?" Your eyes watched as Law left the tweezers with the cotton on the small tray next to him.
"You're too immersed in your own mind and I can tell you that's not a good thing." he explained and saw you rambling again, it was clear that something was wrong. "Please don't think just talk to me."
"I thought everything was lost, you know?" you began, feeling your eyes sting with tears. "I've never felt so scared."
"I told you, I would never let that happen." Law didn't hesitate as he ran his hand over your face, brushing away some tears that insisted on coming out. "And I promise this won't happen again."
"You're the captain, you have more things to worry about." a weak, almost inaudible laugh came out of you. "Do I really matter that much?"
"Much more than you think." he pointed out and saw you smile shyly. "I was in the bookstore and I started hearing some comments about missing people. They all had some kind of similarity to you… I know they are in different ways, but I felt scared like I haven't felt in a long time."
"What does that mean?"
"That I'm going to finish stitching up those wounds, I'm going to make you something to eat and after that, you won't be out of my sight anymore." he explained.
Even though you felt a slight discomfort in the wounds on your arm, you allowed your face to lean against his chest, your arms to wrap around him in a simple hug. His face lowered itself to the top of your head and a "I promise to always be here" was whispered in your embrace.
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backinmyphase · 10 hours
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Not my honeymoon
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Synopsis: A household of an arranged marriage with Gojo Satoru wasn't easy. And as the pressure from the higher ups was becoming more and more there was something to discuss. Your honeymoon.
Or: Satoru Gojo doesn't even know how attached he will grow to his wife yet.
Pairing: Gojo x reader, 3000 words
Not really satisfied with this but I hope you enjoy!
Series Masterlist!
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"Are you okay, Gojo?"
No, he was definitely not. He wasn't since all of this started. Since he was destined to marry you. But now as he looked at you it was a different kind of not okay.
What did he do???
You looked sad, no, devastated. Ever since you two ate breakfast together every morning, he thought you would look more relaxed. Maybe even comfortable.
But you seemed to put up a barrier everytime he asked something. And then there was the name.
You still called him Gojo. Even though you were now named the same.
You so carefully kept your distance and you had this sad look in your eyes.
He was worried.
"Yeah, of course." he returned to eating his breakfast. After a bit of silence he opened his mouth again and was surprised he could speak.
"Are you? You look tense."
Your body tensed up again as you looked at him and he wanted to punch himself. He made you uncomfortable, didn't he?
"I am, no worries." you didn't raise your head.
Where did his confidence go? His charisma? His social skills?
Something about his wife made all these so important and natural things dissappear.
The silence spoke loud and the sounds of the eating didn't cover enough of it.
This silence wasn't unusual. In fact it was almost always there when you ate breakfast together. So all the time you saw each other.
And no, he didn't like it. For some reason, on which Satoru couldn't put his finger on, he desperately wanted to know you. He wanted to make peace with you, maybe even be friends with you.
But you seemed so untouchable, he couldn't describe it.
"Well…" Satoru cringed at the sound of his voice. "I have to go to work now."
He stood up and made his way to the door where he made himself ready. "See you later. Have a nice da-"
"Wait, Gojo." Your voice sounded so hesitant, it scared him. "Can we talk later?"
As he looked at you, his whole mind went blank. He felt like he was gonna die. Why did you look at him like that? What did you wanna talk about? Why not now?
"Sure, I can try to come home earlier." He tried to keep his voice steady, but his whole strongest being was shaking in fear.
"Great." you nodded with a neutral look that did NOT scream 'Great'. "Then have a good day at work."
"Thank you, you have a nice day too."
He was going to die, wasn't he?
~
"You look like a corpse." Suguru was always soo considerate.
Satoru sighed as he sat down next to his friend. "Just give me the missions."
His best friend raised an eyebrow. "You know, you should attend the meetings for a change. I'm not always gonna be able to get your missions for you."
"Yeah, you are right Suguru, what would I ever do without you? You are such a good friend." Satoru yawned as he waved his hand.
"Would you please be so kind and enlighten me where I have to be today?"
"I'm going to overlook that sarcasm for today." Suguru handed him a piece of paper. "Here's the list for today."
As Satoru looked at the very long list in horror, Suguru spoke again. "But for real, you look terrible. I thought things were going fine in your marriage?"
"Of course they want me working overtime today." Satoru groaned. "I swear one day I will make all of the higher ups-"
"Satoru, what's wrong?"
He stopped in his rant and sighed. "She wants to talk."
Suguru raised his eyebrow again. "And that's bad, why exactly?"
"Because she always looks like I killed her pet or something like that!" Satoru whined and looked at his paper.
"She doesn't like me."
Suguru shrugged with his shoulders. "I mean, you still didn't apologize."
As Satoru didn't say anything, Suguru continued. "And you also don't really talk to her. How can you expect her to like you yet?"
"Yeah, yeah, you're right." Satoru whispered. Holding his list up, he begged Suguru. "Can you take some of my missions? Please?"
Shacking his head, suguru laughed. "That one time was an exception, I had to work three days in a row for that Satoru. I'm sorry but I have lots of missions too. It's the season."
Satoru just nodded. He had seen this coming.
30 missions in only 12 hours?
It would be a challenge. And it would cause him a little trouble.
But would he give up?
He smiled to himself.
~
You didn't have any time anymore.
The letters of your mother became overbearing, asking where you and Gojo will go for your honeymoon. Asking, that you have surely talked with him about it?
No, you didn't. In fact you were too nervous to even look at him.
You were relieved that he didn't seem to despise you, since he and you ate together now. But he also didn't talk to you and that made you question yourself.
Did he even want to talk?
You needed more time. So much more time. How could they all expect, that you could just sleep with him?
No that just was absurd.
"Mrs. Gojo? How are you feeling today?"
Hina really liked you over the time. Her smile somehow made all of this a bit lighter.
How could you survive a week without her? Just with your husband and the pressure to do something?
"Alright. How are you feeling?" you smiled back, trying to hide your nervousness.
"Perfect, like always." She answered right away, bowing a bit. "Would you like a snack?"
You chuckled a bit. "I can get myself a snack, Hina, you really don't have to."
She shook her head. "Nonsense, it is my job to make you food." She smiled at you knowingly. "And I also get paid for it."
You laughed a bit. "Well, I think my husband will keep paying you even when you make me a snack less."
"If you think so Mrs. Gojo." she made a little curtsy and laughed as she went into the kitchen.
You smiled to yourself as you looked after her. You would miss her on your honeymoon.
Oh god the honeymoon…
~
"Could you please just die?!" Gojo was annoyed as fuck as the curse before him just kept sneaking into barriers and hiding from him.
Normally he wouldn't be this mad.
But he had to be home in time today. And as the curse escaped a crazy laugh at him his anger only rose.
His finger twitched. He wanted to just open his domain and make puddle of this pathetic being. But there were still people near and it would be a bit overkill.
So he had to work with red and blue.
And he had to be fast.
"Gojo Satoruuuhuuuuuu." the distorted voice of the curse spoke underneath him. So smugly, that Satoru felt like laughing.
"Found you."
Hollow purple.
As the cursed energy of the curse slowly disappeared Satoru looked at his list. Still 4 curses in 4 locations. And only 30 minutes till 9 pm.
He had to be faster. Before you would think he didn't care.
If there was just one more stupid barrier, he swore he would-
Goddammit.
~
It was almost 8:51 as you thought you should just eat and go to sleep.
Maybe you would find the courage to talk to him tomorrow too and everything would be fine.
Maybe.
"Should we serve dinner, Mrs. Gojo?" Hina looked at you and waited patiently for your answer.
And as you looked at her something in you switched.
"Wait. My husband isn't home yet, we will wait for him."
Hina chuckled and nodded. She smiled knowingly as she went into the kitchen.
You looked at the clock. 8:56 pm.
You sighed as you sat there. Playing with your glass, you wondered.
Would Gojo even want a honeymoon?
If he didn't, that would be a problem. The higher ups were persistent of you two going somewhere in japan to have 'enough time'.
Your glass seemed to shake, nerarly breaking.
What would you do? What would you tell them? What, what, what-
Forcefully the door opened and Gojo stood there.
A Gojo stained with blood, his blindfold pulled down, looking at you with big eyes.
"What did you want to talk-"
"Why are you bloody-"
You talked at the same time, looking confused at each other. You waited for an answer, as he looked at you confused.
"What do you mean, bloody?" he looked down. Then his eyes widened and he chuckled. "Oh, you don't have to worry, it's not mine."
What did he mean 'don't worry'? He looked like he was out of a horror movie!
Perplexed you looked at him. "Is this all from the curses-?"
"Anyway you wanted to talk?" only now he closed the door behind him.
You blinked at him. Two times. Three times. Then you looked down. "Yeah. But if you are to tired, we can also talk tomorrow -" or the day after, or the day after that day, or…
"I'm not too tired, don't worry." He looked behind you at the empty table. "Did you already eat?"
Just as you wanted to answer, Hina stepped in and took the opportunity to speak. "Mrs. Gojo, now that Mr. Gojo is here, should we serve the food?"
You looked at her and just nodded.
"Well, then." Gojo clapped one time. "We can talk as we eat, right? Then let's sit down."
He took your chair and you wanted to ask what he wanted to do, as he pulled it and offered you the seat. You just sat down and muttered a small thanks.
He smiled, he smiled?, and went to his seat on the opposite side of the table looking at you full of expectation.
Your mind was blank. All the words you so carefully constructed to sentences were all gone. The only thing in your head was the question:
What if Gojo didn't want a honeymoon?
"You waited for me to eat?"
You looked up to Gojo and he smiled at you again. Since when was he so talkative??
"Yeah, I did."
Your voice was much more quiet as you wanted. But he didn't seem to mind as he looked at you with that sparkle in his eyes.
Or maybe his eyes always looked like that.
"Thank you. But you don't have to do that. Most of the time I work much too long for you to stay up and not eat."
"Well, maybe we could still eat dinner together sometimes."
Your mouth spoke without your permission and his widening smile made your head dizzy.
"Your food. We hope you enjoy your meal." Hina placed dinner onto the table bowed a bit and then went into the kitchen as fast as she could.
"Soooooo." Gojo looked down at his food. "What did you wanna talk about?"
"Well…" you stopped, weighing your options of what you could say. Oh, just say it. "I wanted to discuss your honeymoon."
As you looked up you saw two big blue eyes blinking at you. "Our honeymoon? Ohhhhhhhhhhhh"
His shoulders visibly starting to relax as he sighed of relief. A smile forming on his lips again. "Whew, I thought I did something wrong. You had me scared, you know."
"I had you scared?" you looked at him in disbelief. "You came in like a madman covered in blood!"
"Oh, trust me." Gojo leaned back. "That's not nearly as terrifying as my wife, when she is angry at me. She can get really mad, you know?"
You couldn't hide the disbelief in your face and just shook your head. But slowly a smile was forming on your lips. "You're stupid."
Satoru chuckled again and took a bite of the food. Then he looked at you again. "Yeah, yeah. But back to the topic."
Leaning a bit forward, he raised an eyebrow. "Where do you want to go for our honeymoon?"
His voice sounded so casually you felt dumb. "Oh, I don't know. I wanted to ask you."
He tilted his head. "Do you even want to have a honeymoon?"
"What-" panic flooded you as you thought about the higher ups. "Of course!"
"If you say so." he didn't seem convinced but nodded. "But there has to be a place you always wanted to go."
You shook your head. "No, not really. You can decide."
His eyes narrowed as he leaned forward. "Is there no country you ever wanted to go to?"
"No!" you spoke so fast, you couldn't stop yourself from your panic taking over. "I mean- I would like to be in Japan."
He kept silent as he inspected you. And then he sighed. "I have nothing against it, if that's what you want. But you seem so on edge."
You looked down. "Sorry. This…" your throat tightens but you manage to say the words in your mind. "It's just very important."
He blinked at you again and then smiled so softly, you didn't know Satoru could even look at you like that. "It's okay, but if you are too focused on making it perfect, it sabotages itself, doesn't it?"
You couldn't bear his words. The voice of your mother played so loudly in your right ear.
Be a good wife. Be a good wife. Be a good wife be a good wife beagoodwife-
"Would you like to go to a quiet place?" Satoru chuckled to himself. "I wouldn't say no to it."
He looked so sincere. Never before had he talked to you like that. Of course you did have some small talk about his day and what you read the last day, but he seemed so relaxed and like himself right now.
Was this the charismatic Gojo Satoru so many people told you about?
"I would like that." you whispered.
"Hina?" His gaze focused on the girl who quickly emerged from the kitchen. "You and your grandma lived in Shirahama, didn't you?"
She nodded quickly and smiled. "Yes, it's nice there. A bit of the ocean to see and plenty of nature."
She looked at you expectantly. "It's really relaxing, Mrs. Gojo."
Somehow, her shy look made you smile too. "Well, we'll have to go and see it then."
Hina smiled at you with sparkling eyes and bowed a bit again. "You won't regret it!"
"Definitely not!" Satoru laughed a bit. "Then that's settled."
"What-" he looked at his food and continued eating without a care in the world. How could he just carelessly think that that was it?
"But we still have to discuss everything with the higher-ups!"
The atmosphere became much colder along with his gaze. He had stopped eating and his gaze pierced you.
His figure suddenly sitting up straight, his arms to the side, he raised his head.
"Why should I discuss our honeymoon with them?"
The words were caught up in your throat.
You looked down at your food and tried to justify your silence by eating.
"Did you just want to talk to me because of them?" his voice was so much colder than it had been seconds before.
You frantically swallowed your food. "No, I… It wasn't that, really!"
The lies were hard to get off your lips. But he couldn't know about the meetings, no, he simply couldn't!
He was silent. His gaze was lowered and you could no longer see his beautiful blue eyes.
"I wanted to… Get to know you better. We hardly know each other." You pointed to the food table.
"I think it's good that we're eating together now, but that hardly adds anything. I just wanted… For us to have more time together."
When he still didn't say anything, you lowered your head too. "It's just… I thought we still had to organize everything with them? Because of your work and clan duties?"
Gojo chuckled and you heard him looking up. "As if they could fight back. We can just leave."
His voice halled through the room. "And we will tomorrow."
"What?" Shocked, you looked at him. "You can't be serious, can you?"
A huge grin was forming on his face. "You still have to learn how serious I can be. We're leaving tomorrow."
He pulled out his cell phone and typed something. "One of my clan employees will arrange our trip."
"Gojo, we can't just leave!"
"Why not?" he looked deep into your eyes. "Why can't we just say 'fuck them'?"
You shook your head. "Maybe you could, Gojo, but not me! I would disgrace my clan!"
Gojo stood up abruptly. "This is our honeymoon! Your honeymoon! What they think doesn't matter! You're my wife now, those bastards have to respect you! Understand that!"
"It's not that simple." You could only whisper.
He shook his head. "Nevertheless let's go tomorrow. I'll write a letter to your mother and explain that I just took you with me."
He approached your seat. "You wouldn't be to blame."
As if she would think it wasn't your fault. They'd all curse you because then they wouldn't know where you two even were.
But wasn't that what you wanted?
"I'm going to sleep." Determined, you headed for your room. You needed to clear your thoughts.
"We can talk about it again in the morning. And maybe go straight away." He followed you to your door.
"There would be consequences." Something in your voice trembled. "Just running off like that."
And as you stood there, your door to your room already in your hand, he stepped right behind you. His body closer than ever.
Shouldn't Infinity be pushing you back? Why could you feel his warmth, almost feel his breath?
