#and yet all this and i still want to be loved. like maybe someone would love me if i actually did something fucking worthy of it

[rreids]

Idk if this would be too triggering but gn!reader who has scars (unspecified from what) and feeling self conscious so Spencer comforts them and tell them they’re handsome/cute (I’m a boy but idk if you write for male reader so maybe just masc gn reader)

FLAWS • S. REID X READER

gn reader; fluff; non-specific scars (face / arms (implied acne but can be read otherwise)); kissing; teasing; spencer is lovely; mentions of death; 600 words

You tried to avoid picking yourself apart in the mirror, but sometimes you couldn’t help it. Bad days meant finding all of your flaws — all of them: pock-marked skin, lines and dents of cellulite and scar tissue, discoloration, every bit of skin or fat or muscle you wished looked different. You were counting the ones on your cheekbones when Spencer got home from work.

“Why are you staring at yourself like that?” His soft voice interrupts the number you were on (seventeen) and you huff, straightening up and pulling back from the mirror slightly. 

“Just looking at some scars,” you try to keep your voice light, rubbing your fingers over the small dots across your skin, like your touch can wipe them away. “I was wondering if the scar cream I’ve been using is working.”

It’s a weak lie and you know it. Spencer bought that for you only two weeks ago, when you mentioned needing to restock skin care and expressed an interest in something for scarring when you were looking at the site together. He bought it for you with a new bottle of your cleanser. “Really?” He raises his brows, stepping closer. You know he doesn’t believe you, but you relax into the way his arms wind around you and his smell when he gets close enough anyways.

“Yeah.”

“You know I don’t like when you lie to me,” Spencer mumbles against your temple. “Are they bothering you?”

“A little,” you admit, tilting your head to kiss his jaw. “Along with all the other ones.”

Spencer softens against you and moves his head so he can kiss you. When you pull away to breathe, he kisses the scars on your cheek. “You know I find you beyond attractive, right?”

You nod. “You always make sure to tell me,”

“Because you deserve to hear it,” he hums, twining his fingers with yours. “I like to see you happy, and I like to compliment you. It’s all true,” his nose drags along your cheek as he kisses the corner of your jaw before moving to trace scars and markings along your shoulders and arms. “None of this is ugly to me. It shows me how strong and wonderful you are and always have been. It’s just a sign that you’re alive.”

You smile.

“I do like that, you know. You being alive,” you snort at his words. “I’m not into the dead.”

“Yet you see them more than me,” you tease and Spencer chuckles, running his thumb over a scar on your hand you’d gotten trying to clean up a vase of his you broke when you were first moving in. You’d panicked over tears and apologies, but he promised you it was okay, cleaned it up, and then cleaned and dressed your wound with the most tenderness you’d ever been given. 

“If I could be, I’d be home with you every day.”

“You wouldn’t get sick of me?”

There’s a pause. “Well, with breaks. For both of us. Neither of us can go without our independence.” 

You laugh, lightly, your upset with your scars gone. “Bathroom breaks.”

He rolls his eyes. “Clingy,” it’s playful, light, and you know he’d never mean it in a more hurtful way. He loves the way you cling to and wrap around him.

“Only with you.”

“I’m very lucky, then,” Spencer is still rubbing your skin absently and soothingly. “You could make anyone fall in love with you, but I won you over before you found someone else.”

“I wouldn’t want them,” you kiss him softly. “I love you.”

“I love you too,”

not proofread like always. i hope this is general enough :D and ty for requesting <3

[cobaltperun]

Genius (4) - Bittersuite

Cairo Sweet x female (G!P) Reader

Summary: It was such a cliché, a reunion she didn’t expect to ever happen, let alone six years after she last saw you. It was supposed to mean nothing, a bit of nostalgia, maybe a brief catching up while waiting for class, it was supposed to be a small wave of nostalgia, not a tsunami that disrupted her entire life. You were her opposite, and as hard as she tried she couldn’t resist your pull.

Story masterlist / First part / Previous Part

Word count: 3.5k

-God, I hope it all goes away, 'cause I can't fall in love with you-

A madman’s love.

Cairo had no idea how that felt, but the way Miller described it sounded exactly like what she was yearning for. Ever since she was old enough to yearn for love. To be loved by someone to the point of madness, for that someone to merely be a bone monolith beneath her, to be loved so fiercely and strongly that both her and the one loving her end up consumed by the flames of emotions within them.

To be madly loved and to madly love in return.

How did that feel? To fight for someone’s love, no matter the circumstances, the taboo, the judgment of society. To feel so right no matter how many people said it’s wrong.

She didn’t know, but she imagined Miller knew, he described it, after all. He wrote it with passion that struck her, that made her yearn for what he was painting in her mind. What about his age? Well, she did desire something that others would deem wrong, didn’t she? And then there was Winnie, and Cairo would have cursed her for filling her head with the ideas of giving her virginity to someone older if Winnie didn’t present such a convincing argument. To give her virginity to someone that was, as Winnie put it, wagyu beef, and not deli meat.

She didn’t know she wasn’t supposed to bleed the first time she has sex, the books she read made sex out to be raw, rough, immediate, a desperate act of chasing pleasure, they hardly ventured into the ideas of woman’s arousal, much less aftercare.

Could he give it to her? Could he see her for who she really was? Reveal sides of her she didn’t even know existed yet? He certainly found something worth it in this damn village she despised, he could do the same with her. Find worth no one else did, make her feel wanted by someone. Make her feel like she was the only one who mattered.

Her phone buzzed and she glanced at it. You sent her a message, but she didn’t reach for her phone to reply. She just leaned her head back instead. She couldn’t deny the visceral reaction she had whenever she was reminded of you. Of her heart beating faster, or the dreams she had, or the fact that she wasn’t entirely sure what she was looking forward to more on Monday mornings, listening to Miller, or sitting next to you, your arms occasionally touching and making her feel like she was on fire.

How did you see her? Did you still see the girl who read to you, the girl that dragged you around the forest around her house, the girl who pushed you away? Or did you see her for who she was right now? A ghost, someone a rare few paid attention to, though she kept hearing she was extraordinary. A lonely girl longing for attention and escape. You were certainly providing her with the escape she needed, seeing as Saturdays became your usual getaways, and you took her to places she had no idea about, she was living when she was with you, free from the shackles of nowhere Tennessee.

But your love for her was a lot like Winnie’s. Immature, normal, fueled by reasons appropriate for your age. She couldn’t imagine you or Winnie being driven to madness by your love for her, if the way you loved her even included anything romantic in the first place.

She needed a love that wasn’t ordinary. She needed her madman’s love.

And she feared that whatever was happening between the two of you wasn’t a product of love or friendship, but a desperate attempt to emulate what was once lost.

Cairo didn’t want that. She didn’t want to emulate the past, she wanted… What did she want? She knew what she didn’t want, but what did she actually want?

~X~

This wasn’t working, and the only reason you still tolerated this class was because Cairo was there as well. You suppressed a sigh as Miller droned on about the writer’s style being bold, and too much, and it really was.

You were trying to reignite your love for reading but all this was doing was making you wish to never open a book again in your entire life. You couldn’t get the fact that he went thought student’s stuff out of your head, and that impression alone ruined the class for you.

“Meet me after classes,” he leaned over Cairo’s shoulder, too close to her, secretive, whispering so no one else but Cairo could hear him. Though not quiet enough for you not to hear him, even if you looked like you weren’t paying attention. The fuck was with this guy? After classes?

You were reading too much into it, right?

~X~

Was he seeing her? Like Winnie said? Cairo wasn’t sure yet, but she couldn’t deny their similarities, how at ease she felt, how the only time she felt this much at ease was when she was with you on your rides outside the village. It compared to that as far as her ease went, but it went further, it met other needs she had as well. The ones she hated to admit she had. Her need for approval and attention from someone older, something she never got before, being a big part of it, and what made this seem more impactful to her than what she had with you.

And then there was a part of her that consciously made what she had with you feel like it was to be expected. Like it was a given that you’d reconnect. And she needed to look at it that way, otherwise she’d spiral into fear and panic, because if it wasn’t a given, and if both of you chose to actively put effort into rebuilding what you once had, then that in and of itself, would be a form of madness she wasn’t ready to face just yet.

“See you on Monday, Mr. Miller,” Winnie said as she opened the doors so she could drag Cairo to get her beloved food.

“Bye, kid,” a kid, that’s how he saw Winnie, but he didn’t call Cairo a ‘kid’, so at the very least he didn’t see her as one, though her and Winnie were the same age. He saw her as an adult, and she very much liked that. “Oh, and Cairo, are you going to come this Saturday?” he asked her.

She realized she never got to answer him, and it wasn’t just because Winnie came in, there was an issue of already making plans with you. “I already made plans with Y/N, but I’ll see if she’s fine with postponing,” she told him, not quite ready to give a definitive answer.

He seemed a bit startled all of a sudden. “Y/N?”

Cairo nodded, not sure what made him react the way he did just now, though it was subtle she could see he was a bit uncomfortable.

“Did- Uh, did she mention me in any way?” he tried to brush it off as a normal question, but the way he avoided her eyes gave him away.

“No,” she replied. Not even sure why you would mention him. You didn’t particularly enjoy his class, she could tell by the way you actively tried not to listen to him, and she knew you were doing bare minimum on the assignments. You didn’t like either him or the class, and Caro didn’t know why, she didn’t ask why, and you never told her why.

