#but I still really like the idea and would like to see it realised. and who’ll do that if not me? kat has her own stories to worry about

[cheeseceli]

When you struggle to eat

Pairing: Ot8!skz × Gn!reader (individually)

Genre: hurt/comfort, fluff, reactions

Request: reader thinking she eats "too much" and decides to eat way less for her body image, and how the skz boys would react to that.

Warnings: eating struggles will be discussed; reader has body image issues; mentions of food multiple times; use of petnames in Chan and Changbin's

Disclaimer: this was made with the purpose to comfort anyone who's going through a similar situation. If I made a mistake and made someone uncomfortable/aggravated the situation, please do tell me and I'll correct or delete this post immediately, whatever is preferred. Topics related to eating disorders will be discussed here, please don't read if that's something that triggers you.

Bang Chan - is ready to listen to all your worries

‌We all remember Chan's Room right?

‌He's ready to spend hours if needed just to understand what you're going through ‌and where your insecurities are coming from

‌At the same time, he will never judge you

‌So you know he's your safe place

Constantly checks up on you even if he's far away through texts and calls

And if there's someone who's aggravating the situation or making you insecure, you can bet he's gonna solve the situation himself

"Talk to me baby. What's going on in that mind of yours, hm?"

Lee Know - eats with you

Probably the first to realise something's off, considering food is almost his love language atp

Likes to have as many meals with you as possible

‌He usually makes a mountain of food in his plate, so you don't worry about the amount of food in yours

‌And he also runs errands with you

‌Especially those like buying food

‌You don't even gotta ask, he would be volunteering on the first opportunity

‌Also cooks for you, whatever you want

"Do you want to eat anything? I can cook"

Changbin - Hype man

‌Your personal hype man fr

‌Is ready to compliment you in absolutely everything

‌The best part is that you know that his compliments are always genuine

‌What do you mean you didn't like that trousers?? You looked fantastic in it! That shirt made you look even more gorgeous

‌He has known you for so long and still, he always finds something new to compliment you on

But even if after all the reassurance you want to change the way you look, he will be by your side to help you do it in a safe and healthy way

"You look perfect, baby. I promise. Actually, I still don't believe I managed to pull someone so beautiful like that"

Hyunjin - has all meals with you

‌And with that, I really mean all meals

‌Breakfast, lunch, dinner, you name it

‌Even if you can't really get out of your work place or your university, he's going there then

‌He just doesn't want you to be by yourself

‌He also always has something to say during those meals

‌News about their comeback, gossip at jyp, stories from his childhood...

He never fails to admire you a lot in those moments as well, never letting you forget how much he loves and appreciates you

‌He does that hoping it will distract you from the food, so you can be more at ease

"Have I ever told you about the time Kkami bit my ankle? I think I still have the scar."

Han - makes you feel beautiful

‌He truly doesn't understand how you don't think you're the most beautiful human being to ever set foot on this earth

‌In his eyes, you were born perfect

‌So, naturally, he makes it his mission to make you see yourself in his point of view

‌Compliments and adores you

‌Will make you feel beautiful, pretty, sexy, cute... Whatever you wanna be

‌Above all, he'll make you feel loved

"No matter what size, you'll always be my love. Don't forget that."

Felix - distracts you

‌With that, I mean that he tries to take your attention off food and body image related subjects

‌Before and after eating, he will always bring you along to activities where your mind can be turned off

‌So many fun dates!!

‌Even during the meals he'll have a similar idea to hyunjin and simply won't shut up

‌Most of his compliments don't involve around your body, so you really don't think about it

"I love this hairstyle of yours. It looks wonderful"

Seungmin - protects you

‌In a sense that no one even dares to comment on your looks/habits

Even if he isn't there with you

‌That because he made it very clear that everyone should watch their mouths around you

‌For as long as he's around you, he will do his best and more to protect you from harmful comment

Also tries to experiment a lot of different foods with you all the time, so you never feel like that's a burden or a bad thing

"Hey, have you heard about the new restaurant close to home? The food is peruvian. We could have dinner there tonight."

I.N - physically reassures you

‌He loves you and every single part of you, including your looks

I believe he was a bit lost in the beginning, not exactly sure on how to help you

‌But even if his words aren't exactly his biggest strength, he still wants to reassure you as much as he can

‌So he does that with his touch

‌Holding you on his lap, kissing all of your "imperfections" and tracing patterns in your skin

‌Anything that can ground, reassure and give you comfort at the same time

"Have I ever told you how perfect you are? I should tell you that more."

Masterlist | you'll probably like: when you're overworked (ateez comfort)

Thank you for reading<3 I hope this was able to help someone

» I won't put the taglist on this one as I don't want to tag anyone in something that can possibly trigger them «

Dividers by @/cafekitsune, images 1 2 3

Thank you so much for the beta readers: @duhgurl @beebee18 @applekiwi3202 @elqivxstxr @mrsunshine999 @msauthor

[boyfhee]

﹙𝓲ssue﹚ㅤ:ㅤsurprise back hugsㅤ...ㅤ( 엔하이픈 )

ㅤㅤ﹙1258﹚ ㅤ장르 fluff, est. relㅤㅤwarnings kissingㅤㅤᐢᗜᐢ i have so many hcs ideas but im so confused where to start from ㅠㅠ iNDEX

HEESEUNG

he would flinch like every other time he does when you hug him from behind. it's not too much, just enough to set his heart racing before his lips curve into a sweet smile. “need something, sweetheart?” and you shake your head at his words, holding him a little tighter as you bury your pretty face in his back. “just you” and he loves to see it— as he turns his head slightly to look at you and smiles at how cute you are. he would undo your hands from around him and turn slowly, wrapping them back around him, hugging you back just as warmly and sweetly. “we should do this properly,”

JONGSEONG

jay would be expecting your arms anytime around him with a knowing smile, especially when he's cooking. he knows you love to watch him cook, you love to hug him while he's cooking, and you love being a distraction. “was waiting for you, doll,” you giggle at his words, teasing him in your sweet voice. “oh, you're so obsessed with me,” and it makes him laugh, the way say it when a hint of playfulness. it's mostly quiet after that, but the smiles on yours faces speak volumes of how much you two enjoy this.

JAEYUN

he would genuinely get so scared sometimes, giving you pouts and whines as you laugh at him. “it's not funny, baby” he would say with a hand on his chest, eyes wide open and all, you know it's exaggeration. “i almost had a heart attack,” and you keep laughing, shaking your head, claiming how sorry you are but you can't help but crave for his adorable reactions every time you surprise him with back hugs. he would take a few seconds before wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. “you better compensate me with kisses,” and who are you to say no?

SUNGHOON

would know you're about to pull something like this from a mile ago. it's like a sixth sense. you'd tip-toe and sneak around, being as quiet as possible, and he would still know, stepping aside just when you're about to hug him. “hoon! you're no fun,” you huff, arms crossed, a frown on your lips as you look away, trying to be mad. sunghoon to just laugh at your actions, his heart swelling at how adorable you look with that frown— he wants to kiss you and he does, making you look at him. “all this for a hug? c'mon, princess, we both know you can't be mad at my pretty face for long,” and you hate how he's right. he would sigh, opening his arms to you in invitation as you quickly give in. “so spoiled,” you giggle at his words, face nuzzled in his chest, and sunghoon realises, yet again, he wouldn't mind spoiling you more

SUNOO

he would get really shy, but also groan softly as if trying to show that he doesn't enjoy it when you suddenly chime in with a sweet hello and wrap your arms around his waist. “gosh, this again...” you can hear him smiling as he says that, arms still around him as you tilt slightly to the side, looking up at him. “what? i know you like it,” and who is he kidding? he loves your hugs and kisses, he likes to have you close to him, and you know it, especially now that it's so evident. “you're even blushing,” he laughs softly, feeling his cheeks heat up even more. and then at some point he just pulls you in front, burying you in his arms. “you have that effect on me,”

JUNGWON

would get scared in a way that it activates his flight or fight response. “oh my god, you scared m— oh,” accidently hits your nose with his elbow while turning around, immediately dropping whatever he was doing to tend to you, cupping your face ever so gently with an apologetic look. “gosh, i'm so sorry, baby. it's just that you hugged me so suddenly...” and you would shake your head, saying it's fine in your little, slightly pained voice which would make him feel even more guilty. “i'm sorry, love,” he would pull you in a warm hug, kissing the top of your head. “let's go to bed so we can hug and cuddle all your want, lunch can wait.”

RI-KI

he would freeze for a good few seconds before looking over his shoulder and chuckles in amusement when he spots the cheeky grin on your lips. “no 'good morning' to your handsome boyfriend?” you laugh at his words, swaying left to right a little along with him. “i know you like this better,” he loves your cute laughs and actions, but he shakes his head, scoffing softly. “it's cheesy, if anything,” and when you turn away with an annoyed look, he wraps his arms around you from behind and pulls you closer. “i never said i didn't like it. besides—” he pauses, turning you around to make you face him and stealing a quick peck. “—i need my hugs too.”

[anachilles]

hi abbiee!!

for the hurt comfort prompt thingy : 'tell me where it hurts" for clegan pleassee <3

omg finally getting around to this!! thank u so much for the prompt, and i hope you like!!

“Why didn't you tell me?"

"What?"

"You've been up. Two missions. You didn’t tell me it was like that.”

Bucky knew Buck was sore with him, actually, genuinely for real this time.

Marching through interrogation with him, the chatter of the beaten-up, pale-faced men around them drowned out any notion of being able to continue their at first stilted, turned suddenly distinct lack of, discussion from the tense drive back across base. Buck didn’t so much as turn back to look at him even once on his way to his own crew's assigned table, eyes set ahead of him and weaving around things as if on autopilot.

He hid it well, was able to pull off the 'stoic, rock-solid lean-to' routine better than anybody, but Bucky could see he was shaken; caught the tremble in his fingers where they clutched the cup of coffee, miniscule but there.

After the sit-down debrief, as CO, Buck would then need to see to the injured men, get a run-down from Smokey on how long they'd be out of the fight, even after making it home. Great excuse to not talk to him some more.

Bucky turned on his heel towards the exit, gritting his teeth and biting back the urge to take it personally. Sometimes Buck just needed a minute to himself to work through stuff like this, Bucky rationalised. To process. He’ll be fine. They’ll be fine.

Before slinking back off to attend to yet more goddamn Air Executive duties (ones that didn’t involve getting into the actual air and doing something), he did manage to corner Curt, though, struck with an idea.

“Hey, what d'ya think about drinks tonight? You, me, Buck, some of the others, maybe?”

Curt, a little wide-eyed and clearly wired still from the mission - Jesus, it'd been his first mission too - smiled, nodding. “Yeah, sounds good. You ask ‘em yet?”

Bucky scoffed, playfully shoving the empty mug he hadn't managed to discharge yet into the other man’s hands. The bitter taste of whisky-infused coffee sat heavily on the back of his tongue. “You think I’ve got time for that?” he said, disdain clear his tone. “Buck’s in there with the rest of your guys, but I’ve gotta run… you ask him?”

For the rest of the day, through the endless meetings, and briefings, and making sure the guys' goddamn beds were made properly, as the hours ticked by Bucky fought against a knawing worry, Buck's rigid voice from the jeep ride ringing in his ears despite its characteristic stillness.

Maybe he'd had a point.

How could Bucky have let his best friend go up there, without him, and without the full knowledge of what awaited them? As part of their training, they'd of course been told what the dangers were, informed of how crucial but also how perilous the roles they'd play were.

Nothing can compare to what it's actually like, though, experiencing that first-hand. Facing down a minefield of flak and Luftwaffe gunfire and having no choice but to keep on going.

Being behind the yoke and feeling your plane sustain hit after hit, its outer shell shredding apart, and having no option but to keep on going.

Realising one of those hits took one of your engines and feeling your plane lurch menacingly to the left, or the right, under your hand, and there's nothing you really do about it other than manage it as best you can in the moment and keep on going.

Watching helplessly on as ships full of men they'd played cards with the night before or had breakfast with that morning were shot out of the sky, no parachutes emerging from the fiery wreckage, and suddenly feeling the weight of each of your own crew's lives in your hands that much more viscerally. The pressure to make sure that same fate didn't await them.

Feeling your heart leap into your mouth when one of them screamed over the radio that they'd been hit.

And just having to keep on going.

He'd let Buck face that blind and alone.

But at the end of the day, what choice had he? No words could prepare you for that. Any Bucky potentially could have found would've fallen inadequately short, he knew that without a doubt. The last thing Buck, or any man, for that matter, needed was to go up there for that first time more fearful than they needed to be, aware of the full reality of the horrors that faced them. They'd have plenty of time for that; 24 more of the mythical contracted 25.

It helped in some way, to just get up there, rip the band aid off, and dispel that unknown and survive it once just to know that you could. That went further in managing the fear going forward than anything else.

There was no way to go into that other than dry, maybe a little blind, not really.

That evening, he at least did both he and Curt the service of waiting until after they'd downed some of their dinner to press him about the plans for later, Buck's absence from the mess hall a blatant chasm.

"Nah, he said he was stayin' in," Curt reported back around half a mouthful of lumpy, powdered mash potatoes so gluey you'd need a boatful of gravy just to get through them. "...was complaining about his neck, maybe his head, bothering him, I think? One of those. Said he just wanted to go lay down."

Bucky's eyebrows furrowed immediately. If it were even possible, the potatoes solidified a fraction further, getting stuck in his throat on the way down. It could well have just been an excuse to beg off, but until he knew that...

He'd resigned himself to giving Buck space to deal with everything from today however he needed to, and actually hadn't been doing half a bad job at it either. He could've - probably should've - just snuck back into the barracks to freshen up, in and out, leave him be and not say a word, then swiftly head back out to meet the other guys. Since he'd apparently now arranged that, despite the initial motivation for doing so being moot now.

