#he's just a manchild that wants everything to go his way

[zeravmeta]

arc v is a story I think people always misunderstand and in part it comes down to the absurdly fumbled ending but even beforehand I think people misunderstand the point of egaoism cuz it's not really "never be sad idiot" but more "if you wear a smile, you'll feel courage and can go forward" which is the point all the way up to zarc who himself became spiteful and went insane trying to please everyone with "never be sad" ideology

yuya is deeply depressed and pessimistic and yet his aspirations to be a dueltainer (i like the dub name shut up) come not just from wanting to be like his father but in wanting to connect with others. jack himself says that yuya was only imitating his father without understanding what he himself wants because dueling is a conversation with your opponent and your audience, so if he is just parroting his father without understanding it, his dueling is meaningless. it is by design meaningless because it is not genuine to what yuya himself wants. It's why he moves on from just saying his performances out loud to an audience that doesn't care, but focuses on how pendulum is something he did not borrow from anyone else, his own voice. He uses pendulum as a way to connect with others by, as the summoning method works, combining everyone's voices, not just his own but that of his friends.

the ideas of bonds and connections extend throughout every yugioh series and with arc v the point of entertainment dueling and action duels being reijis "weapon" against academia ironically come from the fact that while solid vision can be a powerful weapon, duel monsters and dueling itself is just a game, a game people play to connect with others and make friends. yuya's whole focus on dueltaining is simply that he doesn't want to end this conflict with academia by just ruthlessly crushing his opponents and focusing on winning (which is what awakens zarc when reiji pushes him to do nothing but focus on winning), yuya wants to end the conflict by making people happy. he wants people to enjoy dueling for duelings sake and to see dueling as the game that it is, not use it as a weapon of war.

now, is this handled/conveyed perfectly throughout the series? I'll say no, because while yuya does make the effort and there IS notable pushback from his enemies, sometimes it wraps up a little too neatly, such as the city council disbanding suddenly or academias forces in heartland just giving up after like 4 duels (which is what lead to the whole egaoism meme in the first place). arc v has thematic inconsistency in how it presents its characters and yuya himself has been contentious for the longest time because he flip flops in this regard (even if the whole point of pendulum is that this dissonance will always exist by people coming into contact with other perspectives but grumble whatever its not handled perfectly here either),

BUT i would say it is followed through on up to the end of the zarc duel, because the whole point of zarc is that he was never able to take that step. he was never able to express his genuine wish to make people smile the way yuya could, which is why as the duel goes on you see zarc go from this overwhelming monster to an outright cowardly and scared person. his deck, design, everything about zarc ultimately shows him as a giant manchild who cant handle even a fraction of resistance against him because losing in and of itself (even if there would be no consequences) is the most terrifying thing to him. he's unable to win with any kind of courage. and yuya's friends, each passing the pendulum necklace between themselves, each telling yuya how his efforts pushed them all to improve as well, is what reaches him in the end. it was the culmination of their voices and how they all were willing to support yuya that reaches him, that yuya (and by extension zarc) are nowhere near being the unforgivable monsters they think they are

it's what zarc didnt understand, that he didnt need to always be happy or please an audience while ignoring his own struggles. zarc completely misunderstood how pendulum was born, because it was not his malice alone, but how it had dissonance with his heartfelt wish to make people happy as a duelist. yuya is the base personality born from his split because yuya is the embodiment of zarc's original wish, but yuya himself is never perfect either.

and yuya was okay with that. but zarc could never be.

[probably-a-plant-thing]

May or may not have caught a bit of Alt Skulk brainrot.

He just has a gay ol' time using despite people for his entertainment

[gaydogmarriage]

ppl are always depicting cyno in fanon as a comic relief annoying idiot partner to tighnari that cannot read the room and is always making him angry and yeah he doesn't have the best social skills and doesn't understand other people that well, but he knows that. and he also knows tighnari well enough to know that if he truly was annoyed with his behavior to the point of getting angry, he would shut that shit down real quick. he's not the type of person to just sit there and take it if he's genuinely bothered, i think. cyno's just putting himself out there without letting himself be paralyzed by his own shortcomings or insecurities, and it's pretty clear tighnari doesn't want him to repress himself either.

if anything, i can see tighnari being the one with an annoying habit in private that he has 0 self awareness about because he's so used to being the one dealing with other people's bullshit that he may not realize when he's the culprit for once, and cyno is too much of an unbothered king to say anything about it, and too madly in love to stay annoyed for long lol

[catboyolli]

*sigh*

[fridgrave2-0]

I'm tired of pretending that I'm okay with ford being an absolute asshole towards fiddleford and basically abusing him.

first of all, yes, it's not ford's fault that he was manipulated (doubtful tbh) and abused by bill, but that doesn't give him the right to be a jerk who closes his eyes on his friend's deepest traumas. the traumas fiddleford got only because stanford completely ignored his warning and got fidds involved into bunch of shit. like his monster hunting which wasn't even the reason fiddleford went to gravity falls in the first place. he was there to help ford build the portal, not to be a part of ford's anomaly quest. and when fiddleford spoke out against it he was ignored because ford doesn't give a shit about anyone else but himself or his muse. fiddleford got traumatized physically and mentally so deeply that in the need to be able to sleep at night peacefully he completely destroyed his mind to the state that even bill was scared to be in there. and what stanford did? he (the one who couldn't care less about fidds warning him about gremoblin) critiqued fiddleford for using the memory gun and didn't even bother to apologize or say that he's sorry in the journal. god, what am I saying, he didn't even took fiddleford to the hospital after fiddleford feel from the sky through the roof of a fucking barn with a dozen of poisonous quills in his body AND A BROKEN ARM. ford described what happened to fidds in the journal, said he "took him home for a treatment" and the next two paragraphs on the other page is "good news the hyperdrive works" LIKE IS THAT THE ONLY THING YOU CARE ABOUT WHAT THE HELL??? "despite our fortune, I have become worried about my assistant... I myself have survived many monster attacks without trauma, but perhaps F is more sensitive that I realized". no shit sherlock, who would've imagine that seeing your worst nightmares and being poisoned can leave a mark on your mental state. sure it's just fiddleford, he's just overreacting because he's "sensitive"))) /src

ford was ignoring fiddleford's concerns all the fucking time that mcgucket was there with him, he took a superstitious and religious guy with anxiety into the forest with real ass monsters who's no one but ford is used to see. fiddleford was warning stanford about shifty and got kidnapped with his identity stolen by the shapeshifter because ford didn't listen. well, at least this time stanford had bothered to apologize for another traumatic event- ah no, next thing ford said is that when the portal is finished all the traumas fiddleford had been through were "worth it". ford just finds ways to make everything worse

we all know that fiddleford has an addictive personality and that the memory gun is the biggest example of that. what we don't talk enough about is that ford at some point decided that sleeping is for losers, but didn't stop at himself and made fiddleford drink 13 fucking cups of coffee, not allowing him to sleep, what in the future made fiddleford a caffeine addict. ford is not only an overworking idiot who gladly damages his own health, no! he wants fiddleford to be the same and quote "gets frustrated" when fiddleford cares not only about his own, but their both basic needs. fiddleford had to work on the portal, get in the trouble with monsters because of ford, but also babysit this manchild to prevent him collapsing from exhaustion (which is more impossible than building a giant portal into the multiverse)

