#and I’m just. I know I’m not articulating this well but like

[sencrose]

— READING BETWEEN THE LINES

pairing: suguru geto x f!reader

tags: dc, noncon, fingering, forced orgasm, pwp, use of pet names (sweetheart), suguru being condescending lol

wc: 1.4k

summary: Breaking up with Suguru doesn't go as well as you had hoped.

a/n: idk what possessed me ngl! writing warmup that got out of hand ig lol. dividers by @/adornedwithlight! ao3 link here.

This is always the worst part, the anticipation of the unknown. You dragged Suguru into a private corner of the monastery, stating that you needed to talk to him about something important. Part of you hopes he won’t notice that something is clouding your mind, but another part of you knows how perceptive he can be – of shifting eyes, a nervous shake of the leg. Anything he sees can be interpreted and used against you. It’s just too much for you, to constantly live under his judgment and surveillance.

Once inside the room, you ask Suguru to sit down in an armchair in the corner, because when he’s at a lower height you can convince yourself he’s not nearly as intimidating as he actually is. He almost looks normal when you look down at him. But then his amber eyes catch yours, and you feel like a deer in headlights.

Breath, hold, let it out slowly.

“I think we should see other people,” you say, nearly hushed.

Suguru takes a moment to pause, before looking up at you with a smile. It’s not the reaction you wanted.

“You think?” he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice, “you wouldn’t do all of this to tell me you’re thinking of doing something.”

He’s right; you don’t like that. It only makes you uneasier, inhale shakily and exhale just as unstable.

“We should see other people,” you sigh, a knot tightening in your chest. You can’t bring yourself to look at him, opting to stare down at the ornate patterns on the carpet, anywhere but him.

“Where’s your spirit?” he asks, pouting and high-pitched, as if he’s talking down to a child, “you sound horribly unconvincing.”

You were foolish to ever think you would have an advantage against Suguru in a war of words. He’s always a few steps ahead of you, quick to retort any thought that takes days for you to mold and craft. Still, you do your best. This would be the last time anyways.

“W-we should see other people,” you repeat, attempting to sound resolute only for your voice to betray you, wavering like a tree branch in a windstorm.

“We both see plenty of people here,” he says, leaning back into the chair to sink into the fabric, his posture even more relaxed than before, “I don’t see why you dragged me in here to say this.”

For the first time, frustration overwhelms your nerves, swirls in your chest and manifests into something loud and impulsive.

“Suguru, I’m breaking up with you,” you blurt out. 

An uneasy silence permeates through the room, and you feel the need to smother it. Unfortunately, any semblance of a coherent thought, much less a sentence, eludes you.

“Tell me what you really want.” Suguru says, the first to break it. You start to think the silence was better.

“I am.”

“No, you aren’t. I know you aren’t,” he says so matter-of-factly you’re close to believing him, “say it again.” Suguru shifts in the seat until he’s leaning forward, hands intertwined and planted in his lap.

“N-No, you’re just messing with me,” you say, backing away from him.

“That should be my line,” he sighs, standing from his seat. He takes a step towards you and your heart trembles. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I just-”

“Nothing’s wrong but you want to break up?” he interrupts, crossing his arms as he glares at you.

“No, I mean-” you fumble your words, unsure how to mitigate the situation. Suguru takes another step towards you, and you take another one back.

“Mean what?” The corners of his lips upturn, and you both know he has you cornered.

You stand there, finally at a loss for words. Even if you were able to articulate your thoughts, you know that Suguru would twist them in his favor. 

“See? You don’t even know what you want,” he says, condescension dripping from his words before he softens his tone into something gentler. The way you would speak to a wounded animal. “But it’s okay, because I do.”

Suguru takes the opportunity to close the distance, taking your hand into his and pulling you into a kiss. His lips crash into yours and you writhe under his touch, desperately pushing him away. But all you get is an arm latched around your waist, the sensation of your bodies pressed together in a suffocating heat. His lips finally part from yours, and you rush to turn your face away from his.

“Suguru, please stop,” you whimper.

“Why? You’ll just lie again,” he answers, his hand reaching for your chin to turn you towards him, “don’t you know how much that hurts me?” he asks, voice too sweet to be genuine.

You do your best to keep your eyes away from him, the only form of protest you can afford right now. He’s unphased by it, releasing his grip on your chin to lift the hem of your skirt and trace the undeniable wet spot on your underwear.

“And it seems like your body is more honest than your words,” he whispers dangerously low in your ear, as if it’s a dirty secret he had the privilege of uncovering. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction but you don’t have much of a choice. 

He pulls your underwear down, lets it fall unceremoniously onto the floor. Before long, his fingers find your clit and you wince at the contact. You bite down on your lips when he starts drawing lazy circles, not wanting to give him any more ammunition to use against you. 