“Oh, okay, forget I said anything,” Miller regained some color when she denied you ever mentioning him and she just nodded, choosing not to ask him about it.

She’d just ask you. After all, you were the one who kept something from her.

~X~

You were in your garage, just cleaning your motorcycle and your gear when you heard the doorbell ringing. You weren’t expecting any visitors, so maybe it was just one of your neighbors. When the doorbell rang the second time you got up, leaving the rug you were using on the bucket, and quickly washed your hands in the sink, before going outside.

“Sorry for the wait, I was-“ you paused, seeing Cairo on your doorstep. “Hey, I didn’t expect to see you here,” you climbed up the stairs as Cairo looked to the side. You couldn’t read her, but you could tell something wasn’t right.

“Hey, Y/N,” she greeted you.

“Come in,” you opened the doors for her and stepped aside, she knew the house. Even if she hasn’t been inside in a long time. You followed after Cairo, taking notice of how she stopped and stared at the copy of Jules Verne’s ‘Around the World in Eighty Days’. You were trying to read it, but between Miller killing your desire to read and the book being closely tied to your and Cairo’s friendship while you were kids, you hated to admit it, but you weren’t having an easy time with it. Still, you were about two thirds in, so at least you were making some progress.

“Do you want something to drink? Or eat? I was about to make something for lunch anyway,” you were already heading toward the kitchen as Cairo sat down on the armchair.

“No, I just ate with Winnie, I’m okay,” she said and you chose not to push her. She was tense, and it didn’t escape your notice that she chose one seat that would put the most distance between the two of you regardless of where you sat down.

So, you mirrored her, taking a seat on the far end of the sofa, letting the distance between you engulf you. The silence felt deafening, and you hoped it wouldn’t come to this. This was the tension you were worried about the first time you took her out of the village, it wasn’t supposed to be happening now, two weeks after you reunited. “What’s wrong?” you asked carefully.

“Mr. Miller said something, well, he asked me if you mentioned him. Why?” she asked, looking you in the eyes and clutching the straps of her bag in her hand.

You could swear you were hearing alarm bells ringing in your head. Why would he ask her that? “I caught him and coach what’s-his-name going through your books on the first day, that’s all,” you had no reason to protect him, since Cairo asked so openly. Frankly, you weren’t sure why you haven’t told her that in the first place.

“That’s it?” she asked incredulously.

“You wanted more?” you were astonished. Now, you didn’t expect her to be furious, or go on a rant, or anything like that, but you didn’t expect her to think nothing of it. What did she even want from you, because you honestly couldn’t tell where you were standing with her.

“You’re being ridiculous,” she defended him. “Mr. Miller isn’t being inappropriate, he sees me,” she told you.

You raised an eyebrow, puzzled. Sees her? “Cairo, what do you mean he sees you?” you questioned, leaning a bit closer over the dreadfully large distance between the two of you.

Cairo looked away, contemplating whether she should tell you something and then, finally, she made her decision. “He sees my talent; he sees what others’ don’t. He- he gave me special treatment, offered me an early mid-term assignment,” she leaned back, likely reading your frown as if you were disapproving of her.

It wasn’t her. It was his actions. It didn’t feel right. It felt unprofessional, it felt like he was actively crossing boundaries with her, taking advantage of her need to be seen, as she put it. “Cairo, he might not be good for you,” you didn’t feel like you had the right to influence her, or get involved in her decisions, but you also felt like you had to, much like all those years ago, pull her away from something that could harm her.

“You just came back, don’t pretend you understand what is best for me,” she snapped, her voice shaking a bit and even from this distance you could see the tears pooling in her eyes. “I’m going to a poetry reading this Saturday, to see him, just so you know,” the fact that she was canceling your plans didn’t matter nearly as much as the reason why she chose to cancel them.

What pushed her this far? To seek approval from him of all people? “Okay,” but she was too emotional to talk to properly right now. So, you chose to back away for now, to just hope that nothing even worse would happen. And Cairo? She just left, closing the doors with a sound that rang through your mind as if it signaled the start of madness.

~X~

He truly did see her, he saw all of her. The ghost, the rose bush that wasn’t allowed to blossom, no matter how hard she tried. And she saw herself in him, she saw her reflection, and she wondered if he saw himself in her as well. She was willing to bet he did, they were both ghosts, cursed to never be seen for what they were by anyone who wasn’t like them.

He didn’t take her somewhere else, he showed her a side of her home she wasn’t aware of, and she managed to see worth in it she never knew existed. She yearned for more. She yearned for an even deeper connection. She yearned… she longed… she…

This wasn’t a given. This was something she had to reach for, something she had to work for, something forbidden, and yet so appealing at the same time.

Would he fight for her? Accept her entirely and burn in their shared passion and desires and yearning, or would he refuse to participate in this dance? She feared the answer, because, if he wouldn’t… who would?

And in the middle of it all, of all those thoughts and feelings, she just for a moment, saw your face as you told her he wasn’t good for her. Your eyes, intensely looking right at her. What did you see? What compelled you to look at her like that? And along the image of you, leaning closer to her, so close that she, despite the almost overwhelming distance, caught herself unsure if she should back away, maintain the distance, or lean in, encouraging you to keep closing the distance until there was none of it left. Along that image she vividly saw the wild rose bush crushed by an old fallen tree and her eyes widened as she remembered you pulling her away from it all.

Would you pull her back once again? Would Miller be the old tree to crush her? Or would he stand strong next to her as she blossomed? She didn’t decide yet, but she knew the way he was looking at her right now lacked the intensity your stare had.

~X~

You’ve been denying it for years, but Cairo, even after she pushed you away remained a constant presence in your life. You still remembered that time in the forest around her house, when she dragged you around and then just froze when she saw an old tree that had fallen over a bush of wild roses. It wasn’t the scene that remained in your memory. You weren’t old enough for it to profoundly affect you. Even now you didn’t come to give any deeper meaning to the imagery you witnessed.

It was still an impactful memory because she sobbed, and she wasn’t even aware of it. She let out a sound, filled with so much sorrow you couldn’t even comprehend what was going through her head back then. To this day, you didn’t know why it affected her so much, but you knew how it affected you. How it made you feel like you had to take her away from there, that you had to do something so she would smile again.

She set a bar so damn high for you that it wasn’t just the fact that you were moving a lot that stopped you from being best friends with someone. It was the fact that they just couldn’t compare to her. And then you got a bit older and started understanding your sexuality and you tried, you really did. You dated on and off, but again, the connection you were seeking wasn’t there. No matter how amazing the girl was you just found it hard to let someone in the way you did with Cairo. Did you ever have any feelings for Cairo that weren’t purely friendship related? No, not even a childish crush, but the connection between you was just strong enough to affect you years after you last saw her. You felt that connection in the songs you learnt to play, in some of the music you created, brimming with longing and inspired by a friendship long ago left in the past that refused to fade away.

You glanced at her, at her focused gaze meant only for Miller in this very moment, and you weren’t sure how to feel. You just waited for the class to end. And then he approached your and Cairo’s table from behind, and you saw his left hand reaching for her hand as he leaned over her shoulder.

As if he absolutely had to say something only to her.

Your eyebrow twitched. How dare he? He was her teacher, and she was only eighteen. Without thinking you pushed the table to your left so abruptly he lost his hold on the edge of the table and stumbled forward, and, unable to stay on his feet he dropped to his knees to the gasps of the students.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, don’t worry,” he got up, dusting his pants and raising his hands as he turned away from the class, embarrassed by what just happened. Just for a moment his eyes met yours and you glared, begging for him to read your mind and see what you thought. ‘Learn where the damn boundary is,’ is what you were trying to convey through your eyes. Consequences be damned.

Not like there would be any. If he went and reported you, you’d just say what you suspected, consequences of those actions be damned. He, at the very least, did show favoritism toward Cairo.

When the class ended you stormed out of the classroom, ignoring Cairo and Winnie’s eyes following you.

~X~

As you walked out of the classroom after all your classes ended you suddenly felt a hand grab your forearm and pull you aside much to your utter surprise.

“Come with me,” Cairo demanded, ordering you as if you had no choice but to follow her every whim.

“You could be a bit gentler,” you complained, not appreciating how tightly she was gripping your arm.

Cairo looked back at you, anger flashing in her eyes. “I could say the same to you, why would you make him fall like that?” she hissed, dragging you to a slightly secluded corner.

“Maybe next time he’ll think twice before putting his hands where they shouldn’t be,” you were instantly annoyed by the reminder of where he was about to put his hands. And Cairo jumping to his defense wasn’t helping.

“Yeah, and where is that?” she challenged you as you leaned against the wall and she stepped right in front of you. If you moved even a bit, you’d be pressed right against her.

“Not on you, that’s for sure. Or any of his students,” he had his responsibilities and one of those was to keep the proper boundaries with his students.

“And if I want him to?” Cairo demanded and you just… weren’t sure how to answer that. You knew how it made you feel though. And suddenly it wasn’t just about his advances toward Cairo being inappropriate in your eyes. You finally felt as if the pieces on your side were falling into place, and you were no longer seeing the girl you spent your childhood with. You saw an eighteen-year-old girl and somehow you were no longer certain you only saw her as a friend. It was as if the very thought of him touching her ignited flames of madness within you, a jealousy you didn’t even know you could feel over Cairo.