"I could handle that." His hand now held your door.
"I want to get to know you better too."
With that, he let go of your door and left you standing in the hallway, confused.
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Note
hiii! can i get a #47 (I thought it was a one-night-stand...and now we’re married…) with Quinn?
I am so sorry this took me like a week to answer. But yes of course I love writing little blurbs for Quinn. Also another person requested this prompt with Quinn but wanted smut, so I hope you don't mind I put them together.
Drabble Challenge Drabble Masterlist
"I thought it was a one-night-stand... and now we're married...."
Quinn couldn't keep his eyes off of you since he saw you take your first step down the aisle. Now with you across the room from him at the reception he's having a hard time focusing on what Jack and his dad is talking about too focused on watching you across the room talking to a family member. He watches you smile and laugh as you listen to one of your aunties stories. All he can think about is that now your his wife and you have his name and for some reason that makes him feel warm inside. Then he glances down your backside, and sees how your dress hugs your curves in all the right places and now all he wants to do is steal you away and consummation the marriage. Not even giving his dad or brother an excuse he leaves them and heads to you with one goal in mind. Finally reaching you, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you towards him so that your back is against his chest. He says "excuse me ladies, but can I steal my wife for a dance." As soon as your aunt nods her head, he grabs your hand and starts pulling you against towards the dance floor, but he makes a sharp left towards the hallway with the bathrooms.
"wait I thought you wanted to dance Q?" you ask curious as to where he's taking you.
"we will. but after." he speaks soft against your ear kissing right below it before he continues to guide you down the hallway. It seems like he finally got what he was looking for when he stopped at a storage closest smiling when he realized it was unlocked. Pulling you in and closing the door, he quickly closed and locked the door behind him. He kissed you abruptly, as if he was scared he was going to run out of time. Pulling away slightly to catch your breath you whine his name, as his hands that are your neck try to close the gap of space between you again. His teeth gently nip at your bottom lip causing you to gasp in surprise allowing him to slip his tongue in your mouth taking complete control of the kiss.
His hands leave your neck moving down to your hips pulling you closer to him even through the layers of your fabric from your wedding dress you can still feel his hard cock forming causing you to gasp at the same time he says "please." in a soft voice.
"hmm" you respond still in a daze from the kiss. Going down to suck gently on your sweet spot on your neck he speaks again. "Please baby." moving a little lower on your neck and softly kissing. "You look so beautiful and sexy in your dress." Now gently sucking on where your neck and shoulder meet gently biting you can't help the moan that escapes as he continues to plead. "I can't wait till were back at the hotel and we can't really leave our own wedding early." Now kissing gently on the only part of your chest exposed in your sweetheart cut grown. "Please."
All you can do is laugh. "Quinn. How are you gonna fuck me in this dress, I can't even pee without a bridemaid helping me."
"Is that a challenge?" he asks in a cheeky tone.
"Maybe.." you smirk at him. In a flash, his lips are on your again and his hands pull the bottom of your dress trying to get to your pussy as fast as humanly possible. Finally giving up and getting on his knees, he goes under your dress, you lean back against the shelvin for support as you feel Quinn swipe his tongue teasingly over your underwear.
"hmmm. please. Q" you beg.
"Fuck I love when you beg. God your so fucking wet, who makes you this wet?" he asks his fingers moved your underwear aside, sliping his fingers into your pussy, slowly pumping them in and out.
"ahh you" he starts pumping a little faster and sucking gently on your clit then you get an idea. "my husband." immediately his fingers stop and you whine because your idea back fired you hear him mumble a string of curse words under his breath. He takes his fingers out of your pussy and you whine at the loss of contact. "shhh baby, hold on. turn around." He demands as he comes back to you and lifts your dress up. From behind you can hear him undoing his belt buckle.
"shit." he mumbles sounding annoyed.
"what?" you ask.
"I don't have a condom."
"I don't care Quinn were married if I get pregnant I get pregnant." as you push your butt towards him. That's all it takes for Quinn to gently push himself into your core, both of you sighing at the feeling. Quinn gives you a couple of seconds to adjust to be full before he starts rolling his hips slowly.
"Faster." you beg He picks up the pace slamming into you, hititng your g-spot with every thrust.
"Oh yeah, am I not being good enough, god your such a fucking slut." grabbing your neck and squeezing it, you close your eyes and moan at the feeling. "Only you would beg for more as I'm already fucking you." he bites out. All you could focus on was the feeling of entire body tightening.
"ahh Quinn I'm close." you pant out.
"no not Quinn. What's my name?" he asks squeezing a little tighter on your throat.
"hu- husband." you moan and with that Quinn quickens his pace, both of you cuming shortly after. Quinn stays inside of you for a minute catching his breath his head resting on your shoulder.
Gently kissing the side of your neck he whispers, "you did so good baby. you okay?" he asks and your heart swells at how kind Quinn is always espically when it comes to aftercare always making sure he didn't cross some limit and hurt you. All you can do as you feel this overwhelming feeling of love you have for Quinn is chuckle to yourself. "what baby?" he asks a mix of confusion and concern.
"It's that when I met you I thought it would a one night stand." you admit both of you chuckling now at the realization. "and now I'm standing here in a wedding dress."
"and were married." Quinn finishes your thought for you. "I'm really glad you gave me your number that night." Softly kissing your neck.
"me too."
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emphistic · 2 days
Text
Deja Vu
A/N: Bury Me at Makeout Creek
<- series m.list
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And autumn comes when you’re not yet done
With the summer passing by, but
I don’t think I could stand to be
Where you don't see me
Sukuna had fallen in love with a war, when nobody told him it had ended.
Broken bottles and fallen chairs and shredded papers decorated the already messy floor. Sukuna’s apartment was a battlefield, and so was his mind. He simply just didn’t get it. . . Sukuna was the moon, when you wanted the stars. And for that very reason, he had lost everything.
He had no other reason to stay, no ulterior motive. And he certainly wasn’t wrong when he said there was no reason for the two of you to continue the fake relationship.
Sukuna was hurt. He had come to terms with it long ago. You didn’t love him, for he was merely a “token of luck” for you, and that was all there was to it. But, at the same time, he wanted you to be happy. And if he needed to leave for that to happen, he would. Still, he couldn’t help the thought that came into his mind, that he hoped—no, wanted—you to be happier with him, rather than with Naoki Ito. 
Was he foolish for thinking he was more of the man you needed, compared to Naoki?
Fuck. He was hurt, and he was far from coming to terms with it.
Sukuna often found himself asking why he loved you. And every single time, he was left with no answer. Why? Why did he love you? Even after you tore his heart out, and ripped it to shreds, without even knowing it yourself, he still loved you.
Vulnerability. A noun, as said by Oxford Languages, meaning “the quality or state of being exposed to the possibility of being attacked or harmed, either physically or emotionally.” It was an emotion Sukuna showed once every blue moon. Yet, with you, it seemed the opposite. You were a special girl to Sukuna. One which he had known since childhood. The thought of him having to let your memories merely fade away to the past was unbearable.
Sukuna hated you so much. But in his world, love and hate were so similar, that he knew not the line which crossed between them. It was blurry. It was foggy. But it definitely couldn’t be non-existent, right?
That fateful day, after Sukuna exited your kitchen, he walked back into the living room, told the two cousins on the couch he was called into work, and simply left. You only knew this, because, when you came back into the living room, soon after wiping away stray tears on the sleeve of your sweater and splashing your face with cold water, Naoki and Eileen were quick to question you.
“Why did it take so long?”
“Does microwaving popcorn really take almost ten minutes?”
You had missed the beginning of White Chicks, but it didn’t matter much to you, you had already seen the movie quite a few times before. And, taking everything into account, an American 2000s comedy film probably wasn’t enough to get rid of the prominent tear stains on your pillow that very night.
Naoki had asked you if he could stay the night, using traffic as an argument, and even going as far as to suggest the idea of using your spare bedroom, but you outright rejected him. Saying the traffic near you wasn’t usually as bad on Saturdays as on other days.
Of course, that was a lie. Your street was busier than most locations, and still, you didn’t feel an ounce bad for making up a mere fib. You just couldn’t bear the thought of another man taking up the bed previously used by a notorious man with pink hair. Your heart wasn’t taken by Naoki, and your bed wouldn’t be, either.
Eileen exited your apartment after the movie ended, followed suit by her male cousin. The blonde left without a word to you, save for a small mumble of “Good night”, but that was it.
You didn’t know why you felt so empty inside. Everything that happened, happened because of you. You said yes to being Naoki’s girlfriend, and you told Sukuna that you two should end the fake relationship; you were the sole puppeteer. And yet, you felt like a doll attached to the strings.
Everything played out the way you made it, but none of it played out how you wanted it.
Confusion. Guilt. Regret.
Three emotions that hung heavy in your heart.
The whole two weeks you spent with Sukuna, you spent making a grave mistake. You thought of no one but yourself. The arranged relationship? Was for your benefit: to lift the curse. Sukuna? Was your pawn: did everything you suggested. Naoki? Was your opportunity to experience making macaroni with someone.
Was I always this selfish? you asked yourself, while laying in bed one night. It was quiet in the apartment, save for the distant grumble of your fridge, and the wind blowing against your curtains, and the sheets rustling every time you shifted in bed, unable to fall victim to Hypnos.
The thought process behind your poorly executed actions was simply that you had too much on your plate. You were in two relationships at once. But your heart was in one spot. And that confused you. What you’ve always wanted since childhood now seemed dull and insignificant. Was this what you really wanted?
You couldn’t continue the relationship with Sukuna because you had to end the one with Naoki first. And, speaking of which, you had no clue why you took up being Naoki’s girlfriend. Maybe you couldn’t bring yourself to decline someone who seemed so innocent. It just didn’t feel right.
But, at the same time, as you laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling with an arm beneath your head, you couldn’t help feeling sick to your stomach. These weren’t butterflies, this feeling wasn’t love. You were wrong. You were so, so wrong. You should’ve never even gotten yourself into this mess in the first place. And now, instead of only hurting yourself, you were hurting not one, but two other people. Two people who didn’t deserve what you were putting them through.
-
When Naoki grabbed your hand, you almost instinctively pulled it away, clearly not used to another man’s touch other than . . . Sukuna’s. . . Fuck.
It was the weekend, and you were ice skating with Naoki. It was a simple outing, an activity you found yourself having taken a liking to, and you should’ve been enjoying it. But . . . you weren’t. You couldn’t help yourself drifting off to the thought of Sukuna. He promised to teach you hockey when winter came; the weather would be colder, and the only warmth you could gather was from his hand intertwined with your own.
But winter seemed so far, and so impossible, that you almost threw away any dream you previously dreamt, and simply bit your tongue.
Your gloved hand shakingly took up Naoki’s, as the two of you glided across the ice at a moderate pace. Your bottom lip trembled, and you clumsily skated, nearly knocking into other couples on the ice as the both of you went on and on and on.
“I’m not really good at this, as you can probably tell,” Naoki began, “but you seem to know what you’re doing.”
“My . . . friend taught me; I told you, remember? He is—he was a good teacher,” you mumbled, turning your head away from Naoki’s.
A friend. That’s what Sukuna was to you for two decades. A companion, a neighbor, a comeade, someone you could trust. Sukuna was a friend. And now, he was but a stranger, whose face you could only hold on to in your dreams.
In the past, mainly when you were a little younger, you had dreams about people that didn’t exist (Well, that’s what you concluded). You could never remember their faces when you woke up, it was always a blur; a fuzzy, distinct memory that often seemed like a mere figment of your imagination.
That’s how the name Sukuna Ryomen felt to you now. Hearing it made your heart drop to your stomach, and you always looked around your surroundings to see if you could spot his unruly, pink hair, that you loved so much—yet not enough to keep—so that you could bring him back, and tell him how stupid, and how much of an idiot you were back there.
You knew Sukuna wouldn’t like it if you did that, he wouldn’t want you to pull him back into the tide. But fuck, you were a selfish person, who wanted nothing more than to do just that.
Naoki smiled, “Right. I forgot. . . Anyway, let’s go sit down somewhere. I heard there’s ice cream here, y’know.”
You turned back to Naoki. “Oh, really? That sounds nice, we should try it.”
“We should.”
“I didn’t take you for a chocolate person.”
You laughed. “Really? How do you mean?”
Naoki shrugged, a subtle smile on his lips. “. . .The reason Sukuna left that night . . . surely wasn’t just because of work, right?”
Did he know? Did Sukuna tell him? Did you accidentally tell him at one point? There was no way he could’ve found out on his own. You’ve never told a soul other than Sukuna about the “curse” and you certainly never told anyone about the arranged relationship. So then, how. . ?
Before you could ask any questions, Naoki beat you to it. “You don’t have to lie. Lying too much is . . . a bad habit to have. I’m sure you would know.” Naoki’s smile wasn’t warm, but it wasn’t cold. It was a smile of acceptance; he had learned everything he needed to learn.
You weren’t going to outright confess everything in a shopping mall to a man you didn’t know as well as you thought you did, and you sure as hell weren’t going to talk about how you felt about Sukuna, but you didn’t see the point in trying to hide the fact that you and Naoki shouldn’t be together anymore. You had lied for so long. To Sukuna. To Naoki. And to yourself.
Furrowing your brows, you sighed a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “I’m sorry. You’ve been so nice and such a great listener, and I’ve. . . I’ve been . . . just me,” you shakily inhaled before continuing. “Naoki, I’m sorry. You’re great, you’re a wonderful guy, and I’m glad I got to spend the time I spent with you. I’m just—I. . . Everything is moving so fast for me, and I’ve been nothing but a huge dick to everyone around. It’s just. . . It’s complicated, and I. . .” Your voice trailed off, as you felt your eyes get wet. Crying in public was definitely a first for you. And today would not be the day.
“Look, I may not understand everything that’s going on, but I see everything going on. And I know, if we stay together any longer, you’ll spend the rest of your time as my girlfriend searching for another person in me that . . . doesn’t exist,” Naoki sighed. “I can assure you of that much.”
“Nao. . .” Your eyes softened as you peered into the copper-haired man’s face, but his head was casted downwards, and his bangs covered his eyes. You could barely see his mouth move as he spoke to you with a quiet voice.
“You don’t have to say you’re sorry. I . . . feel sorry for you, actually, that you had to bury your feelings for so long. That’s probably the only part I can sympathize with you on. But. . . I tried, I really tried. But ‘like’ and ‘love’ are very different things. And the difference between what we feel for each other is very prominent,” Naoki added, saying your name with a dull tone.
“. . .Naoki, I really, really wish we could’ve met when I was more mature. When I was a lot less confused, and a lot more . . . together, composed, I’m not sure. But, it’s been . . . a time. A ride. A chapter. But maybe, it was the wrong chapter. The wrong book, even,” you tried joking; “. . .I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Naoki Ito. You deserve so much better, but I can’t give you much better, and I will always be forever regretful of that.”
Naoki nodded. “I know. I know you’re full of regrets. But we’re in our twenties, and we have the rest of our lives to live. As much I miss this, as much as I miss you, I know there’s more for me out there. And there’s more for you out there, if you put your mind to it. It’s . . . embarrassing to spend the rest of your life hung up on heartbreak. I’ll tell you that.
“You’re a beautiful, exceptional girl. Being with someone you don’t love, and putting on a mask all day, isn’t your fate. I’m not going to hold you back from what you really want. So, this is goodbye.”
You walked home, soon after. With a heavy heart in your hand, that still beat for someone miles away. Huh, being selfish was so strange.