Would've, could've, should've...

He ended up cutting away from dinner early, what remained of his appetite quickly waning. Those nasty potatoes.

He went straight from the mess hall to the barracks, slipping into the still-mostly deserted quarters with a peace offering in-hand. Granted, Buck would probably have preferred it be coffee, but if this was one of those awful migraines he gets sometimes, the last thing he damn well needed was caffeine. Steaming hot, milky tea - just how the Brits seemed to like it - would have to suffice.

Bucky took a deep breath and crossed the room with an affected ease, setting the mug down on the bedside table as he dropped down into the rack beside Buck's own. The man in question lay outstretched, lounging though his posture seemed rigid, holding a book in one hand that he'd lowered as soon as he clocked Bucky's presence.

They held each other's gaze for a silent, expectant moment. Buck looked tired and endearingly sleep-rumpled in the muted lamplight. Always a sucker, Bucky blinked first.

"For you," he said, nodding towards the mug as steam curled up from the rim. "So have at it."

Buck nodded jerkily, seemingly before even thinking about it, as he winced a little at the movement. After a brief pause, he set the book face down and stiffly pulled himself up further into a sitting position, reaching for the mug.

Bucky wasn't quite sure whether he was relieved or unnerved that he clearly hadn't just been making up a convenient excuse for Curt and the guys, that there was actually something wrong.

To Buck's credit, he didn't even so much as wrinkle his nose at the the tea.

"Thank you," Buck murmured, taking a grateful sip.

"Are you okay?" Bucky asked, unable to help himself, annoyance rising that he didn't just know because of this stupid day-long disagreement. He'd seemed fine at interrogation, where Bucky had left him. "Curt mentioned something about your head?"

Buck tried to shrug it off, though the sudden movement made his face twinge in pain. "Not even. I just..." he started, bowing his head for a second, sounding embarrassed about it. "We got knocked about a bit in turbulence on the way back. Moved my neck the wrong way at the wrong time, must've pulled something. Didn't even realise 'til the adrenaline started wearing off."

A small, dulled kind of smile twitched at Bucky's lips. "You mean to tell me you made it through miles of Kraut artillery fire unscathed, only to then pull a muscle in turbulence?"

Buck sighed, rolling his eyes, though even he couldn't help but have a little chuckle at himself with him. Bucky could feel the ice between them melting away in real time, and suddenly his breath came easier to him than it had all day. Buck's momentary smile was a reflection of Bucky's own, though he quickly hid it behind the rim of the mug as he took another sip. "I don't want to talk about it..."

Even so, bolstered now, Bucky took advantage of the opening and shifted so he was sitting on the edge of the other man's bed.

"Tell me where it hurts, I'll see if I can help."

It must actually hurt a decent amount, with how quickly he gave in, not even bothering with the customarily playful scepticism or the banter Bucky could practically already script in his head. 'All those extra courses you had to take after getting Air Exec - who knew that included massage therapy?'

He leaned forward wordlessly and indicated to Bucky where the pain was focalised, and Bucky got to work. Gentle but firm, his fingers kneaded the muscle beneath, the other man's skin soft and warm under his fingertips. When Buck let out a soft little hiss, Bucky drove his thumb harder into the spot that'd driven it out of him, working, working, working on the tension.

There was an elephant in the room, though. One that only grew bigger, weighed heavier in the atmosphere between them, as seconds ticked by into minutes that it remained unaddressed. In that moment, Bucky prepared himself to speak up on it, when-

"John?" Buck beat him to the punch.

"Hm?" Bucky replied, embarrassingly quick.

"Look, I... I'm sorry about earlier. How I spoke to you. I've had time to think on it since, and I see where you're coming from..."

Bucky doesn't say anything, lets him take the pause before continuing. Buck could be so careful with his words, usually erring on the side of caution and saying little, when he did open up Bucky couldn't help but want to wring them out like a soaking wet rag. So he did, by listening. Making himself still.

It was part of what made Buck a great leader, one the boys genuinely respected the hell out of, as well as the ability to admit when he was wrong about something.

"I tried to imagine what I'd say to someone else who hadn't been up now that I have, and I just... I get it."

Bucky nodded his acceptance. "Still, I should've been up there with you."

Buck smiled, though it was solemn in its affection. "I'm glad you weren't."

He pulled away from Bucky's ministrations then, in Bucky's mind moving a little easier than he had been before, holding his neck steady with one hand as he reached into his bedside cabinet. Pulling out the lucky deuce, still with only the two corners bit off, he tried to offer it back but Bucky wouldn't take it.

"You hold onto it," he smirked, "Until I'm up there myself again to watch your six."

[my-moony-and-padfoot]

Would you want me to?

Word count: 1 300

TW: blood and stuff. But it's not too graphic I think?

I got the idea from a comment left on a post where I asked for fic ideas, so hey you if you want me to mention you here, please message me :)

“Sirius, what the fuck?” Remus asked, rushing over to his boyfriend, looking over him frantically. Sirius was covered in blood, there were blood splatters all over his face and shirt, there was a wound on his cheek, but there was no way all the blood could’ve come from the small cut. There was partly dried up blood sitting atop his lip and under his nose. His hair was wet, but Remus wasn't sure if it was blood or water or what, maybe he didn't want to know, especially not if it was blood. His breathing was heavy, like he had just ran a marathon, but his eyes were calm, calmer than they usually were. He was smiling like a lunatic, it wasn't his normal wicked grin, but something eerie, and so out of place in this situation.

“Don't worry, moons. It's not mine.”

“That’s not a fucking comforting factor. Sirius what-.” He ran his hand through his hair, letting Sirius take his other hand, smiling again. But this time it was softer, calmer, more Sirius-like. It still felt weird, but somehow comforting and calming the panic that had started to rise in his chest. “What's this Sirius? What- what’s going on?”

“Nothing, don't worry, baby.” He whispered, rising up to his tiptoes to kiss his cheek. Remus felt something stick to it, and when he brought his hand up to feel, he ended up wiping away blood. He looked at Sirius, there was just something about those eyes that made him trust, feel safe. It made something inside him calm down, he didn't have to panic, it'd be okay. “I'm gonna go take a shower.”

Remus nodded, but didn't let go of his hand so he could actually go. “Are you hurt?” Sirius closed his eyes for a moment, shaking his head, still smiling softly. “You'd tell me if something wasn't right? "

'Cause I really need to know. I wanna help.”

“I’ve just got a little cut on my cheek, love, that's all.” He smiled, bringing Remus' hand up to his lips, kissing his fingers before letting go of his hand and starting to walk towards the bathroom. “Oh, and I think my nose is broken.”

“Sirius!” He gasped, but Sirius just grinned, closing the bathroom door behind himself, and soon after Remus heard the water start to run. He sat down at a kitchen chair, running his hand through his hair, sighing as he glanced at the closed bathroom door. He got up after a moment, searching for the med kit they kept in one of the kitchen drawers, or that's where he had last seen it in. It took some time to actually find it, but when he did, he set it down onto the table, pulling out an ice pack to help with the swelling that was bound to happen, especially if it was broken like Sirius had said.

“Hello, love.” Sirius whispered, hooking his chin over Remus' shoulder while standing behind him, even though it was a bit difficult to do. Remus jumped slightly, not realising Sirius had sneaked behind him. He turned around so he could face Sirius, leaning against the counter, and looking at him. He was dressed in fresh clothes, no more blood, just his pyjama bottoms and one of Remus’ jumpers. There was still blood on his cheek though as it kept seeping from the wound. “You scared of me, darling?”

“When you fucking sneak behind me, yeah. Go sit down, I wanna look you over.” Sirius nodded, going to sit down in a chair, smiling as Remus walked over to him with an ice pack wrapped in a cloth. He gave it to Sirius, going to switch on the light so he could actually see. “Your nose is swelling up, and it looks like it's bruising. Does it hurt?”

“A bit yeah.”

“Hold the ice there, please, love? I'll get you some painkillers in a minute.” Sirius nodded, bringing the ice pack up to his nose, smiling up at Remus as he looked through the med kit. Then he started to clean the cut on his cheek, then covering it with a gauze pad, hoping to keep it clean. “You should go to the hospital. It doesn't look too good, y'know.”

“It’s gonna be fine.”

“It’s going to leave a scar, Sirius.”

“Mhm, maybe.” he hummed, looking out of the window for a moment, the sun was slowly setting, but then he looked back up at Remus. “At least I'll look cool.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “You’re an idiot.” Sirius just laughed, watching as Remus gathered the trash from the table and packed the med kit back up, then walked behind him into the kitchen, throwing away the trash and putting away the med kit. When he turned back, Sirius offered the ice pack back to him, but Remus shook his head. “I told you to keep it there, didn’t I?” Sirius groaned, but brought the ice pack back up to his nose anyway.

“C’mon love, it’s not even that bad.”

“Your nose is fucking broken.” He muttered while walking back over to Sirius and sitting down onto the chair next to him, taking his hand, smiling slightly as Sirius intertwined their hands together, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “What happened?” He asked nervously, biting his lip as he glanced away. The same anxiety started to rise as it did when Sirius had first walked through the door. He let out a stuttering breath as Sirius didn’t answer, but just kept smiling at him. Remus looked back up, this time with tears starting to burn in his eyes, he couldn’t help it, it just happened.

“Nothing happened, baby. Don’t cry, please.” He whispered, setting the ice pack down, shifting so he could lean closer to Remus, and gently cupping his cheek, stroking his thumb over his cheekbone for a moment before speaking again. “I’m okay, so are you…” He smiled softly, wiping away the tear that dripped down, making sure to look Remus in the eyes. “I was just making sure that you’ll be okay in the future, too.”

“Sirius what-?”

“Shh, it’s okay, I promise.” Sirius whispered, leaning to give him a tender kiss. Remus closed his eyes at the feeling, he felt safe, like always with Sirius, like nothing could hurt him anymore. He still didn’t understand though, he desperately needed to know what had happened, but at the same time, he wasn’t sure if he should know. They hardly ever kept secrets, so for Sirius to be keeping something like this, maybe it was for the better. Maybe it was better if he didn’t know, but oh, he really wanted to.

“Do you trust me?” He asked quietly, breath tickling against Remus' lips as he looked up at him. Remus opened his eyes, looking at Sirius, nodding instinctively. It was an automatic reaction, but he did mean it. He always did if Sirius asked. “Good.” He smiled, kissing him again before pulling away, looking at Remus.

“Sirius?” He asked after a moment, Sirius hummed, running a hand through Remus' hair, waiting for him to continue. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

“Do you really want to know?” Remus nodded again, feeling the anxiety wash over him once more, it felt like he was drowning in it, and he really needed for Sirius to pull him back to the surface. “I just want to keep you safe.”

“What…?”

“They’re not going to hurt you anymore.” He whispered with a small smile, eyes flickering between Remus' and the floor. “They won't…”

“Sirius what did you do?”

“Nothing, no Rem, I didn't do anything like that, just, y'know.” He chuckled, watching as Remus' expression changed, no longer panicked, at least not as much. “Nothing like that, baby.”

“Oh.”

“Would you want me to?” Sirius asked with a grin, smiling as Remus' eyes widened and he shook his head.

“No- no…” he rushed out. “Of course not.” Sirius just smiled, giving him a kiss before he got up from the chair letting go of Remus' hand, and started to walk towards their bedroom. “Sirius?” He called after him, Sirius hummed, turning around at the door, leaning against the frame. “What are you doing?”

“Going to bed, I want to sleep.” He said, and Remus nodded, still looking at him, unsure what he should do. “You coming, love?” Remus nodded slowly after a moment, getting up and following after Sirius.

A/N:

Hellooo <3

You've now read the most unhinged thing I've ever written, how did it feel? Did we like this? I'm not entirely sure how to feel about this one honestly, but I think it's good, maybe? Perhaps. While being the most unhinged thing, it is also the shortest one I've written in a while.

I really want to write stuff during the summer and I should have a lot of free time, but we'll see how I use it lol. Rn I'm working on a few different fics, one of them being Lily and Pandora, so look forward to that I guess.

Oh also, happy pride month everyone!

Remember to take care of yourself <3, hopefully you have a nice summer. See you around somewhere maybe, maybe not.

<3

[blacklegsanjiii]

Aahh your addition to actually girl sanji was amazing ✨ thank you

Its so funny to have them realising all the way to WCI/Wano, theyre all so silly. ALSO CHOPPER- He's new to the crew and giving them all a check up to get up to date with their physicals and he's all like 'dont worry Sanji your secret is save with me!! I wont tell anybody!!' And sanji thinks he's actually talking about the nr 3 burnmark (hc of mine that judge labeled all his children) so she's very thankful to him

Omg and the ship options... To many possibilities to choose from... Luffy going 'HES NOT A PRETTY BUT SHES A PRETTY GIRL?!!' Literally no fucks given nothing changes but he looveess the clothes and makeup nami gives sanji to wear (the liploss tastes like fruit and the dress fabric is so softt!!!)

Or sanami... Nami feeling attracted to sanji even though she's a lesbian and heaving a sexuality crisis cause is she bisexual??? But no she's still a major lesbian (or even funnier no attraction until its 'stupid guy -> stupid girl??!!!'

Honestly east blue poly would be funny as hell, so many possibilities

Also (sorry im rambling) SHES ZEFFS LITTLE GIRL 💥💥when she left with luffy, zeff 100% threatened the shit out of him (he also did this in canon but with his mind UvU) idk i fucking adore zeff and sanji protective of each other

And lastly??? All the regulars knowing??? Amazing, show stopping, ground breaking. Theyre coming to the baratie not seeing the cute waitress and when asked the staff says she has become a pirate cook of the strawhats

But whenever there's news its always talking about a guy and the wanted pictures are not so helpfull... So many possibility...