and here we are, the portal testing. once again (and as always) fiddleford did warned ford about everything. fiddleford was working without breaks for days to make sure if the portal will work, and when he found the flaws, he wrote a whole fucking thesis paper, putting all ford's research into a solid work (not taking even smallest credit even tho he was the one to build the portal. when fiddleford had his own theory in the university, ford helped him to only proof that fidds wasn't going crazy by checking the calculations and ford bothered to take the credit for the whole theory, but fiddleford who was a part and a victim of this monumental theory of weirdness didn't took it because he unlike ford doesn't care only about fame). but what did stanford do? he assumed that fiddleford wanted to steal his fucking fame and backstab him. ford didn't even bother to look at something fiddleford was making for three days without resting to make sure that portal won't hurt anyone in the town and that ford won't end up with empty hand if the portal was indeed a lost cause. stanford coldly dismissed fiddleford like they weren't friends, said that he doesn't really waiting fiddleford for the test of the device that fiddleford did built, and even knowing that the portal was dangerous fiddleford chose to come for the test

and then fiddleford got in the portal and it was the biggest traumatic event for him. it was the breaking point for him from which he couldn't stop using the memory gun. it damaged him so much, that he turned from that bright 30-y.o. man into the familiar to us old man mcgucket in the span of two years. his life was ruined for another 30 years, a half of his life he was a mad lonely guy who lived in the junkyard. the man who could've become someone like steve jobs but much better if only he didn't go to help stanford. his family could've been full, tate could have his father. the incident with the portal was the moment of no return for fiddleford, and what did stanford do?

when fiddleford got sucked in the portal, he thought only about the success of his work, that for fidds it was "a remarkable opportunity to confirm or deny the theory" (which he already did with his pre-test research). he didn't think that it was dangerous on the other side, that the portal wouldn't just disintegrate fidds on atoms. and when stanford saw him speaking in a non-human way, shaking and twitching in shock like fiddleford did after the gremoblin incident, ford decided it was nothing. when fiddleford warned him about the apocalypse because he was in the portal and saw it with his own eyes, ford, as always, didn't listen. he didn't just not care about fidds' condition — he diminished everything fiddleford was feeling and everything he witnessed only because it didn't fit in ford's believes which were based just on bill's words (and for stanford it's not something new to belittle things related to fiddleford. he wasn't taking fidds' dream of creating a portable computer seriously, believing that his weirdness theory was much more important)

and after this, stanford insults fiddleford and his family in the journal. he says that he doesn't regret their partnership (it's not really a partnership if stanford didn't count fiddleford as an equal) and friendship breaking up. "to think I considered him a friend!" I doubt he ever did. stanford doesn't know shit about being a good friend (or even a decent person) to someone who sacrificed everything for him. who did put his life aside to be with ford, who cared enough to stay despite stanford again and again putting him in danger, constantly waving him away and feeling no remorse for that. fiddleford was breaking himself for this guy, he canonically was going through "I am nobody to ford if I don't build stuff for him" (and in the end this is exactly what happened). fiddleford didn't tell ford most of his fears and concerns because he didn't want to bother him. fidds was constantly scared and kept in inside because he wanted to be a "better partner". "if I have an anxiety, I will pop anxiety pills", "I'm gonna get through this". and then he didn't

fiddleford was abused by stanford. he was to stanford that ford was to bill, in some ways even worse. it's fucking wild that fiddleford did forgive ford after 30 years of a neverending madness nightmare with his mind being destroyed so much as like it was the earth in the times of the dinosaurs after being hit by the meteorite. fiddleford had lost literally everything, he wasn't even himself for a half of his life and still fidds found the strength to forgive someone who is responsible for it and who used him with regular emotional neglect. and you know what? fuck this. ford would never forgive bill and fiddleford had every right to stay mad at stanford. ford needed to be stuck in the portal to get his head out of the ass and by that time there were only crumbs of someone who fiddleford once was

fiddauthor and billford both are about abuse and toxic relationships. it's up to you what you like to ship, but we need to acknowledge the fact that fiddauthor isn't some fluffy healthy thing where both are happy. fiddleford was never happy and stanford didn't care about fiddleford and his feelings. they made each other worse and ford ruined fidds' life. THIS is the real fiddauthor

[ericsprincess]

open the keys, open the mind

nc-17, Jeong Jaehyun/Reader, Na Jaemin/Reader, Jeong Jaehyun/Na Jaemin, step-sibling incest, Jaehyun and Jaemin are step-brothers, modern au, m/f/m threesome, vaginal sex, oral sex, cunnilingus, 

~~~

Your boyfriend brings you home for the first time. 

~~~

Oh damn, you curse in your head and congratulate yourself on this absolute catch, as your hand sneaks under Jaehyun’s cozy sweater and you discover that he has a set of very chiseled abs that he was until now successfully hiding under his cute hoodies and grandpa sweaters. You can’t resist running up his body with your hand almost up to his chest, savoring the feel of each hard separate muscle, feeling the divots between them and the warmth of his skin. He likes it, likes being touched and sighs into your mouth as you kiss and touch him and the sound of it makes you smile a little. His voice is so nice. He, in his entirety, is just so nice.  

You have him pressed against the door of his apartment, kissing him desperately with one hand on his neck, pulling him down, closer to you, and the other one wherever you can reach, while he is trying to blindly put the key into the keyhole to let you both in. He’s not even close to his target, just barely poking the door with each failed attempt, but neither of you pays much attention to it, despite the urgency you’re making out with - you both want more, both want to quickly get into the apartment, into Jaehyun’s bed where you can finally tear the clothes off each other, but neither is yet willing to take even a quick pause to unstick from the other to get an actual move on this. 

But the desperation is real though - you and Jaehyun have been dating casually for three months and just last week you have mutually decided that you like each other enough to make it official. And it made you really happy. Everything with Jaehyun is just so comfortable and easy. So much, it even feels too easy at times. At first you weren’t sure about it, you were afraid he would turn out to be a pushover, or worse, an indecisive manchild that will expect you to do all the work in the relationship, but he’s far from that. His assertiveness is quiet, his boundaries are firm and his opinions are always there, even if he doesn’t always feel like expressing them. So for the most part, he’s happy to let you decide about everything you want, simply taking pleasure in watching you getting your way, but ever so often he likes to surprise you with something of his own initiative - whether a date idea or an unexpected, very thoughtful gift, clearly remembering all of the drivel you’ve been flooding him with. Not only that, but despite him not being that much of a talker (unlike yourself), you always manage to find out something interesting about him. You’re always looking forward to getting to know every little random fact about him.  Which means you’ve been complementing each other very well so far - he’s not stifling your spirit, rather enhancing it. He makes your days brighter. And you hope that it’s mutual. 

So today, after your first real date as a couple, there is an event you’ve been both carefully skirting about and silently anticipating with somewhat unspoken agreement - it’s going to be the first time you’re going to have sex. Well, not technically, since, to your endless shame, your first meeting was a random (very) drunk hook up in a dirty club bathroom, where you let Jaehyun fingerbang you until you saw stars, while he was humping your thigh like a horny dog and cumming in his pants. You don’t remember much else from that evening, just that you somehow managed to exchange numbers and then the morning after you woke up with the worst hangover in your life and one unread message - “hey, it’s jaehyun. do you remember last night?”