“Do you really?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

You took her words in, you forced yourself to calm down, to take it easy, to think rationally. “Why did you push me away when we were kids Cairo?” you asked and she backed away a bit, and though she didn’t leave, you could see it in her eyes. She wasn’t going to answer. And her answer mattered to you more than anything, because her answer was the only thing that could make any of this worth it. That was the only thing that could validate or invalidate your feelings. That was the only thing that could solve every question running through your mind. And she wasn’t giving it to you.

A/N: Is Cairo confused at the moment? Yup! Is R? Absolutely! So, tell me what you think, I would appreciate it!

Taglist: @deimaisgail @bee-keeping @marvelous-disaster @jmwetterlund @tekanparadiae

@alexkolax @ioveyouyouloveme @aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh

[hqbaby]

seven — i have a secret

mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader

⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 2k content. profanity, FEELINGS FEELINGS FEELINGS

You met Satoru by chance. Or at least that was what you thought until he confessed three months into your relationship that he’d devised the whole thing.

“You’re not serious,” you said, gaping at your boyfriend. “You couldn’t have planned that.”

The two of you were sitting in his car, seats reclined backwards as you shared a bag of fries and passed a milkshake between one another. The speakers were blaring a hodgepodge playlist the two of you had made, one you’d both added all your favorite songs to with no rhyme or reason that resulted in an eccentric mix of ‘90s rock, rap, and—courtesy of Satoru—Britney Spears’ entire discography.

Things were so much simpler then. Better.

“I planned it all!” he told you, laughing as you continued to stare at him in bewilderment. “I had a massive crush on you, what else was I supposed to do?”

“I dunno,” you gestured frantically, “maybe talk to me like a normal person?”

He snorted. “Please.”

“Please what?”

“You wouldn’t have given me the time of day!”

You gasped in faux shock. “I totally would’ve!”

He pointed the fry he was holding at you in wild accusation. “You turned down everyone who asked you out,” he said, all matter-of-factly. “Desperate times call for desperate measures, princess.”

You shook your head, grinning now as your boyfriend stuffed a handful of fries in his mouth. He’s such a boy, you thought.

“Let me get this straight,” you said as you sat up, placing your hands on your lap. “You took a class that isn’t even in your curriculum, purposely bumped into me after a game, proceeded to tutor me for a whole month just to ask me out?”

He shrugged, beaming proudly at his apparent job well-done. “What can I say? I’m a mastermind.”

You tossed a fry at him as you laughed. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I believe ‘amazing’ is the right term,” he said, sitting up now too. He leaned in towards you and brushed a strand of hair from your eye. Quietly, he added, “And you were totally worth it.”

His lips met yours and you swore that if you died right then and there, you’d have died happy.

What a shame it all had to end.

Your neighborhood is safe. Well, that’s what you tell yourself when you go rogue—against all of Maki and Nobara’s insistence and all your empty promises—and decide to go on a run in the dead of night.

You don’t usually take this kind of risk, resorting to early morning jogs before class or training, but you couldn’t sleep anyway and the tournament is coming up soon. You’ve never been one to half-ass anything, so you have no intentions of half-assing this. Safety be damned. You’ll run if you want to run.

The streets are still as you make your way around the block. You circle the park, the cluster of houses, the apartment buildings. There’s a convenience store that’s still open—you wonder what it’s like to work there, to tend to an empty shop. Maybe it isn’t so bad a life. Maybe you wouldn’t mind winding down in your old age and owning a 24/7 convenience store. Maybe you’ll have grandchildren by then, but that would require children and you don’t necessarily want to think about that just yet.

You distract yourself with the different sights, the mindless thoughts, the grocery list of things you need to buy the next day—anything to not think about the fact that you’re absolutely exhausted and could pass out at any point in your run.

You haven’t slept much since that brief reprieve afforded by Sukuna’s company a few days ago. You’ve gone to classes, dutifully attended meetings for your organizations, religiously beat your body into perfection in training. At this point, you’re just running on auto-pilot.

You wonder when this will ever end.

You circle back to the convenience store and your foot—so tired, so susceptible to minor inconveniences now—catches on a stone on the ground. At least you have enough foresight to land your ass.

It’s then that everything crashes down on you. You can do nothing now but sit on the ground and wearily massage your legs as you wait for the last bit of strength to return to you, just enough to make you get up and walk home. You just sit there, on the pavement of a dark street, fully aware that it’s probably not a good idea but also fully aware that you don’t have it in yourself to care.

You pull your phone out of your pocket. There’s a text from Maki asking if you placed the orders for the shirts you’re selling at the children’s rights fundraiser. Right. You forgot to do that. There’s a text from Kento asking if you have notes from that one class the two of you share. An email from Yuki with the details of the tournament. A meme from Sukuna, an image of a clown with the accompanying message “u.”

Then there’s the text you’ve been avoiding.

satoru <3 : can we talk sometime?

You should really change his contact name.

And it’s like the universe hears you. You don’t know if you’ve ever fully bought into the whole “the universe is listening” thing, but you might just become a full-fledged believer, because as soon as you look up from your phone, you find a figure walking through the shadows towards you.

A random straggler maybe? A murder with an axe? One of those zombies that keep chasing you in your dreams?

You know who it is as soon as the first bit of light from the dying street lamp hits his hair.

Satoru.

He’s walking with his hands in his pockets, head hung low like he’s tired or thinking or both. It takes him a while to even register your presence. It’s only after you put your phone away that he looks up, alerted by the slight movement.

His eyes meet yours. Blue piercing straight into you, like he can see your thoughts. Like he can read your mind. You always suspected he could.

“Hi,” he says.

He’s standing a few feet away from you, close enough to take in your weakened form but far enough to run away if you decide to lunge forward and strangle him for whatever reason.

You lift your hand, a tiny wave. “Hey.”

His eyes scan your body, already checking to see what’s happened. He notices your legs spread out on the pavement, the bags under your eyes. You look okay, though, he thinks. Not in any immediate distress.

“What are you doing here?” he asks. His voice is unsure, afraid of entering the realm of familiarity, uncertain if you want him there.

You shrug, “Oh, you know. Just seeing the sights.”

He nods. “Right.”

“You wanna sit with me?”

The question isn’t so much said as it just flies out of you. A natural thing, to pose this question. Akin to asking about the weather, akin to how you used to tell him you loved him. Exactly what was expected, exactly what it should have been.

His answer is just as expected too. “Sure.”

Satoru steps closer and crouches down to sit in front of you. He sits cross-legged, placing his hands on his knees as he looks around hesitantly.

“It’s really late,” he says.

“I know.”

“It gets dodgy here at night.”

“I know.”

“You shouldn’t be out by yourself.”

You crack a smile at that. “I’m not alone now, am I?”

Satoru looks at you incredulously before smiling too. “Maki is so gonna kill you if she hears about this.”

“Then don’t fucking snitch,” you warn him. Your words are harsh, but your tone is light. Easy. “I’m already in hot water with her.”

“What did you do?” he asks. He relaxes a little, placing his hands behind him and leaning back. “Did you lose her sweater again?”

You roll your eyes. “That was one time.”

“Nuh-uh.” He shakes his head. “I remember at least four times you came to me all panicked because you didn’t know where it was.”

“To be fair, half of those times I was just looking for an excuse to talk to you.”

He raises a brow. “You’re kidding.”

“Not,” you tell him. “You’re not the only one who made shit up to talk to their crush.”

The two of you laugh, remembering that horrifying period of time before you got together and routinely embarrassed yourselves for one another. 

You know this whole thing, laughing on the street with the boy you broke up with less than a month ago, should feel wrong, at the very least awkward. But it doesn’t. When you look at Satoru, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiles, you can’t help but remember just how much he meant to you. Maybe just how much he’ll always mean to you.

Satoru shuffles closer and says in a low conspiratorial tone, “I have a secret.”

You pretend to look around, check to see if anyone is listening. Then, you ask him, “What?”

He moves closer until his face is just inches away from yours. And he says the words you already knew he was going to say.

“I miss you.”

You let out a breath.

“I miss you too.”

You both lean forward, close enough to feel his breath on your lips, but not enough to touch his. His hand reaches for yours and squeezes it, holds it to his chest. There’s comfort to his touch, a familiar warmth. One that you’ve loved for a while now.

“‘Toru,” you say quietly.

“Yeah?”

You wonder if he can hear your heart pounding through your chest. You suspect that you can hear his.

“We can’t do this.”

His eyes flicker to your lips. You can almost read his mind. Why can’t we?

But he pulls back and so do you. He lets go of your hand, nodding as he takes his warmth away with him. There’s disappointment in his expression, but also a deep understanding. A deep knowledge that this isn’t right. You can’t do this.

You wring your hands and turn your gaze to a receipt on the ground. It lists a very specific assortment of things: a pack of cigarettes, a bottle of water, some lube, and a teddy bear. It must be Valentine’s Day somewhere.

“You’re good, right?” you find yourself asking. “With… Kimi.”

Satoru hums. He’s avoiding your eyes too, lost his footing in this whole interaction just like you. “Yeah, we’re good,” he says, words leaving a pit in your stomach that you try to ignore. “And you’re good with him?”

There’s a venom in the way he says the last word. As if he means to say, you’re good with him—him of all people. The scourge of the earth, that’s probably all Satoru can think about when he even considers the idea of Sukuna.