Have a nice day! Hope you had/have fun at your con :D

I'm so glad you enjoyed them! Fem!Sanji is fun to write, especially when no one knows she's a girl because how can you not know? She is Zeff's little girl! The dumb brat he gave up a leg for on a rock! She is his pride and joy, and everyone knows this!! Also, I love the idea of the burn mark and the confusion therein for Sanji because Chopper thinks she's trans masc when she's not, she's just waiting for her mom's genes to kick in more. Also the shipping, I agree with East Blue Polycule because you can fit all that in together in one go and no one is going ask questions. But I'm getting ahead of myself and skipping to the regulars first so that I can get some funny scenarios out of my head first.

First, Mihawk has watched this girl grow up and probably saw the fall out after shortly after Zeff butchered her hair. When he asked about it, he gave Zeff the most unimpressed look Zeff has ever received because good fuck he could have just braided it until they got into town? That's all he says about that because Sanji is still upset her hair is gone. Then some years later he's calling Zeff and asking when Sanji changed her gender and Zeff is confused because she hasn't but anyone and everyone are calling her a boy, even that crew she set off with. Mihawk is staring out of his office with the denden with an empty gaze as the greenhaired moron he almost slaughtered on the deck of Baratie is in his castle with one of his fellow warlords first mates and he's having a time but at least that hasn't changed.

Buggy is also probably really confused about 'Black Leg Sanji' and "his feats" and when Garp is arresting him they're debating whether or not Sanji would be a good marine until Garp calls her a boy and Buggy corrects him. Garp is staring down at the clown who looks back and is like 'wait, wait. Zeff's called her "princess" and you never questioned why he would call his son that?' to Garp's non-committal shrug of 'He's Zeff.' which, okay yeah, sure. It's Zeff but Zeff never used it in a derogatory manor. Sanji is quite literally his princess. She is the princess of the Baratie that Buggy used to do card tricks for because Zeff had no idea what the hell to do with kids.

Now onto the hilarity because East Blue Poly would be exceptionally hilarious. They all start dating and Sanji thinks Nami is going through a sexuality crisis because she's a girl where as Nami thinks Sanji's a boy and it's never cleared up. Sanji looks particularly butch because it made her life easier at Baratie, and she doesn't want to ruin dresses and skirts and blouses with cooking or blood. She also just never really wore make up unless Baratie was closed for some celebration or something, when she had a reason to doll up because she was so busy. Also she wakes up and goes to bed before and after everyone else so no one catches she's a girl. I think the hilarious exception of Ace clocking it in Alabasta and telling Luffy he's got the prettiest girl and the best cook wrapped in one is an amazing thing and Luffy goes with it but still asks why Ace called Sanji a girl and Ace is confused now. They never clear it up.

When Sanji is training and everyone is talking about forcing her into dresses Sanji is like 'I don't need to be forced, I love dresses! I just don't like ruining them with blood.' and coming back to Sabaody with a few dresses, skirts, blouses, more fem clothing and everyone is like 'you don't have to wear those if they make you uncomfortable' is sending some weird messages to her so she just doesn't wear them still. For the wrong reasons and everyone is confused. Like WCI when Sanji's in her wedding dress and fighting and mourning the blood on the dress and Luffy and Nami are asking her why she's in one because she doesn't wear that stuff and Sanji says she thought they didn't like them on her and the very quick explanation of 'we thought you were a boy!' is Sanji going 'How?' as Nami complains she had a sexuality crisis for nothing until Luffy asks about him, Zoro, and Usopp; Nami concedes that the crisis wasn't for nothing then.

Nami makes sure she's in a kimono like she and Robin are as an apology because they didn't realize that Sanji was a girl and was just dressing for convenience, she's not a boy and was a princess and she is loved.

Also my con was lovely but I'm so glad it's over.

[shadowsof-thenight]

Bound for Ruin

Summary: When Jenna meets Bucky it takes her a while to realise they both want very different things. But Bucky is a stubborn man, who rarely hears no and he's not about to take it for an answer now.

Ship: Bucky Barnes x OFC 

Warnings: Angst, sugar baby/daddy dynamics, some toxic attitudes.

Words: 4949 (just under the max amount!)

A/N: It's been a while since I entered Suz' (@targaryenvampireslayer) Blind Date challenge. The quote is bold.

She really put me to the test as the trope she gave me was Sugar daddy and that's far from my usual work. But instead of asking for something more familiar, I liked the idea of stepping out of my comfort zone. This isn't at all like I first imagined though, so I hope you'll like it.

And I apologise for any mistakes. This wasn’t beta’ed. 

She stalked into the club, paying no mind to the bouncers or security. They knew who she was and wouldn’t bar her entry. Her strides were powerful and confident, despite the fact that she’d realised there was no plan upon entering. She hadn’t thought that far ahead at all. She’d simply been too angry to think when she’d left her house, clutching the letter that tipped her over the edge. 

She took a breath as the loud music, the amount of people and the heat washed over her. Jenna never really liked clubs like this, preferring smaller bars where conversation was an option. Alas, this was where she’d find the object of her anger. It was his first business, the place where it all started and he came here every Saturday as it was the busiest day. Jenna looked to her left and saw girls dancing on the various platforms, as they did every weekend. 

She couldn’t suppress a smirk as an idea sparked in her mind. She could’ve sat down at the bar and he would’ve noticed her quick enough, but this might just be better. 

A devilish smile played on her lips as she walked over to one of the higher platforms and climbed up. Stepping on it, she told the girl already dancing to take a small break. The girl looked utterly confused and her eyes sought out the security guard that always stood nearby. He probably signalled for her to agree, because she backed off towards the steps.

“Don’t go far, you’ll have your spot back in no time,” Jenna added with a smirk as she took of her coat and threw it aside. She then looked straight at the camera and flipped it off, before unbuttoning her blouse to show some cleavage. Just enough to get a reaction from the one man she was doing this for.

As expected it only took Bucky mere moments to respond. He was out of his office and making his way towards her, scowling as he did so. Jenna schooled her expression as best she could, feigning innocence as she smiled and waved. She kept dancing, finishing the song that was playing, before signalling the girl to return. 

As she stepped back down, the security guard that had been quietly observing handed her her coat. She thanked him with a wink—knowing it would annoy Bucky further.  That was Bucky’s cue to grab her arm and pull her none-too-gently back to his office that was situated behind the bar. Inside the confines of his office he released her arm with a huff and began pacing the space between her and his desk. Seeing his frustration gave her an odd sense of satisfaction. She saw it as payback for all the trouble he’d caused her these last few months. 

She took a moment to quietly observe him. His handsome face was twisted into a grimace, his blue eyes hard and his beautiful soft lips pressed to a tin line. He really was an impressive specimen, she thought to herself, if only he was less stubborn. 

When Jenna had lost her job four months ago, she hadn’t imagined her life would become entangled with the man before her. Bucky Barnes had been nothing but an enigma to her. One of the most successful men in the city, incredibly private and therefore mysterious. Even though she’d met him several times through her friend Abigail, she never quite got a read on him. She still didn’t feel like she really knew him, but at least she knew which buttons to push for a reaction. 

For years Abigail had had an arrangement with one of Bucky’s best friends, Sam. He treated her like a queen—luxurious gifts, trips, a stellar apartment in their expensive city and a generous allowance. All she had to do was be available to him at all times. Abigail had tried to make the arrangement sound enticing to Jenna. Tried to convince her that this was a great deal, but Jenna care for it. She was ready for something more serious. For love, equality—freedom. The arrangement that Abigail loved so much, felt too limited to Jenna. And constricting. 

When she’d first gone on dates with Bucky, she wasn’t aware that he had expected the same arrangement. He’d buy her drinks, take her to dinner and charmed her better than anyone had ever done before. Jenna was certainly beguiled. Then he had offered to pay her rent and she’d gotten the gist of his intentions. It felt wrong. She had diploma’s, a good resume and interviews lined up—she didn’t need his money. She didn’t want to be a kept woman. Bucky had obviously been disappointed. He’d even offered her a job with one of his companies, but that didn’t seem all too different to Jenna. 

Then one by one her interviews were cancelled. People didn’t want to cross Bucky. They didn’t want to risk doing wrong by her and invoking his wrath. While she couldn’t really blame them—he’d proven himself a ruthless businessman—it still hurt that her abilities no longer mattered now that he was involved. She’d achieved everything before then on merit. She studied hard, worked hard and pushed through when things got tough. Yet none of that carried any weight now. 

Bucky hadn’t been ready to budge–unable to accept that any of her current state was due to his interest. He was enthralled. She was beautiful, smart and headstrong. Her ability to say no to him made her more interesting. He had been convinced that she’d come around to the arrangement he wanted. He was used to getting his way. 

When he discovered her financial strain, he’d imagined himself swooping in like a knight in shining armour, while she simply wanted to be her own saviour. She liked him, but she wanted to be an equal partner, not subservient. The massive mismatch had caused strive. 

He refused to help her get a job and she had fought his desires. But now, without a job and an eviction notice to boot, she was getting desperate. Going into his place of business and antagonising him had been her last attempt to get the upper hand. Just so she wouldn’t feel weak for bending to him. 

“What was that?” He growled. He stood straight, breathing deep in an attempt to curb his anger, but she could see him clenching and unclenching his fists. He was simmering, anger still close to the surface. Funnily enough, she thought he looked rather sexy. 

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” She asked, her tone haughty, the fingers of her right hand playing with her still opened buttons. 

“Are you here to accept my proposal? Or a job?” He asked, stepping close to her. 

“You really haven’t given me much choice,” Jenna exclaimed, pulling the eviction notice from her pocket and pushing it in his hands. Looking it over quickly, he had the good sense to cast his eyes down. 

“This was never my intention,” he said gruffly, taking a step back from her. 

“Then what was? You wanted me at your mercy, did you not?” She asked. “To control everything.” 

“I wanted you to want to be here.” He looked rather defeated as he still stared at the letter in his hands. 

“That doesn’t happen by forcing my hand,” she said, her words icy. She stepped closer to him as she spoke. “You arrogant asshole, why couldn’t you have left me alone?” 

Her words made him snap his eyes back to her. She stood close, perhaps too close she realised as she looked from his eyes to his lips and back. Why was he so hot? 

He closed the gap between them quickly, pressing his lips to hers before anything else could be said. They were soft as they moved against her own. His movements held no urgency as he pulled her close. She pulled back at first, but he moved with her—trapping her against the wall and she sighed into the kiss before returning it. She did like him, regardless of their issues. Not to mention that she was here to accept his conditions finally, to be his sugar baby. At the very least she could enjoy herself. 

Her hands found his shoulders, fingers gently tickling down his arms and he groaned into the kiss. The response intrigued her. If a simple touch could make him increase his eagerness, what else could she do to him? Her hands explored further, heat exploding inside of her as his actions mirrored hers. 

The following hours were spend mapping out what the other liked, wanted and was good at. Jenna wouldn’t call it mind blowing exactly—that was reserved for their first night together months ago—but it was good. Really good.  

“I don’t think control is that bad,” he said as he put his shirt back on, his back turned to her, and she smiled bitterly. How a few simple words could ruin her mood so quickly. She shook her head as she remembered that this was a business deal, even if she couldn’t help but feel like she caught the short end of the stick.

***

Five weeks later 

Jenna pulled away reluctantly. She was tired. She hadn’t had many full nights sleep in weeks. Bucky liked seeing her after work, but insisted on sleeping alone. Leaving her to pack her things and go home every night, while he turned around and slept. During the day, he was a gentleman. He took her on dates, listened to her, asked for her opinions, used her insights to make decisions, made her feel important to him. But at night, he kept her at arms length. Never quite opening up to her. That was until now. 

“Stay,” He whispered. 

She was already dressed, so she knew he’d been debating this. Standing by the door, she looked back in surprise. His arm was tossed over his face, so she couldn’t see his expression. Still his words had shown a kind of vulnerability he hadn’t offered her before. 

She assumed it was to protect himself. Still, this was him trying, wasn’t it? Jenna moved back towards the bed and sat down on the edge, pulling his arm away from his face. 

“You don’t want to sleep alone tonight?” She asked, looking him straight in the eyes. When he tried to look away, she gently took hold of his cheek and held his gaze. “Talk to me,” she added softly. 

“I don’t,” he said. The look in his eyes had never been quite as open as it was now. In all the months they’d known each other, there’d been a mask. One that didn’t falter, even during their arrangement. Not until this moment and her heart warmed at the thought of really moving past his walls. She knew she shouldn’t get her hopes up, shouldn’t read too much into it, but she wanted it so badly. 

Jenna took a deep breath, kicked off her slippers and climbed on top of him, holding him tight. He sighed, pulling the covers over the two of them and melting into the hug. His eyes closed and he fell asleep holding her tight. As his breath slowed, she allowed herself to ponder this change in attitude. He didn’t open up as a rule. She’d realised a while back that it was why he preferred their arrangement over a real relationship.She wondered what changed tonight—apparently he needed more than he’d been asking for and she wanted to give it to him. 

She knew this was a messy situation that would bite her in the ass soon enough, but she couldn’t help herself. She was falling for him, despite his attempts to keep a firm distance. With him now opening up to her even a little, that distance grew smaller.

***

Three months later

“You’re gorgeous,” his lips were close to her ear as he spoke. His warm breath sending shivers down her spine, as his fingers lightly danced over her lower back which was exposed in her dress. 