-
It’s a quarter after one, I’m a little drunk, and I need you now. 
Said I wouldn’t call, but I’ve lost all control and I need you now
And I don’t know how I can do without, I just need you now
You weren’t planning on spending the rest of your night drunk out of your mind, but being spontaneous was pretty much your thing at this point.
Alcohol is known to affect your brain. According to an article you read: It’s a depressant, which can disrupt the balance of neurotransmitters in your brain, affecting your feelings, thoughts, and behavior. In summary, alcohol affects the part of your brain that controls inhibition, so feeling relaxed, less anxious, or more confident after a drink is always a definite possibility.
In your apartment, you had a classy collection of drinks to choose from. But, maybe it was a mistake for Sukuna to supply you with his favorite bottle of beer, because that’s all you wanted now. You didn’t drink beer very often, but it burned especially good when it was accompanied by the feeling of longing for a man so far away.
Blinking back tears, your shaking fingers clumsily dialed a number you could only manage to remember when you were half-asleep and in need of comfort. You usually held the phone up to your ear, but this time, you put the call on speaker. You had nothing to lose, after all. You were alone, with the stars and moon, and your dignity.
The call was answered within two rings, and you wasted no time in saying, “Sukuna, I—I. . . I don’t know what to—hic—do. I need—”
You would’ve gone on and on about how sorry you were, and how much you needed him, but the drunk version of you had an incredibly flexible mind. And when Sukuna cut you off before you could say those three formidable words, and asked, “What did you have to drink?” you immediately forgot about what you were going to say before.
Your excitement for hearing Sukuna’s voice after what seemed like a millenium couldn’t be contained, and your heart felt ten times lighter. Blinking, your reply came almost instantly. “Just—just a few beers. Why . . . do you ask?”
Sukuna hummed from the other line. “Not in a mood for Chardonnay, I take it?”
“N-no,” you furrowed your brows, chewing on your bottom lip. “I wanted something that reminded me of you. I wanted to drink your favorite drink. . . And, when I opened the bottle, it felt like I could feel your hands on it from the last time you opened it for me. I wish—”
“Those things are tough. Why didn’t you just use a bottle opener?”
“I don’t like bottle openers. I like when you used to open bottles for me,” you nearly burst out sobbing, which was just utterly insane, considering the bittersweet smile you had on your face. “I . . . miss y—”
“I know you do, and, to be frank, that just makes me feel a lot better about everything. I mean, why wouldn’t you miss me? I gave you what you’ve always wanted, I lifted your stupid fuckin’ curse, I’m—I’m basically your Lord and Savior, now,” joked a laughing Sukuna. He was frustrated, so frustrated. Because, despite it all, he still fucking loved you. Even after you broke his heart. Even after you unconsciously made him relapse. None of that mattered, because you were you, and Sukuna would always love that.
Drunk You didn’t understand any of what Sukuna was saying, and so you ultimately dismissed his words. Your voice softened as you added, “I’m—I’m worried. I . . . don’t want other memories to replace ours. I miss our cooking nights together, Sukuna. I really miss—”
“Do you miss having someone to make macaroni and cheese with, or do you miss me?”
“. . .Is there a right answer to that?” You laughed mindlessly, taking another swig from your glass.
“There’s a right answer to everything, if you put your heart to it. Go to sleep, sweetheart. There’ll be alka-seltzer in your cabinet when you wake up.”
-
You awoke the next morning with an empty bottle in your hand, prominent eye bags, and a bad back, because you had slept on the couch that night before. Your first thought was to go back to sleep, but you decided against that, and stalked around the apartment like a zombie in search of brains, until you found a box of hangover relief in your cabinet. I didn’t put that there, you thought, but you took the tablets anyway.
Hangovers didn’t wait for anyone, and you definitely weren’t going to question a miracle from God.
“So, what’s up? We haven’t hung at your place in a while; it looks nice.” Yuuji had arrived at your door fifteen minutes after you told him you needed someone to confide in. He was a naturally very nosy person, but something told you his speed was because he wanted to help a friend out.
“I need advice,” you said, setting two cups of coffee on the table. You clearly hadn’t learned your lesson on the harm in inviting a friend over to your apartment for drinks, except this time, you would finally be sober.
“Yeah, you look like you need advice. Sorry, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but, you look like shit.”
“Uh huh. I feel like shit, too. It’s been a rough two weeks since I last heard from you. There’s a lot we need to catch up on,” you laughed, taking a sip from your mug.
“Spill.”
“I fucked your brother.”
There was a pregnant pause. Yuuji couldn’t even look you in the face, not because he was surprised—spoiler alert: he wasn’t—but because he simply wasn’t expecting you to be so frank. You? Sukuna? Why did no one tell him anything? Were you asking for advice about getting into a real relationship with Sukuna? Or were you two past that, and looking to get married?
“. . .Deadass. . ?”
“. . .No, I’m just kidding. But, we did . . . kiss. And, we did date, but it wasn’t. . . It was casual, it was just—I don’t know. It was fake. Okay, it was fake. That’s—that’s what it was.”
“And I take it, you wanted it to be real?”
Yuuji could be so smart sometimes, you mentally laughed.
“That’s the thing, Yuuji. I do, but I also don’t. But I do, but. . . I need advice, okay.”
“Duh. Tell me from the beginning.” Yuuji situated himself in a comfortable position, with his legs crossed on your table, and his arms resting on the back of the couch. He had a feeling he was going to be here for a long time.
You hesitantly started by explaining your curse. And how it’s been a dream of yours since forever to be able to make macaroni and cheese with someone you loved. But, you just never had an opportunity to do that, because you couldn’t get a partner who liked macaroni and cheese like you did.
“So, one day, when I was especially bored, and Sukuna was over at my place, I told him all of what I just told you. And, I brought up my idea on how I could get rid of my ‘curse’ and, surprisingly, he agreed to it. We would get into a fake relationship—because he liked macaroni and cheese—and cross our fingers and pray that the gods above would lift my curse and grant me a boyfriend who fit my rubric.”
Yuuji looked conflicted. “But Sukuna doesn’t like. . . Never mind, continue.”
“Later that night, we went out for drinks at a bar. I ran into a friend of mine, Eileen Mifune, and coincidentally, she was with her cousin, Naoki Ito. He’s, like, this super adorably dorky guy. Copper hair, super shy when we first met, you get the vision. But, yeah. We exchanged numbers, since I thought he was a nice guy, y’know?”
Yuuji nodded, completely engaged in your story.
“The next day, Sukuna and I watched Pride and Prejudice—”
“Let me guess, Sukuna was being a dick about the movie and everything in it?”
“Bingo. So, we watched Pride and Prejudice. Or, at least, we tried to. Uhm. . . Some things came up, and we may or may not have gotten a bit carried away and started. . . We kissed. Like, a lot. And I liked it. I really liked it.”
“Is that the conflict?”
“No, there’s more. We were interrupted by Naoki calling me, and he was asking to see me. Wanted me to show him around the city, or something. Did I mention he was looking for a place to stay? Sorry. But, anyway, I agreed.
“We were walking to a restaurant I knew, since he doesn’t have a car, when out of the blue, it started raining. We agreed to walk back to my place, since the restaurant was still a lot farther, and we ended up making macaroni and cheese together.”
“Like you’ve always wanted? Isn’t that a good thing, then?”
“. . .It should’ve been. Moving on, the next day, I invited Sukuna over, and I proposed that we should start seeing other people, since, at the time, I thought Naoki was interested in me, and that I was interested in him. Sukuna ended up agreeing.
“We told the cousins we had simply lost interest in each other, and I started going on dates with Naoki. We hung out pretty often. And, from what I’ve assumed, Sukuna did the same with Eileen.
“Some time later, I invited Sukuna over, and we made macaroni and cheese while he told me the story of that catastrophic Thanksgiving dinner you guys had. My condolences to Choso, by the way,” you added.
“Ohh, yeah, that.” Yuuji scratched the back of his neck. “I still feel bad about that.”
“Uh huh. Anyway. . . Oh! I found out he watched Sausage Party!”
“For real? I’ve been nagging him for years, though, so can’t say I’m surprised.”
“We kissed . . . after eating the mac n’ cheese, and he stayed the night.
“The next day, I invited Naoki over. He asked me to be his girlfriend, and. . . I said yes, because I didn’t know what else to say, to be honest. And, it did feel like I was obligated to. I’m just. . . I’m really confused, Yuuji.”
“Would you have said ‘yes’ if Sukuna wasn’t part of the story?”
“. . .I wouldn’t have met Naoki if Sukuna wasn’t part of the story.”
“Don’t be like that. I mean in general.”
“No, I wouldn’t have said ‘yes’ because . . . I don’t love Naoki like I thought I did.”
Yuuji sighed, “Well, there’s your answer. This Naoki guy just isn’t the one for you.”
“So. . . Sukuna came over—I didn’t invite him, by the way—and he was . . . with Eileen.”
“That one blondie?”
You nodded, looking at your lap.
“What a bitch,” Yuuji shook his head.
“We decided to have a double-date? I don’t know. A movie was put on, and I went to go make popcorn. Sukuna came with; one thing led to another, and we kissed. . . I loved it. But, I felt guilty, because. . . I was in a relationship with another guy. Fuck, of course I felt guilty! I was cheating for God’s sake!” You groaned, holding your head in your hands.
Yuuji hummed, “That’s kind of a dick move on your part, not gonna lie.”
Your head snapped to Yuuji’s. “I know! That’s the whole point. I know, and I still did it. And, if time was rewound, I probably would have done the same thing. God. And you know the worst part? We broke up right after. I told Sukuna about how we shouldn’t have been . . . y’know, kissing, and he just. . . We broke up. The arrangement’s off.
“I lost a fake boyfriend, and I lost a real friend. All in the same day.”
“That’s. . . I don’t even know what to say to you. So, as for Naoki?”
“I broke up with him yesterday. I got deja vu being with Naoki. I felt like he wasn’t the first boyfriend I had that liked macaroni and cheese. It was as if I was reliving something I had already gone through. It just didn’t sit right with me.”
“And you did something about that?”
You paused. “Well . . . yeah. I broke up with him.”
“Sheesh, that’s the shortest lasting relationship you’ve ever had. And probably the shortest one in history, too.”
“Yuuji,” you deadpanned, “be serious.”
“Okay, okay,” he raised his hands in defense. “You couldn’t, like, explain everything to him or something? You guys could just get back together. For real, this time.”
“Not exactly. . . I mean, just look at me, I’m currently a fucking mess. I’m more confused than I’ve ever been. I couldn’t bring myself to tell Sukuna how I really felt, because . . . I just don’t think . . . I would be good for him.”
“Are you telling me? Or are you trying to tell yourself that?” 
“. . .” You didn’t know.
Yuuji said your name with full confidence, “I know my brother. I’ve known him my whole life. And I know, that, you were the best and the worst thing to happen to him. (That’s a compliment.) There will never ever be another girl like you. Not in this lifetime. Not in this universe. Not ever. So be rational, goddamnit. Sukuna won’t settle for less. And he’s as stubborn as a mule. What you did was wrong, but you can always change the ending of a story if you really put your mind to it.
“Call him. Text him. But whatever you do, do the apologizing and explaining in person. I will personally help you and abduct him, if that’s what it will take.
“I really like you and my brother together; I’m selfish, I know. But everyone is a little self-seeking every once in a while, and I’m sure Sukuna would at least hear you out. So don’t sweat it, kid.” Yuuji patted you on the shoulder encouragingly, before sitting up and cracking his back after sitting for what seemed like forever.
-
You ended up passing up Yuuji on his ingenious idea of kidnapping Sukuna. If you were going to fix things, you were going to do it unaided. There have been too many people involved by now; you just wanted it to be Sukuna and you and the stars in the night sky. Uninterrupted by any phone calls, and any other thoughts that snaked their way into your brain.
“What . . . is this?” Sukuna raised a brow, inspecting the plate of food in your hands.
“You cooked for me . . . a lot, back then. I just . . . wanted to repay the favor?” You tried.
“So why is the ketchup on the omurice spelling out the word ‘sorry’? I’m not a mind reader, y’know. Explain,” Sukuna crossed his arms.
“It’s an apology. For you. I’m apologizing to you, Sukuna, for being so utterly stupid these two weeks. Please, let me explain. So I can sound like less of a dick.”
“Be my guest.”
Despite Yuuji’s assurance, you still feared Sukuna would hang up your call or leave your texts on read. So, you did the next best thing. You had shown up to Sukuna’s door completely unannounced. With a plate of a traditional Japanese dish—omurice—in your grasps, which you knew Sukuna had a soft spot for. People usually do a design with the ketchup, and you . . . decided to write the word sorry.
You followed Sukuna inside, and the both of you walked onto the balcony, where you could have some peace and quiet to explain yourself with no interruptions. There was the occasional flutter of the wind, and the sounds of birds having fun in the sky, but that was it. And that was enough.
Clearing your throat, you began—with the plate of food still in your hands. “I’ve been really stupid. And ignorant. And. . . I’m sorry.
“I don’t know why, but, I’ve always pushed away the idea that I loved you. And, that was dumb. Because I really loved you. Love, I mean. I know that’s kind of frank, and maybe even a little cheesy to hear and say, but, I don’t regret saying it. To you, at least.
“We got into this relationship for my benefit. And I never batted an eye to how you felt. That was egotistical of me. A dick move. And I’ve realized that.
“I’ve been stupid since the beginning of this. I mean, what type of person comes up with the idea that they’re cursed to never date someone interested in macaroni and cheese?” you joked.
Sukuna sighed. “You know, I agreed to your ‘curse removal’ thing because I never experienced true romantic love. But, in the end, you only gave me my first experience of true romantic heartbreak.”
“Uhm, yeah, I’m—I’m really, really sorry, Sukuna. Feelings always confuse me, and—and I didn’t say yes to being Naoki’s girlfriend because I loved him. It’s you who I feel that way towards. . .” you cringed at yourself. “I dragged you into this mess; and I fucked up. I just want you to know, that, me agreeing to be Naoki’s girlfriend was only because I didn’t know how to say otherwise. I felt . . . obligated? to say ‘yes’ and so I did. But, love isn’t really my strong suit. And, I know it sounds cheesy to say this, but, taking everything into account, this kind of reminds me of what Plato wrote about soulmates. 
“That, humans used to originally have four arms, four legs, and two faces. Until, as a punishment for our pride, Zeus split humans in half. And now, we’re left destined to walk the earth searching for our other half.” 
You sighed, exhausted with guilt.
“Yeah, I messed up, really bad, and you may hate me forever now—I wouldn’t blame you—but, I think I’ll always be drawn back to you. And,” you paused, looking up at the moon above, “I can’t say I’m complaining. As long as it’s you I’m destined to.”
Sukuna remained silent throughout the whole time you explained yourself. He felt . . . conflicted, to say the least. He knew he shouldn’t forgive you, but his heart ached, and longed. Sukuna had spent the days apart from you reflecting and going over everything that happened. And, in conclusion, he still loved you. Honestly, if you stabbed him and removed the blade before doing the same thing, Sukuna would probably still love you.
His stomach churned, and his eyebrows furrowed, as his turmoil consumed most of him.
“This might be a bad time to say this, but,” Sukuna turned to you, whispering, “I only liked macaroni and cheese because I ate it with you. You made the meal enjoyable, because we ate it together. As a couple, as friends, whatever. And, in full honesty. . . I fucking hate macaroni and cheese.”