You nod. “We’re good too.”

Satoru’s eyes search yours and you do your best to hide the fact that you’re lying. You already know what he wants to see. He wants to see that you’re miserable without him.

That you made a mistake.

He doesn’t find what he’s looking for, so he just clears his throat, looks away, and says, “Good.”

You pull your legs up to your chest and wrap your arms around them. Suddenly, this whole thing feels like the kind of wrong it always was.

“You should go,” you say.

Satoru shakes his head, standing up and dragging you up with him. “I’m taking you home.”

“Satoru, it’s fine—”

But he won’t hear it. He’s already holding your hand and pulling you in the direction of your apartment building. As much as you want to, you don’t necessarily have the strength to argue with him, so you let him lead the way, one painful step after another.

When you get to the front of the building, Satoru drops your hand and motions for you to head inside. “Get some sleep.”

You turn to the door, then you hesitate, looking back at him. “Satoru.”

“Yeah?” His voice is soft, like he’s worried it might scare you away.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

His eyes widen just a bit as he tilts his head. “For what?”

You swallow. “For everything.”

You don’t expect him to smile, but he does. It’s all gentle and sweet. It’s exactly the way he’s always looked at you. The way he probably always will.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, princess,” he says. “It’s just the way things are.”

notes. if there’s one thing i know about me when i’m writing my love triangle fics, it’s that i refuse to let either side go down without a fight 😌

ALSO FINAL REMINDER THAT THIS SERIES HAS SMUT, so minors sincerely fuck off please, i'm not responsible for what you consume online.

[lilbitdepressed27]

Jenna Ortega x Fem!CopReader

Summary: alternative happy ending

Warnings: none

WC: 1.8k

Author’s Note: cause I care about y’all’s mental health’s @delicateenemyjellyfish I hope y’all enjoy. Sorry for any mistakes

It was two hours after she got off the phone with Angela when there was a knock on the door. She had moved quickly to reach the door. Swinging it open when she saw that it was Angela on the security cameras.

Seeing the look on Angela's face, it cause her own to crumble. Thinking the worse. You couldn't be. The grief, worry on the older woman's face was causing her to panic. "Is-Is she—" She couldn't even finish the sentence. The lump in her throat growing as the sobs that wanted to escape tried to crawl their way out.

"She's in surgery." It was all Angela could say. If she spoke more she knew she would break down. Just the thought of losing someone else that she cared deeply for had almost been enough for her to curl up in a ball and cry. You were-are like a little sister she never had. But she had to be strong for Jenna. The younger woman needed someone to be strong. And she knew you would want Angela to be there for the actress.

"Come on. I'll take you to her."

*

Six times. You had been shot six times. Your partner had died, protecting you. The drive by you had been investigating had been done by some hateful people, the same people that shot you and killed your partner. You were still in surgery, three hours since she arrived at the hospital. Three hours without knowing if you were okay. She had paced the waiting room the first hour and a half. Until your captain Grey sat her down trying his best to calm her.

"I know you're worried, but you have to take deep breaths, okay?"

You had always said your captain was more like a father to you and the rest of your close coworkers.

"For Y/N Y/LN?"

At the sound of your name being called. She was the first one up, looking at the doctor that was still in his scrubs, scrubs that were bloodied. With your blood. Her eyes couldn't look away. She had never seen so much blood. Real blood. Forcing her eyes to look away.

"How is she?" Angela spoke from behind the actress.

The doctor looked away from the Wednesday star, looked towards the older Latina woman. "She's stable." The sigh of relief was let out by everyone in that room. "But she's not out of the woods yet, her heart stopped on the surgery table twice. This could have have some impact on her body, like memory loss, speech difficulties, difficulties concentrating weakness in the bones. It could take her weeks maybe even months for her to fully recover. She's in room 527, go on in. I will be in there shortly. Two at a time only please."

*

Seeing you, unmoving covered in bandages those said bandages that had blood on them, had been a sight that she always feared. The feeling that she had in her heart that been almost panic consuming. She would have lost it if Angela had not been in the room.

Her hand coming up to cover her mouth to hold in a sob. The horrifying feeling that she had been so close to losing you had finally settled in. The bloody bandages, the tube that was helping you breath, the machine that was connected kept track of your heart rate.

"It's okay, she's strong. She'll pull through."

*

It had been a long week. The young actress refused to go back to work, to leave your side. Thankfully she didn't have anything major she had to attend. Small interviews, photo shoots had been rescheduled until further notice. She wanted to be right next to you when you woke up. Six days after the shooting, they had taken out the breathing tube.

The doctors had told her it was now up you to wake up. Your skin was no longer cold from all the blood you lost. Your hand that wasn't bandages up from a gun shot wound was in her her hands. A chance that your hand would not be the same had been talked about with the doctor.

As much as she didn't like (now hated) that you were a cop, she knew how much you loved it. From the pictures of you as a child dressed as a police officer, she knew how much you really loved your job. She had been supportive seeing as you were a cop before she even met you. But now, now she was afraid. Afraid that you could possibly go back to your job once you were fully recovered.

She loved you so much, more than she had ever loved someone. Just the thought that she could have lost you had her going into a panic.

"—J-Jen?"

The voice had never sounded so heavenly to her ears. The way she had gotten up from her chair had been the quickest she ever moved. Seeing you smiling gently up at her as she stood over you. Her cry of relief at seeing your beautiful y/ec eyes. The eyes she's missed so much. A week had never felt so long.

"Hey baby." Sniffling as she wiped her tears. Taking your good hand in hers. Gently brining it up and kissing the back of your hand. The relief that she felt at hearing your voice. Pressing the button on the side of your bed for the nurse. "How are you feeling?"

"A bit sore and thirsty." Your voice did come out hoarse. She knew she couldn't do anything till the doctor arrived. Thankfully she didn't have to wait long.

"Officer Y/ln, how are you feeling." The doctor was quick but gentle to check your vitals. Jenna staying by your side. Never letting your hand go. As you repeated how you felt.

"That's normal, you have us quite a scare Ms.Y/ln. do you remember anything?"

You memory was hazy, you couldn't remember anything the more you tried to remember what lead to you. Until the memory of being shot came crashing in like tidal waves. The piercing pain of being shot as your partner went ahead of you to shot the criminals. Barely remembering how your partner pleaded for you to stay awake before your world faded into darkness.

You thought you were going to die.

"My partner?"

The look of sympathy was all you needed. Your eyes filling with tears. Your partner was dead. A squeeze to your hand had you pulling your gaze from the ceiling looking towards your left. Taking in how red her eyes were. The puffiness around her eyes. Clear signs that she had been crying.

"I'm sorry officer, you were shot six times. The gun shot wound you received on your hand, from what we know the bullet damaged some nerves, meaning there's a high possibility that your hand will be at a hundred percent functional. We won't know until it's fully healed. You may feel a bit out of breath, that's due some of the bullet fragments that punctured your right lung. This could take up to a few more weeks for it to fully heal. What we were most worried about was that you suffered a cardiac arrest twice. Because of this the healing process could be much longer—"

You were listening. But you couldn't really hear the doctor. You were too busy looking at Jenna. Really taking her in. How the actress took in every word the doctor was saying. You knew how dangerous being a cop was. But you've never had a close call like this one. To hear that your heart stopped not once but twice it was scary. As much as you loved your job, you loved being with Jenna more.

"Do you have any questions?"

Barely registering that the doctor was had directed the question toward you. With shake of the head. The doctor nodded and told you that a nurse will be in if you need anything before living the room. After he gave Jenna a cup filled with ice chips.

"Are you okay?"

A small laugh of disbelief escaped her lips at the question. "Me? You're the one who almost..." She couldn't finish that sentence. A part of her wanted to forget how close she was to losing you. But she knew deep down she'd never forget. Seeing you like she had would be engraved in her brain forever.

"That's why I'm asking, I'm sorry."

Seeing your soft y/ec eyes filled with guilt and worry had been enough for her to cry. "Don't apologize. This is not your fault. I—I was so scared. I almost lost you Y/n. And I can't I can't lose you."

It was going to be tough decision, one you weren't even sure you'd make yourself passed off what the doctor had said. You could be pushed into early retirement. But if that wasn't the case. Maybe you would have to look into a different career path.

Especially if you wanted a future with Jenna

*

For the past three weeks you had been resting and healing. Jenna helping you in any and every way. She had been such a great help. You weren't sure where you'd be without her. But you also knew that Jenna had to go back to work.

"Baby the doctor said I'm doing much better." Your latest doctor visit had gone better than expected. Yes you still felt got out breath a bit quicker than usual, felt weak after just thirty minute walk. But you were doing way better than you were before.

Your days as a cop had come to an end. Your Greg, your captain, had relived you from duty permanently. It was a sad thing as much as you tired to deny it. But you were happy. Glad to be given another chance at life with the woman you love.

"I can stay I w-Baby." Cutting her off as you cupped her cheeks. Lightly kissing her on her lips. "Go do your job. I know your manager is going crazy and you can cancel interviews and photoshoots for so long till he puts his foot down. I promise I'm fine. I won't do anything other than lay in bed and maybe play some video games."

Jenna was hesitant, it would be the first time she leaves you alone. She pushed off her responsibilities as an actress to be with you. And she didn't regret it. But she knew you had a point. "Promise you'll be careful and you'll call me if you need anything."