One thing she’d found in the last few months was that he liked touch. He liked being close, physical, even when it wasn’t sexual. Jenna definitely didn’t mind. Even if it complicated her feelings, she didn’t fight his proximity. Since that night where he’d asked her to stay, she hadn’t spend a single night alone. The distance between them seemed to have evaporated and her heart was ignoring the reality of their situation. 

They walked around the banquet greeting other guests. He was soft, gentle and comfortable and she liked being here with him. He knew how to make her laugh, how to make her swoon and how to make her cry out his name in ecstasy. She wasn’t just getting comfortable, she was falling in love. And it was dangerous. 

With his hand still on her back, he went back to the conversations around them. Business people discussing new plans or boasting about their latest successes. She smiled as she observed him, he was in his element and it looked good on him. Bucky was strong and confident as he explained his own latest venture. He was charming, making sure everyone around him felt seen. And when he smiled, it lit up the room. So she stared, she couldn’t help it. 

“You’re staring,” he said, a twinkle in his eyes. He pulled her even closer. 

“I was admiring the view,” she winked. Bucky smiled and leaned in for a kiss. 

“Thirty more minutes,” He promised with another kiss. 

“I’m okay. It’s a good view.” 

“Idem, but I know a better view,” he said and she didn’t need to guess what he meant as the fingers on her back teasingly dipped beneath the fabric of her dress. 

True to his word, Bucky pulled her from the conversations thirty minutes later. He told the people they’d been speaking too that they had an early start the following morning and it was time to go. She didn’t protest, even though there was nothing that would urge them out of bed the next day. 

His hands were on her sides as soon as they left the large hall. His lips tracing a feather light trail from her ear to her cheek as they waited for their coats. His lips found their way to hers as he first kissed the edges, first left, than right, before he smushed her lips and pushed his tongue inside her mouth. There was an urgency to his kiss, like he needed it. 

When he stopped, he looked deep into her eyes—a hauntingly enthralling look in those dazzling blue orbs of his—and he smiled happily. With a sigh he touched his forehead to hers, keeping eye contact and creating a stillness between them. It felt like he could see into the deepest part of her soul and she felt heat creeping up her neck and cheeks. 

“I want you,” he finally whispered, placing another kiss on her lips, this one more sensual. 

Their coats were brought out then, interrupting them, and they made their way outside where his driver was already waiting for them. Her hand warmly clasped in his as they walked and his lips close to her ear, whispering sweet little nothings. 

Bucky gallantly opened the door for her, before quickly walking around the car to join her on the backseat. Once seated the driver drove off and Bucky turned his attention back on Jenna. It started slowly, one hand trailing up her leg, finding the hem of her dress and then moving past it. His lips found her neck, finding the little pressure points he knew would make her sigh when he kissed them. Her hands made their way to his chest, playing with the lapels of his three-piece suit. Then she placed on hand on the back his neck and playing with the tips of his slicked back hair. 

“I love you,” she spoke the words before she could think. She meant them in that moment, more than she ever had with anyone in the past. But that wasn’t want this was and she quickly pulled back with a gasp. He still held her close, staring at her face while the seductive heat on her skin changed into cold sweat—had she ruined it? 

He cupped her cheek, not saying a word, the look in his eyes unreadable. Then he plunged his lips on hers and kissed her deeply, the urgency to his actions a stark contrast to the languidity of before. When he pulled back, his pupiles were enlarged. Jenna imagined hers were as well. Neither of them seemed to realised that they were still in the car. Not until a small knock alerted them of the driver’s presence. 

They offered apologetic smiles as they got out and quickly moved across the sidewalk and into the apartment building where Bucky lived. Thankfully the lobby was empty at this time of the night and they were able to walk through it and into the elevator without anyone speaking to them. Once in the confined space he pushed her up against the wall, pressing himself against her. She could feel his hard length pressed against her thigh and it ignited a heat in her core that could only be quenched by him. She pulled his face towards hers and hungrily kissed his lips, while his hands freely roamed her body over her dress. 

***

By the time Jenna woke up, Bucky was gone. He was supposed to have a day off, but he was nowhere to be found in the apartment. It wasn’t until she walked into the kitchen for a glass of water, that she saw his note. He’d gone into the office regardless. 

She sighed, they hadn’t spoke about her confession yet and she was eager to know what he thought. How he felt. Eager and scared. So instead of waiting, she looked at the clock and decided to visit him for lunch. No sense in postponing the inevitable.  

“Hey, love,” she said walking into his office after the secretary had let her in. Bucky was on the phone and held up a finger to silence her. She held up the bag of food to tell him what she was doing there and he pointed at the small seating area by the window. He soon ended the phone call and walked over to her. 

“We have to make this quick,” He was brusk. She hadn’t seen him like this before. “I have a meeting soon.” He added as he pulled her into him. “Lets eat then,” she offered, pulling back slightly. 

Bucky ignored her words and kissed her neck while his hands roamed over her body. His movements were rough, rushed and Jenna pushed his hands away. He halted his movements momentarily, looking at her and showing her that the wall they’d been breaking down was back up completely. Instantly she knew her words the night before had scared him off.

“Buck, what’s going on?” She asked, not ready to face her reality. 

“Are you saying no?” He questioned and suddenly she wondered what his intention was. Did he want her to walk away?

“I want to know why you’re acting like this,” she pressed. “This isn’t like you."

“I’m horny, you’re here. That’s how this works,” he stepped back from her, his fingers angrily combing through his hair. He’d been letting it grow out these last few months. She focussed on his movements to ignore the effect his words had had on her. ‘That’s how this works’. She’d thought or hoped that last night had changed things, but it hadn’t. This was still a business arrangement to him. Which wasn’t sufficient for her, not anymore. Her eyes pricked with unshed tears as she really let it sink in. 

He stood in front of the large windows that overlooked the city below, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his trousers. His silhouet in the weak winter sun was beautiful and she wished she could walk up behind him, like she had done many times before in this very room. She wished she could wrap her arms around him, just to feel him close. She wished to see the gentle side of him that he had shown her. Still, she knew better than to set herself up for failure. Fighting the tears that were burning her eyes and throat, she walked around the seating area and grabbed her wintercoat, her trendy tote and walked towards the door. 

“I’m sorry,” she said softly as she looked back at him—part of her hoped that he would stop her, but he didn’t even turn around. Finally she let the tears fall. opened the door and walked out. 

She knew what she had to do, even if it hurt. Jenna knew she could not ignore the situation they were in and she needed to act. She was not some damsel in distress—even if she let him put her in that position for months now. It was time to change that and get back to who she truly was. 

Getting back to the apartment felt heavy. It would be the last time she viewed this space. Walking in she moved quickly, grabbing a trash bag from the cupboard underneath the sink. Moving through the place, she grabbed everything that was hers from before and put it in the bag. Part of her was angry that she’d tossed her old tattered travelbag, even though she knew it had been on his last legs years ago. She could’ve used it now. Instead the trash bag would have to do. She didn’t take anything that he’d given her.

She wasn’t left with much, but she hadn’t entered their arrangement with much either so it seemed only fair. Looking at her cheap wallet, all hers, she took out the money and cards that were his. She only kept a little money to help her move—promising to pay it back as soon as she was able. 

She wrote as much in the note she left him, along with much more mushy comments. She apologised for the destroying their house of cards, for ignoring their initial agreement and trying to make it more than it was. And when she was done, she placed her copies of the keys on the table and left. 

She repeated much of the process at her own place. Thankful that one of her old suitcases had not been thrown out yet. It was old and ugly, but it was all hers. She opened her laptop and devised an email to be let out of her lease and anything else that could keep her in this city. Then she booked a bus ticket for that evening and wrote another letter. A longer one this time, telling him to let her go. She couldn’t remain where her love wasn’t wanted. 

***

Five months later 

It had taken her a some time to find her bearings. A broken heart was tougher than she had imagined it to be. She hadn’t felt the energy to do much of anything. None of the activities that used to bring her joy, felt more like a chore now—shopping, going out with friends, it was all too much. 

Jenna did manage to get herself a proper office job, not unlike the one she had last year. It paid the bills and even restored her savings little by little. After two months she could move out of the motel she’d been staying at and into a small but modern studio apartment. She was lucky that the cost of living was lower in this city. 

Then last week, some of her co-workers even invited her out for after work drinks. She found out that her co-workers were actually pretty fun. So much so, that she was meeting them tonight as well. 

It was Friday evening and in about thirty minutes she would be able to close her computer, freshen up at home and meet them at the diner across from it. Afterwards, her and Stacy were having a drink at a local bar. Stacy had been the one to show her the ropes at work. She was bubbly, eager and fun-loving. She reminded her of Abigail. 

Jenna missed her friends and made a mental note to call them this weekend. When she first left, she’d postponed calling them for a full week. Despite knowing they’d worry. She was crying too much to talk. But, Abigail hadn’t been mad at her sudden disappearance. She also promised not to tell Sam or Bucky where she was. And just to be sure, Jenna hadn’t given her a precise address either. Now, they tried to talk weekly, but they’d missed each other last week. 

In the first few calls, Abigail had kept her informed of Bucky’s movements, but eventually Abigail had realised just how painful it was for Jenna. So she stopped mentioning him. She barely even spoke of Sam and Jenna was grateful for it. 

“Are you ready to go?” Stacy asked, interrupting Jenna’s pondering. 

“Just about,” she said. 

“I have to run to the store quickly, meet you at the diner?” Stacy offered and Jenna nodded in agreement. Turning back to her screen, Jenna quickly saved her work and closed the program. Time for the weekend to begin. 

***

It had taken him quite a few months to finally find her again. When Jenna had gone, she really wiped every trace of herself from him life. She hadn’t taken her phone or the creditcards. She didn’t rent anything in the city, hadn’t applied to any companies as far as he could tell. Finally he had to accept that she left town. That’s when the real work started and he hired a private investigator—telling himself that it was just to ascertain that she was alive and well. Bucky tried to convince himself that all he needed to know, was that she was fine. He told himself that if he found her, he would let it go. 

Instead, this Friday evening, he found himself standing on the street where she lived, watching her greet people in a diner. He realised that she had rebuilt her life, to create it much like the life she’d had before him. A life where he wasn’t footing the bill or having any say. Just as she had wanted from the start. 

He couldn’t even be bitter about the turn of events. He knew he had ruined it himself. She said she loved him and pulled up a wall. It’s what he had always done before. Though he hadn’t quite regretted it as much without anyone else. One month after she had left, Jenny had sent him a check for the money she had taken with her on her hasty departure. The money had been the last thing he wanted. He wanted her back. To tell her that he loved her too, that he’d just been too scared. 

He realised that even in his fear, he managed to make it all about him. Like a spoiled child, used to getting his way. He’d gotten so comfortable in his life. People rarely said no to him. Only Sam and Steve wouldn’t join the yes-sayers. In the last five months he had realised that this wasn’t enough. He needed to have more people opposing him, willing to be honest with him.

As he watched her sitting down in the booth with her friends, he noticed the bright smile on her face. One of the woman had stood to hug her before scooting in to make space in their booth. He couldn’t interrupt now. He wasn’t sure he could interrupt her life at all. 

She deserved to be happy. His heart broke as he stared a little longer, before finally hailing a taxi and leaving. It was time to let her go. 

Except, unbeknownst to him, Jenna had seen him get into the taxi. He didn’t see the mad dash she made from the diner or the single tear that slid down her cheek as she watched him drive away from her. 

It made the surprise that much bigger, when he got a knock on his door one week later. 

“Why didn’t come talk to me?” Jenna asked as soon as he opened the door. He looked a tad confused, so she added; “ I saw you last week.” 

Bucky didn’t know how to respond. He hadn’t expected her to see him, he’d been so careful. And he certainly hadn’t expected her to show up at his door. Jenna didn’t exactly know what she wanted him to say either. She’d gone back and forth all week in her mind, would she go see him? Would she keep her distance? What did she want? Had he changed his mind about what he wanted? 

Eventually Stacy had told her that she would never know, unless she asked him. And living with the doubt could easily become too much. So at the risk of ripping open old wounds, Jenna had books another busticket. This time in the opposite direction. 

“Well, are you going to say anything?” She asked.  

Unable to form any coherent sentence, Bucky did the only thing he could think off. The one thing he truly wanted—he stepped into the hall, his hand cradling her cheek as he leaned in for a kiss. Jenna smiled into the kiss and kissed him back happily. 

“I love you too,” Bucky said as he pulled back for a moment. 

“Well, it’s about time,” Jenna smiled and pulled him in for another kiss. 

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

Grass

Alright, I promised gore and horror, and I have come to deliver! TW: gore, a brief mention of rape and cannibalism, and a lot of torture (some relating to genitalia)

Olive trailed her fingernails down the hallway, humming a little song. Today was a good day, she decided. It was a day to visit one of her old toys.

She'd forgotten its name. It was an it, of course. Once, it had been a she, though. A long, long time ago, she had sutured its vagina shut, holding it down and pouring thick window sealant into the gaping, disgusting hole. Watching as the liquid slowly hardened, erasing its femininity. By then, it was too broken to scream. Only the sweetest little whimpers emerged from its toothless mouth.

She swung the door open with pizzazz. “Hello, darling,” she announced.

The toy was curled up in a fetal position, its chest barely moving. When it heard her words, it tensed up. Rheumy eyes looked at her dolefully, and it crawled to her, pulling itself forward with its deformed limbs.

She inspected each one carefully. Its right arm had been broken after it had dared to try to pick the door, and she had forgotten to set it back properly. Now, it dragged uselessly on the floor.

Its left arm was still wrapped in barbed wire, the rusty spikes staining its delicious ruby flesh. How had that happened, again? Olive forgot things, sometimes.