At first you felt too embarrassed to reply, but hey - it’s not like he wasn't there with you, doing all those things together. So you replied and a day later you found yourself sitting in a cafe with a very handsome man whose oddly preppy clothes and calm demeanor would never hint on the fact that he would hook up with someone in a club bathroom. Or that he would even go to a club in the first place. But he was cute and funny and you were sold on him from the beginning. And when you blushingly suggested that if anyone asks, you should just say you met on Tinder (“like normal losers”), he laughed with his deep warm voice and when he nodded with a smile that had his dimples showing, you felt it in your heart. 

Which brings you here - into the poorly lit hallway in front of Jaehyun’s apartment when he’s finally managed to open the front door. You stumble inside together, laughing as Jaehyun is hastily trying to take the key out and close the door at the same time, but when you turn towards the living room, you both stop in your tracks at the unexpected sight. 

There on the sofa in front of the TV lies a young man, lazily splayed, with one hand in a bag of chips and the other scratching his belly. He looks up from the sofa as you interrupt, but his face shows only indifference. And he’s very handsome - with bleached blonde, almost platinum hair and a beautiful, doll-like face with big eyes. He seems to be younger than Jaehyun (a student, maybe?), dressed in just a t-shirt and sweatpants and looks like he’s at home, which is strange, since as far as you know, Jaehyun is supposed to live alone. 

“Hi,” the stranger greets, with a surprisingly deep-voiced drawl that does not match his pretty face at all. He smiles a second later, as if he’s suddenly remembered he’s supposed to do so, but it’s not a sincere or a warm smile, rather an oddly predatory one, full of teeth. It makes you almost nervous, despite nothing about him being outwardly hostile, not by a long shot. 

“Oh..hi?” you answer. “Who is that?” you whisper to Jaehyun, confused. You didn’t expect a visitor putting a damper on your plans. 

“I don’t know him,” mumbles Jaehyun, while scratching his nose. 

“I’m his brother,” drawls the man from the sofa, not bothering to get up to properly introduce himself. He does put away the bag of chips though and brushes off the crumbs off his t-shirt.  

“Stepbrother.”

“Same difference,” replies the stranger. 

An awkward silence falls onto the room. Nobody is saying anything. Jaehyun seems fully focused on an imaginary spot on the carpet and you don’t feel like it’s your place to speak up, since you’re the guest here. So you’re just kind of standing awkwardly, not entirely sure how the atmosphere suddenly got so tense. Why is it so tense even? you think. It’s just a brother. You don’t understand why Jaehyun is suddenly acting almost like a child caught stealing cookies. 

There should not be a reason for Jaehyun to be so awkward at the situation of his brother meeting his girlfriend. Ironically, the stranger on the sofa does not seem awkward at all. In fact, it’s almost as if he’s enjoying the weird atmosphere.  

He’s looking at the two of you with interrogative eyes and you know he’s already put two and two together. His older brother, Jaehyun, brought home a woman and the purpose of the visit is clear as a day, from the way you stumbled into the apartment, the way how your clothes are already a bit messed up and your lips are red from kissing. 

"Can I watch? There is nothing on TV right now," he asks suddenly, not bothering with any pretense. His unwavering smile is unsettling and you feel as if his eyes could see right through you and straight up read all your thoughts.  

“Just ignore him,” says Jaehyun, suddenly awakened from his thoughts, but looking very tired and grabbing you by your hand and pulling you along as he’s heading out of the living room. “Don’t bother us Jaemin, I mean it.” he throws over his shoulder, not waiting for Jaemin’s reply.

He pulls you into his (nice, tidy and clean, as you quickly take a notice) bedroom and closes the door behind you. He sighs and rubs his hand over his face. 

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t expect him to be here,” he apologizes. 

“Does he not live with you? He looked all cozy there,” you ask, confused. 

“No, thank god. He has summer vacations and knows how to pick a lock. He comes and goes whenever he likes and usually it’s not a problem. I guess I did not think about the possibility that he decides that today he likes my sofa more than our parents’ one,” he shakes his head. “Sorry for the surprise. We can postpone the…” Jaehyun vaguely waves his hand, still not quite able to put it into words “if you are not in the mood anymore. I can either drive you home or we can just chill,” he suggests. 

“Are you crazy? Our...plans…are still on,” you step closer to him, pulling him into your arms and kissing him softly. “There is nothing that could ruin the mood for me, not with how much I’ve been wanting you ever since the first time, you know?” you laugh into the kiss and he gently squeezes your waist, agreeing. You’re glad he’s also not being deterred by the unexpected company. “I’ve been thinking about this for weeks,” you admit. 

And you will not say it out loud but…the thought of Jaehyun’s hot baby brother possibly overhearing you two having sex sounds more appealing than it should.  

From then on it’s almost a whirlwind, Jaehyun quickly tears all the clothes off you and pushes you on the bed, letting you softly fall on your back. He takes off his shirt, but is way too impatient to deal with his trousers. His shirt hasn’t even landed on the floor and he’s already kneeling in front of the bed, spreading your legs and diving face first. 

He’s eating your pussy with laser focus, as if it were the only thing that mattered at that moment. And he’s clearly not new to this, he knows how to start slowly, how to entice and make you want more. It doesn’t seem like he will need any kind of guidance whatsoever, so you just lie down and enjoy the warm and wet feeling and the stimulation of his tongue and lips on you. 

But then, a few minutes into this, when you’re already warmed up enough and you can feel the arousal building, the bedroom door behind Jaehyun slowly and silently opens, revealing Jaemin, standing in the doorway. He doesn’t announce himself and makes no sound - just leans his shoulder on the doorway and watches. 

You gasp from the surprise, but you realize quickly you don’t want Jaehyun to find out, not yet. So you distract from your mistake by grabbing a fistful of his black hair, pushing you more into your pussy. And he likes that, he enjoys the pain of his hair being pulled, you can tell from a muffled moan he lets out and the way he squeezes your thighs, holding you firm and close to his face. 

A minute passes, with Jaehyun dutifully eating you out like a last meal, not knowing that you’re squirming so much not only because of his tongue getting you close to your orgasm, but also because of the way Jaemin is staring at you. Intense, contemplating, prying cold eyes cataloguing every reaction you make whenever Jaehyun changes the tempo or flickers his tongue just right. 

“Is he good?” asks Jaemin casually, as if he couldn't tell from the obvious way you’re enjoying yourself.

You can feel Jaehyun tense for a second, but he doesn’t stop doing what he’s doing. His eyes open and flicker up to take a quick look at you though. He doesn't need to check for your comfort, you’re not in distress, rather the opposite. The combination of Jaehyun’s skill, the unashamed voyeur and the fact that Jaehyun won’t stop despite knowing he’s being watched by his brother is so powerful, that you are coming almost immediately, holding on to Jaehyun’s head for dear life as you’re twisting in pleasure, that’s so strong you don’t even remember the last time you came like that. 