You truly had improved since getting out of the hospital. You no longer needed cane to walk. That had been such a great achievement.

“I promise. Now go be that talented actress that I love.” Leaning down to kiss her lips, a kiss she was happy to return.

And Jenna was happy. She was grateful that you were still with her. That you were alive.

:)

[sundays-wing-piercing]

Hello there! I've been reading through your works and i love how you write Sunday!!

If your requests are open, I wanted to ask something that takes place at the end of the 2.2 quest so if you haven't done it yet, no worries, you can just ignore this ask!

But if you have played through it… I started thinking about nameless! reader on that stage of the theatre, you know the one where MC and Sunday (who's in that gigantic robot) have that exchange "why does life slumber?" "Because… someday… we'll all wake up from our dreams!" "😮") and then the robot with Sunday inside starts falling off the suspended stage etc.

So, I started thinking about nameless! reader starting to weep, while the everyone else (I think it was the full express crew?) is still on that stage, because of everything that happened. Like sure everyone was exhausted and all that unfolded so far probably took a toll on them, so breaking down after everything is done is normal but for reader there's also something else as they see Sunday fall down (I guess figuratively, too) and regain lucidity after the madness he went through (partially related, but i read someone saying that Sunday ended up being controlled by Ena the Order just like how it happened eras ago before her fall and people exulted that she finally fell and the controlling order was no more).

Omg I'm sorry for the long ask 😅 if you even just read through it I'll be happy. Have a wonderful dayyy

Thank you for the ask!! Also, nuh uh don't apologize for yapping im a long text lover this made my day (stay yapping pooks) also out of topic but I love the way you described the last cutscene

Alright im sorry if I interpret this wrong but I think it's obvious the cause would be a feeling of empathy. So first maybe you're someone who's view is similar to that of Robin in which no matter how low a point gets as long as you're alive you'll still be able to get back up and be better. I hope I phrased it right but basically it's hopeful. Even after seeing this guy through his peak madness, his lowest point, something in you hopes for him to get a good ending. For the siblings to finally fly together and thus seeing him just fall like that, basically him giving up and accepting that he'll never be any better than this, you can't help but feel sad for this guy.

Not to mention the fact that after the whole grand theatre incident, Sunday was not only wanted but also missing (if I remember correctly, sry if im wrong) and you can't help but feel even worse as you see Robin desperate to get any info on his wellbeing. How even after all that, the siblings are yet again grieving. Their dream still far from their reach. The thought alone clouds your brain with nothing but sorrow as you cried for them.

Option two is something I thought about more is imagine you absolutely resonating with him. As he goes on with ideology and beliefs ("Everyday should be Sunday" -Sunday Oak) no matter how dehumanizing or flat out baffling they may be a small part of you agrees with him because you yourself have been in that situation, you once believed in the things he's saying, you were once in his position. But unlike Sunday, you've grown to take on a better mindset. Maybe your journeys as a nameless has helped you become a better person. Not immediately but that's alright, in the end you've made way bigger of a progress from what you started out as.

It's mostly the same as the first but this time it hits harder because it's not some baseless optimism. You yourself are a living proof of it. You can't help but feel guilty. But why? Just the sole fact that you both experienced a similar misery but ended with two endings that are opposite to one another makes you feel sorta crappy for simply being happy.

Both end with you praying to whichever Aeon hears your pleas as you wish mercy upon a fallen angel.

[yanderes-galore]

can u write some hcs for Sir Pentious with flirty darling? We all agree he's a pathetic yandere. Flirty darling will make it even worse.. For themselves if they don't stop flirting with other demons <3

Oml, you're so right. He's be a mess with a flirty darling.

Yandere! Sir Pentious with Flirty! Darling

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Clingy behavior, Jealousy, Stalking, Mature themes, Delusional behavior, Submissive yandere, Darling is a bit mean, Dubious relationship.

I feel like Sir Pentious with a flirty darling would break him, yet he also wouldn't understand.

It's said he doesn't understand sexual innuendos and often lacks boundaries.

Ironically he seems very innocent compared to most demons.

He knows he adores his darling and definitely wants to be noticed by them.

In fact, he'd do whatever he can to gain their attention.

So the moment he notices them flirting with him, he's speechless.

He likes it when you flatter him and compliment him.

Although anything that alludes to sex he doesn't entirely understand unless you... point it out for him.

You could easily make him a blushing mess with flirtatious comments.

Sir Pentious is a submissive and pathetic yandere, his darling could easily make him melt.

When he understands them, anyways.

Sir Pentious may also fall under the delusional yandere category, as he originally thinks his darling only flirts with him.

Which must mean they love him.

However, if you are anything like Angel Dust, then you're flirty with everyone for the sake of teasing.

Which admittedly makes his heart sting a bit.

Although with how delusional he is, he may just think you're trying to make him jealous so he acts affectionate back.

I do think it's hard to get an idea into his head that changes his beliefs.

He's just going to think you love him and go with it.

There's no doubt he does get jealous when you flirt with others.

How does he know?

He never leaves your side.

Sir Pentious usually either has his Egg Boiz spy on you or he does it.

He'd feel so betrayed if you flirted with other demons.

Just as teasing as a Succubus/Incubus.

I can see his reaction being one of multiple ways.

He could feel so betrayed he just starts crying.

He could delude himself into thinking this is just one of your quirks.

Or he could be jealous to the point he feels like he needs to take claim to you and just... crashes your conversation.

That or a combination of all three, all at once, and probably in that order.

You'd be so confused when he throws himself into the conversation, doing his best to fit in as he sticks himself as close to you as possible.

It certainly drives the other demon off, which was his plan all along.

I feel his whole attempt at isolating you and keeping your flirting on him is going to backfire.

Because afterwards you may just be tempted to mess with him even more.

Which leads to more flirting, more of his panicking, and more of your little game.

Due to his actions it isn't hard to tell he loves you.

He's deep in it, too.

So, for every tease you make sure you compensate.

You'll smother him in affection some days, flirting and making gestures at him...

Only to flirt with another demon with a knowing grin.

You could be so cruel to him and he'd still love you all the same.

Sir Pentious would do anything for your affection, including playing your sadistic little games.

He's so submissive and pathetic I doubt he'd outright try to kill someone and succeed.

He'd be very comical with trying to get others away from you, doing things like rushed threats and attempts to show you he's the better suitor.

You actually feel a little bad at times due to how hard he tries.

He may have instances where he's actually quite cunning and manipulative with you and those around you, but those are uncommon.

He's mostly... just a mess.

He loves you so much, the moment he has a taste of you due to your flirting...

He refuses to give it up, maybe even to the point of removing the competition if it means he gets to keep your attention and sweet words for himself.

[avonne-writes]

In you HS au, does gale have any insecurities? Maybe related to how he looks? What about bucky? since he always seems so confident, does he have anything he's insecure about?

Do they ever! Hahaha 😄 Yes, they have some insecurities. A lot of the fics posted in the collection so far are outsider POV, most of them their peers' POV, that's why the boys seem more confident than they are.

In Broken Things, we get a short mention of Gale being insecure:

When Bucky’s small car comes to a halt in front of him at the gas station, Gale realizes he looks like a stray cat on the side of the road. Probably the least attractive he has ever been. Are his cheeks blotchy and gross? Did the slap bruise? He tries to look more presentable by tucking his dishevelled hair behind his ears and brushing down the knees of his jeans, but it does little to improve his appearance.

But I've yet to explore their insecurities in detail. Here are some of my headcanons:

Gale

Believe it or not, Gale doesn’t think he's handsome. He thinks, at best, he looks like a Ken doll and he wishes to look tougher. He loves his long hair because he feels like it gives him an edge. He always wants to look flawless and is actually a notorious mirror hogger.

He's insecure about body odor, so he always tries to be as clean as possible and uses distinctive deodorant (that Bucky loves, as mentioned in the latest chapter).

He's scared of making too much noise when he and Bucky are making out or more. He doesn’t want to embarrass himself by being too needy, too touch-starved. He thinks he’s not normal about touch and almost never initiates because he feels like it’s gonna expose how utterly pathetic he is about it. (It gets better for him later, I promise.)

He's insecure about his entire personality and existence in the company of adults. He’s confident with his peers, but adults leave him all sorts of anxious. He hates when teachers pull him aside or try to have a conversation with him. He wants all adults to like him and second-guesses everything he does in their presence.

Having too many bad memories from home. Nothing gets him more uncomfortable than a group conversation where someone asks him about his family and he can’t recall any completely normal and nice anecdotes to share.

Bucky

Like a typical teenage boy, he spends an unnecessary amount of time trying to figure out if his dick is big enough. It’s dumb because he doesn’t have expectations for Gale, yet he still feels anxious about what Gale might think about that part of his body. He’s glad that he knows how to delete his search history...

Somewhat related, as we saw in the latest chapter, he needs reassurance about his sexual performance in a way Gale doesn’t. This gradually decreases as he gets more experience.

He thinks he’s too skinny, and hates that despite being thin, he doesn’t have defined abs (Gale does). When he’s in a bad mood, he feels like an ugly twig. But he likes his own jawline.

He has acne breakouts sometimes, and he wants to hide in a dark corner whenever that happens. The first time he had it after he and Gale started dating, he actually wondered if Gale would still kiss him at all.