She ran her fingers through its ragged clumps of hair. Skin flaked off. The toy was really on its last legs. Not physical legs, however, she thought, smiling to herself. Those had been torn off and roasted long ago.

No, these were its mental legs. There came a time when her toys finally broke, and lost the will to live. She was always impressed by how long they held out, nonetheless. Months of abuse and torture and all other kinds of fun, and they still believed someone would save them, in the very end. This one has survived a year, as she counted it. The longest any had.

Now, though? She'd had enough. It irritated her, to watch it survive so long. It had hardened, grown used to the pain. The squeals lacked the same delightful terror, the helpless, glorious fear that she so desired. “Sweetie,” she murmured. “I think it's time for you to go.”

It looked up at her, lipless jaws hanging slack. So it was listening, after all. She had wondered, sometimes. It seemed to have no brain, after all.

She admired the red, bleeding, toothless gums gums as she said, “Didn't you know this day would come? I'm done with you. I've got better toys now.” Letting out a laugh, she added, “Fear not, however. I will make sure your end is sweet. It is the least I can do, after all.”

She kicked it, just to watch it collapse back onto the floor. Its one good arm convulsed as the barbed wire dug into it. “Come on,” she told it, kicking her door wide open for it. “Let's go now, sweetie.”

The confused hope in its eyes made her giggle with delight. Oh, did it truly think it was going to be released? Did it think it could have a life, without a nose, fingernails or any ability to speak? Even if she tossed it into the lands above, it would realise that in the end, it was better off with her, where it had a purpose. She briefly toyed with the idea of showing it a mirror, and letting it see how worthless it had become.

“Why the hell not, actually?” She smiled down at it. Grabbing its thick leather collar, she hauled it down the hallway, to her bedroom. It was light, malnourished. She had cut off its breasts, leaving two ugly wounds. They festered with maggots, just like the rest of her. Honestly, she thought with some irritation, if it didn't want to go hungry, it should have just eaten the maggots and the lice. It was not as though she had just left it to starve, after all.

Olive's bedroom was nicer than the rest of the abandoned hospital, and she had no wish for her rug to be filthied by the toy's feces and vomit, so she dragged the mirror out. 

“There we go, darling,” she whispered. “I wonder, what do you see?”

“An emaciated, disgusting creature, caked in bodily fluids of every kind? What about your former self? Do you see that girl in those sunken, half-blind eyes? Do you see her in your stumpy legs? What about her fingers? I remember you had such pretty painted nails when I first saw you.” Olive fished through a drawer and pulled out a little glass box. “Look, I kept them for you! Aren't they pretty?”

The toy stared blankly at her hands. The nail polish still shone, though it flaked in some places. “Uh,” it croaked. “Uah.”

Was it trying to speak? Had she finally prompted it to feel hope again? Olive snickered. It would make her endgame all the sweeter, if it did. “Yes, darling,” she whispered in its ear. “I suppose you still think you're a person, within that worthless husk. But you're not, sweetie. I hate to break it to you. You're my toy, no more and no less. And now you're not even going to be that.”

It looked up at her, limp strands of blonde hair falling over its eyes. “Uuh,” it groaned. “Uhh.”

Olive shrugged. “People speak, dearie. You don't. I wonder what they're going to do with you, outside. Will they try to fix you?” She stepped on its head absentmindedly, slamming its face down into the floor as she walked back out into the hallway. Pity it no longer had a nose. The sound of it breaking would be delightful.

Her toy crawled after her as she meandered towards the exit. It had nothing left to lose, and everything to win, if she let it out. And so it mustered its final dredges of strength, the ones it had been saving to kill itself with, and it moved.

Would they write a book about it, when it escaped? What would they call it? The part of it that had protected itself with despair was drowned by clamoring voices. 

Plastic surgery could fix it. They could give her (Her, yes her! She was a her, not an it!) new legs. She could be a cyborg! Her clawing became more determined, even though the agony in her left arm grew as the wires scraped her flesh, clawing their way into her body. She had not moved like this for years, she thought. At least, it felt like years. Who knew how long it had been?

Finally, they came upon a pair of double doors. She looked up at her Mistr- No! She was going to be free! That- That- She couldn't bring herself to cuss out Olive. Even the thought of disobedience made her bowels quiver. They emptied themselves then, sending the festering sores on her thighs awash with fire. The humiliation did not matter anymore. She and her dignity had parted ways long ago. No, all that mattered was the glimpse of green grass, of sweet summer air and flowers. Anything other than blood and rot.

“Too excited?” Olive smiled benevolently down at her toy. “How cute.” She pushed the door open.

“Aah,” her toy said, excitedly. It- She had almost forgotten how the outside world smelled. Her nostrils flapped with glee, and she crawled onto the mud. “Graa.”

Grass, she meant. Glorious, green grass. It was so bright. So very, very bright. She had forgotten what bright colours looked like. The only brightness in her life was red, like Olive's hair and her blood. Green was so much better. Greengreengreengreengreen. Was this a dream? Green rhymed with dream, after all, she reasoned. She had not had good dreams in a while. Maybe she would die in her sleep. Maybe this was the dream to which she would die in her sleep. Maybe-

A firm boot to the crotch made her gasp, a noise she had not made in months. 

This had been a good idea, Olive decided. Her toy had never been so active at all. This was a good place to kill it, deep in the wilderness. Sure, the threat of being spotted was higher, but who would care about a piece of meat as mangled as that?

She spat on it, making it whimper. It began running- No, inching away. To stop it, she casually put her boot atop it and rested her body weight on it. The lovely crackle of broken bones emanated from it as it squirmed and squealed.

“What a noisy piece of meat,” Olive remarked. Grabbing a tuft of scraggly hair, she ripped the entire chunk of skin out. “Did you truly think I meant to release you? I suppose toys don't have brains, but this is silly, even for your standards.” 

She grabbed its face and twisted it to look at her. Those maudlin eyes met hers. If Olive had had a heart, she would have wept to see the fierce despair in that gaze, and the strength. It was a survivor, stronger than she could ever have known. But it had fought too long, and Olive had not had a heart, and so it knew it would die. 

It tore its eyes away from Olive and looked up at the brilliant blue sky. No, no matter what happened next, it had this moment. It had its summer air, and it had its grass, and it had the firm, deep knowledge that it would die being more than its torturer could ever hope to be.

***.

Congrats on making it this far, here's my taglist!

@coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch @ramwritblr, @urnumber1star, @fortunatetragedy, @bigwipscholar, @ratedn

@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west

@finicky-felix, @evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms

@drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @owldwagitoutofyou (Anyone else who wants to get added can tell me in the comments, pm me, or send me an ask about it!)

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

i didnt really think to check whether i had those colours embroidery thread before i started but i think it came out alright anyway

[sorikkung]

people interacting w wgoin in my notes... this would be a rly bad time to say all my writing will probably be on hiatus for the indefinite future huh

[handdrawnfantasma]

i’m the best at what i do and what i do is come up with increasingly more and more niche ideas for AUs that are of interest to a narrow demographic of me and me alone

[showmethestarlight]

So I think my thoughts on The Tortured Poets Department are that I'm a little conflicted. I think it is a good album, the sound is a bit Midnights and folklore and evermore, which is a bit messy but it kind of works. I think it's more of a matter of which kind of albums you prefer for where it falls in your rankings but the albums that are mostly slow songs that stay at the same level/tempo aren't my favourites so this isn't my highest (I love Speak Now for example for songs like Haunted) but I still had a good time listening and I still had a few I liked a lot on the album. I liked the sound and storytelling of But Daddy I love Him, I think Florence and Taylor's voices are really good together on Florida!!! I liked My Boy Only Breaks His Favourite Toys, and I loved the dark and deep atmospheric feeling of Who's Afraid of Little Old Me? And I thought Clara Bow got its message across really well. There are some songs I'm confused by and I think I'll need some time with to understand like Fortnight and Fresh out the Slammer and some odd little lyrics here and there that I think maybe could have been cut because they just felt out of place or unnecessary. And I just don't think I'll ever be much of a fan of Guilty as Sin? I think I like Cassandra but at the moment it feels too much like mad woman. I think those are all my thoughts so far, I probably need a few more listens to process everything.

[myname-isnia]

Suddenly got this really weird off-putting feeling in my chest that I usually get when I’m about to cry over something, but also with some general iffyness thrown into the mix, and for once instead of immediately giving in to it or getting pissed at my mind I tried to figure out where it came from

Turns out I would have been completely justified in getting pissed at my mind because turns out, the cause is that I thought about a fic concept I was really excited about a few months ago that I never ended up writing because I couldn’t get into the flow from the very first sentence. I thought about it for a whole five seconds and now we’re here. Fucking great

[fingertipsmp3]

Me: I think I’m getting over my irrational fear of demonic possession

Also me: *has a nightmare about demonic possession, wakes up from it at 5am, refuses to go back to sleep, and spends whole day tired*

[trainsinanime]

I wonder: Do Americans know about american school buses? Not their existence in general, but how they're seen overseas.

Over here, they're one of the symbols of America, on par with the Statue of Liberty, the flag, the Eagle, and well ahead of any chain restaurant you can name. People won't know any US states, but they will know these vehicles.

The thing is, here in Germany, we don't have dedicated school buses. The general idea is that kids go to school on their own. When that's not practical, they're expected to use (and given free tickets for) public transit. Public transit is designed around this requirement; there are many places where there is a bus, and anyone can get on it, but the route and timetable really only makes sense for school children. In case a dedicated school bus is really needed, that's generally subcontracted out, and the lines either use something like a Sprinter Van for smaller routes, or a normal city or interurban bus (often a used one that's a bit older). School trips are normal public transit, or a rented bus, typically a coach or regional bus.

It's not a perfect system, in the past couple of years there's been an epidemic of people bringing their kids to school in their cars instead of letting them walk, which is less than ideal. It is what it is. But building a dedicated network of public transit lines only for students, and building dedicated vehicles only for that, has never occurred to anyone here.

Of course we know about these buses, from movies and such, but they're as foreign here as cacti or pick-up trucks (actually we're seeing more and more of these here) or yellow cabs (all europeans will assume all cabs in the US are yellow until they actually visit).

You do see these buses here at times, because people still generally like the idea of the US, even if they have a lot of issues with a lot of details, and so folks bring them over, along with stretch limos and stuff (also not really a thing here). And of course, if someone goes to all that trouble, they don't do it to haul school kids, they rent it out for city tours or as a party bus or whatever.

So you see these yellow things as a symbol of faraway places, scenic vistas, some vague undefined idea of freedom that doesn't necessarily hold up to any contact with reality, and it's just a huge part of the whole US aesthetic.

And then you go to a student exchange with the US, and you finally get the chance: You yourself get to ride in one of these iconic chrome yellow buses! It looks just like in the movies! You get in, you drive in them a little…

…and you realise they're shit. Just the worst buses in the western world. Terrible suspension. Uncomfortable seats with weirdly high backs (so they don't have to put seatbelts in, they just restrict how far kids can fly in an accident). Everything made out of the cheapest materials. Turns out the reason why the US uses school buses like that instead of normal modern city buses, which the US has, is to save money and because they just hate kids.

And then it hits you why US Americans say "as American as apple pie", a dish that is made and enjoyed literally anywhere in the world, instead of "as American as yellow school buses". Of course the Americans already knew all this. They got tortured by these things forever. It would never occur to them to see this as a symbol of America, it's just a normal part of life for them. It's a symbol of school and school life and sometimes normalcy, and tells us that these actors getting out of it are supposed to be teenagers, nothing more.

But most people in Europe have, of course, never ridden on these buses. So when they see them in movies and TV, that's a giant big yellow signifier that we're not in Hessen or Wallonia or wherever anymore. A symbol of a different world, one that may be at most a once-in-a-lifetime-experience for most people, just like a picture of a tropical beach, Mayan Pyramids, the Great Wall of China, or Hildesheim (there's no reason to go there twice). And I think Americans don't know that, and that's fascinating.

[kenjakusbraincum]

can you pls write something about reader being sick and like not the cough and cold kind of sick- like really really sick, and sukuna realising how much he doesn't want to lose her to this sickness and how if she dies, he'll be alone again..🥺

You have NO idea how much I love this idea!!! I did go a bit overboard with it cause I love suffering though 👍 Still, this was SO much fun to write and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Vows

Sukuna x Reader

Word count: 4.5k

Tags/warnings: gn! reader, true form! sukuna, master/pet dynamic, fluff but most importantly ANGST, mentions of weight loss, mentions of violence, implied nsfw, reader dies in the end :( (sorry)

It's not the first time Sukuna has been made aware of your mortality. He recalls many instances when he's been reminded that you are human. Finite. The first time he wrapped his hand around your throat and squeezed with calculation while you were laying under him, and you looked up at him in fear for your life. Your little hand couldn't even wrap around his wrist, much less provide resistance. Or when he'd pull your hair a little too roughly, and hear a crack in your delicate spine. When you'd get sick, and humbly refuse his healing. So little as a tummy ache had you writhing on your bed.

You are so weak, so small, clinging to life like there was anything for you in it, beyond Sukuna. By all means he hates all of these things. So what witchery is this, and why does he care about you so much? Why does he keep you for years, and why does your company bring him comfort he hasn't ever known in his lifetime?

Still, as much as he cares, he doesn't notice when it starts. He's trained you to tolerate pain, after all. It's no wonder you hesitate to tell him. Little things like tummyaches and colds occur to you all the time anyways, and you never complain. Sure, you've grown closer to Sukuna, but he was still your master, and the rules he instilled in you from the start were always fresh in your mind, not to be crossed. Bothering him with everything that feels off always seemed inappropriate.