With Jaehyun’s help you slowly come down, and when your orgasm is finally done, you let his hair go. He straightens up, sitting on his heels in front of the bed. His hair is a mess, he’s blushing red up to his chest, sweaty, with his face wet and glistening from your juices. He’s still catching his breath. 

Jaemin moves from the doorway and sits on the bed right next to you. He looks at kneeling Jaehyun who looks up back at him. 

“Can I have a taste?” he whispers and leans forward, as if he were about to kiss him. Jaehyun flinches at the last moment, but he realizes he’s being fooled when Jaemin only licks him up the cheek playfully. “Tasty.” he winks back at you, smiling his shark smile again. 

Jaehyun looks at him questioningly, with one eyebrow raised. 

“There is still nothing on TV,” Jaemin shrugs, as if the explanation should have been obvious. 

Jaehyun stares at him, contemplating, and then at you. You can see the imaginary wheels spinning in his head, trying to sense out whether you’re ok with his brother being here. Whether he’s ok with his brother being here. 

“Y/N, what do you think?” he turns to you. Oh. He’s in.

You take a second to pretend you’re actually thinking, even though there is absolutely no need to. 

“What do I think? I think you should go kiss your brother,” you smile smugly, almost vibrating with anticipation of Jaehyun’s reaction.  

“Stepbrother,” he whispers, grabbing Jaemin roughly by his jaw and kissing him, pushing his tongue into Jaemin’s mouth immediately. It’s not like any of the kisses he’s ever shared with you. It’s a lot more aggressive, and you can see how Jaemin melts into it, immediately submitting to Jaehyun’s silent power. You realize you’re similar in this - both full of talk and attitude, but ultimately giving in to the stronger one. Maybe that’s why Jaehyun likes you. 

They kiss for a while for your enjoyment, Jaehyun keeping Jaemin firmly under his lead, but eventually letting the kiss become more gentle, almost sweet. It ends with a few cute sweet pecks that Jaehyun gives Jaemin, whose eyes are closed. He’s smiling a little. 

“I’ve been thinking about this for years,” Jaemin whispers, almost soundlessly, as they finally separate from each other, and you would laugh at the shared sentiment, except you find that you don’t really want to ruin the moment, But you really get it. It hasn’t been that long for you as for Jaemin, but it doesn’t surprise you in the slightest. 

Jaehyun reaches back to his jean pocket and takes out a little foil square. He hands the condom to Jaemin.

“Be good,” he says. It sounds both like a permission and a warning. 

Jaemin strips himself in a flash, revealing a bit of his impatience and youthful enthusiasm in an adorable way. One second he’s sitting clothed on a bed, the next he’s naked, settling between your legs while ripping the condom wrapper with his teeth. His body is beautiful. He’s a bit shorter than Jaehyun and he has less muscle too, but he’s not behind in beauty. Just different, younger, not yet having caught up to his older brother. They pose a nice contrast next to each other - gloomy-looking Jaehyun with his black hair and pale skin, the epitome of Snow White beauty, while Jaemin’s skin is golden, hair almost white and his smile is blinding. Handsome pair of brothers, even if not alike at all. 

“How does she usually like it?” Jaemin asks Jaehyun as he’s rolling the condom on. “Missionary? From behind?” 

But Jaehyun doesn’t answer, instead he looks at you, prompting you to answer by yourself. And of course, Jaemin is quick to catch on that, before you have the chance to reply. 

“Oh. You don’t know? Was this supposed to be the first time? And you let me have her before you do?” he scoffs. “Well, aren’t you the perfect boyfriend?” he grins at his brother. 

Jaehyun just nods in pretend solemnity. 

“Of course I am. And I take care of what’s mine. There will be many other times,” he replies.  

“Then missionary will be perfect,” decides Jaemin. “I want her to see me well. First time with a new boyfriend should be memorable.”

He doesn’t waste more time and pushes in. You’re still so wet and relaxed from your first orgasm that there is no resistance or discomfort at all. And you have already started to get aroused just from watching them kiss. 

Jaemin feels good, you barely had time to take a glimpse at his cock, but it feels adequate, filling you well and reaching all the right places. His tempo is fast from the start, no doubt thanks to him being too pent up already, but you can’t complain as he’s not being rough with you at all. Not only he fucks you well but also the sight from under him is stunning, as his skin breaks into sweat and glistens, his abs and biceps straining to hold him up. You bring your hands up to grope at his pecs, pull and pinch at his nipples to spur him more, to make him lose his mind. He’s trying to hold his moans back, but every sound he’s not able to contain sounds like music to your ears. 

In between being fucked very thoroughly and a sight for gods thats being provided to you, a crackling sound of metal zipper brings your attention back to your boyfriend. Jaehyun unzips his jeans and kicks them off together with his underwear, revealing his hard cock, big and pale with flushed red tip. He’s been hard for so long his precum is dripping in slow sticky drops on the floor. You can’t take your eyes off it and you have a hunch you’re not the only one. 

Jaehyun steps closer to the bed next to your head and you don’t wait to be asked. You open your mouth and let him feed you his cock, while you take one hand off Jaemin’s tits and put it on Jaehyun’s cock to suck him better. You savor the taste of his precome, licking it off the tip, letting it drip into your mouth. 

It feels like a bliss, being both used and serviced by two hot men, worse, brothers. You’re barely thinking as you’re just enjoying the taste and the presence of your boyfriend’s cock in your mouth and the cock of his brother in your pussy, getting you close to an orgasm. 

Your eyes are closed, but as you sense a movement next to your face you blink them opened. Jaemin is leaning forward, his face close to yours and he looks like he would be about to kiss you, were your mouth not full of Jaehyun’s cock. But you know what he’s after. You pull Jaehyun’s cock out of your mouth and offer it to him, letting him lick and suck it along, together with you. 

You glimpse up at Jaehyun, who’s been watching all of this unfold, as he immediately, reflexively grabs Jaemin’s hair and you see he looks conflicted whether he should pull him off or push him down to suck his dick more thoroughly. But he notices your eyes and you wink at him playfully and that’s what does it. He pushes Jaemin closer. 

Jaehyun, having made up his mind, is now unashamedly moaning, as he’s watching his girlfriend and brother suck his cock together, occasionally sharing a little kiss, tongues touching over him. He’s been close for such a long time and he has barely the mental presence to warn you before he’s cumming all over your face, Jaemin catching some of it in his mouth too. Jaehyun slowly pulls away, squeezing out the last drop into your open mouth and then Jaemin is kissing you full on, spitting Jaehyun’s cum into your mouth too and then licking it all back, all of that while he’s fucking into you, frenzied and wanting nothing else, just to finally cum. You embrace him with both of your hands, one sliding down to squeeze his ass to push it deeper into you and then you’re both coming at once. You feel him twitch inside you as he’s pumping the cum along with your pussy spasming and it feels like double the orgasm for you, and at that moment you’re truly like a one body.

~~~

You’re just about to fall asleep. The bed is so soft and comfortable and you have an armful of a young blond man already fast asleep, with head right on your boobs, the rest of his body wrapped around you tightly like an octopus. Jaemin seems to have taken a liking to you in a matter of hours and has no reservation about showing it. He already planned somewhere where he wants to take you for dinner, while you were idly chatting while waiting for Jaehyun. He refused to tell you where and he didn’t call it a date per se, but…The glint in his eyes was telling enough. 

The bed dips a little on your other side as Jaehyun comes back from his shower, smelling all nice and clean and lies down next to you. He reaches over to kiss Jaemin’s forehead and pet his hair gently, then he gives you a sweet good night kiss and turns off the light. 

And then you sleep. 