He often feels like he’s too much. Too talkative, too loud, too rowdy. When someone reminds him of this insecurity, he can plummet into a sudden, bone-deep depressive mood.

[ironbabey]

July

Peter Parker x Reader

angst, maybe fluff?

Word Count: 1k

Inspired by the song July by Noah Cyrus

~~~~~~~~

I've been holding my breath, I've been counting to ten, over something you said

“So uh, what do ya say? Wanna give it a shot?” Please say yes please say yes please say yes-

“I’m sorry, I really am, but I’m gonna have to say no.”

No. He said no.

It took you months to work up the courage to finally tell him how you felt, ironically you told yourself the worst he could say was no. Fuck, it hurt.

You were crushed. “Oh uh, that's okay. We can just stay friends.” It’s not okay, you don’t want to be friends. Well, you do. You also wanted-no, hoped- for something more.

He smiled, god you loved that smile. It never failed to make your heart skip a beat, even breaking it at the same time.  “Glad this won’t change our friendship. I care about you a lot.” He says, you can hear the pity in his voice.

He cared, just not in the way you wanted.

I've been holding back tears, while you're throwing back beers, I'm alone in bed

You were always told rejection hurt but you didn’t think it’d be this painful. Peter went out while you were sulking in your bed. There’s more fish in the sea, right? You shouldn’t have fallen for him, everyone told you not to, and yet here you are.

How could you be so stupid?

Of course he didn’t like you.

You were nothing compared to her.

You didn't have the perfect teeth, the perfect hair, the perfect skin, the perfect...anything. You were just you.

You stupidly thought that it would be enough for him, she didn't even remember him, but you made new memories with him.

You know I, I'm afraid of change. Guess that's why we stay the same

You two were fighting now. It's your fault anyways. You lashed out on him just because he hadn’t reached out to you since that day. He's ignored your texts, calls, hell you even tried an email for the fun of it. He stilled ignored you.

The day you confessed really fucked things up.

You decided to be the bigger person and show up at his door. He would've known you were going over if he read your messages.

“I thought we agreed that wouldn’t change us. You said you wanted to be friends so why are you being such a dick?”

 “I’m being a dick? Oh, that’s real funny coming from you. I have a life full of other people, not just you. I don’t see why I have to be the one to do everything.”

You bit your lip and looked at the ground, embarrassed that you were acting childish, “No, you’re right. I’m sorry.”

So, tell me to leave, I'll pack my bags, get on the road

Peter let out a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his hair, the soft hair you used to play with during the times you'd study together. “I think you should go. I can’t handle this—you—right now.”

You refused to cry in front of him. “Yeah, okay.” You grabbed your bag and slammed the door shut on your way out. You fucked everything up, didn’t you?

Find someone that loves you better than I do, darling, I know

A week went by, and he finally texted you, asking you to go over and talk it out. In the end you were still his best friend, and he didn't want to lose you.

You picked up a photo that was in a beautiful golden frame on the coffee table, you knew who the woman was, Peter talked about her all the time, and it killed you. You thought he was over her.

 “What are you doing with that?” He grabbed the framed photo from your hands as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

You blinked back the tears that were threatening to come out, “It was just sitting here, she’s pretty. Really pretty.”

Peter smiled, “Yeah, she was. The greatest too.”

‘Cause you remind me everyday, I’m not enough but I still stay

You two sat in uncomfortable silence. He wanted to make up, wanted things to be normal again, but you had other plans. You wanted answers. “What does she have that I don’t? What’s so different?”

He groaned. “Please, don’t start this right now.”

You stood up from the couch, “No! I want to know why you’re after someone who moved on. Someone who doesn't even rem-“

“She was the only one there for me through all of it! She helped me from beginning to end! I ruined everything just to make sure she got into the school she worked so hard for!" His voice went soft, he couldn't hold back the tears that went streaming down his face. His brown eyes were hardly visible through them, "She was all I had. She was the only girl that ever looked my way and actually liked me.”

Then what am I?

I've done a lot of things wrong, Loving you being one. But I can't move on

“What?”

“Then what am I?”, you repeated deep down you knew you were being a little selfish, but he had no right to say you didn't care, “I’ve been there for you. I’ve laughed with you, cried with you, I even fought with you and you’re still tossing me aside?”

“Listen-“

“No! You listen to me! I’ve done nothing but love and care about you but clearly that’s not enough! Nothing is ever enough for you! I-I’m not enough.”

Peter stood to hug her. To tell you that you was more than enough. To tell you he was just afraid of being more than what you were now.

If you want me to leave, then tell me to leave, and baby, I'll go

You moved away from his attempted hug. How dare he cry when it was him who was hurting you? “N-No, you don’t get-get to cry.” you choked out through your own tears.

“I’m sorry please just understand.” He begged.

“Tell me to leave. Tell me you don't want to see me again and I’ll stop. I’ll leave you alone just like you want.” That’s not what he wanted, not at all. He wouldn't know what to do with himself if you left him too.

“That’s not-I want you to stay.”

You remind me every day, I'm not enough, but I still stay

“Okay. I’ll stay.”

[coloursflyaway]

Won’t Fear Love (5/6)

Pairing: Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland

Rating: T

Word Count: 1.600

Read on AO3

„We should go a date“, Charles says on a perfectly bland Tuesday, looking up at Edwin from whatever he is doing at the moment.

If Edwin wasn’t dead already, he would suspect that Charles is trying to kill him.

or:

Five times Charles takes Edwin on a date to figure out if he could fall in love with him, and one time when he has an answer.

tagging all the lovely people who wanted to give this fic a read: @itsablueberrycow @piristephes @assignedpeanutallergyatbirth @mylu @oneweirdbean @lifeinvirtualreality

Charles won’t tell him where they are going. Again.

It’s the second Wednesday of the month, just after five pm and Charles just takes him to the mirror in the office, hand lightly grasping Edwin’s wrist, and expects him to walk through with him. Now, for someone else, this could be exciting, but Edwin has never really appreciated surprises, not even by the person he loves most in the world.

He’s about to ask Charles again, but he’s beaten to it, because Charles smiles and slips his hand down until he can intertwine their fingers, then asks, “Do you trust me?” What an utterly preposterous question.

Does he trust Charles? More than anything else in the world, more than himself.

Edwin sighs, resists the urge to roll his eyes and Charles’ smile makes up for it tenfold, no matter if it is a little smug around the edges. Maybe he has a right to be.

The world fades and appears again, and Edwin expected something different. He’s not quite sure what, but behind the mirror is the roof of their own building, the sun bright and the sky blue for a change.

“I know this is probably not as extravagant as you imagined it”, Charles starts to explain, almost sounding bashful, as if Edwin would care about where they are spending their evening and not simply about who he is spending it with. “I had something else planned, but then I saw the weather and I thought it would be such a shame to waste it. I hope you’re not too disappointed.”

“Disappointed by you? Never”, Edwin answers and it should feel like saying too much, but it doesn’t. Instead of an answer, he gets a smile that puts the sun to shame, and a tug to his wrist as Charles pulls him forward.

“We have discussed the problem with how much of dating revolves around food before, I know, but I wanted to prepare at least something so it’s not just us sitting on the roof and watching the sunset”, he explains, looking a little sheepish as he takes Edwin to where a chequered picnic blanket is spread across the rough concrete. “It’s probably a bit silly, but I just wanted to do something special.”

He’s leaving out part of the sentence, Edwin can hear it clearly, but it takes a moment until he fills in the blanks: for you. Charles wanted to do something special for him, and Edwin feels his non-existent heart seize up in his chest; doesn’t know how Charles hasn’t yet realised that anything he does for him is special to Edwin.

“So, I got all this”, Charles says and sits down, pulling Edwin with him. Next to him is a picnic basket that looks like it’s been taken directly out of a movie, made from wicker and with a small handle to carry it across open fields, before settling down next to a creek, or maybe in the shade of an old oak tree. And then, Charles whips it open.

Inside, packed tightly to fit everything, is an assortment of children’s toys.

Colourful plastic moulded into facsimiles of cake slices and finger sandwiches. Dollops of whipped cream made from styrofoam, different kinds of fruit that look like they have been felted, rubber croissants that still look fluffy, delightful in an unreal way. Tucked in around the toys are cups and plates made from fine china, metal cutlery, a tea pot that Edwin knows he has seen in Crystal’s kitchen before.

It’s silly, Charles is right. It’s the most lovely thing Edwin has ever seen in his life.

“You, Charles Rowland”, he starts and has to blink back a tear or two, “are the sweetest person I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.”

“So you like it?”, Charles asks, like he still isn’t certain of the answer, but he smiling at Edwin, he’s still holding his hand, thumb brushing over Edwin’s knuckles. “I love it”, he answers; adds, if only in thoughts, I love you.

“Charles, would you pass me a slice of cake?”, Edwin asks after they have watched the sunlight for a little while, comfortable silence stretching between them. “It looks scrumptious.” “You want me to-”, Charles starts and then stops himself, a smile blooming on his face that makes Edwin think of falling, makes him think of flying. “Yes, of course. Would you like some tea with that?”

“That would be delightful”, Edwin replies and takes the delicate cup Charles hands him. “Also, maybe some of that clotted cream?”

And they have a picnic right there on the rooftop, sharing smiles and little touches and plastic pastries alike.