And Sukuna is just like that. If you're not screaming or crying, he won't know you're in pain. But he notices that you're acting off. And how he reacts really doesn't help your case, or encourage you to speak up about your condition. ''I don't have all day. What is wrong with you?'', he sneers when he catches you pacing too far behind him.

So you just sleep longer and preserve energy for when you are with him. You don't skip around as much anymore, or spend time doing your hobbies. Food doesn't taste so great anymore. You have a cough that gives you sleepless nights because it just won't calm down. And the time you owe Sukuna starts to feel like an obligation. You start to dread it. Dread slipping up, dread annoying him or failing to satisfy him. Dread being disposable.

When things start getting worse, it's hard to hide it even from him. He was taking you from behind one night, and you were grateful he couldn't see the look on your face. You thought you could do it. Sukuna was always demanding, but he would never force you to do anything. If only you told him before you felt yourself struggling for air, and your chest closing in on itself in tightness. You reached one hand back, frantically grabbing his wrist.

''Feathers, feathers!'', words came out as gasps, and you slumped forward when he let you go. You were panicked and crying by then, this kind of discomfort being foreign even to you, even after weeks of pain behind you. He hovered next to you with a puzzled look on his face. He wasn't even being that rough.

''What's wrong? Tell me.'', he said, and reached his hand to feel the warmth of your tears streaming down your face. He swiped your cheek gently. He didn't seem mad at all. Why didn't you say anything from the start?

''I just feel so sick.'', you muster up in between sobs, and shut your eyes. You were too embarrassed to even look at him.

''I see.''. His hand leaves your face, and he traces it from your neck down your spine. The pain subsided slowly, allowing you to relax and find comfort in his arms.

But the effects of his healing were short lived. Just a week later the feeling of fatigue creeps back into your life. Manageable, but lingering. And the cough persists. And it gets on Sukuna's nerves too. He's been quite patient with you, but his patience was reaching it's limit.

You're sitting by his throne as you often do, and as hard as you try to hold the cough in, you just can't help it. His hand finds the back of your neck and squeezes, turning you to him. And he looks at you with all four, terrifying eyes. ''Can you shut up?''

''I'm sorry, I'm trying -'', you stutter, but just end up coughing more. He doesn't wait for you to stop.

''Get out of here.'', and pushes you away. You stumble down the pile of bones and fall, landing on your hands and knees. You don't remember him being this cruel to you in a long time. You look back at him with teary eyes, and he looks back like the merciless monster he is. The villagers awaiting him moved to make space for your fall, taking note of the tense situation.

That day, Sukuna sends word that he doesn't want to see you until you get better. You're forbidden from going outside again, in fear that that is making your 'cold' worse. It's a lonely week in your room, until Sukuna starts to crave you again. It didn't take him a while, counting the couple days he spent convincing himself he doesn't miss you. He does. So when he sends word for you again, and the servants come back to him saying you're still not feeling well... he's worried. So worried he comes to see it for himself.

Sukuna rarely comes to your room. It's the only space you have for yourself, and he doesn't want to take that away from you. Your room is modest. You have a bed, a carpet, and a couple shelves to house the books he's gifted you. There's a desk where you can eat and read, and a doorway to the garden. There's an empty glass of water and a napkin next to your bed. You're still sleeping, but the door shutting behind him wakes you up, so he doesn't get to enjoy observing you in your natural habitat for long.

It's not the first time doors opening and closing woke you up. But you know this time is different. The servants are always quickly shuffling around the room, cleaning up and moving around. Uraume clanks with plates. There is no noise now, other than your strained breathing and a cough brewing in the back of your throat. Besides, the aura that Sukuna brings with him everywhere he goes is recognizable. Especially to you. Heavy.

You turn around, and meet the gaze of his four eyes. ''Master...'', you struggle to sit up, and even a little action like that has spots forming in your vision. Then a coughing fit hits you. You pick up the napkin and put it to your mouth.

Sukuna sees your whole body strain with the effort of coughing. And when you call him master, even your voice sounds different. He knows your morning voice. He missed hearing it, but this... this is not it. You sit with your head hung low, staring at the napkin between your hands. There's a fresh splatter of blood on it. But Sukuna scares you more than the progression of your illness.

''Are you mad at me?'', you ask timidly, meeting his gaze.

''I'm concerned.", he says and sits next to you. You curl up to make space for him. "Two weeks is a long time for a frail human like you to be sick.", he looks at you, scanning your form up and down.

"I rested and drank every tea Uraume told me to!", your defense mechanism kicks in, and you start babbling.

Sukuna dismisses you with a hand and a pained facial expression. "I know.", he says. His brows are furrowed now, and he's looking at the ground, lost in thought.

You feel guilty for annoying him again. You feel guilty for the whole thing, getting sick, draining the energy it takes him to heal you, robbing him of the time with you that he deserves. Owns. He is very generous with the way he treats you, having all that in mind.

You tug on his sleeve. "I'm sorry, Master... You deserve better.", and you're sobbing again. Sukuna gives you a pathetic look, but smiles as he pulls you into his embrace.

"Silly pet. I can survive a couple weeks without your assistance.", he says, rubbing your shoulder.

You run your fingers against the back of his hand mindlessly, not knowing how to respond. Caressing his knuckles, bones, veins... feeling his nails and their sharp tips against your sensitive skin. When you bring his palm up to your lips, your kiss stains it red with blood.

-

You still sleep with Sukuna sometimes. Less frequently, only on days when you feel well enough, and those are rare. You've lost weight by now, sickness making itself visible on your body. You're sitting on his lap and clinging to your robes, scared that he won't like you as much, that you won't live up to his standards. But Sukuna's demeanor about your illness has changed, as he seemed to sense something unusual about it. He flips you over so gently, like you're made of glass, and peppers kisses from your neck downwards, slowly undressing you as much as you allow him. When he takes you, he's so careful. Constantly checking you're comfortable and enjoying yourself. You feel so loved and relaxed, and pleasure comes so easy when you're in this state. It's not the first time Sukuna is this caring with you in bed, but this time is different. This time you can't help but feel like he's saying goodbye.

He holds you afterwards, tracing his fingers over the ridges of your spine and your shoulders. You were always little in his grasp, but now that he feels your protruding bones under his fingertips, you seem all the more vulnerable.

"Will you kill me?", you ask, breaking the silence.

Sukuna frowns. "Nonsense. Why would I do that?"

There's a gulp in your throat. "It won't be long before I can't even do this. I won't be of any use to you then...", you say.

"Stop.", he says sternly. "There's a lot more to you than what you provide me with in bed."

You smile to yourself, but there's still a hole in your chest. Your statement is still true, and you aren't comforted. But this is Sukuna, and you know that he's offered you quite a lot even with that little bit of reassurance. To your surprise, he speaks again.

"Don't upset yourself. It's been a long time since killing you crossed my mind.", he says. "Save the energy for something else."

You nod and thank him. Just moments later, you're asleep. Quicker than ever before, he notes. You usually love it when he lets you cuddle and talk to him. You would force your eyes open when you were sleepy, just to enjoy it longer.

He feels guilty. He's your master, he's responsible for your well being. Yet nothing he does seems to help you long term. Healing you is temporary and he knows that without accessing the source, it will never work. If he could, he would find what was making you sick and rip it out of you with his bare hands, crush it with the force of his palm. He would have to look deeper, open you, and for once, he thinks he can't open a human being. He thinks of you trashing, screaming, and worst of all, looking into his eyes. Just the thought of you like that makes his chest feel like a gaping cavity. Worst of all, he's sure you would let him. He's sure you would forgive him for spilling your blood, and find comfort in his arms again. If you survived, that is. What has he done to you? And to himself?

Now, your head rests on his chest, and you're snoring lightly. For once, a repetitive noise like that doesn't annoy him. For once, he wishes he could listen to it every night. One day, that noise will be the only thing audibly confirming you're still alive.

-

Months pass and you're only getting worse. You barely leave your room now, too weak to even do so. You eat little, and it's showing in your sunken cheeks and eyes. You feel yourself withering away, loosing color, drying like a dying flower. Sukuna is in grief. He struggles to look at you, and visiting you falls heavy on him every time. He always finds himself thinking afterwards. Regretting that he let himself get this attached, wishing that he could simply forget you. But it doesn't work that way.

He goes to see you, after avoiding you for a week. He's Sukuna, he doesn't have any shame. You're sleeping, like you usually are when he comes to visit you. Your snoring is laboured, and it sounds painful. This time, the doors and the silence don't wake you up. He watches you, curled up under a stack of blankets, rising and falling with your struggles to breathe. How foolish he was, to think forgetting you would be as easy as avoiding you for days. How evil he was, trying to forget you while you are still alive under his wing, still his responsibility. Still his.

He sits next to you and leans over you, fingertips ghosting over your face. The snoring stops and you flutter your eyes open, turning in bed and feeling his body next to yours. You smirk at him, eyes adjusting to the light, and smile when you recognize him. ''Master.'', your arms wrap around his neck as you welcome him, your voice dry, but lively as you beckon him closer. ''I missed you.''.

He comes down to plant a kiss to your forehead. ''I missed you too, darling.''. Oh, the things that escape his mouth when he's alone with you. He cups your face, enjoying how much healthier you look with a smile on your face. ''Feeling any better?'', he rubs your cheek, lingering closely above your face.

You nod, but both of you know you only feel better because you saw him. Still, the little surge of happiness that brings you gives you more energy than you've had the whole week. You wiggle to the edge of the bed, making space and inviting him to join you. Sukuna lies down, hooking one arm underneath your neck and pulling you flush against him.

You wrap your arm around him and lean your head against his shoulder. He's still as big as you remember him, unfaltering in the face of your illness. It's comforting. ''You didn't visit in a while. Were you busy?'', you ask, stroking his back. ''How were your days?''

''Monotone.'', he says. ''The villagers bring remedies for you every day, and wish for you to get well.'' It's no wonder. So many times, Sukuna found himself hesitating to kill just because you were sitting on his knee, dressed in something too pretty to be splattered with blood. In the local villages, word spread that you have ''domesticated'' Sukuna. As if such a thing was possible. Or was it?

''Oh?'', you smile. ''I didn't think they would notice my absence.''. You always were supposed to be Sukuna's accessory and nothing more. Remedies and good wishes make it sound like you're more important than just a pet. So it really is that obvious...

''They did.'', he says, and lowers his head, brushing his nose against your face. ''Some took that as an opportunity to gift me new pets.''

You blink at him, a bit taken aback by his honesty. You keep smiling anyways. ''Did you take any?'', you ask, and he sees nothing but genuine curiosity in your eyes. The truth is, you've had a lot of time to think about your place in Sukuna's mansion. You knew, especially in sickness, that you were never entitled to exclusivity with him. You knew that at some point you would have to be replaced, just by the virtue of being a mortal. A human, who would age and become ugly, wrinkled and useless. You were just unlucky enough to meet this fate sooner than you should've.

Sukuna sighs, the weight of the conversation shifting to him. ''Not to bed, no.'', he says.

You're quiet while you think of what to say. You still have a habit of picking words when you're with Sukuna, but the times when he would punish you for improper formulation are far behind you. "Why not?", you settle. You hope the implication is there, that you wouldn't be so mad even if he did.

Why not? Because he thinks it might break him. Because the image of someone else in your place, under him, feels unnatural and wrong. He thinks the guilt might eat him alive. For once in centuries, someone else's needs come before Sukuna's. He is gone, so far gone. You've raised his standards, and he's not sure anyone he takes now will be able to live up to them. Besides, training a new pet to fit your mold would take years, and even then... He couldn't train someone to love him. Not like you do.

''I wouldn't want you to hold back because of me.'', you say, and he realizes he's been quiet for too long. Years ago, if you dared to imply that Sukuna would do such a thing as hold back because of you, that he cared, you would've been minced meat ready for dinner. Now, he looks down at you tenderly when you say it. Well, a tender look from Sukuna is a docile one. You've gotten used to the way that Sukuna communicates love. Subtly, innocuously.

''Worry about getting well, pet.'', he shuts down the conversation, and moves away from you, sitting back on the bed. ''Any wishes? Food? Activities?'', he asks, and feels your forehead with the back of his hand.

Food? No, but... ''I'd like you to stay, please.'', you say, and take his hand with the two of yours, feeling it up with your thumbs.

Sukuna resists the urge to roll his eyes, knowing the thought of annoying him would upset you greatly. ''That's a given. Anything else?''

You pretend to think, then just babble your favorite food. Sukuna takes your order to Uraume. But when he comes back, you're already asleep again. He waits by your side, but you don't wake, so eventually he leaves. By the evening, the plate of your favorite food remains untouched.

-

You can't leave the bed on your own anymore. Sukuna carries you outside when you're feeling good enough. You barely have the strength to latch onto him securely. Still, it's hard to slip out of the grasp of his four arms. He says you've gotten pale. You lay in his lap and bask in the sun, while he tells you about his day or reads a book out loud for you to enjoy. You wish you could talk to him more, but your voice leaves you as days of endless coughing wreck your throat. No herbs and teas ease your condition anymore. You wait for your final day.

And Sukuna doesn't know when he's given up on the idea that you might get better. But he starts spending whole days with you, leaving your side only to sleep in his bed. He tends to almost all your needs personally. You think that if you asked him to get on his knees for you, he would. He is not familiar with this ache that brews in his chest when he looks to his side and doesn't see you there. It feels violating. To be as powerful as he is, and yet completely helpless in the face of the sickness that drains you in front of his very eyes.

He plays with your thinning hair one morning, and you look at him from his lap, as adoringly as always. ''Isn't it funny?.'', you say, and he snaps out of his thoughts to look at you. ''I always imagined dying by your hand.'', you kiss his hand again, planting your dry, blue lips against his knuckles. ''Who would have thought?''.