~~~

a/n: a wise woman once said “you can’t spell incest without nct”. 

[msmk11]

Heyyy, I just saw that you were taking requests for Tangerine x Readers, and I was wondering if you could write something like Tangerine and reader being fwb before the whole bullet train thingy, and she catches feelings but he's super distant (bro has serious attachment issues) so he pushes her away and is a bitchy manchild about it (LOTS AND LOTS OF ANGST but it has a fluffy ending) (smutty too if ur comfortable with it) ofc u can ignore this request if u don't want to, and I'd write it myself but I have zero motivation rn and I js wanna cry and then giggle😭🫶

And I Have To Live With It, For the Rest of My Life

Tangerine x fem!reader

WC: 3.4k

CW: HEAVY ANGST; slut shaming; booze/being drunk; fighting; cursing; lack of aftercare; mentions of sex; Tangerine is a HUGE asshole. Tiny fluff ending.

A/n: Hi love! Thanks for requesting! Sorry this took so long I just needed to find inspo. I’m also sorry for the lack of smut (and fluff tbh,) I just don’t take smut requests. As for fluff, I did want a “happy ending” but it felt cheap to try and go from ANGST to “everything is perfect again” in such few words. Maybe I’m just traumatized, but I have a hard time forgiving quickly lol and I think that shows here.

Everything was really, really good.

So of course you had to go and ruin it.

People say you can’t control matters of the heart and you think that it’s a load of bullcrap. Why not? Why couldn’t you have control over your heart?

And why did you have to catch feelings for Tangerine?

It isn’t part of the deal. Tangerine is a business partner. An acquaintance. A friend. A friend you occasionally fuck.

Your relationship with Tangerine was always supposed to be casual. No strings attached- business was simply business and fucking simply fucking. But then your heart got involved.

What’s one supposed to do?

Certainly not keep going back to the captor of one’s heart.

So of course that’s exactly what you do.

You’re laying in your hotel bed, completely naked, covers pooled around your waist. You and Tangerine just finished having sex and he’s already up and moving about, throwing on his clothes that had been discarded on the floor somewhere in your flurry of lust. Instead of saying anything, you just watch him in all his glory. You admire his tousled post-sex hair, curls askew, the way his back muscles ripple as he bends down to sweep his shirt up off the ground, and the way his fingers deftly button up his shirt.

“Got a meeting to head off to?” You ask casually.

Translation: Please don’t run off so soon if you don’t have to. Stay.

Tangerine’s eyes flit to yours briefly before he bends down to tie his shoes, “something like that.”

“Mhmm.”

You pull the covers up to your neck, suddenly feeling very vulnerable so bare and exposed to Tangerine who’s nearly fully dressed.

“You got a comb?” the brunette asks you gruffly as he straightens his suit jacket.

You nod towards the bathroom, “yeah, in there.”

He gives you no reply, only walking into the bathroom and shutting the door with a resounding thud.

Your stomach clenches painfully and your heart aches. The indifference with which Tangerine treats you hurts so badly. You’d rather him hate you then act like this. At least you’d know that he felt something, anything.

Is it too early for a drink?

The bathroom door opens again and Tangerine walks out, looking as though nothing ever happened. To him, nothing probably has. Nothing of consequence, at least.

“Well, I’m heading out. See you for our debrief tonight at nine.”

Tangerine begins to walk towards the door.

“Wait!” you call out.

You stop him just in time, his hand frozen on the handle. You swear he visibly tenses at your words, “what?”

“Could- could you at least get me a towel? Please?”

He doesn’t even look at you before nodding, “Yeah.”

He disappears into the bathroom for a moment before reappearing with a towel in hand. Tangerine, it seems, doesn’t even have the decency to walk the towel over to you. Instead, he tosses it across the room, almost hitting you in the face.

“Thanks.”

Shame pools in your stomach and you keep your gaze on the towel in your hands.

Tangerine grumbles a reply and then makes for the door so quickly that there’s no chance for you to say anything more.

Your heart sinks at the possibility that Tangerine might know you have feelings for him.

*****

You’ve already found a secluded spot in the hotel lounge and have a drink in hand when the twins appear downstairs. They take a seat across from you wordlessly and Tangerine lifts his hand in the air gracefully, motioning for a cocktail waitress to come take his order. Lemon and him order their drinks, and you ask for a second. It bothers you severely when you catch Tangerine winking at the waitress out of the corner of your eye.

You down the rest of your drink in one gulp and ignore how it burns your throat.

“Right, so the job’s done. When are we getting out of here?” Lemon asks tiredly.

“We,” Tangerine says, pointing between him and his brother, “are out of here first thing in the morning, “I’ve booked our tickets for a 5 am flight.”

“And her?��� Lemon responds, pointing to you.

Tangerine barely glances at you, but you can see his jaw tense, “the job’s done. Figured she’s a fucking big girl who can handle getting herself home. Isn’t that right, love?”

Condescension drips from Tangerine’s words and it makes your stomach drop. You refrain from saying what you really want to and instead assume a relaxed persona, “mhmm, always right you are. I arranged for my travel last night.”

You, luckily, weren’t lying, though you had ordered a car big enough for three. More room for you, you guess.

The waitress comes back with your drinks and you eagerly take yours. When she asks if you need anything else, you can tell that she’s really only talking to Tangerine. Still, you tell her yes, asking for a third drink.

Lemon eyes you, “you haven’t even touched your second drink and now you’re ordering a third?”

You shrug your shoulders nonchalantly and lean back in your chair, “I’ve got the money to spend on it now that we each just made what, nearly 12,000 pounds?”

Lemon smirks in celebration and holds out his drink to you, “cheers.”

You clink glasses but Tangerine doesn’t join in, a perpetual frown gracing his face.

“Ya really wanna get fucking sloshed before ya travel tomorrow?” the brunette suddenly chimes in- rather judgmentally, you might add.

“Who said anything about sloshed, Tangerine? I can hold more than you think.”

While your answer is confident, even combative, on the inside, your heart leaps into your throat and pounds desperately. You think you might explode.

“Still, ya certainly don’t have any self-control. Not over ya drinks, your mouth, and most importantly….” Tangerine’s eyes narrow at you, “not over ya emotions.”

Your heart sinks in your chest.

So Tangerine did know about your feelings. Worse? He’s being a right fucking prick about it too. There’s no emotional sensitivity, no respect for privacy, nothing. Serves you right for fucking a cold-blooded assassin.

Unfortunately for you, tears spring to your eyes despite the fury boiling in your stomach, “you wanna talk about control, Tangerine? Let’s talk about how you have so little control over your own feelings that you lash out at others and make them feel like shit, even your own brother, so that you feel better. Let’s talk about how you can’t keep your dick in your pants because you’d rather fuck anything that looks at you than deal with anything real. Let’s talk about how what’s happened between us has made you feel so out of control that you’re willing to go low enough to hash this out in fucking public. You’re a walking disaster, Tangerine, and I feel right fucking sorry for you, I really do.”