There are children’s toys strewn around them, mostly forgotten, and they are still sitting on the picnic blanket, watching as the sun sets over London. It’s beautiful up here, enough distance between them and the city to drown out the noise and make it feel like it’s just them, and while Edwin likes their new life with all the new people it includes, he misses this sometimes. Misses a world in which he never looked up and not saw Charles next to him, a world in which they had been so intertwined that Edwin never considered it could be otherwise.

What he doesn’t miss, though, is not knowing what the warmth in his chest is when he looks over at Charles. Maybe it was easier back then, when he thought the urge to touch Charles was nothing more than friendship, but it’s better now. Because Charles deserves to be loved, and Edwin, above all else, wants to be the one to love him.

If they end this experiment and Charles decides that he only wants Edwin as a friend, then so be it. Edwin will love him to the fullest extent, the best of his ability, as long as he exists. And that, in the end, would be enough.

“What are you thinking about?”, Charles asks softly, and Edwin tears his gaze away from where the sun is just so touching the outlines of the skyscrapers in the distance. He’s beautiful, something Edwin has known since the first moment he had set eyes on Charles, freezing and scared and dying and yet so ready to accept Edwin in his life. Maybe that had been the moment all of this had started, not when Charles had chosen to stay with him, because Edwin’s love had never been about reciprocation, but when he had first allowed Edwin to sit down next to him and granted him a smile.

“Nothing in particular”, he replies, and knows that Charles won’t believe him, but that’s alright. It’s not like it is something he is trying to hide, just something they don’t have to discuss right now, when the sun is setting and he’s still buzzing from their fingers brushing when they pretended to split a croissant between them.

And Charles doesn’t bring it up, just nods and scoots a little closer until their shoulders are pressed together. He’s not looking at Edwin, but out across the city, so Edwin does the same, lets his head rest against Charles’ shoulder and wishes he could breathe in deeply, make out Charles’ scent between everything else this moment has to offer.

“You know”, Charles says, and shifts so he can wrap his arm around Edwin’s shoulders, holding him close. “I think about you a lot. Always have, really. And all this dating hasn’t made it less, but I’m pretty sure you already know that.”

He shifts again, and for a horrible moment, Edwin thinks he will pull away, but then there are lips pressing against the crown of his head, and instead, time stands still, lets him take it in. It feels like peace, like excitement, like something Edwin could live without but never wants to again.

“And you know I love you, don’t you?”, Charles says and time moves again, makes Edwin’s heart ache and jubilate at the same time. He does. “I love you the most.”

Edwin nods without moving his head, wishes he could feel the coarse fabric of Charles’ jacket against his cheek, the heat of his blood beneath it. For a moment he wants to repeat the words, because they are true, but Charles already knows. Might have always known.

A finger on the side of his chin, gently lifting it, and Charles is saying, “Hey, look at me for a sec?”

And Edwin sits up, Charles’ arm sliding off his shoulders as he turns to face him. He misses it almost immediately, but there is something in Charles’ eyes that makes it so easy to forget the fact. They are warm and dark and they are watching Edwin like he is something precious, something worth keeping.

There are no words, Charles just looks at him, and it’s almost like a physical touch; it makes Edwin shiver, even though he cannot feel it. Because Charles is smiling like he has never smiled before, lets the finger that is still resting against Edwin’s jaw slide downwards until he can gently grasp his chin, as if he was afraid that Edwin could ever look away again.

A moment, a breath, and then Charles leans in and brushes the softest, the sweetest kiss against his lips.

It’s not his first, but it feels like it anyway, feels like a beginning and feels like an end. Let me have this, he thinks, not for the first time. Let me love him.

And then, he doesn’t think anymore at all, and kisses Charles back.

[brainddeadd]

hiiiii !!!

i just saw your smut prompt list and i would love to see a combo of #5 and #44 with Seungmin of skz !!!

i had a teasing like, frenemies vibe in mind when i read them, like seungmin and the reader tease each other and egg each other on bc they are hardcore crushing on one another

thank u <3333

"Oh, I can do this all night long." & "Maybe you could use that mouth for more than just talking nonsense."

Seungmin

smut

fingering, meanie!seungmin, sub-dom dynamics, "pup" and "brat" as nicknames

Seungmin has you on your knees in front of him, body yearning for his touch, but he refuses to give it to you.

He wants you to beg. Yeah right.

You're naked and he's still fully clothed, his hard cock straining against his jeans, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't want it in your mouth.

He knows you're desperate for his cock, he made sure of it on your weekly movie night.

He changed it up this week, inviting you to the cinemas instead of to the dorms, armed with the stolen knowledge that you want him too (he read your texts to Lino about how much you wanted him to rail you).

So he hatched a plan, inviting you to the movies, omitting which movies he'd chosen for his week, knowing it was a romance, full of raunchy sex scenes. He chose to sit at the very back, packed into the very back to avoid other people, him making you sit closer to the wall, claiming he knew you didn't like the chance of someone sitting next to you. He behaved himself until the first sex scene, when he took the opportunity to slide his hand over your thigh, watching for your reactions out the corner of his eye.

When you started at him confusedly, but shuffled your hips forward and spread you legs slightly despite the confusion, he wasted no time in sliding his hand further up your thigh, fingers brushing over your clothed folds. You have to bury your face in his shoulder to muffle the moan that wants to fly from your mouth.

He presses against your clit until you're bucking your hips into his hand, then slides one long, thick finger in slowly. And then he.. stops. Just.. leaves his thumb pressing on your clit and his finger in your pussy. You want to scream, rock your hips to make him continue, but you can't give away what you're doing in the back of a cinema, so you bite down onto his shoulder, drawing a hiss from his mouth, and wait for him to end the torture.

He doesn't.

He keeps his hand like that, occasionally curling his finger inside your pussy, but mostly just stays still, a smirk on his face at the way you flutter around him.

You complain the whole way home. Calling him names and swatting him on the shoulder.

He rushes you into your apartment, knowing there'd be more privacy there, and tells you to strip, making you kneel for him.

"Maybe you could use that mouth for more than just talking nonsense." He starts. "Maybe I'll let you. But you have to ask nicely."

He can see the way your folds are glistening in the low light, body waiting for him.

"Are you going to be my good pup, and beg for my cock?" He leans down to your face. "Ore are you going to continue to be a little brat?"

You whimper at that, and can feel yourself getting wetter, which makes him smirk.

"Pup, I can do this all night long." He pauses. "Better yet, I can make you watch. Not let you touch. Not touch you."

You let out a cry and he puts his forehead to yours.

"What's it going to be brat?" He grips your chin. "Are you going to be a good pup for me, and beg for my cock? Or am I going to have to get myself off to the thought of you again?"

[xo-cod]

could you tell us more about ghost and price in the au? 👀👀 i love bridgerton so much 🥲💕

of course nonnie, i hope you enjoy. idk if i'll ever write it but it's so fun to think about lmao. i included gaz/soap/könig just in case :) 🤍

continued from: here

price: the leader, the gentleman of the bunch if you will. but just as witty and cunning as the rest of his comrades, though that side isn't often shown. he lacks affection and warmth after years of spent alone, he's especially learnt not to trust and rely on people. bears the burden of his team, holds many responsibilities from his higher position that keeps him occupied. upholds his honour and role in society as the viscount but he is unmarried and purely looking for someone that ticks off the boxes for being a viscountess, at best looking for an understanding of sorts since love is a fickle thing and he doesn't believe feelings should be mixed with business. that's not to say there isn't a heart that beats under all that armour. perhaps you may be his undoing

ghost: maybe the brute would interest you, his devious ways certainly able to spark a light in someone. he's blunt and brash, harsh and cold. doesn't really converse to anyone that isn't his companions, fiercely protective and loyal to them, holds them in a high regard. he is knighted like all of them, fulfils his duties during the day and fights during the night. the years of abuse have taken its toll on him, doesn't believe he could love or that it could be reciprocated. he bears a dark past, harbouring secrets he's vowed to keep to the grave but perhaps you may be the one to tempt his heart, to show him the true love he's always yearned to have. to ease some lightness in the darkness he carries

gaz: the mastermind, he is the sarcastic witty type when conversing. being of a higher class has brought about many attention, attention which isn't something he rather enjoys. gaz is a man of few words, usually appreciating intellect of an individual someone who challenges him and keeps him thinking. his time is mostly occupied with his responsibilities but there's a soft ache that runs through him in the stillness of the night all alone and away from the buzz of society. something in him dares to linger on a dream, a hope that perhaps he isn't an unlovable as he thinks himself to be. perhaps you may be the one to secure the viscount

soap: lastly the playboy! he's got that devilish smirk that results from having a decent conversation to all hot and flustered in bed. but to him sex doesn't equal love. he's rather emotionally closed off, love has usually been full of pain so he gave up. sex is good enough, gets rid of the physical need of a soft body and he doesn't see them again afterwards. he does allow himself the pleasure but of late as he grows older he finds himself wanting more, something he can't seem to find in the other ladies in the town. maybe you'd be the rare diamond he's after, able to quench his desire for a lover