“You don’t actually want to leave, do you?” he whispers sweetly, and it makes your breath catch for all the wrong reasons. His fingers slowly but surely pick up the pace, and it gets harder to choke back your moans. You attempt to maneuver yourself away from his touch, but that only makes him press himself harder against you, tightening his grip against your waist. 

“You’re just misbehaving because I haven’t given you enough attention, right? Then I’ll give you all the attention you want.”

“Suguru, please, I don’t want this,” you cry, and it’s nowhere close to convincing, too high-pitched and whiny.

“We’ve got to work on your communication skills, sweetheart. They’re a hallmark of a good relationship, you know. And I only want the best with you,” he coos, almost songlike. His fingers build up to a steady pace and you feel your muscles involuntarily tighten, prepare yourself for the climax to come. 

“We can even try it now. Tell me, how does this feel?” He slips a finger in and you writhe under his grip.

“Suguru, stop!” you squeal, tears forming in your eyes, making the colors of the room blend and blur together. 

“Don’t think that’s the right answer,” he says in that patronizing tone again, and you can hear the pout in his voice. As punishment he slips in another finger, and within moments he’s bullying the spot that has you crying from pleasure like he’s done so many times before. Your fingers grip around his arm, nails digging into his skin and leaving crescent indents in his skin, but Suguru is nothing if not determined.

“I just don’t see why you’d want to leave when I do all of this for you.” The arm around your waist finally releases, only for his other hand to trace the curves of your body until it reaches your clit. He starts building the pressure again, slow circles to contrast against the rapid pace of his fingers.

Your breathing destabilizes as your muscles tense up again against your will. You know you’re getting close, which means Suguru knows as well. 

“Let it all out for me, sweetheart,” And you do, body shivering and walls clamping around his finger like a vice. The rush of heat and pleasure running through you is too much, and you fall back onto old habits, closing your eyes and moaning his name like a mantra as he guides you through your climax. Suguru only pulls himself out of you once your breathing stabilizes, when you finally come out of your postorgasmic daze and the tears start running down your cheeks.

He gently holds your face, rubbing the tears with his thumb before laying a soft kiss on your cheek.

“If this is what you wanted, you should’ve told me. Spare me the theatrics next time, okay?”

[spacemancharisma]

not to be aggressively southern on main but ppl who think that singing with a twang and saying yeehaw to whatever beat they threw together automatically makes it a country song or even a country fusion………… this is simply not the case

[yea-baiyi]

ok but like imagine being hua cheng. and when you were a teenager you were trapped in a cave with your god when he got hit with sex pollen and you already felt ugly and unlovable but he stabbed himself through the gut rather than touch you and you saw him shirtless and horrifyingly that’s how you found out you were gay

and then you meet him again centuries later when you’ve grown up and become comfortable in your own skin, and you think you might be in love with him except a part of you still feels terrified that he’ll look at you and find you hideous again. but you want to trust him so you show him your real face. and. turns out he finds your adult self so hot that you make him horny for the first time in his life and he keeps doing and saying absolutely deranged things because he does not know how to cope. he panics and tries to give you, a ghost, mouth-to-mouth resuscitation and while you’re lying there trying not to freak out he is beside you acting out his one man humiliation-style comedy show because he has never wanted to kiss someone before let alone fuck. he agrees to get locked in a coffin together because he never even considered the possibility that he might pop a boner except he does pop a boner and now you are stuck under him while he squirms and you are trying very hard not to think about your own boner

i don’t know how to end this post i just think that’s so funny. and they live happily ever after and have lots of gay sex. hua cheng keeps winning. slay king

[starlooove]

Why are y’all surprised that borderline capitalists and liberals like Hobie when they hate leftists, especially black leftists, irl 💀

Real people saying these things make them think and feel guilty, when a real person says we cannot thrive or make significant change by utilizing systems stacked against said change, they have to think about their own lifestyles and ideals. When a real person says violence is the answer and money needs to become meaningless, all they think is “but I could get hurt or in trouble” and “but I’ll never be rich”.

When Hobie says it it’s just a character being entertaining. There’s a bit of truth but you don’t take it seriously because you don’t have to. It’s the same way they’re fine with saying ACAB posts and reading books on anti-racism but can’t muster up the courage to tell their friend to stop saying the n word. It’s all cute till it’s you irl, so ppl who know leftists irl and don’t like them will love hobie. It feels like KNOWING Hobie maybe kinda sorta has a point is enough to negate the idea that their complicity in these systems irl is actually harmful.

It’s like that thing where ppl do bad things and think knowing it’s bad is the same as being apologetic and changing or deserving forgiveness.

Like in conclusion, it’s easy to like Hobie when you’re not face to face with someone like him and you’re not expected to do any work. It’s the same thing as yt ppl liking the Medea movies. God forbid a black person is actually loud in public but it’s fine when they’re doing their little jigs just for you.