Sukuna expected you to respond in shock, maybe even curse him out a bit, but you didn’t. At least, you didn’t let any emotion show on your face. Instead, you merely continued staring at the stars and the moon in the inky, dark night sky. Silent, eyes unblinking, and body unmoving.
The curse was never about macaroni and cheese. It was about true love. Those relationships with other people who liked macaroni and cheese weren’t successful because they were all with the wrong person. You weren’t cursed. You were in love, without knowing it.
“Look up, Sukuna,” you whispered, entirely focused on the stars. “Don’t you think. . .” 
Your voice trailed off, but Sukuna finished your sentence for you.
“The moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?”
“. . .Yes. Yes, it is.”
Love truly was the most twisted curse of all.
𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐒
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A/N: ngl, i feel like i kinda rushed this ending, but im glad its done so whatever. here are some details you might've missed <3
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Hiya! It's me! I've been sending you so many asks that I wouldn't be surprised if you gave me a restraining order!
I made an account so I can actually participate in some of your rp things- if that's okay with you of course.
I sent you the ideas for the succubus, deadpool x wolverine and bimbo!au's, I sent others but I'd need to go through my memory, which would take all night.
Anyway- I have a new au idea for you! I think you'll like this. It's basically a gothic vampire!au.
I'm going to attach screen shots because I've already written it out and for some reason Tumblr doesn't let you copy and paste (it's already 1am where I am and I don't want to have to write this out all again, so I'm really sorry if this'll be annoying for you 😭).
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Continuation--
Adam: it's rude to stare, you know. How did a kid get in here?
Lucifer jumped at his voice: I-I'm not a kid!- I'm 30 years old!
Adam: really dude? What are you? 5"3?... you didn't get the long straw when it came to genes, huh? See what I did there?
Lucifer sighs as the man chuckles to himself.
Lucifer: uh... that's... not important- a-are you the owner?
Adam stares at Lucifer for a few seconds before taking a sip from his glass. Lucifer watches his every move, he feels like prey- are those fangs??
Adam: I guess you can say that.. my names Adam. Even though I think the asshole who broke into my house should introduce themselves first- but I'm in a good mood today!
Adam stands and pulls a chair infront of him.
Adam: Here man, have a seat, might as well make yourself comfortable.
The way Adam smiled and watched his every move made Luicfer shiver. He walked as calmy as he could to the chair infront of Adam. He sits, eyes never leaving Adams deep red ones.
Lucifer: I'm Lucifer- and I apologize for the breaking and entering. It's uh, not the best first impression.
Adam: wait- Lucifer? Like the Devil? That's sick. And I'm not one for first impressions, but you've certainly made an entrance, buddy.
Lucifer: Yeah, like the Devil, blame my father for that one-
Adam: I ain't judging man! I think it's cool, everyone has such boring names these days, it's nice to be surprised, nothing surprises me much anymore.
Adam runs his clawed hand through his hair, eyes never leaving Lucifers face. He notices as his eyes travel down to his chest, where his shirt has opened a bit more. Adam smirks, leaning forward, giving Lucifer a better view.
Adam: I would offer you a drink, but I think you want something else~
----
That's all I have! I hope this seems interesting to you 😭
Feel free to continue it, I'll try and participate to! It would be my first time doing these rp type things, so I'm sorry if I'm a bit all over the place lol
Okay- bye!
Ahhh!! Thank you for all your amazing ideas friendo! This too is amazing 🤩
And yes of course you can participate in the rp blogs! What account is it?
-
Lucifer felt a little called out, this man was so good looking he felt like he was trapped in a trance.
Lucifer: I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-
Adam: Pfft it's fine, I get it. I know I'm hot shit and I don't mind you looking. In fact.
Adam leaned in closer until his hot breath ghosted over Lucifer's face.
Adam: I wouldn't mind you doing more than just looking.
He grinned at the way the blonde man's face turned bright red at the implication. Humans were always so easy to work up. And man this one was easy on the eyes as well.
It's been a while since Adam had a visitor. Even longer since he had a rendezvous.
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gallaghersgal · 4 hours
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would it be possible to request carmy and elementary school teacher!reader like the plot could literally be anything I just love the thought of him bringing food for the class and being surrounded by a bunch of little kids who want to ask him questions and play with him and he’s all shy at first and loves watching reader with the kids…i’m feeling so soft rn 😭
hi my lovely anon!! im so sorry for letting this rot, i hope you're still hanging around to read it!!
field day is one of the best days of the year for a kindergartener. they run as much as their little bodies allow them, play games all school day, and have their bellies full of a delicious lunch. this year, that lunch is provided by none other than your boyfriend's restaurant, catering mini beef sandwiches for the kids.
you step behind the table to kiss carmen on the cheek when your class gets to the lunch station. he smiles and his arm wraps around your waist, muttering to you, "y're so good with those kids, 's drivin' me crazy."
you blush at his implications and smile when he leans in to pepper your cheek with a few quick kisses. a squeal interrupts the moment, the sound from one of your students who points at the scene with a grin. she shouts your name before asking, "is that your boyfriend!?!" her friends giggle, some of them remarking on how boys have cooties, and the little girl continues to stare at you excitedly.
"since you all have such curious minds," you start, the whole class's attention focused on you now, "this is my boyfriend, mr. carmy."
carmen smiles, giving your students a wave. they all giggle excitedly, greeting him with a staggered chorus of hi mr. carmy!
"alright, alright," you say with a smile. "we only have two field rotations to eat. so come to me for some hand sanitizer, then get your sandwich from mr. carmy."
the kids file through the line one at a time, choosing which sandwich they want, and what flavor chips will accompany it. one boy asks carmen, "do you make all the beed sandwiches?"
your boyfriend chuckles, shaking his head. "no, i don't make all the sandwiches bud. usually i'm makin' other sh- stuff." his cheeks heat up a little at his near slip, but the boy just nods, seemingly satisfied with the answer, and carmen asks him "now, what d'ya want, kid?"
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megumisgirl · 20 hours
Text
furtrated tears megumi x fem! (writer/poet) reader
when a day shines so brightly it blinds you, and causes you to sheild your eyes from the light, you know you started your day right. you get up early, do a little work-out, or read a book, take some time to yourself before you study, exams are near and you need to prepare. you can't focus, your head isn't in the right space.
you let yourself go. you feel yourself slipping away from the grasp of reality. you rely on a coping mechanism, try to find something to push yourself to the max. find something, anything to think that you are good enough. something that you know you can do and you know you can excel at. something that will not make you cry and sob and punch the wall.
but... is it enough?
the sound of typing makes the raven haired boy snap his neck at your direction. your eyes were focused on your laptop, headphones covering your ears as a thick straw sat in between your lips. that overly sweet pearl drink you always have wet your throat as you tried to finish of your book. you were down to the last chapters. and that's when it hit.
your typing slowed down before eventually stopping. you chewed on the straw, the pearly balls popping in your mouth as you nervously tapped your nails on the table. "what rhymes with 'odyssey'?" you asked out, making megumi turn his head to look at you once again. he hummed softly, looking over at your laptop. he could only see the white of the google docx and the title, with the tiny letters only writing one line. the caret blinking continuously.
"uh.. i don't know," he shrugged, "pussy rhymes with odyssey." he said, making you blow through your cheeks as you turned to look at him. hopeless. you stared at him blankly as he sighed softly, "what? i'm just kidding." he said, before getting off the bed with a small grunt and walking up to you. his hands went to your shoulder, pressing on them with his weight as he tried to ease some tension. "leave that be," he said.
"i can't!" you groaned, "i need to finish it before-" your voice was loud and almost in a tone as if you two were fighting.
"leave that be," he repeated, his voice calmer and composed. he watched you as you buried your face into your hands. "stop stressing about it. if you force yourself to get ideas it will never come," he said, moving all your hair from your back to one of your shoulder, "just take a small break," he whispered, kissing the nape of your neck before pulling your chair back and turning it around so you were facing him. "what do we say?"
you sighed softly, feeling embarrassed to be babied like this but also liking a part of it. but at the same time frustration did not go easy. writer's block was messing your mind. days after days you sat in front of your laptop, staring at the blinking caret, hoping it would move by itself and write a masterpiece but it doesn't. and it was exhausted. "i don't care what we say." you sighed, "i need this to be finished, it's-" your voice got slightly heavier, cracking as you closed your eyes and buried your face on your hands once again.
"oh, baby." megumi sighs, kneeling in front of you as his hands went to your thighs. the touch wasn't sensual, it was soft and sweet and caring. he took your hand in his, brining it away from your face to see your glossy eyes and cheeks. kissing your knuckles he softly spoke again, "you're a great writer. it shows in the way you talk and in the way you see the world. if you hit a little wall you can't just break down like this, butterfly." he sighed, his words gentle and sweet.
"just keep on going. i'm sure you'll find something better to write about," he said, wiping your tears away as he stood up, his hand going under your chin to make you look up at him. "you're so tired, aren't you, angel?" he asked, sighing softly. his heart broke for his little girl. how could he be so cruel to not see everything she was going through? what kind of a boyfriend was he? "let me take care of you," he murmured, his voice sweet and caring.
"let me take care of you and your sweet little pussy, yeah?"
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nsfw
in minutes you were sprawled on the bed, your skirt pooling around your waist as he buried his face in between your legs. his tongue lapped at your folds, taking in each and every drop that came out of you. his breath fanned against your skin, creating a ticklish sensation as you whined softly, your eyes closing as your hands went to his hair. he looked up at you, face contorted in pleasure as he pulled away.
when he thought you were wet enough, he took you so well. it wasn't rushed, or aggressive, or rough. it was smooth and slow and loving. enough to clear your head and give you some great inspiration. he took you in missionary first, eyes locked, whispering the sweetest things known to man and then matting pressing, watching his cock disappear inside you with each thrust and finally ending it with hugging you close and kissing your forehead, cuddling you as good as one can.
you were very clear headed from then.
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writer's note:
hello !! thank you so much for having the patience with me and waiting for so long. i think i last posted here a year ago? and i am genuinely sorry for leaving without any trace.
one of the reason was the lack of use of this app for me. i'm not that active in the tumblr community per say. i mean, i just write, post, read other blogs and leave the website. i do have one or two friends from here and i genuinely adore them! but still i just don't find the time to get back here for some reason. but i will try to be consistent from now on.
second reason was for my exams. i am a cambridge student and i have a TON of responsibilities right now since my o-levels just finished and my AS and A2 are coming up. if you're a cam student hmu cuz i need tips on how to pass fr. but yeah, it's a lot of pressure and i'm just super exhausted guys.
anyways, sorry for venting. i really needed that lol. but i hope u liked this promt!!!! it's an old draft i rewrote and i kinda like it :3 hope u enjoy it! comment any criticisms you have; this is a critique friendly blog! (don't do it, i will cry.)
divider from @schizsou !!
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dontbesoweirdkira · 3 days
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Hi! Are you still writing for Mortal Kombat? I have a little thought that won't let go of me: I started to wonder what kind of yandere family Blade and Cage are? What if the reader is an extremely radical rebel, who is not affected by threats or actions? (I remember how one of my family members almost killed me, but I didn't apologize and just went to school). If the reader has my stubbornness, who will be the first to give in (if that happens at all). Maybe they will go to other yandere to deal with the reader? All this is of course platonic.
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A/N: First, let me say thank you for requesting again. It always, always warms my heart when I have reoccurring readers. It means the world that you like my stuff enough to request again. second, yesss! I literally have thought about being their adopted child again and just how dysfunctionally(?) perfect they'd be. I hope you'd enjoy thisss....
Warnings: trauma, dysfunctional family dynamics, toxicity, obession...ect
Characters: MK11 Johnny, Sonya, Jax, and no cassie because that complicates things lol.
Request: Always open for my babies..see masterlist
Dynamics and Motives
We all know that Johnny and Sonya have a rather rocky relationship themselves, I can definitely see them being a bit at odds with each other when it comes to parenting you. They are constantly pulling you in every direction of who they want you to be. There's so much pressure from them to be perfect that it's no wonder you started rebelling.
I think their parental dynamic is very much a good cop-bad cop situation. Johnny is the "good cop" while Sonya is the "Bad" one.
But Johnny is definitely more manipulative in his ways. Sonya is rather straightforward in her thoughts and feelings. Like if you were to ask her if she's trying to control your life, she'd answer you with absolutely no conviction. Johnny (obviously) loves pretending that he totally understands your rebellion and that he's on your side when in all actuality he's right there with Sonya.
Sonya has an authoritarian parenting style. She is speculated to have put work over family constantly while Johnny has to hold down the fort. (kind of refreshing tho because you'd expect that they'd make Johnny prioritize Hollywood and staying young over her.)
She loves you but she’s always absent. And when she is there, she's just so hard on you. She appears to mainly care about your academics, hobbies, and future careers but not really you…She has this idea in her mind about exactly who you need to be and you will be that. And that's just a mini version of her. You're forced to be an overachiever and to perfect any mistakes that she's made in her time...there's no room for error.
Johnny is a "smother mother" Johnny is a lot more involved and his drive as a yandere is to be your best friend. He so badly wants to be the cool dad. He wants his little girl to admire him and be an unstoppable daddy-daughter duo. He's also got this image in his head of who you are supposed to be. You're always supposed to stay his perfect little angel, never grow up, never date or do any wrong. WHo knows, maybe you'll become an actor just like him and follow in his footsteps. (without the womanizer claims and duis)
They both ultimately don't want their daughter to leave their supervision.. They have too much fear of letting go, you can't get hurt. They don't want you to go through what they did. Your parents don't wanna be forgotten while you go explore. Plus there's so much danger and evil lurking, why can't you just stay at home under their protection?? You'll never have to pay for anything or think for yourself. Stay their doll baby forever. Let them continue to feed you out of their silver spoon.
How it started
I think that to some degree Sonya and Johnny were always helicopter parents. You have a paranoid soldier and a celebrity with a crazed fanbase...it's not surprising that extreme precautions were taken.
But i will say things got worse as you got older and they started to realize that you no longer wanted to be suffocated in their home. You were originally an angel child, always doing what they wanted and never questioning anything....but then your eyes started opening to just how toxic and unhealthy they were.
So less and less did you spend time with them and stay away from home. I think Johnny would be the first to notice since he's home more often and closest to you. At first, he's playing it calmly. He knows all of your friends and doesn't really suspect too much. Johnny will of course pry about what you were doing and go through your things to confirm you're telling truths.
Then as you started bailing on tainings/classes they've forced you to take, switching up your style to something more edgy, and getting into trouble...some alarm bells started going off
Sonya was fairly pissed off when she found out you dropped a bunch of things and are off track of her plans for you. Johnny hates your new look and that you're getting into who knows what. Sonya wanted to readily go to some drastic measures to get you back in line but Johnny advised against it and decided to speak to you first since this all was new behavior. Maybe you just needed some gentle parenting?
Yeah..that didn't go as planned. Unexpectedly you couldn't give less of a care about anything that they said. You knew they wouldn't have taken your complaints about your upbringing seriously anyways,, so honestly, you ended up walking away when you had enough of their questioning and audibly trashed them to your friends for the rest of the night.
You just started a war
Antics
I think they would go light on you at first. Mainly because Johnny doesn't really want this to spiral so quickly. Sonya is like okay fine but only because she's slightly curious about your whole deal. How far are you willing to go and what are you trying to prove with all of this?
They're both overly critical and unsupportive of everything you do and relate it back to your rebelliousness.
They'd do small inconvenient things like removing your bedroom door, shutting off devices and wifi, taking away your car, and forcing you to drive with them.
They'd guilt trip you and threaten to take away more things if you don't behave but it'd all be tame in the grand scheme of things.