plus könig: the earl, he's calculating and calm. rarely ever seen conversing with others outside his circle. societal events aren't much his thing and he won't go if his presence isn't required. könig again doesn't care much for love, looking for a countess and nothing more. he too doesn't much believe in love, won't allow his heart to even entertain the thought so he closes himself off away from others. he just needs someone that's compatible on paper, to secure his right in his position. but maybe you could teach him that love isn't black and white, that perhaps he too can indulge himself for once in his life (tolerates the 141, personal beef with ghost)

it's a fun idea to think off, sorry if it's repetitive. i haven't yet fully thought this out so there are mistakes but i hope you liked it anyway :)

[2minutesnotice]

Give us headcannons please!! :)

HERE WE GOOOOO!

Polycule Headcanons

✨Stolitz/Fizzmodeus 🦎🦉🐸🐓✨

✨It was actually Blitzø who initiated it. As he started to connect with Fizz again he was sure he just had this childhood/teen crush thing and would get over it. Surprise, it wouldn't. It got worse. And since he was in a steady relationship with Stolas at this point and Fizz and Ozzie were definitely marriage material, it took some time to collect the courage to mention it.

✨Fizz was unsure if Ozzie would be okay with it, they had shared a bed with others but being in a relationship was a totally different thing. He also was not sure how to address the fact that maybe he has feelings for Blitzø? Like, he was pretty sure he had buried that very very deep.

✨ When they all sat together to discuss and reflect their relationships, they started with just putting down the facts. Since Blitzø started the whole thing, he made sure that he won't do anything unless Ozzie was in it AND Stolas. If anyone would be uncomfortable he had to get over his feelings and would try to make it as easy as possible for everyone .

✨ Stolas and Ozzie are not in love (yet). They're still in a dating phase, they pleasure each other, respect each other and they're fine with everything their imps bring on the table.

✨ Since dating 4 people is very very time consuming, Fizz made a schedule/calendar. It's not to be taken TOO seriously but they can put in their dating plans, when they're a No Touchy Day or they have to cancel plans because of work or just not being in the mood.

✨ They don't life together (yet). Blitzø moved into the palace but still has his apartment he sometimes goes back to. Loona moved out (on good terms) a while ago. Blitzø still sleeps on the couch when he's in his apartment, since he can't get over himself to move into Loonas old room.

Stolas is still at the palace but plans to move into a smaller mansion (with a garden and greenhouse). His divorce went through, Via is fighting to live with him since she had a very serious conversation with her therapist how to spot a toxic parent 🙃

Fizz and Ozzie still are in the Lust Ring and don't plan to move anytime soon.

✨ In this version of mine, Fizz is a Trans!Man. He prefers to call himself a man and identifies as such, but has his fluid days sometimes.

✨ Fizz has No Touchy Days, where he's very easily overstimulated by body contact. He is okay with reaching out himself but does not like to be touched.

✨ They use the ample system for consent and boundaries. Before every session they will ask for the color of their partner. It seems a bit excessive but if you have 4 people in an intimate relationship, communication is the key.

✨ Everyone is on the same terms for

GREEN: I'm good, you can touch me in any way, but I can change my mind.

YELLOW: I'm not in the mood, I don't want to start something yet, I'm okay with just being close but please don't start something sexual until I initiate it.

We need to slow down, I'm hurting but it's not that bad yet, I have something to say (yes even in the middle of it).

RED: It's a clear stop. No touching, keep your distance. Something doesn't feels right.

They also have a clear finger sign system if someone is gagged.

✨ Full Moon Dates are Blitzø and Stolas dates. They don't have sex then, they just date and chill, to put something domestic and nice into that date.

✨ So far, their Polycule is only known by close family members and friends. The media does not know. Stolas wants grass to grow over the divorce (Stella made a media spectacle out of it) and Fizz and Ozzie are still in pending what the consequences of their relationship is.

✨ Blitzø and Ozzie have a weirdly close relationship and maybe a few shared kinks lol

💖 I've tried to put it all together but I guess there's more lol I'm just taking a bath and tried to remember the early ideas 💖

Feel free to ask more 💖

[roosterbox]

Hey

Hey hey

Guess what? It’s someone’s birthday today!

That’s right, my dear Inception fandom peeps, if my calendar is to be believed - and I hope it is! - then today is the birthday of our own beloved @lolahardy !!

Happy birthday, Lola ❤️

Also, I wrote you a Thing. Just a lil ~500 word piece, featuring our favorite pair of silly boys, lol. I hope you enjoy, and I hope you have the loveliest of lovely birthdays today.

Not putting it under a cut because, again, it’s only a little over 500 words, so not too long.

Tags: baked goods, schmoop, tooth-rotting fluff, slight slight slight references to sex (I’d probably rate it a T juuuuust in case, but this is like the lightest T rating you’ll ever see, lol), Eames has a sweet tooth and Arthur decides to enable him.

———

“Happy birthday,” Arthur said.

The cake looked immaculate, situated as it was, perfectly centered on their kitchen table. Every dip and wave of frosting was perfect. Each candle equidistant from each other. It was all so very Arthur, and Eames loved it almost as much as he loved him.

“Oh, darling,” he said, drawing Arthur close for a kiss. “Yet again, you’ve outdone yourself.”

Arthur’s cheeks were slightly pink. “You say that every year.”

“Because every year, it’s still true.” He smiled. “You grab the plates while I cut?”

Turns out, it tasted like perfection too. The smoother than smooth lemon buttercream frosting adding just the right amount of tangy bite to the sweeter cake. Eames couldn’t help his satisfied groans at the peach and strawberry flavours bursting over his tongue. The taste, and the sight of Arthur’s face getting even pinker at the noises he was making, was absolutely everything to him.

Mouth half-full, Eames started to say “At the risk of repeating myself-“

“Don’t.” Arthur took a small bite of his own slice. “It’s good, yeah?”

“It’s perfect.” Eames swallowed his last bite, and moved to serve himself another piece. “All three of my favourite flavours, conveniently in one gorgeous package? I almost didn’t want to eat it.”

“Almost.” They shared a smirk. A long stretch of comfortable silence followed. Well, silent other than the frankly obscene noises Eames made as he enjoyed his cake. Halfway through his third (and as it would turn out, last… for now) slice of his birthday meal, Eames observed, with sly pleasure, Arthur loosening his shirt at the collar. Seemed like his vocalizations were having the desired effect. His darling was looking almost as pink as the crumb on the cake he’d made.

“You know,” Eames said after getting another mouthful down, “there’s one somewhat unfortunate thing about this.”

Arthur’s brow furrowed. “What’s that?” He seemed genuinely confused, and a little concerned that he might have messed up or forgotten something.

“Tragically, my actual favorite flavour in the world isn’t one that usually finds its way into baked goods.” He gave his partner a sidelong look. “A bit more of a… personal touch, that one.”

It took Arthur a minute. But then, he groaned.

“Eames, please. I’m trying to eat.”

“Still made you smile though.” Eames nudged his leg under the table.

“Pretty sure I’ve done nothing but smile this whole entire day.”

“Even while baking?”

“Especially while baking.” Arthur looked down at Eames hand sitting on the tablecloth, and covered it with his own. “You know how much I enjoy doing things like this. For you.”

Now it was Eames’ turn to blush. “No fair getting so sappy, love. Not after my best attempts at salaciousness.”

That got him a dry chuckle. “If that’s your best attempt, then there goes the rest of my plans for this evening.”

Eames gasped. “Why, Arthur,” he practically purred. “How very forward of you.”

A squeeze of his hand. “Finish your cake, Mr. Eames, and maybe you’ll get to have some of your ‘favorite’ flavor before the night is through.”

He barely tasted the last few bites. And sometime later, as he caught his breath on the comedown, all he could think was that it was worth it.

[moeblob]

Deacon loves two things: Ymber and digging himself a grave.

Fulj hates one thing: Deacon.

[icewindandboringhorror]

There's always a slight yearning in the back of my mind wishing I had been born in the right place, time, family situation, income level, etc. to have just lived in one single house for my entire life. Imagine being born in a place that still suits you, even through all of your personal evolutions and etc. The idea of deep familiarity with an area because you've lived and explored it for 40+ years, being encased in a web of memories and connections. Being able to clean out your old childhood bedroom and find personal artifacts, to dig in the yard and remember. I know those lives can still be plenty imperfect, but there's just something so seemingly solid and stable and Grounding about it that I sometimes wish I could have.. (At least from my outside perspective as someone who's moved around a bit geographically and even within the same area, never lives in the same house/ apartment /etc. for more than a few years usually.) Like... having a place that is printed upon, fully your own, rather than chronically a visitor, every thought of a space always tempered with the notion that one day soon you'll have to pack it all up again, etc. There's something peaceful about the permanence.

[kennyomegasweave]

Phupha 2 telling Kram 1 he'd pick the first person he had even if he fell for a second person just made me gasp. Cause I mean. Well. Phupha 1 had a fiancée, then met Kram 1, then said absolutely nothing about her to Kram 1, but once Kram 1 did find out about her & met her tried to pull out some "baby I was gonna tell you, I promise it's not what you think!" And then he just died? And now Kram 1 is falling for Tai 2 while also being like "no you love Phupha 1" like that entire man isn't dead???

Please someone just hug Tai 2. Like my god. His whole ass man died and then his man's other world double showed up and he tried to keep his distance but caught feelings, but Kram 1 still thought he could just switch Phupha 2 in for his dead Phupha 1 just for Kram 1 to realize he doesn't actually want Phupha 2??? And he does what Tai 2??? Please someone just hug Tai 2. I'm begging.