You, you little human. You made him feel like a fool, like a coward. You made him feel powerless. Who could ever get away unscathed with making Sukuna feel like this? The thought of killing you now, even out of mercy, fills him with horror. He thinks he couldn't live carrying the burden of your death on his back. It's already hard for him as is.

When he's not with you, he withers away in his room, waiting. And when the servants finally come, and tell him you're at your last strengths, he feels as tense as he feels relieved. The servants shake in fear of his reaction, and he simply dismisses them. In a thousand years of his existence, he doesn't remember having to prepare to enter a room. His hand trembles as he brings it up to push the door open. He dreads what awaits him inside.

He expected blood, hysteria, chaos, yet there's none of it when he walks in. Just the pained noises of your breathing. A servant, your favorite, sits by your side and wipes sweat off your forehead. She talks to you in a comforting tone and pats your head gently. When he walks in the room, she lowers her head and moves to leave. It's only a second, but he sees the sad look on your face. ''Stay.'', he orders, and the servant bows and thanks him.

You move your attention to him, raising your hand to greet him weakly. He picks it up and bends down to kiss it. There's tears in your eyes as he settles into a seat next to you, and you open your mouth in an attempt to say something.

''Easy now.'', he shushes you, and helps you into his lap. You lean back, looking at him through a blur. His features appear even more doubled through the tears, and you still find his beauty mesmerizing. Your master. Your own little god and protector. Although he regrets it, you've never claimed the title of his spouse. Yet, he still stuck by your side, until parted by death. In sickness and in health.

He wipes your tears, and the mouth he conjures onto his hand kisses your forehead. One set of his hands caresses your face, the other massages the tension out of your bony shoulders. Sukuna knows how important it is for you to pass in peace. He doesn't want to curse you, or have despair turn you into a curse. "Relax now.", his voice is so soothing, as if lulling you to sleep. "It won't be long". You weep. What did an ordinary human like you do to deserve this honor? To be comforted on their death bed by a god. To be guided to death by him.

"Master.", you sob. "I'm so scared..."

Delicate touch against your skin. Sharp nails grazing your cheek ever so slightly, just barely enough to make their presence known. "Have no fear.", Sukuna looms over you like a snowdrop. "Where you go now, pain won't follow.". You speak to him a little longer. Tell him all the things you always wanted to tell him, but were scared of the consequences. Dangerous words, ones that were rarely associated with Sukuna. Love. And Sukuna is attentive, so human. Your blinking slows and you find comfort in his voice, as he returns every loving word back to you. Your pained breathing follows, and your eyelids are so heavy. But the sight of him is so hypnotizing, you wish you never had to look away. "You are so brave, my little dove. Go now, be free.". You were too good for this wretched palace anyways. The sight of him is etched in your memory as you close your eyes. "It was a pleasure to have you by my side.", you listen, feeling control over your body slip through your fingers. When you can't move, or feel his touch, you still hear his calm voice. "When you're ready, come back to me. I'll be waiting for your return.". Then everything is quiet, for you and for him. The servants cries are muffled by the sheets, where she has her head pressed by your side.

The hallways, silent except for the busy tapping of feet. Outside, the wind blows petals off of blooming flowers, leaving them bare and stranded. Autumn is here to carry you away.

Servants hold their breath when Sukuna walks by. One wrong look at him and the walls would be painted red. Just like before. Before you. And it's not long before Sukuna looks like a monster again - red eyes and a permanent frown etched on his face. Villagers bring bouquets, and lay them to the right of his throne, where you used to sit. He stares them all down, and only for a moment thinks that maybe, humans are not the scum he thought they were. But then he remembers, they only mourn you because you held him back from his destructive tendencies. Scum.

And he kills again. The first is a villager from afar, where news of your passing hasn't reached. Ripped to shreds for mentioning you. The women who screamed, their blood soaks the carpets and seeps through the wooden floor, dripping down to the cellars. He feels like himself again, unhinged, unbeatable.

Until the day is over, and he goes back to his empty room. His cold, empty bed, and the old habit of reaching for you in his sleep, only to grab nothing instead. And the crocheted figures of the two of you on his nightstand, watching him as he struggles to sleep alone. He can't bear it. So he leaves, and doesn't come back for days, weeks, months.

Smoke clouds the skies on the horizon once again, after years and years of peace and clarity. As far as the eye stretches, the world will know of Sukuna's wrath. But as thrilling as it feels to conquer again, when the village is burned and ash covers the grass on the ground, the thought of you still lingers. Your devastated eyes the first time he's killed before you. The first time he's felt guilty about his monstrous nature. When he comes back, no one's warm embrace awaits him. No one's there to brighten up his day. No amount of blood shed and villages burned replace the emptiness you left behind in his heart.

The grief settles, and sits heavy in Sukuna's chest, as he assumes position in his lonely throne again, and gazes at the row of people waiting to beg, talk, offer... bore him. Another eternity of boredom. An eternity of picking through thousands of humans, in vain hopes of finding you again. In vain hopes of recognizing you, even if it's lifetimes from now, when the last memory of your face has already faded from his mind. When generations change, and the thought of a monster like Sukuna being capable of tenderness vanishes. When the fire in his chest, ignited by love, is already a memory so distant, that recalling it feels surreal.

Maybe he will forget you by then. Maybe times will harden him again, and the idea of a pet becoming his lover will make him laugh. But for now, the thought of finding you in a crowd, taking you in his arms and never letting go, is his comfort and safe place. For now, he will wait for you. As long as it takes, like a stone, unyielding against the passing of time.

[omgeto]

☆ GHOSTING — GETO SUGURU X READER

summary: after being made aware of your long term ex boyfriends plans to 'fix' the world, you knew that you had to try and stop him. but seeing him for the first time in a decade; all the love, the hate, the heartbreak comes right back to you both and you realise you care about him a lot more than you thought.

wc: 4.7k (of pure goodness....)

cw: afab!reader, mdni, angst to fluff (kinda) cult leader ex boyfriend!geto, kinda sorta canon (its the day that geto yk...) he eats you out like its his last meal, half hate fucking, full making love, and a whole lot of geto being culty and cunty. this one has a plot people!!

authors note: guys yk I love a good exes to lovers fic so the argument in this one hits different and the whole idea of you and suguru breaking up just before he runs off to run his cult really gets to me, so I hope you enjoy this one.

geto suguru hasn’t seen you in years, in almost a decade, and is still reeling harshly from how you left him when he needed you. but somehow he finds himself rushing to meet you when he gets the four word text from your number—which is still saved in his phone under ‘my girl’— saying, ‘we need to talk.’

he knows exactly what you want to speak about, he could easily put together why today of all days you’d want to see —after vanishing him for just over a decade. he figured gojo probably gave word to you, as from when you’ve been young and growing up together, you’ve all known that if gojo couldn’t get through to him, you could.

he opens the door to your apartment, knowing that you wouldn’t have locked it—you always had a habit of leaving it open for him. and there you are, standing in the dimly lit room, waiting for his arrival. the years have etched subtle changes onto your face and in your demeanour, but the essence of who you are remains unchanged. time may have separated you, but in this moment, it feels as though it has never passed.

“you can't do this,” is the first thing you say, your voice steady despite the unexpected surge of emotions upon seeing him again. you didn't think seeing him after all this time would affect you, but it did. his hair is longer, his frame more imposing, but that unmistakable smirk remains, a haunting reminder of the man you once knew.

“wow right to the chase,” he chuckles bitterly, his presence taking up the room as he enters the room further, “i forgot you never really had a thing for beating around the bush.”

you meet his bitter chuckle with a steady gaze, your resolve unwavering. the years of separation have done nothing to diminish the intensity of your connection, the push and pull between you two.

"it's not the time for games, suguru," you reply, your tone serious. "you know why i called you here."

he sighs, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly. the weight of his plans, the burden he carries, is evident in the lines etched on his face. "i figured you'd call sooner or later."

the room seems to shrink as the gravity of the situation hangs between you. the man you once knew, the one who could make your heart race with a smile, now stands before you, shrouded in darkness.

"i won't let you go through with this," you say firmly, your eyes never leaving his. "there's another way, suguru. there has to be."

for a moment, his façade cracks, and you catch a glimpse of the person he used to be, the one who believed in a better world. but then the hardness returns to his eyes, and he steps closer, his presence overwhelming.

"you always were too idealistic," he mutters, almost to himself. "but i can't turn back now. the world needs this change."

"what happened to you?" you snap out, your words laced with a bitter edge that hangs heavily in the air. it's a question that carries the weight of your years of frustration, anger, and confusion. but you knew what happened to him; everyone knew.

his reaction is immediate, and the room seems to tremble with his anger. his gaze narrows, and the atmosphere becomes charged with tension. "you don't get to ask that," he spits out, his voice dripping with bitterness. "you left, remember? you abandoned me when i needed you the most."

“it wasn’t like that,” you argue, leaning forward, your body tense. “by the time i left you were already gone, being physically present in a relationship doesn’t mean anything if your mind is fucking checked out all the time. at that point i was just dating a shell of you.” 

“is that how you justify it?" he retorts, his anger unabated. "you think leaving was the solution?”

you clench your fists, your own anger rising to meet his. "i did what i had to do to protect myself, suguru. you were spiralling, consumed by your own darkness. I couldn't save you"

his eyes blaze with a mixture of fury and hurt. "you think i needed saving?

“you still need saving,” you scoff gesturing to him standing right in front of you, “just because you couldn’t save—”

“don’t even go there,” he interrupts, his hand raising to stop you. he knew you were talking about riko, “i’ve made peace with that.”

“oh have you?” you accuse, “since it seems to me, you’ve been on a killing spree, ever since.”

“other people died y’know,” he hisses out, “remember haibara? he was your fucking friend, but you weren’t even there.”

“this isn’t about me,” you say disregarding his comment, regret seeping through you, “you think i haven’t kept tabs on you since i’ve been away. who have you become?”

he glares at you, his anger evident. "i've become what the world needs," he snaps, his voice heavy. "someone willing to do what it takes to change things."

"and is killing a village full of people the way to do that?" you challenge, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and sorrow. "killing your..." You pause, overwhelmed by the thoughts and images of what he's done. "was killing your parents worth it?"

his expression hardens, and for a moment, you see a glimmer of regret in his eyes, but it's quickly masked by his resolve. "i had to make sacrifices," he says coldly. "it's a small price to pay for a greater cause."

“you can’t truly think that,” you say, taking a step closer to him, your fists still clenched at your sides. “how did it feel killing them then? to take away the lives of your own parents who were innocent?” you probe, you knew that there was some part of him that must feel bad.”

“you’re about… ten years too late to be trying to have this conversation with me,” he shrugs, the turmoil that geto felt when he first set out on his mission has ceased. the guilt he felt for killing his parents, even the grief he had for something that he caused, wasn’t a factor for him anymore.

your frustration boils over as you press him further. "so, you've become heartless, then?" you challenge. the room seems to tighten around you as you await his response. "a cold-blooded killer who's convinced himself that the ends justify the means?"

geto's gaze narrows, his patience dwindling. "it's not about being heartless. it's about doing what's necessary to achieve our goals."

"your goals," you emphasise, "not mine. and not the goals of the innocent people you've hurt along the way."

he sighs, exasperation creeping into his voice. "you always had a way of making everything so complicated, questioning every choice. you left because you couldn't handle the real world."

you shake your head, unwilling to accept his justifications. "no, i left because i couldn't stand by and watch you become a monster."

“so i’m just a monster, yeah?” he retorts, stepping towards you, his anger evident across his face, you could see your words triggered him, and as he gets closer you could feel your facade faltering. 

your heart races as he approaches, and you raise a hand instinctively, palm out, to signal him to stop. "don't come any closer," you warn, your voice trembling with a mixture of fear and anger. there was no rational reason to be scared of him, you’ve known him for years, and despite everything that he’s done —what he’s become— there was still a part of you that believed that he wouldn’t hurt you.

but geto ignores your plea, his determination unwavering. he grabs your hand firmly, his grip surprisingly gentle despite the intensity of the moment. his dark eyes bore into yours, and he speaks in a low, taunting tone, "why? are you scared that with me being this close, you're going to realise that you loved a monster? that you're still in love with him?"

you grit your teeth, refusing to let him get under your skin. "suguru, you don't get to manipulate me with your twisted version of love," you retort, your voice laced with defiance. "i won't let you use my feelings against me.

his words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you're torn between the conflicting emotions swirling inside you. the memories of the love you once shared, the pain of his transformation into something unrecognisable, and the lingering attraction between you all crash together in this charged moment.

you try to pull your hand away, to regain control of the situation, but geto's grip tightens, preventing your escape. his face inches closer to yours, and despite your better judgement, your breath hitches. “manipulation, huh?” geto muses, his mouth so close to yours that you feel his breath faintly brush across your lips. you look up at him through your lowered eyelashes, and in that fleeting pause, so small that it’s almost imperceptible, you find yourself considering the gravity of your actions, if only for a moment.

the feeling of doubt is short lived, as you press your lips against geto’s, his mouth immediately moulding into yours. the kiss is searing, as you push your bodies against each other, he releases your hand from his grip, his hands move to cradle your head, holding it in place as he deepens the kiss, bruising your lips with his.

everything about geto is familiar, the taste of him, the warmth of his mouth, the way he consumes you. his tongue explores yours, wrestling for control as your arms scratch at him trying to tug off his robe. you wanted him to feel you, all of you—your touch, your lips, your hurt, your anger, the love that you still have that you thought was small. but after seeing him, kissing him, you realise is still an overwhelmingly large part of you.

you pull apart to catch your breath, staring hard at each other, but there’s barely a moment wasted before your back on eachother. kissing each other feverishly, as you rip off each other's clothes, he pushes you hard, your back slamming against the nearest piece of furniture as his mouth latches onto your neck. his kisses cascade down your body, stopping at your breasts as he unhooks your bra, tossing it aside.