"Keep this up, Y/N and I will have I'll punish you like a real marine. You'll surely lean respect, then."
"..Come on...Just go back to how you were. This is causing such a strain on your mother and I's marriage."
yeah, they constantly blame you for their arguing and the decline of the family. Like no, ya'll been messed up.
but this grace period doesn't last long before they are crashing a hangout session with your friends, berating/embarrassing you, and then forcefully dragging you back home.
This is a common theme because it gets the most rise out of you. They'll find themselves at your school/campus embarrassing you and will monitor you and your friends. speaking of your friends/ They hate every single one of them. They're jealous of how much you prefer them over them, they're a threat. It doesn't matter that they're all on the dean's list/honor roll...those misfits have something to do with their poor little angel becoming corrupt (or maybe it's their parenting skills)
Isolation is a big thing. You wanna mess up your success by ditching the plans for your life? You wanna be away from them so badly? Fine. You aren't seeing anything. At. All
financial abuse and neglect are big things too. They are filthy rich but somehow there's never any food in the house anymore...and all your debit cards are declining. They want you to come begging for the things you need but only offer them in return for your obedience.
I don't think they'd get physical, but they'd keep going to more extremes with their abuse and threats to make you comply.
Would they get anyone else to step in?
Yes if nothing they seem to do is working. Plus they're anxious and impatient...this all is taking too long for you to break. Are they seriously going to lose their darling daughter? Definitely Jax. He's canon-ly a very close family friend to the couple and both Cassie and Jacqqui bond over their traumatic childhoods. It's implied that often they'd spent time at one another's house and that all parents were heavily involved with raising the girls. The same goes for you. You don't wanna listen to them? They're calling Uncle Jax and he's a freaking tank. okay.
Jax loves you like a daughter but he really doesn't have as much of a soft spot as they do for you. He's willing to do what they won't. Like this mf is Sonya's superior and you see how she turned out. You will be straightened out like you're a soldier, even if that means going to extremes. Jax doesn't want Jacqqui to see your rebellion and think that it's acceptable to behave like you. So he's more than happy to help his friends out. Having three parents ganging up on you and manipulating you is like hell. You're not escaping that damn house either, you are locked deownnnn.
With the help of Jax and military equipment, trackers, cameras, and government-grade security systems are emplaced. You will be knocked down, broken, and rebuilt into a whole new person.
Who would give in first?
You definitely would. I'm sorry but like you are NOT winning against them. No way a rebellious teen/young adult is conquering them. Your insults and tactics to get under their skin won't work. You will be stonewalled and denied of all civil liberties. It isn't worth it to keep fighting back, no matter how strong you are, you'd end up in asylum before you gain the upper hand.
"Okay, okay...you win. I'll go back to being who you want me to be just chill out.."
See..that wasn't so hard.
They are overjoyed to hear this and waste time destroying all your horribly edgy clothes and rearranging your classes. It's insanity because they act like none of this ever happened and Johnny instantly proposes a family movie night with takeout. You're back to being their perfect child and they're family is "healed". but just know some of their implements are staying and they will continue to keep a tight grip on you should you ever decide to pull a fast one again.
"See, you made this so difficult when all we really wanted was our happy family back..."
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mothsakura · 1 day
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Pssst, I really love your OCs and would like to know more about them 🐋
I AM VERY HONORED- hmmmm as for ocs let me think although i will give a small disclaimer: anything older than 3 months is most likely outdated lore, i update these dude's lore frequently if you have any specific ocs you have in mind then please tell me! but i'll ramble about my favorite: GRANDPA <3 <3 <3 (Rotting Balance)
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(little icon i made for him <3) First off, Rotting Balance (ID: 0.2|000021) was made with the purpose to be able to neutralize rot, following the recent (at the time. this was around late prototype/very early first gen) case of an early prototype succumbing to the rot. His administrator, Reflections in Last Fracture, Speaks of Mirrors had planned RB to become the next major breakthrough. However RB's construction put the council in debt, as Fractures basically built RB behind the council's back while stealing funds. Yes, Fractures was politically powerful enough to do this (second highest ranking), no the council was NOT happy. Furthermore, Fractures had neglected to approve RB's model (he tried post-activation but failed). RB's model is not listed on any network either, he literally does not legally exist by the law (at the time. no this was not fixed). Neither did RB turn out successful at all, he failed to pass the rot trials, the rot had (ironically) rotted the R.N.C (rot neutralizer core) from the inside out. That and RB's severe dislike and distrust of benefactors (the dudes who built the iterators) made him very hard to work with :( I do have a post about this actually! The art looks.................. kinda goofy............ I was tired and this was a while ago so unfortunately it did not end up turning out well, I will link the post here if you want a more coherent ramble on his backstory.
His circumstances are nothing to be desired. He's rotting, he's restricted via protocol (he lashed out at Fracture, Fractures "taught" him a lesson on that. The protocol shuts down half of his structural water-collecting pipes, which leaves him unable to provide his structure with enough water to cool down.), and his tired old machinery is far from it's prime. But it isn't all doom and gloom tbh!!! He is very passionate about his work ....that being crazy scientist experiments with rot and whatever weird contraption he builds, usually nicknaming it "The Rot Wrangler"
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his crazy scientist look on full display here <3 <3 <3 He does not trust people easily, but if you are one of the people he trusts, asking him about his work will practically have him rambling on for hours about his weird contraptions that fight the rot <3 Also hc but not canon: he adores common ferns. He thinks they're funky little plants. They do not grow in his district, but he'd definitely try to keep one. (and accidentally kill it....) He also has a purposed organism named The Mauler!!! Mauler lives up to it's name, as it is a mix between slugcat and red lizard, but it is pretty docile to RB. It has become sort of like a therapy dog to him?
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he's practically a whole other hyperfixation at this point ......................................................... mad scientist grandpa ................................................ i adore him.................................. and his weird old machinery
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This is one of his 4 cores! It is unfortunately waaay too hot due to the aforementioned issue with cooling his structure :( but despite that, it still continues to function. Iterators were built to last after all. I probably have more to share but unfortunately my brain seemed to leak out of my ears as of lately- i am not too good at rambling in public- but i do hope that this ramble was coherent enough!!
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lielove · 1 year
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@kamikiproductions || continued from here !!
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❝ no, it's okay. ❞
her answer is swift, without even a moments hesitation. she stands next to the man, hands neatly behind her back as she looks to the sky above. the weather was nice - not too hot, but not too cold. and it was late enough that nobody would bother them no matter how late they stayed out.
well, the producer may pitch a fit when he finds out that she stayed out this late - but what he doesn't know won't hurt him.
ai shuffles a step closer to his side, ❝ i don't have anything to do until the evening tomorrow, and it's nice staying out here with you like this. ❞
she doesn't mention how staying out late with a boy like this makes her feel like a bit of a rebel - how the moment makes her feel just a bit like a normal teenage girl - even though she knows that she's anything but.
❝ so why don't we stay just a little longer, huh ?? ❞
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arcane-strangeness · 6 months
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#Delete later#There's so much shit happening in my life right now and this has been haunting the back of my mind for ages and I just ugh#What do you do when your boyfriend is going through some fucked up shit and won't respond to your texts asking if he's ok if he wants to#Hang out later or even just talk about things#Like I asked if he wanted to go to a mall later and it turns out he's going to mfing Arizona and. Didn't tell me at all?#He's going through a lot of stuff right now but I kinda want just like. Basic details of what he's doing?#So I can talk to him without sounding like a idiot? And not have to worry about him when he ghosts me for a couple weeks?#And the whole reason I'm questioning things isn't because he's being frustrating I've been thinking about this for a looong time#At first I thought I might have just been demi aro? Because like we were best friends before we were in a relationship#And I really do care about him I just don't know to what extent (what defines romantic attraction anyways? Never been clear on that)#And I'd break up with him and say I just need a couple weeks to sort things out and I think he'd understand#But also he really doesn't need that stress right now things have been getting really bad on his end#Our relationship isn't actively hurting me but if this trend continues it might eventually#I just really want to talk to him. About things. I hope I'm not doing a bad job handling this#Ufhfhdjajajajahrgehehh#Worth mentioning that Phoebe from Ghostbusters is making me question things as well.#Things are confusing all of the time :(
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madlori · 28 days
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My ankle journey
I am sharing this with all you good people on the dash because I am so fucking mad it took so long for me to learn it and if I can spare one (1) person the agony it will be worth it.
So for like...oh, 8 or 9 months, I've been struggling with pain/inflammation/tendinitis in my left Achilles tendon. I don't know what caused it. It just started up (welcome to middle age, this shit happens). It wasn't severe enough to be debilitating, but it was annoying and limiting. It was also intermittent, in that some days it would be very painful and other days hardly at all. The kind of shoe I was wearing affected it a lot.
Now, I have bone spurs on both heels (it's just a thing that happens as you get older sometimes). I'm also aware that heel pain is usually the result of tight calf muscles that pull and irritate the tendon. I tried stretching that calf muscle. You know the stretch, this bitch right here:
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I did it all the time. I also iced the ankle after walking for awhile, hoping to avoid inflammation. Results were...unsatisfying.
I went to:
A chiropractor
A podiatrist
A physical therapist
A bodywork coach
They all gave me some variation on the "strengthen your calf muscle, stretch your calf muscle" advice. I continued doing this without results.
I was getting frustrated, and a little afraid that this was just my life now. Finally, I thought...maybe some targeted massage might help. I asked for rec on a local FB site and was pointed to a woman who specializes in therapeutic massage including cupping, etc.
I went to her a week ago.
She spent over half our first session working on my left lower leg. Within about 10 minutes of making my eyes water, she uttered the sentence I did not know I had been waiting to hear:
"Oh, it's your soleus."
Excuse me, what?
"It's your soleus that's the culprit. It's all tied up and stiff." She started digging into it and I felt literal sparks run up my leg as she released adhesions and got the muscle moving a little. When she finally put the leg down, it felt like it was on fire with all the blood rushing into it.
She said, "You'll need to stretch your soleus. It'll clear up, but it'll take a bit of time - tendons take ages to heal."
But I HAVE been stretching.
"No, you haven't. The usual straight-leg calf stretch only stretches the gastrocnemius, that's the big belly muscle in your calf. That's not your problem. That stretch doesn't stretch the soleus. Don't worry, I'll show you how to stretch it."
My mind is spinning.
So here are the muscles in question:
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The gastroc (as the pros call it) just attaches down the back but the soleus runs underneath it from the knee around the side to the heel. The lower part above the ankle is where it typically gets tight and forms adhesions.
To stretch it, you do the same calf thing where you put your foot back and press your heel to the ground, but you have to do it with your KNEE BENT:
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The bent knee keeps the gastroc from engaging. It's one of those selfish muscles (like traps) - if you give it an inch, it'll just take over and prevent other muscles from working or stretching. There are other ways to stretch the soleus but this is the easiest and you can literally do it anywhere. I've been doing it while standing and waiting for things (the elevator to come, the toast to toast). You just put the heel back and bend the knee. It's kind of like curtseying.
The minute I did this stretch, I could FEEL where it was pulling on my tendon. I knew that THIS had been the problem.
The massage therapist also told me to stop icing my heel. She said icing is for an acute injury, but a more chronic aggravation needs heat, to increase blood flow for healing. She recommended elevation with heat every day (I've been doing it in bed during "phone before bed" time).
I have been doing the soleus stretch at least half a dozen times a day for almost a week, and the ankle is at least 70% better. It is still a little tight and tender, but the improvement is significant. I think a few more weeks will have it feeling normal.
I am...blown away by this. This massage therapist was able to pinpoint an issue in only a few minutes that eluded all the other professionals I saw. I can't wait to go back to her and have her solve all my other problems, tbh.
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zephyrchama · 4 months
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[Thoughts about an MC who gets periods]
Getting periods in the Devildom must be pretty rough. Demons probably don’t get them, and the number of humans freely wandering around has to be incredibly low. If MC takes the form of a sheep then they likely don't have to deal with it immediately, but eventually that's going to wear off and they'll revert back to a human. Does the Devildom even have pads and tampons for sale?
MC might have to sheepishly ask Barbatos if he can acquire some in bulk from the human world. Barbatos would remain professional as always when inquiring about the use of these products and their role in daily life. He'd have to report it to the prince. They're both aware of what periods are, but only in a vague "oh yeah, humans do that" kind of way. (Perhaps in the future, Lucifer could use his secret Akuzon account to order more?)
There's surely some plant or potion that prevents them, but they're not meant for long term use. Probably tastes nasty over time and covers human skin in a weird oozing rash if consumed too often.
A month or two into the exchange program, MC might have to call up Solomon for aid.
---
“Can you help me with something?”
Solomon, not too interested in MC yet, agrees just to be amicable with his fellow human exchange student. They must be scared! They must be missing humans! “Is something on your mind?”
“You know how to do magic, right?”
What a silly question. It’s almost refreshing to hear. “I do.”
“Do you know… like, uh, smell…? Reducing magic? Something to cover up smells? Without being obvious, I mean. I feel like I stink and I was really hoping you could help me figure something out.”
How cute, he thinks. He can’t quite remember the time when he smelled fully human anymore, and he can’t really smell the distinct odor on people that demons can, but he knows demons can easily sniff out a human from afar. “Oh, don’t worry about that. It should go away on its own as you spend time here.”
MC isn’t convinced. “I don’t think it will…”
“Trust me. How are you finding Devildom cuisine? I know you’re not used to it, but eating more will help you adjust. I can whip up a few simpler dishes for you to try if you need help.”
MC is silent for a bit. Solomon thinks his job is done until they say quietly, “that’s not the problem.”
“What?”
“I’m pretty sure the brothers I live with can smell, uh, my cycle.” No use being coy about it, better get straight to the point. “They stare at me when I’m on my period. I think - no, I know - they can smell the blood. I’ve seen them sniff the air when I’m around. It's weird. And I can’t exactly stop it from happening every month.”
“Oh.” Now it’s Solomon’s turn to be quiet. He’s embarrassed and surprised, a little humbled, and also really interested in this problem. It’s not something he’s ever thought about before.
MC continues, “I think they can tell when I’m ovulating too, Asmo started lingering around more often, and Lucifer looked scarier than usual, and they all stare more, and-”
“I think I get it.” Solomon can’t stop his face from turning pink. Despite his usual grin, he doesn't think he’s ready to listen to the rest of MC’s sentence.
There should be an easy solution, but it’s something that warrants testing if MC doesn’t want the brothers noticing a sudden spell cast upon them. It could get mistaken for something malicious. Solomon says, “I might be able to help. Can you come over today?”
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dauntlessallure · 7 months
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𖤐 ⸝⸝ ˚ ┊ONLY YOU, DARLING — S. RYOMEN⋆
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〝 ⠀ ݁⠀𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐲. ❜ ⠀݁
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【 SYNOPSIS 】— sukuna just wants his affection.
【 CONTENTS 】— fluff , sfw , gn!reader , soft!sukuna, clingy!sukuna , established relationship , true form sukuna.
【 PAIRING 】— sukuna ryomen x reader
【 WORD COUNT 】— 633
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⠀ ̽ ⠀ ᝰ✍︎ ﹐⠀/⠀ ❝ ⠀ 𝔄𝗗𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡 𝔑𝗢𝗧𝗘 . . .
this is solely based off of a characterai interaction i had. we LOVE clingy!sukuna in this house. <3. this is not proof read so ignore any typos. !