[angelmush]

the other day i walked around the golden lake w my love and the sun was setting hot and orange and we watched a brown duck preening through the weeds, ducking her head under the dark water. the cool lake swallowed up my tired feet to the ankles and we counted the dog walkers with their curly panting doodles and their handsome german shepherds and their whip smart little terriers and we admired the careful construction of a sand castle whose moat held determinedly against the lapping of the waves. we could feel in our chests the persistent thunderous thumping of celebratory music at the finish line of the lakeside 5k, welcoming each gasping runner across its bounds. and i felt like crying. i felt like curling into myself and crying. we walked through the swamp of the bird sanctuary afterwards and listened to the woods sing and croak and groan and then we went and got ube and yuzu gelato and devoured it suntired and sweating on the couch in our living room. and i was so overcome w a deep and true unshakeable happiness and a sort of confused grief that i wanted to sob and sob and sob.

[angelnumber27]

violently forcing myself to have better days

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

There has been so much excellent discussion on my dash this morning, especially musing on the privacy vs secret thing, and once again thinking about how strange it must be to go from thinking “I must shrink myself and avoid public sightings for the sake of my sanity and personhood” to realizing that perhaps you are shrinking yourself in public specifically because the person you’re with doesn’t (or people you’re with don’t) want your personhood to infringe on their peace of mind 😵‍💫

[wander-wren]

sighs. thinking about bare again…..

[tariah23]

Man….. :(

[citizen-zero]

it drives me nuts how it feels like you can’t talk about certain feminist issues anymore without inevitably getting called a TERF even if you’re not one. like I hate TERFs and I think the pushback against them is fully justified but sometimes it feels as if, in our efforts to make bigots unwelcome, we’ve unintentionally ceded ground to them and made it so people think of TERFs when they think of feminists. which is the opposite of what we want.

your feminism has to be intersectional but like, that means acknowledging that not all women are going to have the same kinds of problems. gay women and straight women have lots of issues that will never overlap. same with women of color and white women. I don’t think it should be controversial to recognize that the same is true for trans women + AFAB people and cis women. I think it’s okay for some conversations to only focus on one or the other.

idk this is mostly a problem I see in left leaning spaces bc the conversation in broader society already mainly focuses on feminism in white cishet terms but the answer isn’t to do a whole 180 and shut down conversations about issues that primarily impact cis women and AFAB people and make people nervous about talking about those issues, the answer is to continually affirm that trans women are women regardless of AGAB.

[viktoriakomova]

Not to get Sad but like. I miss not knowing what’s going on with gymnastics in a way lmao? Like I peer pressured (complimentary, pat-on-back celebration worthy 😎) some of my normie friends into getting bama szn tix and I brought them to a meet last year and they were so so jazzed about like. ALL of it.

In a way I do understand bc it’s all just so impressive to Normies who mostly can’t even touch their toes let alone do a passable cartwheel etc so like EVERYTHING is awesome by default. And that’s not true of basketball football etc like most able bodied people can do the basics of those sports even if their performance is terrible. Most people can throw a ball or dribble it even if they suck, or carry it and run at some speed. But yeah ykwim

Like one of my friends, his favorite skill is a double pike on floor. He just thinks it’s the most impressive thing and he loves watching it every single time, he doesn’t know shit about difficulty ratings he’s just watching what’s in front of him and in a way I’m extremely jealous of him 😭😭😭😭

[bikananjarrus]

also sabine calling ahsoka “master” in the trailer mmmmmmm don’t know how i feel about that. don’t think i like it. it’s a trailer so things are obvs spliced together in a certain way, but implying that they’re trying to make sabine as a jedi??

now i love that at the end of rebels, ezra left his lightsaber with sabine and she still uses it. but introducing formal training for her?? idk it feels like they’re sidelining her mandalorian heritage, and if they make her force sensitive istg. like if they wanted to have ahsoka walk away from someone again, jacen or ezra was right there (ezra more in the sense of abandoning him in wild space, which still happened :/ ). idk trying to give ahsoka an apprentice and it being sabine is just meh. like reducing sabine to the role of an apprentice also just makes me feel like dave didn’t trust her to be interesting enough otherwise for more casual viewers, which is so disrespectful of the rebels source material

[the-golden-dragoness]

Not crying and being guilt ridden again :))))))

[south-sea]

shadow having days where he’s more kid than adult, and more adult than kid

but also days where he’s more maria than shadow

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

I find it really interesting that in the “anger” playlist intro she says that the common thing about all the songs was that she wrote them while she was feeling anger. This particularly intrigues me about the folklore and evermore songs, because they’re the more clearly fictionally-cloaked songs (other than maybe mad woman). Because it makes me wonder what, ahem, personal situations from her past she was drawing from to write those that made her feel that anger (again other than mad woman, which is pretty obvious). Like, yes they are characters and inspired by other stories but they’re clearly… infused.