“i missed these,” he murmurs, as his lips descend onto your tits, his face nuzzling at your chest as he sucks and pulls at your nipples with his teeth. “and i missed this,” he continues to mumble, his hands cupping your clothed pussy, his finger lightly caressing your slit. 

you arch forward into his touch, wanting to feel him more and chuckles saying, “even after all these years, you still respond to my touch just the same.” his fingers plunge into your panties, brushing against your clit and he smirks as your lips part a stifled moan escaping your lips—proving his point.

“s-shut up,” you hiss out, as you slowly start to gyrate against his fingers. although it was obvious from the way you were already soaking your underwear, you didn’t want to admit how good he is actually making you feel—you just couldn’t give him the satisfaction. geto raises his eyebrows at you in amusement, as he watches you bite your lip trying to contain your moans, as his fingers inch into your inviting pussy.

geto’s body moves down yours as he removes his lips from your tits, continues to press kisses down your stomach, as he drops down to his knees —his eyes level with your cunt. he presses a kiss to your covered pussy, before sliding off your panties. his mouth is just about to latch onto you but he pauses looking up at you, his gaze unwavering, “you want this right?” you nod slowly, your anticipation brewing as your eyes lock onto his, “use your words.”

you release an exasperated huff, but he remains steadfast, his raised eyebrow a silent declaration that he won't act until you tell him what he wants to hear. the room seems to pulse with tension, the growing desire between you mounting with each heartbeat.

your hands slide it’s way into his hair, pushing your fingers through his scalp, as you grin, you voice is low and sultry as you say, “i want it.” his mouth envelopes your pussy and you push his head into you deeper, forcing your nose into your arousal. he inhales you, taking in your scent as he presses his face in your cunt. 

“such a pretty pussy,” he mutters lowly, you could feel the vibrations spread through your pussy. his tongue strokes down your slit, before pushing into you, he twists and slurps at you trying to suck out all of your juices. 

geto nibbles at your clit, tugging at it with his teeth before bringing his fingers back to cunt. shoving two fingers in roughly. you pull his hair harshly, the feeling of his mouth sucking on your clit leaving your mind blank. “ah f-fuck,” you cry out, as geto’s strokes grow more intense.

“c’mon let me hear you more,” geto prompts, pulling away slightly from your pussy, his lips plump and coated from your wetness. he grabs one of your legs and hikes it over his shoulder, the angle allowing him to force his fingers into you further, curling them up in your pussy as he goes back to shoving his face in your sobbing cunt.

you grind your pussy in his face, working with him in getting you off. both of your movements were frantic, geto is eating your pussy with such eagerness, hungrily trying to drink all of your cum. “i’m close s-sugu i’m—” you choke out, feeling yourself slipping down the wall you pressed against, but geto holds you upright, his large hand keeping your thigh hooked over his shoulder and roughly pushing you up against the wall.

geto grins against your cunt, your moans and cries is a sound he didn’t realise how much he missed until he heard them now. you laboured breathing, stammered sentences told him that you were reading cum, but he just had to push you further. so he adds one more finger, sending it straight to your spot, twisting and pushing it in your pussy so hard that tears brim your eyes. he was so relentless, you always loved that about him, how he knows your body in and out, he knew exactly where to touch, and just how far he should push to have you becoming a mess for him.

you couldn’t take him anymore, so you cum, hard. your pussy releasing ropes and ropes of cum, all over geto’s fingers and his face, and he laps at it, munching all your cum with excitement. “i know you can give me more than that,” he muses, pressing his thumb down on your clit, rubbing at it aggressively as you cum. your eyes roll back, as he repeatedly flicks at your cum, and before you know it, you're squirting all over his face.

geto’s eyes widen, and he doesn’t stop playing with your pussy, until you bow your head in submission, worn out from all the cum you’ve released over him. your hands slide out of his hair, as you try and catch your breath and geto peppers your cunt and your thighs with kisses finally letting your thigh come off his shoulders. “damn your pussy’s still as sweet as ever.”

“stop with the talking,” you mumble, as you pull him up to his feet, your lips forcing their way back onto him. your hands frantically explore each other's bodies as you drag him to your bedroom, pushing him on your bed. “i can’t fucking stand you,” you mutter to yourself, your denial evident, as you straddle him, pulling his dick out of his boxers.

you pause briefly at the sight, his thick, long dick staring at you. you hear geto chuckle at your reaction, your eyes meet his with a challenging look exchanged between you, he raises his eyebrow at you, a silent dare on whether you’ll actually be able to get the control that you’re aiming to have. 

you hover over his dick, your pussy still dripping, geto bites his lip in anticipation as you tease him, slowly edging yourself down onto him. your pussy greedily, takes in his dick as you force yourself down on him as immediately fills you, stretching out your cunt with one push. you start to ride him, hard and fast, rocking your body forward as you bounce up and down on him, your hand pressing down on his stomach to keep you steady.

geto sits up, stifling a moan as he feels your cunt clench around his dick with everyone of your movements. he tries to thrust up into you, but he just can’t match the relentless rhythm you had, “f-fuck,” he exhales, a moan escaping his mouth, and you smirk —you have him just where you wanted him.

“you alright there suguru?” you mock, the grin spread across your face unmissable as you grind yourself down against him, tightening your pussy around his pole as you slid up and down. the bite on his lip hardens as he pulls it further between his teeth to suppress another moan.

but geto doesn’t submit for long, his hand slaps you across your tits and his fingers pinch your nipples, twisting and tugging them, causing you to arch your back as you wail. “d’you r-really think you run shit here?” he groans, flicking at your nipples with every word, “you’ll never be in control, not with me,” he taunts.

“oh really?” you retort, as you still continue to move your ass, meeting his hips. you can feel him start to pick up his pace, trying to match yours, his hips slightly thrusting upwards, his dick pushing into you deeper.

“yeah,” he says confidently through gritted teeth, one of his hands pulling away from your nipples and onto your ass, harshly grabbing one of your cheeks to steady himself as he drills into you further, “because you’re still my girl.” 

you still at his words, you knew he didn’t mean it but you couldn’t help but react to the name that he always used to refer to you as. geto could see your eyes become vacant, as you think back to the memories when you were truly his girl. you used to revel in that —the feeling of being his. he takes advantage of your pause, your rhythm halted as he takes over, now setting the pace as he charges his dick into you, stuffing you further. 

“suguru f-fuck you’re so—” you sob out, as he breaks down your wall, his strokes hitting your spot perfectly. your body buckles, crumbling at the force that geto was using as he repeatedly thrusts into you, his hand pushing you in further so his dick can get an even better angle in you.

“i’m so what?” he retorts, knowing you wouldn’t be able to string an answer together from the way he is fucking you dumb. geto couldn’t deny that he is getting some joy out seeing you all drunk on his dick, reduced to nothing but moans and incoherent sentences, he liked being the one to break you down. “am i still a monster, someone you can’t stand being around?”

you sloppily nod your head, trying to keep some resolve, but your efforts are pointless since all the insults and accusations you were spouting earlier are now futile, you lost your care in getting him to do the right thing, all you want now is for him to stay like this — inside of you. 

“s-shit i can’t take it a-anymore im gonna cu—” you force out, clenching yourself around little his dick hard as you feel your orgasm building up. but geto’s movements stop for a second as he pulls his dick out of you, flipping you over, your back landing hard on your bed. he leans over you, his focus fixed on you, but at this point, his eyes don’t hold the same heartache, and hurt that they did when he first stepped into your house. the geto that is looking at you now, is the one who’d always look at you everyday, ten years ago —with love and longing.

he strokes his dick down your aching pussy, teasing you with it, but just before he puts it in, his hand caresses your face cupping your chin as he says, “when i said you were still my girl, i meant it y’know?” and your lips part in surprise at his admission. “although it hurt me, when you left me, you just never stopped being my girl.”

“suguru i-i don’t know what to say,” you stammer, and you didn’t realise until he swipes under your eye, that you were crying. there was so much more to your relationship with geto than just some highschool romance, you loved another, and no one could tell you otherwise. 

“tell me that you are,” he prompts, now pressing kisses to your tear stained face, his lips moving down to yours, “tell me that you are still my girl,” he finishes in between kisses. his hopeful eyes still remain on yours, and you could feel him slowly inching his dick into you.

you wrap your legs around his back, your arms hooking around his neck as you pull his head next to yours, your mouth near his ear as you whisper, “i am still yours.” he pushes his dick back into you, his strokes deep and slow. it was different from before, there was no competition or hate between you as you fucked, you didn’t have a point to prove other than the fact that you still loved each other. 

geto’s moans are loud, he has nothing to hold back as he growls lowly in your ear. the way he holds you, and takes his time kisses you and fucking you as if he was accounting for this potentially being his last ever time doing so. “i’ll never get enough of this.”

“then don’t go,” you whine, and your words hold a deeper meaning that you both knew but won’t acknowledge knowing it is pointless to discuss any further. you pull him into you deeper, your thighs clenching around him as your hold tightens. 

the feeling of you pulling him in, has him clenching his eyes as your pussy takes him in, his mouth takes yours in a powerful kiss, before he mumbles “you gonna let me cum in you, leave you with every last bit of me.” you don’t even respond, just deepening the kiss, your head shaking in agreement.

you both cum together, geto spraying your walls as he sinks his face into the crook of your neck, sinking his teeth into your exposed flesh as he continues to shoot ropes of cum inside of you. you claw at his back as you feel all of him enter you, your cum mixing with his as you cry out in full pleasure.

his forehead rests against yours, as the last bits of his cum enter you and neither of you say anything, all that can be heard is just heavy breaths coming from the both of you. you didn’t know what was to happen now, there was still so much left unsaid, unresolved and things have changed now that geto is literally stuffed inside of you.

geto is about to pull out of you finally, but you stop him muttering a faint, “stay,” and he does. he knows he had somewhere to be, things to do that are bigger than the both of you, but he just couldn’t leave when you ask him to stay. he manoeuvres your body so that you now lay atop him, comfortably cockwarming him as he thumb brushes gentle strokes down your arm.

“y’know i’ve got these two girls, who i think would love you,” he muses.

“what? did you manage to become a father whilst i was away?” you tease.

“something like that, yeah,” he mumbles, a small smile forming on his face as thoughts of nanako and mimiko flash through his mind — they’re a bittersweet reminder of the new life he’s built without you, one that you wouldn’t be able to fit in. it wasn’t that long ago that you’d have thoughts about geto fathering your own kids, dreams of somewhat of a domestic life that you’d now never get to have with him.

“well maybe i can meet them,” you say non-committedly.

“yeah maybe…” his voice falters, as you both know that it would never happen.

“do you enjoy it then?” you ask, “this ‘new’ life of yours.” you could tell just by the brief mention of nanako and mimiko and the way he carries himself that he does enjoy his life, but you were hoping that he’d still answer no.

geto hesitates for a moment, his gaze drifting to the ceiling as he contemplates your question, “i…” he begins, his gaze returning to yours, “i won’t lie. it’s different, and there’s moments i find true solace in it, this has been my life for a long time now, so it’s just something i’ve really gotten used to.”

“and you’re happy to go back to it, after this?” your question is loaded, and you feel dumb for even asking but when you did call him over to get him to not go through with his plans, of course your motivations have slightly changed, but your goal is still the same. 

 “i don’t think you should ask me to make a choice, knowing that im not going to choose you,” he grits out, he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings, but 

“you’re not gonna win you know, satoru wouldn’t let it happen,” you couldn’t help yourself, the rejection he just gave you stung, and you wanted him to feel what you felt.

but geto doesn’t bite, he knows you’re hurting—that he’s the cause of it, so he lets you hurt, his hold tightening comfortably as you sulk in his arms. geto places a kiss on your temple, ignoring your comment as he concludes, “let’s just not, okay?”

geto stays with you until your breathing settles into a steady rhythm, and you don’t notice him slipping out of you. he cleans you up and tucks you into your bedsheets, giving you one final stare as if he’s trying to keep a mental image of how you look when he’s last seen you. his lips meet yours in a final, chaste kiss and he mutters a promise that he didn’t think you’d hear, but you do, stirring awake as his lips leave yours, “i’ll see you again… eventually.”

you wake up to an empty room, the warmth of geto's presence replaced by a stark emptiness. the realisation hits you like a wave of cold water – he's gone, leaving nothing behind but soiled sheets and a hollow ache in your chest. there's no note, no message, no trace of his ever being there, except for the lingering scent of him that clings to the air. you know that someone will eventually inform you of the outcome of the night, but deep down, you already suspect that his last promise to you will end up being broken.

AN: first like proper proper real juicy fic that ive written in a long time imo and its just like this took me so long since im soooo sensitive about my geto fics and im just like overly critical about my angsty and fluff and plot fics and my smut and JUST EVERYTHING but I managed to get it all done and I think some parts of this really hit hard. the ending is ofc bittersweet since if we go by canon, he goes and yuta beats his fuckinggg ass and he dies wtf but... the true ending is really up to your imagination. (not really) like dont even think about the ending just focus on the fact that they NEVER TELL EACHOTHER THAT THEY LOVE EACH OTHER BECAUSE UR SO IN LOVE THAT YOU ADMITTING THAT UR STILL 'HIS GIRL' IS ALL THE CONFIRMATION HE NEEDS. my finished an are sooo long why because I FUCKING CAN SO I HOPE YOU ENJOY, PLEASE LMK UR THOUGHTS AND SLAY ALL DAY also thank you @kazushawty and @biscuitsngravie for reading and supporting me 🥹🥹