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to the untrained eye , ryomen sukuna had not a care in this world. not a care for human lives , nothing sentimental , absolutely nothing but to cause harm. until he had met you of course. that’s when his perspective changed for the better though, no one had ever thought sukuna would be so infatuated with a human like yourself. not even sukuna could believe it at first. but if there’s one thing about sukuna that he’s very much well aware of . . he’s clingy. now you wouldn’t dare tell another soul about this — this was something that you had promised to keep private, and you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. in your adoration , nobody in this vile world deserved to see your beloved king of curses so vulnerable. clingy!sukuna was for your eyes & your eyes only.
“ hmph . . “ you could hear his low voice gruff out as he nuzzled his head against your chest. witnessing the king of curses in such a affectionate mood was peculiar. sukuna pressed his weight down which resulted in you gently pushing him off of you , earning a displeased sound falling from ryomen’s lips. it’s not that you didn’t want to give him the attention , you were just trying to finish up your tea. “ how dare you push me away (y/n) . . mgh. . “ he certainly didn’t want to argue with you so he called it quits right then and there, almost resembling a clingy kitten demanding attention. “ i’m having tea right now love , i’ll give you what you want after i’m finished “ sukuna's lips drew tight in annoyance, as he glared up at you. he wanted affection at all times, and your denial of the request seemed to offend him. however, he grumbled softly, " . . . fine , don't you dare tease me or I will punish you. " sukuna spoke, his tone sharp as he looked away. you sighed at sukuna in response before running your free hand through his light pink locs. now gently massaging his scalp in hopes that would ease his needs until you were finished. “ feel good ? “ you asked , sukuna scowled slightly as you rubbed his scalp. he slowly felt his stress and annoyance start to melt away, easing his mind and bringing him great comfort. with a satisfied hum of his lips, the king of curses settled against you. wrapping all four of his arms around you carefully. “ . . I was not expecting these pleasant feelings. " with one hand buried in his hair and the other holding up the cup of tea to your lips , you continued to massage sukuna’s head. “ just relax kuna. . ” this made sukuna scrunch his eyes closed, letting out another grunt in satisfaction. your touch was heavenly, and sukuna enjoyed every moment of it. despite his tough facade, he was soft and vulnerable when he was with you. sukuna sighed softly, closing his eyes as he leaned against your chest more. pressing the side of his face against the supple flesh of your chest. " mm . . this is nice . . " seeing him so endured by your touch made your heart swell with warmth. your hand now found itself now gently massaging the nape of sukuna’s neck , softly kneading at the skin. now bending down and placing a small peck to the side of his temple, he couldn’t help but to purr. feeling a tingle run through his body as you raked across the nape of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. his body went lax, his breath growing heavier as you pressed your lips to his head. sukuna enjoyed the tender display of affection, feeling vulnerable in your arms. he remained silent for a few moments before responding. " hm . . no one can make me feel as comfortable like you do. . you're the only one my dear, who can make the king of curses squirm. . . “
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ׂ⠀〝⠀⠀.. ⠀ ©dauntlessallure 24’ — please do not steal , publish , or post my work elsewhere or credit as your own .ᐟ
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astraystayyh · 7 months
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pieces of you
single dad!chan. x fem!reader
genre : neighbors!au. fluff. angst. slow burn. mutual pining. 8.7k wc
summary : In which you and chan are each other's missing pieces. Alternatively, Chris and his daughter come knocking at your apartment asking for flour, and he's no longer embarrassed when you open the door.
a.n. : my chris best girl dad agenda is going strong!!!!!! my second fic for the winter falls collab with my writer xi hehe i hope you will all enjoy reading!! feedback is highly appreciated 🤍 the song chris will write for sowon is light by sleeping at last, highly recommend listening to it!!
winter falls masterlist.
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i. 
“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”
“Shh, daddy smile.”
Soft murmurs linger just beyond your door, elusive words that could easily be dismissed as figments of your imagination. However, any doubt in your mind dissipates with three resounding knocks, jolting you from your momentary contemplation. 
A reluctant groan escapes you as you glance down at your attire—a loosely hanging oversized hoodie, a testament to the numerous times it has been tugged down, and a pair of pajama pants whose matching top has mysteriously vanished. Clearly, you don't feel presentable enough to welcome anyone at this late hour. So, you remain motionless, futilely lowering the TV volume in hopes that whoever's behind the door will just continue with their night. But the knocks persist against your wish, so, with a resigned sigh, you rise from your seat, your blanket cascading to the ground in a soft descent.
“What–” the words dissolve in your mouth like a sweet nectar as you open the door, your eyes beholding no one in your periphery. A slight tug at your pants draws your attention downward, only to find the most adorable child your eyes have ever laid on. She's clad in Rapunzel-themed pajamas, wolf slippers bumping into your plain ones, and, to your surprise, a whisk cradled in her small hand. 
“Hey there,” your voice softens as you crouch to meet her warm gaze. You find an innocent happiness gleaming in her eyes, a radiant spark shining even beneath the corridor's muted light. Two dimples adorn her cheeks as she smiles at you. 
“Hi, my dad wants to tell you something,” she says, pointing with her whisk to the very end of the hallway. You crane your neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive figure. 
“Your dad?”
“Mm. He’s a bit shy, that’s why he’s hiding,” she confides in a whisper. But, despite her earnest attempt, her words still resound loudly in the vacant space, causing giggles to spill out of your mouth. 
“And you aren’t shy?” you inquire, tilting your head. 
“Nu-uh,” she shakes her head with conviction as someone emerges behind her. She instinctively wraps an arm around their leg, nestling her cheek against their thigh. 
She isn't shy because she feels protected.
You rise from your place, eyes locking with a familiar shade of brown. Only these hold a mesmerizing quality to them making your very breath catch in your throat. Kindness pours from his gaze as it travels down your face, a sentiment that further materializes as delicate smile lines stitch around the corner of his eyes.  
He’s beautiful. 
Your eyes trail down to two pairs of dimples, mirroring the ones of his daughter perfectly. She is his living portrait, sharing his eyes, lips, and smile. Yet, his cheeks blush in a hue she does not possess, while his left hand fiddles with his earlobe, in an unspoken, timid gesture. For some odd reason, it pierces straight through your heart.
“Sorry for bothering you,” a smooth Australian accent rolls off his tongue, similar to rich butter spread on warm bread- it infuses your being with tingles pulsating from the base of your toes. You suddenly no longer miss your blanket.
“I'm your next-door neighbor. We were just making cookies and we realized we actually  don’t have flour,” he explains, a bashful smile imprinted onto his lips. 
“You didn’t check beforehand?” you ask, laughter tinting your voice. 
“I forgot,” he admits, but his tone sounds almost sad as if beating himself over it. A fleeting shadow veils his face briefly, dissipating like a passing cloud grazing the sun.
“Can we borrow some from you? I told Sowon that we could go to the store but she said it’s too cold out,” he asks, his hand resting on his daughter’s shoulder soothingly. 
“It is too cold out,” you agree with a frown, looking down at Sowon to which she smiles brightly, happy to have your support. 
“And of course, I'll bring you flour. Don’t worry about it. Do you want to come in meanwhile?”
“It's okay, we'll wait here. Don’t want to intrude.” 
“Thank you!” Sowon beams, her missing tooth in full display. 
“Yeah, thank you so much…” he trails out, tilting his head as if to silently inquire about your name.
“Yn. And you?”
“Chris.”
“Nice to meet you, Chris,” you smile, shaking his extended hand. His fingers wrap around your palm, and it feels as if you’re grasping thunder, crackling with an electricity that your eyes can’t behold, yet your soul does, suddenly illuminated from within. 
Your smile grows as you detach yourself from his hold, before bending forward to bop Sowon’s nose. “And nice to meet you too Rapunzel.” 
Your words make her hide behind her father’s leg, peeking out slightly to look at you. 
“See I'm not the only one who gets shy,” Chan chuckles, and Sowon whines in complaint, further burying her face in her dad’s grey sweatpants. 
Adorable, so much it stirs a long-forgotten melancholy within your being. 
“She gets a pass, she's still young, right Sowon?”
“Are you calling me old then?” Chan fakes outrage, bringing one hand to his chest while the other cradles Sowon’s back. 
“Old enough to forget about flour,” you wink and he laughs, looking down at your slippers. 
“Touché.” 
A few minutes go by before you come back, a recipient full of flour in your hands. The sight before you makes you pause in your tracks– Chris, leaning against the wall, Sowon propped on his hip, her arms loosely hanging around his neck, her eyes closed. 
“Did she…” you whisper and he turns to you. 
“Yeah, fell asleep,” he smiles fondly, tucking a few strands of her hair behind the curve of her ear. “She’ll be disappointed when she wakes up to no cookies. She wanted us to have a baking holiday tradition.”
“You don’t know how to make them?” 
“No, I was counting on a six-year-old to assist me,” he chuckles quietly, prompting a snort from you. 
“Well, keep the flour, in case you need it again.” 
“Thank you, Yn,” he grins, the smile taking over his entire face, grabbing the recipient from you. 
“You’re welcome Chris,” you say, as you both linger around the door still, not making any attempt to move. 
Your eyes refuse to peel away from his, as if there were a magnetic force drawing you to him, telling you that your gaze belonged to rest on him.
“Uhm,” he clears his throat, leaning away from the wall. “I'll get going.”
“Yeah, sleep well, Chris.”
“Thank you,” he smiles before turning around. 
An idea brews in your head, a germ sprouted by the clear adoration in which Sowon gazed at her dad, and the disappointment in his face as he said he would no longer be making cookies. Had you wished to dig a little deeper, you would’ve also found a long-buried feeling of a little girl who would have loved holiday traditions as well. You close the door before heading straight to your kitchen. 
One hour later 
You knock softly on Chris’ door, fidgeting from one foot to another. You almost retract back to your apartment after your fourth knock, when the door finally opens, Chris coming into your line of sight. 
“Hi,” you greet, hands behind your back. 
“Hey,” he smiles, leaning his arm on the doorway, right above your head. He tilts his head to the side, silently wondering what you want. The words dissolve in your mouth at the way his eyes fixate on you as if trying to peer behind your irises onto your mind. 
“Cookies,” you bring the plate before him, as his eyes grow wide, an incredulous smile drawn on his lips. 
“You made them?” 
“Yeah, didn't want Sowon to be disappointed,” you shrug and his eyes grow wild, racking all over your face in disbelief. 
“You didn't have to do this,” he finally says, tone softening, syllables ringing like a sweet sonnet in your ears. 
“I know. I wanted to. and I'm a baker so making cookies comes easily to me, don't worry about it,” you shrug sheepishly, biting your lower lip slightly. You felt scrutinized by him in ways you haven't felt before. 
“Thank you, Yn, I don’t even know what to say,” he says, his smile resembling a beam of light. A surge of pride courses through you at managing to bring it forth. 
“No need to say anything. I hope I didn't wake you up,” you smile sheepishly and he shakes his head. 
“No, I- I was working in my studio and Sowon is asleep. It's just us two. Always has been,” he adds, tone slightly changing, air growing heavier between you both. It's just them two. 
“Studio?” you inquire, hoping to dispel the tension latching around you both. 
“I'm a music producer,” he clarifies. “I made a studio here so I could stay the night with Sowon.” 
“I'm sure she appreciates that,” you say as you hand the plate to him. His fingertips brush against your own, and a slight electricity courses through you at the touch, the hallway suddenly brighter from the fireworks ricocheting off of you both.
“I…. I'll get going.”
“Yeah, yeah, don't want to take more of your time.”
“I'll see you around.” 
“Yeah, I'll see you,” he says, words not ringing carelessly into the air, sounding more like a promise. He'll see you, he'll make sure of it. 
ii. 
“Can you wait!” a voice echoes near the building entrance, and you prevent the elevator doors from closing as hurried steps near you. 
You recognize the voice easily by the light tingles running down your spine, the Australian accent shooting straight through your heart. Its owner materializes, Chris— leather jacket hugging his muscles snuggly, black t-shirt tucked into a pair of blue jeans, cap nestled on his head, rebellious strands of ebony hair peeking behind it.
You find the breath knocked out of you once again at his sight. He's beautiful, even more so in broad daylight, where every feature of his comes to life, beckoning, demanding your sole attention. 
“Hey, Yn,” he smiles in delight, uttering your name in a familiarity that infuses your being with warmth. Even though you've only talked once, two days ago. 
“Hey, Chris,” you greet back, pressing the fourth elevator button again. you face the mirror to find Chris already looking at you, his eyes instantly locking with yours. 
“The cookies were good,” he smiles softly and you grin. “I'm glad you think so.” 
“Where is your bakery? I need to taste more of your baking.” 
The butterflies in your stomach tone down at his words, your attraction momentarily forgotten as gratitude coats your heart instead.
“I can text you the address?” you propose. 
“Yeah, here,” he takes out his phone, a picture of him and Sowon set as his lock screen— their cheeks are pressed tightly to one another, messily done eyeliner on both their eyes. you giggle to yourself as you grab the device.
“Cute picture,” you muse and he brings an arm to his neck, scratching the side of it timidly. 
“She insists on trying her makeup on me.” 
“She makes you look better,” you giggle and he rolls his eyes, tongue poking against his cheek. 
“She wants to become a stylist,” he explains, as the elevator doors open. He lets you out first, arm stretched forward.
“I find her passion really cute so I buy her anything she asks for,” he shrugs and you chuckle, pointing to the bag of pink ribbons he is carrying. 
“Let me guess, she wants to use these on you?”
“Yeah. She also said that I quote ‘need to learn new hairstyles because her friends always come to class with intricate braids, and she can't go to class with a simple one.’” He repeats, tone growing slightly high-pitched as he mimics his daughter's words. Yet, the fond smile on his face is louder, screaming of his love for her. 
“She has you wrapped around your finger,” you muse, leaning against your door. The keys in your bag are long forgotten. 
“She can be very scary for such a little girl.” 
“What does she threaten you with?” you ask, feigning horror. 
“No goodnight kisses,” he whispers, as if scared she'd hear him beyond the wooden door. 
“Torture,” you gasp, placing your hand on his shoulder reassuringly. Yet, the smiles slip out of your face instantly. Was it normal for clothes to dissolve under your touch, layers of cotton and leather doing nothing to stop the warmth of his skin from seeping through you? Was it normal to be so affected by such an innocent touch? 
“Uhm,” you clear your throat, “I can help you. with her hair, I mean.” 
“You don't have to. I already took too much from your time with the cookies,” he seems truly apologetic, his tone sobering as if despising others doing things for him. You see yourself in him, in the way he wants to carry the world’s burden on his shoulders. It is a reflection you wish to mend. 
“I don't mind, I remember feeling jealous of the other girls in my school so I made myself learn all the braids.” 
And then you see his gratefulness, the twinkle in his eyes that you can only grasp for a millisecond before they disappear into moon crescents. Happiness looks grand on him, overtaking his entire face, brightening his features with a glow too ethereal to be of mankind, as if they were carved to translate joy. You find yourself willing to give up more of your time to see it.
“Thank you,” he breathes out and you nod, a grin taking over your face as well. 
“You’re welcome. Let me just change my clothes.” 
☃︎⋆꙳•❅
“And then, you pull the right strand all over to the middle one. Then you repeat, this way the ribbon is braided into the hair,” you explain to a very concentrated Chris, his eyebrows furrowed as he follows your movements. 
“It looks easy when you do it,” he frowns and you giggle, handing the mirror to Sowon so she'd be able to look at her hair. 
“Do you like it,” you ask, a tad apprehensive and she beams, dimples that almost swallow her chubby cheeks surging forth. 