You stand up harshly and purposely knock his drink onto his expensive suit. You start to walk away and then turn back, batting your eyelashes innocently, “oh wait, should I get you a fucking towel to clean up? Or would you rather beg me for it?”

You don’t wait for a response and grab a dry towel off a random cleaning rack, throwing it right in his fucking face.

*****

Tangerine glares after you as you storm off.

“What the bloody fuck was that all about?” Lemon protests.

Tangerine ignores Lemon and instead curses loudly before chasing after you. He could not let you have the last fucking word. He catches you right in time, hand stopping the doors of the elevator you’re in.

You look up at him startled, and your shocked expression is quickly replaced with an angry one.

“What the fuck, Tangerine? Get out of here!”

“Ya don’t get to fucking talk to me like that and spill my drink all over me and then just walk away.”

“Why not,” you scoff, “you ran away as soon as you were done using me to jack off. It only seems fair.”

The elevator doors slide shut and the car begins to move upwards slowly.

“Yeah, well that’s usually what happens when ya casually fuck someone. But I don’t think ya have a casual bone in your body- always stomping around being a dramatic attention-whore.”

Tangerine watches your eyes narrow and jaw harden, “there’s a difference between being causal and being a huge dick, Tangerine. I should’ve known you’d be the latter.”

“And I should’ve known not to mess around with a fucking slut like you.”

Your eyes widen in shock and even Tangerine knows that he’s taken things a little too far. While your effort to fight back your tears is valiant, it’s fruitless, and they begin to stream down your face.

“Fuck you, Tangerine. You know, I never expected you to return my feelings, and I’m sorry I crossed a line by falling for you. Swear to fucking god I wish I didn’t. But you- you’ve just crossed an unforgivable line, and I never want to see you again. Have a fucking nice life.”

The elevator doors slide open and you scurry out. This time, Tangerine doesn’t follow you.

*****

After everything that happened with Tangerine on your last mission, you decided to take an indefinite hiatus from work and just focus on yourself.

One of your goals? Fuck your feelings for Tangerine out of you. So of course, you’d been spending a lot of nights out at the bars, seducing all the eligible bachelors of the city into your bed.

You hope that it’s working.

Tonight is no different from the rest- you dressed up in one of your sexy outfits sitting at the bar of some new local pub. You’ve already eyed a muscular blonde about your age from across the bar and motion for him to come over.

He complies and makes his way to you, a cocky smirk on his face.

“Hey gorgeous,” you tease, looking him up and down.

The man takes a seat next to you, “Hullo, love. What’s a pretty girl like you doing sitting at the bar all by herself?”

You shrug nonchalantly, “looking for a handsome man. Like you, I suppose.”

He cocks his eyebrow at you, “you suppose?”

“Always hard to tell in this type of lighting.”

The blonde bites his lip and eyes you, “I can promise you I’m handsome.”

“We’ll see.”

“I’m Matt,” he says, extending his hand.

You respond with your name and grasp his hand. You’re expecting a handshake, but instead he brings your knuckles to his lips and kisses them softly.

“Pleasure to meet you.”

Damn this man is smooth.

“Really, the pleasure is all mine, Matt,” you respond, trying not to appear too flustered.

“Can I get you a drink?”

“Yeah, sure. Surprise me though.”

Matt orders the two of you drinks and you take the time to ogle him. He’s perfect.

But not as per-

Nope.

No, you don’t have time to think about him.

Matt hands you the mysterious concoction and you eye him, “what is it?”

“Just drink,” he nods, “promise it’s good.”

You take a small sip and it’s sweet. It’s yummy, and you take another, larger sip.

“Oh shit, this is good.”

“Told you.”

“Can I know what it is now?”

“No way. Need to hold this above you so you keep coming back to me to ask for another.”

You chuckle and look down, “okay Mr. Smooth-Talker. That was pretty good.”

“I can do a lot more than that,” he says seductively. His hand slides out casually and finds a home on your thigh.

You inhale sharply in pleasant surprise and lean towards him, “oh really?”

Matt leans in towards you too, “yeah, like-“

Just as you’re about to kiss him you hear a loud shout.

“Hey, get your hands off her!”

You startle at the sound and turn to see who could possibly be yelling like a maniac inside this bar. You’re also curious to know who’s the one getting yelled at.

Your stomach drops when you realize that you’re the target. And the yeller?

Tangerine.

“Oh my fucking God,” you curse, resting your forehead in your hands.

Tangerine comes stalking towards you.

“Uh, who the fuck is that?” Matt asks warily.

“My ex….fuck-buddy? Friend-with-benefits? I don’t know, it was complicated. But a piece of shit- that’s what he is.”

“What the fuck are you doing, mate?” Tangerine yells at Matt when he approaches you two. His words slur together and you can tell he’s really, really drunk.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Matt says gruffly.

“I’m not the one getting handsy with someone else’s girl,” the brunette snarls.

You scoff loudly, “Your girl? That’s rich Tangerine. Last I recall I was just a slut you fucked.”

Tangerine’s expression softens just the slightest and you almost think you clock regret in his eyes.

“Look, mate, you’re drunk. So get your ass out of here before I hand it to you,” Matt threatens.

Tangerine is sent back into his rage and steps toward Matt menacingly, “you little fucking,”

“Okay,” you shout, stepping in between them and putting a hand on each of their chests, “that’s enough.”

“Tangerine, go. home,” you growl.

“Yeah fucking right I-“

“Just let me take him,” Matt interrupts.

You scan his tense body, “Look, I appreciate it, but you’re not gonna win. Tangerine here is, well, trained. And I don’t want anything to happen to your pretty face. I’ll take care of him.”

“But he’s definitely stronger than you,” Matt protests.

You side eye Tangerine, “he won’t hurt me.”

The blonde’s eyes narrow.

“Physically, at least.”

Matt finally sighs and steps back, “I’ll be waiting here for you.”

You send him a half smile and then turn to the brunette with a glare, “Let’s. Go.”

Then, you literally grab him by the ear and drag him outside the bar. Tangerine lets out a string of curses and tries to fight back a little before he finally gives up.

When you get outside you let go of his ear and shove him, “What the fuck was that, Tangerine?”

“I was trying to protect you from that git,” he slurs.

“Tangerine, you’re the git. You’re the one that hurt me. It’s you I need protection from.”

Tangerine’s tough guy facade crumbles right before your eyes into one of remorse. He suddenly looks years beyond his age and crumples down onto the sidewalk, back pressed to the wall.

You look down at him with disgust. His hair is all over the place, his clothes are a complete mess, and he reeks of booze.

“I’m calling Lemon.”

With shaky hands you dial his number.

He picks up rather quickly and you can hear the confusion in his voice when he answers, “uh, hello?”

“Lemon, come get your fucking brother.”

*****

Although Matt was everything you could’ve hoped for, your night was ruined after Tangerine left. Luckily, Matt was understanding, and you’d exchanged numbers to meet up another day.