“Pretty!” she exclaims and you giggle, bopping her nose. “You are pretty.”
“And you are pretty too. right, daddy?”
You turn back to find Chris watching you, a smile so fond on his face that it renders your insides putty, coats your cheek in the palest shade of pink.
“Very much so,” he says, tone quieter, his eyes never leaving yours. 
Sowon suddenly climbs on her dad’s lap, star and moon stickers in hand. She places them all over his face, and he sits there diligently, arms wrapped around her midriff so she won't slip away. Every carefully placed sticker is punctuated by a soft gasp from him and a small giggle from her. You could feel the love radiating from both of them, a feeling so strong it made your heart twist in your chest. 
Were there red neon exits you weren’t aware of in your being? Ones through which love trickled away all these years ago? Were the spaces between your fingers carved to hold someone’s hand, or to make everything you've ever wanted slip from your grasp?
“What do you think?” Sowon startles you and you force a smile on your face, willing the heaviness in your heart to dissipate. There were questions you'd never find the answers to, you had to make peace with that.
“I love it!” you grin and Sowon nods, satisfied. You look down at your lap as Chris fixates his eyes on you, a worried crease growing between his eyebrows. 
“Fun is over, you need to do your homework, Miss Bang,” he scolds and you snort, as Sowon rolls her eyes slightly. 
“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” he fakes offense and you giggle as Sowon huffs slightly. “Dad, I told you I have no homework. I already did it with uncle Felix.” 
“Oh, right,” he deflates slightly before brightening up once again, “then, you should put away all these hairbrushes and ribbons, okay?”
“Will you watch a movie later with me?”
“Of course, baby.”
“Okay then,” she grins, quickly standing up to start putting away her things. you smile, getting up your turn to leave. Chris understands and stands with you on cue. 
“You can stay and watch the movie with us.”
“It's okay, I have some things to work on,” you turn around, but then you feel his fingers wrapping around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. 
“Are you okay?” he asks, hand still burning straight through your skin, igniting a million nerve ends with a simple touch. You avoid his eyes, looking down at the ground. It seems to be response enough for him. 
“We’re conditioned to say yes even when we aren’t, right?” he speaks softly, his words travel through your veins in a rapid course against the current of your blood— which one will reach your heart first and flood it? 
Your facade cracks. His voice wins. 
“So, you don't have to reply now,” his thumb swipes once across your pulse. “But I'll be here if you ever wish to tell the truth.” 
iii.
You’ve grown exceptionally fond of Chris in the span of mere months, more than you would like to admit to yourself. It was an easy task, as natural as the current of a waterfall. Yet, you did not plan for it, for a new emotion to settle on top of your lungs, to make you more aware of your heart and how it beats, slightly faster, around Chris. But it happened serendipitously, against all odds, when he knocked on your door at 10 p.m. asking for salt.
“Should I start buying groceries for you?” you joked, and it took Chris a millisecond longer to respond, his gaze wandering across your face, as if discovering the world’s eighth wonder, hidden in plain sight all these years. 
“For my defense, I have a daughter that likes experimenting with cooking,” he smiled, and you raised an eyebrow at him. 
“Just with salt?”
“She added four teaspoons of it in an omelet. Then forced me to eat it because I always tell her food shouldn't go to waste,” he shudders at the memory and you chuckle loudly. 
Chris knocks on the doors of your heart, once.
It happened when you spotted a cockroach the size of your palm on your bedroom wall. You would’ve killed it, you were going to, except it started flying towards you and you let out a loud shriek you didn’t know your vocal chords were capable of conjuring. So, you called Chris. 
“Can you please come over,” you murmured, crouching near the entrance door, a pair of slippers in your hand.
“Why are you whispering? are you okay?” he sounded worried, and you heard the turning of a lock as he opened the door to his apartment. He didn’t ask questions, instantly coming to your aid. A sudden urge to weep filled your being at his gesture. 
“There is a cockroach. a flying one,” you precised, horror dripping from your tongue and his laugh flooded your ear, tiny squeaks that made your hold on the slipper grow limp. 
“I'm from Australia,” he knocked on your door, and you stood up promptly. “I've seen worse,” he said once you finally opened it, his eyes softening incredibly when they met yours. 
He did kill the cockroach, by spraying your insect repellent enough times to asphyxiate you too. “I don't think I can sleep in there tonight,” you sighed, gulping down ice cold water, “why does it feel like we went through war?” 
“We? You were behind my back all the time.”
 “I was cheering you on, from afar. Spiritually.”
 “I can’t believe a cockroach scares you this much.”
 “You literally screamed when it flied towards you too.”
 “I didn't scream! I made a very manly, non-terrified sound.”
 “Mm, sure,” you giggled, voice softening at the blushing of the tip of his ears. Chris didn't have to force the door down to your heart, you willingly opened it for him. 
And after that, it was a race to find the silliest excuses to see one another. Chris suddenly taking up an inkling for baking, you manifesting a newfound interest in music, Sowon needing her makeup done for a dance, Chris visiting you in your bakery, Sowon craving your cookies and you teaching her the recipe, Chris knocking on your door and you knocking on his. The same giddy smiles on your faces as you usher each other in. And it always, always ending with a movie night. 
“Let's watch Tangled,” Sowon exclaims, clapping her hands excitedly. 
“Baby, we watched this movie for the past…” he looks at you for support. “Three,” you whisper, a bashful smile on your face. “Yeah, for the past three movie nights,” he whines slightly.
“But I love it,” she says, her pout morphing into a huge grin. “Again! Again! Again!”
“Fine,” he concedes, mouthing “save me,” from afar to you. You giggle softly while Sowon cozies up to your side, your arm naturally draping across her body while her legs stretch atop Chris’ lap, naturally, as if having you both by her side was the way things have always been. The only reality she’s ever known.
It is a fleeting fifty minutes as the three of you watch the movie, Sowon reciting excitedly the lines that she seems to remember. But then the quiet is replaced by her soft snores, her body growing light against you.
“She fell asleep,” you whisper, tapping Chris’ shoulder to catch his attention. He tilts his head to the side, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his eyes land on his daughter. 
“I'm sorry you have to watch the same movie every time,” he says apologetically and you shake your head. 
“I don't mind. Tangled is a good movie.” 
“Are you here just because of the movie?” he smiles, dimples peeking through. The juxtaposition between the weight of his words and the soft expression on his face makes a buzzing warmth spread through you. He’s cold and hot, in and out, yours but not. 
“What do you want me to be here for?” you throw back, squeezing his shoulder slightly. 
“The company.”
“I do find Sowon entertaining.”
“Just her?” he pouts and you giggle, tipping your head back. 
“And you too, I suppose, by extension.”
“By extension, mm,” he hums, as he gathers Sowon in his arms, freeing her from your hold. “Then I guess I shouldn't come visit you in your bakery anymore. Since you only enjoy my presence by extension.”
“So sassy,” you shout-whisper as you both walk to Sowon's bedroom, “I like your company too, idiot.” 
“Yeah?” he turns back to look at you, tone a tad bit too hopeful. He doesn’t care that he sounds eager for your approval, not when he feels as if he can only truly breathe when you're near. 
“Yeah, Chris, I really do,” you speak earnestly, and Chris bites his lower lip slightly, suddenly overwhelmed by the gentleness of your tone. Your eyes follow his action instantly. 
He lowers Sowon gently onto the bed and she stirs awake, blinking repeatedly at the both of you. “Yn,” she calls out quietly once her eyes land on yours and you kneel before her bed. Chris watches from the door entrance as Sowon cups her hand near your ear, before whispering something to you. He notices your body stiffening, your gaze fleeting to him before you relax, pressing a kiss to her cheek. 
He wishes he could freeze time, stitch this moment into his eyelids until it is the only thing he sees when he goes to sleep. Loneliness is too big of an enemy for one person to fight off, but it seems more harmless when you are near. 
Chris sees you right here, every night, not forcing your place into his family, but falling seamlessly into place. Perhaps you were the missing piece that’ll soothe the burn in his heart. Perhaps he’d let you in, even as fear paralyzes his being at the mere thought of asking you to stay. 
One week later. 
You've grown used to the knocks on your door at ungodly hours of the night, Chris seeking your company each time you both fail to fall asleep. Except this time, there is a chilling premonition in your heart as you walk to your home’s entrance, anxiety coiling like a steel ball in your throat. 
“What’s wrong?” you ask upon opening the door, locking eyes with Chris's bloodshot gaze.
“Sowon,” he heaves, tone laden with fear, so different from how he usually pronounces her name. The syllables pierce through your heart like an arrowhead dipped in alarm. 
“Sowon?” you question, peering behind him to his slightly ajar apartment door.
“Yes, she has a high fever, and it won’t come down. I tried everything, and I-I don’t know what to do anymore. She’s shaking, but I can’t—”He trembles, his quivers akin to delicate chinaware on the precipice of an earthquake, poised to shatter at your feet. You'd plunge to the ground first, anything to soften his impending collapse.  
“It’s okay,” you soothe, your voice soft as you grasp his wrist. “Let’s go see her, okay?”
“It's her first time being this sick,” he whispers, clearly distraught, one hand running through his freshly dyed blonde hair. 
“It's okay. Don’t panic, it happens. Did you give her medicine?”
“Yes, a few minutes ago,” he replies as you guide him towards her room.
“Good, it'll start working soon,” you reassure, opening the door and crouching before Sowon.
“Hey, Rapunzel,” you coo softly, and Sowon attempts to muster a smile. Her cheeks flush, eyes dim like withered petals.
“How are you feeling?” you ask, pressing your hand to her feverish forehead. You cast a wary glance at Chan, who's anxiously biting his thumb.
“Cold,” she whispers, and you nod, peeling off her blanket. “I know you are, but you have a high fever. We need to let it cool down, okay?”
“I-I’m shaking,” Sowon sighs, lower lip protruding and trembling, both from the iciness clawing at her frail being, and the tears welling in her waterline, like a cup on the brink of overflowing. 
“Shh, don't cry. It will pass, it's okay,” you murmur soothingly, cradling her face on your lap, gently moving damp strands of her hair behind her ear.
“Chris, can you bring me a towel and a bowl with cold water?” you ask softly, and the man startles, painfully peeling his eyes away from his daughter, as if doing so would consign her to a dark fate.
“Sure. Sure,” he repeats, scurrying out of the room.
Sowon buries her cheek in your thigh, small hands clinging tightly to yours. You tie her hair up into a loose bun as Chan hurriedly comes back, a bassinet in his hand.
“Thank you,” you smile, as he kneels beside the bed, his hand resting on Sowon’s knee gently.
“Hey sweetheart,” he coos softly, and Sowon blinks at him, light spilling over her face. 
“Hey daddy,” she replies as you dip the towel into the water, before squeezing the fabric to remove any liquid excess. 
“You're being so strong. I love you so much my pretty girl,” he says, bringing her small hand to rest upon his cheek, bestowing a gentle kiss on her palm. 
The moment feels so intimate, so tender, that you almost feel like an intruder. You imagine this is what thorns on roses must feel like, so out of place amid delicate petals and stems. 
“I love you too,” she grins, and you remain silent, diligently wiping her face and neck with the dampened towel. You soon lose track of the number of times you've repeated this motion, but Sowon’s eyes are now closed and her body is no longer trembling. 
You rest your palm upon her forehead, a sigh of relief escaping your body as you realize that her fever has gone down noticeably- the medicine finally taking effect.
“It's better now,” you smile reassuringly and Chris’s eyes widen, irises shaking as he looks back to his daughter. 
“Will she be okay?�� 
“She will be. She just needs to sleep a bit.” 
“Okay, thank you.” 
“Can we prepare her something to eat meanwhile?” 
“Mm,” he absentmindedly nods, his fingers trailing down Sowon’s features delicately, resting upon her round cheeks. 
"She looks just like you," you softly smile.
"I know," he admits, not with pride but in surrender, as if his reflection was nothing but a cursed fate. His voice tastes like ocean water, salty, acid, suffocating.
“Chris…” you trail off and he shakes his head, abruptly standing up. 
“Let's make her chicken noodle soup. She loves it,” he says and you nod. A ticking bomb resides in his veins, devoid of a countdown, leaving you unsure of when he'll finally explode. 
You get your answer soon after—it takes two minutes and thirty-three seconds for the first tear to roll down Chris’s cheek. You spot it as you retrieve carrots from the fridge, averting your gaze as Chan angrily wipes it away.
A few seconds later, five tears follow the same agonizing trail, and now the knife is shaking in Chris’s hands. He squeezes his eyes shut as if frustrated by his pain, by the emotions escaping through the cracks in his heart.
You stay silent, bringing the water to a simmer.
The clank of metal against the counter snaps your attention, and you see Chris with his head lowered down, his hands tightly clutching the counter.
Your tongue moves before you can order it to speak. 
"Chris," you call out, your hand finding its place on his back. An ugly sob escapes his lips, a raw cry unearthed from the depths of the soil where he buried his feelings, never allowing himself the grace of grieving, then moving on. 
“I'm a horrible father,” he utters so brokenly as if this idea were cemented into his head, woven into every thought of himself—an adjective that lingers like a phantom each time Sowon calls him dad.
“You're not, what are you saying?” you gently turn him around so he'd face you. But his eyes remain downcast, as if ashamed to meet your gaze. 
“I didn't know what to do. I panicked. I-I wasn't enough to help her.”
“It's okay, you can't know everything, you are trying your best-”
“No, no, no, it's not just about this!” he snaps,  despair clinging to his eyes as he finally looks at you. “It’s hard. It’s so hard to be here alone, and I- I try but it's not enough, I can't do everything and I'm not a good enough parent for her, there will a-always be something missing.” 
“You're wrong,” you say but he shakes his head in disagreement. “Chris, you're wrong,” you cradle his face, taking you both by surprise. Your thumb swipes gently underneath the skin of his eyes, wiping his cascading tears. 
“You love Sowon. And she can feel it, she can see it, she can hear it. Everyone can. A parent can't be perfect, but they should love. And you love her.” 
“What if I can't even love her enough for a father? How will I ever fill the role of two parents?” he's leaning onto your palm, hanging onto your every word. You'd sit for hours and untangle every thread of his mind if you have to, until you single out the infested one and burn it away. 
“She loves you Chris. She looks at you as if you hang every star in the sky. As if you're responsible for every good thing that happens in our world. She loves you and you love her.”
You gaze up at the ceiling, tears welling in your eyes. Chan notices the subtle tremble in your hand against his cheek.
“If I had someone who loved me as much as you love Sowon when I was a child, I would've turned out so differently,” you smile bitterly, swallowing down the lump in your throat. 
“You won't be a perfect dad. You can't be. But she won't grow up with a throbbing heart, pulsating because of a void that cannot be filled. Her veins won't be poisoned by hate and abandonment. Because she knows what it's like to be loved,” you pause, as your voice breaks, traitorous tears rolling down your cheeks. “To be cared for.” 
Your eyes hold his in a silent conversation, secretly telling him what your tongue cannot speak of— Sowon, an untarnished blossom, won't unfurl into a solitary flower the way you did.
“I'm sorry,” he whispers after a while, eyes softening in understanding. His knuckles brush gently against your cheek. 
“Why are you apologizing?” 
“So you'd find a reason within you to forgive,” he says, as he leans forward to press a tender kiss on your forehead. And somehow it feels more intimate than any way you've been touched before. 
Five days later.
chris [11:32 p.m.]: you up?
yn [11:32 p.m.]: i just got bad flashbacks to my college years
chris [11:33 p.m.]: ajaksjsbsbbs
chris [11:33 p.m.]: i didn’t mean it like that ㅠㅠ 
chris [11:33 p.m.]: wanna come over? i'm in the studio but im not feeling inspired 
yn [11:34 p.m.]: and how will i help? 
chris [11:34 p.m.]: i find your presence inspiring 
You don’t reply, instead putting on your slippers and walking over to his apartment. He opens the door before you even have the chance to knock. 
“What are you working on?” you ask once you’re settled atop his chair, spinning around slightly. He looks down at the pillow on his lap, lightly plucking its pink fur. “A song for Sowon,” he admits softly and your eyes grow a little wide. 
“That is so sweet,” you pout, inching closer to him. “How is it going?”
“I've finished the melody and now I'm working on the lyrics. There is just.. so much i want to tell her, i'm unsure if ill be able to express it well.” 
“Can I read what you wrote?” 
“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” he searches through his papers. “Here.”
May these words be the first to find your ears
The world is brighter than the sun now that you're here
I'll give you everything I have
I'll teach you everything I know
I promise I'll do better
I will soften every edge
I'll hold the world to its best
And I'll do better
Tears spring to your eyes unexpectedly, you try to stop their flow but they fall upon the paper, splattering like a broken mosaic, mimicking the brokenness of your own heart. 
“I'm sorry,” you spin around, your back to him as you attempt to dry your tears, and yet they show no desire to stop. Chris is in your heart and he’s kicking every other emotion out, forcing you to make amends with your sadness, the one you buried years, years ago. 
Chris gently grabs the back of the chair, pulling you back to him before spinning your chair once again until you are facing him. You bury your face in your hands and his rests reassuringly on your knee, squeezing it slightly. “Is it so bad it made you sob?” 
“Shut up, you know this isn’t the case.” 
His hand delicately traces up your arm, gently lifting your fingers from your face. He kneels before you, his thumb tenderly wiping away the traces of tears on your cheeks.
“Talk to me?” 
“It's so beautiful, so warm, so loving. Everything a parent should think of their child,” a traitorous hiccup escapes your lips. “Everything my parents never felt for me.” 
Chris’ mouth morphs into a pout, eyebrows scrunching tightly. You shake your head, smoothing down the worried crease between his eyes. 
“I don't feel sad over things I can't control and I love myself enough now to compensate for what I didn't have, but sometimes-'' your voice breaks, Chan’s hold on your hands tightens. “It stings to remember what could’ve been.” 
Stings was an understatement, it is rather a pulsating void, throbbing in ache every day, calling out for its missing piece. How can I fill you with what was lost when it chose to walk away? 
“Come here,” he whispers, coaxing you to your feet, his arms enveloping your body as he guides your head to the crook of his neck. His body runs warm, the material of his sweatshirt soft, and he smells nice too, the contours of his muscles tailor-made to complement the ridges of your own. 
“You grew up well, Yn. You did well.”
You clutch his shirt, tightening your grip as you fist the fabric in your palm. He's patting your back, and time slows down to match the rhythm of his touch. 
“Love can be hard, I know. Especially when the people who left are the ones supposed to be staying.” 
He understands, more than anyone you know. He missed out on a different kind of love too, two facets of the same coin. 
“You’re doing well too, Chris. You shouldn’t doubt yourself as much,” your arms trail up to encircle his neck, as his nose tickles your hair. You're the one hugging him now. “Sowon is really smart, she told me that she loves you a lot. She can feel it. She sees everything you do for her.”
“Is that what she told you that movie night?”
“Partly,” you whisper, and Chris leans away slightly, his warm palms still pressed to your waist, holding you close. 
“What else did she tell you?” he asks, curiosity barely hidden in his tone.
You pause for a while, eyes going over the entire room before finally locking on him.
“She thanked me, said that I make you smile more.” You suck in a deep breath, gathering your courage. “Do I?” 
“There are smile lines that don’t show on my face until you're near.” 
“Oh.” That is the only coherent response you can formulate, and Chris giggles, a tiny squeak escaping his lips in a huff. “Cute,” he murmurs, planting a tender kiss on your temple. His lips linger, holding onto the moment a beat longer than necessary, causing your eyes to close in delight. Both of you find yourselves blushing as he leans away, a shared warmth coloring the space between you.
“Sorry, didn't mean to make the mood somber,” you say sheepishly as you sit back down, eyeing Chris’s laptop. “I wanna hear this,” you quickly point to a random track on his screen before he can reply, hoping to make the sadness flee away.
“This one? It’s not really good, let's listen to something else,” his rambling and eagerness to change the track pique your curiosity and you quickly click on the song before he can stop you.
connected.mp3 starts playing. 
Sultry beats inundate your ears, weaving through your veins and whisking you away to the pulsating rhythm of a dance club. You knew Chris produced good music, yet you never fathomed that his voice could be so luxuriously rich, cascading over you like molten wax. You feel a blush rise to your cheeks at the suggestive lyrics, the innuendos peeking behind every word. And then, a sudden jealousy claws at your heart, at the thought of Chris hunched in his studio, fantasizing about connecting with someone who isn’t you. 
You wished to be the only one Chris liked. 
“It’s a- a demo for one of my clients,” he explains through a stutter once the song is done, and you nod meekly, willing your body’s temperature to go down, for the possessivity crinkling in you to fizzle out. 
So, you put on your best taunting smirk.
“I know you want me don’t crumble.. No need to be desperate we’re just getting started,” you sing-song back. “You were feeling so cocky when you wrote this, right?” you grin, inching your chair closer to his. “Feeling yourself, Mr. Bang?”
He chuckles with a hint of annoyance, running his tongue along the expanse of his lower lip. Leaning back into his chair, he casually spreads his legs a bit wider, a gesture that suddenly leaves you feeling dizzy, on him.
“It’s cute how affected you seem by it,” he throws nonchalantly, crossing his arms before his chest.
“I'm not,” you smile, although your erratic heartbeat spoke of a different tale, you just didn't need to voice it to him. “I think you were the one getting all hot and bothered in your studio,” you stand between his legs, hovering over him as he leans back fully in his chair. 
“I was thinking of a pretty girl.”
“Yeah?”
“Mm,” he suddenly grabs your waist, you feel like your entire body is ablaze. “The prettiest.”
"Who is she?" you exhale, teetering on the edge of crashing your lips onto his, like an incoherent love poem, hastily scrambled on a notebook in a fit of anger.
“y–” The door suddenly opens, Sowon’s small frame standing by the door, she’s rubbing her eyes tiredly, her chick plushie dangling from her hand (a gift from her uncle Felix as she explained to you). You quickly scramble away from Chris as he clears his throat loudly.
“Daddy, I can't sleep,” she says faintly, a tiny pout drawn on her lips, and you can see Chris physically melt at her words, at the way she paddles to his chair, and tries her best to climb up his legs. She fails to do so, so he quickly scopes her up his arms until she’s buried in his hold. Her small hands wound up around his neck, and he tenderly pats down her hair, his gaze never wavering from her frame.
“Want me to sing to you, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” she whispers, before making grabby hands at you, your heart softens like clay dough as you scoot closer, enclosing her fingers in your hold. 
“Sleep well, Sowonnie,” you whisper. 
“Can’t you stay with us?” she asks and you feel your blood freeze in your veins, your heart skipping three beats at once.
To stay. What a frightening concept. Even more scary when you realize that you aren’t opposed to it. 
You yearn to stay, for the first time in years, you wish you could. 
You swallow the growing lump in your throat, before smiling reassuringly. “I'll stay till you fall asleep.” 
Conditions, it is the way it has always been for you. staying till you’re no longer useful, staying till you're no longer wanted. Staying, but always with a time limit, always with an expiration date. 
iv. 
You’re avoiding him. 
Chris knows you are, since you no longer come over to his house, claiming that you’re tired, or that you have an important order to bake for the next day. He would have believed you had he not seen you only once in the past three weeks. 
Those were excuses, and each one of them weighed heavily on Chris’ heart, on his home too, his studio particularly, the one that got used to the sound of your laugh. 
He misses you. He never thought he’d miss someone again, craving you presence as if every breath leaving his body depended on you. He wasn’t a stranger to intimacy, fleeting hookups every now and then. Strangers invited him to their bed, knowing what they were signing up for– one night of pleasure, never to be seen again, their faces blurring into an indistinct mass in his mind, like an impressionist painting where no features stand out. Yet, with you, every detail is etched in his memory. 
He could pick you out of a crowded room, recognize the delicate curve of your neck, the fullness of your lips, and the way your nose scrunches when you smile.
He could draw the moles scattered on your body from memory alone, recognize your scent from miles away– your cotton shampoo and the specific laundry detergent you love to use and a hint of vanilla that never truly leaves you. 
He’d remember the curve of your lashes and the cascading of your hair, the airy giggles you leave across like a trail for him to follow everywhere, and your eyes– the way they gazed at him, softening slightly around the edges, shining brightly as if crafted from stardust, the way they softened even more when you looked at Sowon, voice growing slightly high pitched as you listened to his daughter’s rambles.
How did you manage to make his home yours without ever living in it?
“Dad?” Sowon calls out and he snaps his head up, locking eyes with his little girl. She’s sitting on a high stool, munching on her pizza, a pensive look on her face.
“Yes, sweetheart?” he asks, walking over to her side.
“Where is Ynnie?” she asks in a small voice and he freezes, mulling over his response. He settles for the truth.
“I don't know, baby.”
“Does she not want to play with me anymore?” Sowon whispers, and he doesn’t remember his daughter ever being this tentative about voicing a question. 
“No!” he's quick to reassure, cradling Sowon’s face between his much larger hands. “Of course not baby she loves you a lot.”
“Okay…” she nods, a small pout drawn on her lips still. Chris senses his heart physically crack in his chest.
“Do you wanna work in the studio with me?” he says in a joyful tone, and she instantly cheers up, the twinkle in her eyes found again. “Yes!” 
“Finish your food first, okay Wonnie?” 
“Okay!” 
In Chris's life, regrets have been scarce, and certainly not in the form of Sowon, his beacon of hope, as he named her. Having her was beholding a sun wherever he went. However, a fear lingers, a whisper in his heart, suggesting that letting you go might be his one true regret.
So when his daughter falls asleep, he knocks on your door once again. He's suddenly transported into that cold night, months ago, where he asked you for flour. Had he known you were behind it he would’ve knocked much sooner. 
“Hi,” you greet softly once you open the door. He takes a step forward, his wolf slippers matching with Sowon’s bump into your plain ones. You avert your gaze, finding anything but him to fixate on.
“You're avoiding me,” he says matter-of-factly, voice soft, resigning to you.
“I'm not,” you contradict, even as your eyes remain on the ground. He finds himself missing the color of your irises.
“Look at me, hm?” he implores, and you stay rooted in place. A soft sigh escapes him as he cradles your right cheek with his warm hand, his thumb gently sweeping across your cheekbone. “Yn, please, I want to look at you.”
Maybe it is the pleading tone of his voice or the way his thumb tenderly grazes your skin, but something about Chris makes your resolve unravel, threads of fear unknotting before your eyes. So, you finally look at him. An exhale of relief escapes him. 
And then you speak.
“You asked me if I was okay, and I didn't reply, back then,” you say, leaning your head further against his palm as tears well up in your waterline. “Do you still want to know my answer?”
“Of course, always.”
“I'm happy. With you, with sowon. I feel this warmth that I have never known before when I'm with you. It was almost easy to forget I've known you during winter,” you chuckle dryly, “but it is all an illusion, I lie to myself thinking I could stay, I… I can't, I-“
“What if I ask you to stay?” he brings your hand to his heart, where it beats erratically, pulse seeping through your skin.
He’s as scared as you are.
“Chris…”
“What if I told you, Yn, please stay with me,” he breathes out, guiding your hand to gently cup his cheek. “Would you? Would you stay?”
“I'm terrified,” you whisper, as he tilts his head, bestowing a tender kiss on your palm. 
“I know, so am I. But, you make me believe that even my bruised parts are worthy of love.”
He wins, before years of skeletons and piled up doubts, he wins. 
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I'm staying.”
“You are?”
“I am,” you giggle lightly and he staggers back, the sun pouring into his smile. 
“Um, wow, okay. Thank you for staying,” his voice sounds airy, happiness floating in his tone, and you find it contagious, imprinting into your own.
“Thank you for asking me to stay.”
“You made it less daunting,” he pats your head, smoothing your hair down. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
He giggles in response and you can't help but mirror the sound. “Why are you so nervous?”
“Whaaat? I'm not,” his tone grows high-pitched and you roll your eyes amusedly. 
“What happened to connected Chris?” 
“He is flustered by the girl he wrote about.”
Your cheeks tint red as he places a hand above your head, caging you in place. 
“I think the girl should get paid for being the muse.”
“Oh yeah?” he smirks, “I'll think about it.” His grin softens, as a content expression washes over his face. You know you must look the same. “Let's talk more tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay,” you grin, before placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Good night, Chris.”
“Good night, yn.”
You quietly watch as he walks to his apartment door, his hand settling on the door knob. He pauses, for a few seconds where the air around you stills, before swiveling around and walking over to you again. 
you win. 
“I forgot something,” he breathes out, before crashing his lips onto yours, furiously, as if needing to imprint his essence onto you, tainting your soul the way you have tainted him, permanently altering the composition of his being. His lips move on yours as if they've done this before, a dance they have rehearsed countless times, perhaps in all the dreams Chris visited you in. Yet, nothing compares to how it feels to have him touch you, lick your lower lip and drag his hand up your hips, press you against your apartment door, and nibble at your neck. 
Nothing could have prepared you for the passion he shows you, for how delicious it feels to be pressed against him, for the storm that your lips conjure, swirling in your heart in vibrant shades of red. Then, for the softness of his lips as they slow down their course, plump and rosy as they meet your own, tenderly, more gently, one kiss after the other. “My hope,” he whispers, as his lips find yours again, “my missing piece.”
He’s hot and cold, in yet seeking no out, finally yours.
bonus (one year later). 
“So I brought the eggs, milk, sugar,” Chris enumerates as he takes out the groceries, and you turn to look at Sowon to find her already gazing at you, a mischievous look on her face. 
“How much do you wanna bet he forgot flour?” you whisper and she giggles, burying her face in her hands to stifle her laugh.
“And… Wait, where is the flour?” he trails off and you burst out laughing, as you and Sowon high-five each other excitedly. 
“Daddy, you are really bad at groceries.”
“Am I?” he smiles sheepishly, fiddling with his earlobe in a manner that still makes your heart melt, renders your insides butterflies speaking of Chris’ name.
“Yes, it’s good Mom bought it,” she says naturally, looking down at her iPad. You and Chris freeze in your tracks, eyes instantly locking with one another, yours and his, glossy with emotion, a loving tide enveloping you both. 
It's her first time calling you mom. 
You swallow down the lump in your throat, crafted not by thorns but by petals, not by ache but with love, before placing your chin on the small of her shoulder, murmuring softly. "Mm, will you help me bake, baby?"
“Yes! I wanna be a baker when I grow up, just like you.”
“What happened to being a stylist?”
“I can't be both?” she frowns innocently. 
“You can be anything you want, princess.” you bop her nose and she giggles, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek. 
In the grip of winter, Chris discovers a warmth that defies the season, casting off years of cold from the recesses of his bones. A soft smile graces his lips as he gazes at you, his hopes, his girls, the three of you clad in wolf slippers.
He’ll propose to you tomorrow.
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