When you’d gotten home from the bar, you’d broken down completely. All of the anger, betrayal, frustration and sadness that had been pent up within you for weeks burst forth like a raging storm. You’d sobbed and screamed and even pitched a picture frame of you, Tangerine, and Lemon across the room, shattering it. The broken glass was a problem for later-you, and you’d ended up falling asleep on your couch, still in your bar clothes.

Loud bangs are what startle you awake hours later, and you curse as you flail off the couch. You hit the floor with a thud and groan. Now, not only is your head pounding, but your back will be all beat up too.

The pounding on your door continues and you curse whoever is making a ruckus this early.

You yank the door open, “what the fuck do you want?”

The last person you expect to see is on the other side.

Tangerine.

“Fuck off,” you spit before swinging the door shut resoundly.

Except the door doesn’t close because Tangerine’s foot catches it.

“Fuck me,” he groans in pain.

The brunette shoves the door back open and you smirk, “that’s what you get for being in places you don’t belong. Now get the hell out of my apartment.”

“Wait, wait. Please, just give me a chance to talk to ya. And then, if ya want, you never have to fucking see my face again.”

You don’t reward him with a response and instead just walk away, sighing.

Tangerine takes this as an invitation and walks inside your apartment, letting the door shut gently behind him. You beeline straight to where you left off on the couch, paying him no mind.

The idiot must not be paying attention because you hear the crackle of glass beneath his shoes and a quiet curse.

Tangerine goes silent and you stiffen, listening closely. You hear the pings of shattered glass being sifted through and then his footsteps as he nears your spot on the couch.

“I forgot about this picture,” he rasps.

“Well you can fucking have it. I don’t want it anymore.”

“Can I- can I sit?”

You briefly glance over at Tangerine and look him up and down. You don’t respond, only nodding.

Though he, like you, is still in his clothes from last night, he looks ten times worse. The purple bags under his eyes are heavy and dark, his hair and mustache aren’t groomed, his button up is missing a few buttons, and his shoes are untied. Maybe it’s bad to say, but you revel in how miserable and pathetic he looks.

“You look fucking awful,” you remark, venom heavy in your tone.

“And ya look like you’ve been crying.”

“Well no shit, Tangerine. Sort of happens when someone you thought was your friend turns out to be a big fucking prick. “

He looks down at his feet and shuffles awkwardly, “I know. I’ve uh, that’s why I came here to talk to ya. To apologize.”

You scoff and look at him with disbelief, “okay now you want to apologize? Only when you’ve fucking hit rock bottom you wanna mend things?”

“Love, no I, I’ve been wanting to since that night in the fucking elevator I-“

“Don’t call me that,” you whisper angrily, lip wobbling in spite of yourself.

“I’m not your love, I’m not your friend, I’m not your anything anymore. We’re done Tangerine, this is over.”

It’s then that the boy you’ve known for almost five years does something you never would have imagined.

He grovels.

He literally gets on his knees before you and grabs your hands tightly, looking up at you with pleading eyes.

“Just listen to me for a second. Please. I want ya to know how fucking sorry I am. Not just for last night, but for everything. I’m sorry I called ya a slut. I’m sorry I was rude, and distant, and an asshole. I’m sorry for fucking you like some piece of meat and then just leaving you behind with no aftercare, no attention, nothing. I’m sorry for being a terrible friend and I’m sorry for not telling you that I love you sooner.”

Tears shine in Tangerine’s blue eyes and he chokes on his next words, “Christ, I love ya so fucking much. And I know I’ve gone and fucked things up now, and that it’s too late. And I have to accept every day for the rest of my life that it’s my fault. I have to live with that. And I will, even though it could kill me. But I don’t know what I would’ve done if I couldn’t tell ya at least once.”

Tangerine’s forehead falls to your knees and his body begins to shake in quiet sobs.

He inhales sharply through his nose, trying to hold back more tears, and looks up at you so sadly. “You’re the best girl out there, and you deserve the best. You deserve to find that with someone. Someone who isn’t me.”

Tears of your own begin to drip from your face and your heart throbs in your chest.

You reach out and cup Tangerine’s jaw so gently it’s as if he could crumble under your fingertips at any second.

“Tangerine,” you whisper.

You search his eyes for any sign of insincerity, of some sign that he’s going to break your heart again. But all you see is true, genuine adoration and vulnerability. Consciously or not, your heart returns to the hands of the one who holds and you pull him in, kissing him softly.

The kiss is sloppy, and salty and wet, but you don’t care, because every peck and sigh and bite is punctuated by what you both know- I love you. I love you. I love you.

[giorno-plays-piano]

Proposal | Gojo, Nanami, Sukuna

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x reader, Kento Nanami x reader, Sukuna Ryomen x reader

Warnings: fluff, some cursing, a little yandere-ish Sukuna, mention of pregnancy

Satoru knows everything about you, including the way you drink your coffee: he generously adds cream and that fancy caramel syrop he bought for the occasion in the cup he prepared for you, giggling like a child. He feels really proud about making his proposal so creative and unusual. Proposing with a cup! Isn't it sweet?

It's hard to keep a straight face when he hands you your coffee, but Satoru is trying so much, leaving a tender kiss on your temple as you smile. Then you're softly tugging him by the collar to make your shamelessly tall boyfriend bend down and give you a real kiss, and he complies without a word. He really knows everything about you, and yet, every single moment you spend together feels like a gift.

As he sits opposite you, devouring warm waffles you made him a couple of minutes ago, he does his best not to shift nervously in his seat. All his thoughts are about the face you'll make once you see the bottom of the cup. If Geto ever asked him about it, Gojo would always reply with the exasperated sigh that you'd accept. He loves you. He knows you love him, too, even if sometimes he turns into a literal manchild with a penchant for drama. But he's caring, soft-hearted, and ready to walk alongside you for the rest of your lives because he can't imagine spending it with anyone else. There's nothing he wouldn't give you.

It feels like you've been together for eternity, but it hasn't even been that long. He just... doesn't want to delay it anymore. What for? He knows he wants to see you in a wedding dress, walking down the aisle and smiling at him, shining in all beauty. Surely, you want the same?

The minute he sees your face changing, Satoru is jumping off his seat, hands shaking a little. You have just finished your coffee. You are now staring at "Will you marry me?" written beautifully at the bottom of the cup with googly eyes, blinking away tears.

The second you turn your head to him, he's already on one knee with a beautiful engagement ring he spent several weeks searching for, dragging Shoko to every decent jewelry store he spotted for "moral support".

You say yes before you even register what's happening, hugging the cup close to your chest like it's your greatest treasure.

Kento Nanami is not a nervous man by a mile, and yet he finds himself furrowing his brows as he pours down your favorite green tea in the new cup he secretly got you, mulling over the fact you might not find his proposal adequate. Wasn't it better to do it the old-fashioned way? Book a nice restaurant, buy you a huge bouquet of red roses, propose like any other decent man on his knee with a fancy ring...

"But it's really getting old," Shoko enlighted him as she handed him a perfectly normal cup in a box, tapping it with her slender finger. "Look, haven't you heard how Gojo proposed to his wife?"

Then Nanami sat there like a fool and listened to that story, questioning himself if the old-fashioned proposal was really the right way to go about it. You did joke he reminded you of an old man sometimes, and he certainly didn't want you to think that when he'd be proposing.

He still wonders how Shoko managed to change his mind in a heartbeat, but what's done is done. You are setting down the table while he is pouring green tea right into that famous cup, knowing you will see its bottom the second you take the cup into your hands.

Kento Nanami realizes he is sweating profusely, the red velvet box with your engagement ring burning a hole through the pocket of his dress pants. Are you going to say yes? There is't a day he was unsure of your feelings, but he can't help feeling a little self-conscious today. You didn't date long, to be fair, and yet he was convinced you were going to be his wife the second time he saw you. It was that simple.

He likes everything about you, regardless of how cringy it sounds when he tries to put it into words. The way you smile at him every morning after waking up, and how you look when you're packing him lunch before he leaves for work, and how your face lights up when he comes back, tired but happy to find you in his home. He is seriously thinking of changing his god-awful corporate job just to spend more time with you because you make him realize how precious the time you share together is. Marrying you is only logical when every moment he spends away from you, he thinks of coming back and having you pressed tightly against his chest.

Do you feel the same way?

He knows you do when you turn to him, smiling so wide it almost hurts, and he's on his knee before you can say a word. The next second, he is putting the ring on your finger and kissing your knuckles as you say yes, laughing, tears streaming down your cheeks.

Sukuna had never planned to propose. Hell no. Him? Marrying some woman? Whoever even joked about it was going to get their ass kicked. He never even cared for serious relationships, much less marriage that was akin shackling himself for some girl's advantage.

No, Sukuna is never going to get married.

And yet, he is standing in the kitchen in nothing but his gray sweats, holding this stupid cup with its stupid "Will you marry me?" all over its damn bottom. He wants to say he hates it, break it, and throw away the fragments before your eyes land on it, but he also sort of... doesn't.

He does want you to stay. Not like his girlfriend who comes and goes, but like... like someone who doesn't leave. Not now, not ever. Sure, he isn't stupid to believe marriages are binding people forever like they were half a century ago - Sukuna thinks it's a shame, really - but he knows you wouldn't leave. Not with a ring on your finger and his child in your tummy. But both things need work, and thus he is now standing in the middle of a kitchen like a fool, dumbly pouring you coffee in that fucking cup that's supposed to help him propose.

What a fucking pain.

"Can you give me my cup, please?" You ask, hurriedly putting his sandwiches in a lunch box for him to eat at work, and Sukuna nearly splashes coffee all over himself.

"Oi, can't you wait one more minute, woman?!" He yells, enraged he almost dropped the dumb cup and ruined the whole thing, and you immediately send him a death glare.

No, meek little girls wouldn't survive a day with Sukuna. You, on the other hand, are ready to fight him at any given moment, which is precisely what you are going to do now.

"I'm only asking for a cup of coffee, not a dry martini with a lemon twist!" You retort, furious at his attitude, and Sukuna does his best not to throw the kettle in the sink, instead shoving the cup into your manicured hands and turning away as quickly as he can.

This is going so wrong. Why can't he be at least a little more patient? It's his goddamn proposal, and he's fucking it up right from the start.

"You forgot to add sugar," you add dryly, and he thinks he's going to explode.

"JUST DRINK THE DAMN COFFEE, WOMAN!"

Maybe it could have scared anyone else, but you are a woman bending aluminum spoons with your stare, and Sukuna's outbursts aren't scaring you. Instead, you scream at him with the same intensity, "WHY SHOULD I DRINK THIS NASTY COFFEE?"

Sukuna is now fully turned to you, his face contorting in anger, "BECAUSE I CAN'T PROPOSE TO YOU WITHOUT IT!"

He realizes what he just said a second too late, slapping himself in disbelief as you're staring at him wide-eyed across the kitchen. What a fucking moron. He should've just proposed in a restaurant or some shit. How was he going to do the right thing now?

But you finish your coffee in two big gulps and then stare at the bottom of the cup with a dumbfounded expression like you never in a million years expected him to propose. Your eyebrows are so high on your forehead it almost looks comical.

"Are you for r-"

"Yes," he cuts you off impatiently, and you see, he really is nervous. "So, what? Are you going to marry me or not?"

He's going the wrong way about it from start to finish, and yet, it doesn't deter you as you nod, unable to utter a word. He has finally managed to leave you speechless.

Nice, Sukuna thinks before he draws you to him, giving you a heated kiss before you have the time to ask him why the hell couldn't he propose normally. Then he says, "Your dress fitting is on Tuesday. I'll text you the address."

"SUKUNA, WHAT THE FUCK?!"

________

Tags: @minshookie29

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

No Nut November - Slash

A/n: This is my personal favourite but that might just be because Slash is my favourite, him and duff... might have to write something with the both of them...

Warnings: Smut, no nut November, oral sex(f receiving), fingering(f receiving), cum eating, slight breeding kink??, if you think I missed anything please let me know otherwise enjoy the final part to this short series :3

Intro

To be honest, he had no idea what the bet was. He tuned everything out and didn’t think twice about it. Axl called him later and told him no fucking before Steven. That made no sense to him and he just went home to go about his time.

When he got home he tried to explain it to you over dinner. Which was hard when he didn’t know what he was talking about in the first place. He managed to get the point across about not having sex for the month of November, you were upset but given the circumstances let it pass. You didn’t want to be missing out on a whole month of sex, however something you hadn’t thought about until the next.

You were downstairs making breakfast, as per usual because your manchild doesn’t know how to cook. Frankly you don’t want him to try, you like your house nice and not burn down. You were getting the plates set up when you remembered you had to go out of town for a family thing.

You rushed upstairs to your shared bedroom and found Slash stretched out over the bed. You gently shook him awake and told him about it. “So even if we wanted to do something we couldn’t!” You exclaimed. Slash stared at you blankly, clearly not awake.

“Alright.” He mumbled and face planted into his pillow. You smiled at him, brushing his hair out of the way and giving him a kiss on his forehead.

“Breakfast is ready, by the way.” He groaned.

You went about your day as you usually did, taking some time to pack your bags. You crawled into bed with Slash and he curled up nice and tight to you for a last night together before you left in the morning, likely before he’d wake up for breakfast.

Since you weren’t home for the majority of the month this challenge was easy for you. Slash called whining about it to you more than once but nothing ever actually happened, more often than not one of you would end up talking the other to sleep which was more than welcomed.

When you got back it was between him and Izzy but that was quick to end. Slash came home tired and hugged you from behind while you were cooking. “Izzy’s out.” He mumbled into the crook of your neck.

“Oh, yeah?” You responded. “That means you’re the only one left, right?” Slash was silent for a moment as he thought about it. In the end he never did give you an answer.

Slash dropped to his knees behind you and pulled your pants down. “When the fuck did you get these?” You looked down at him, cheeks red and brows raised in confusion. Slash shook his head and tore your panties off of you before forcefully spreading your legs and licking your flushed cunt.

You abandoned your cooking, turning the stove off while you could as Slash’s tongue worked tirelessly between your folds. You gasped at the feeling, holding onto the counter as he held you down on his face. He sucked your clit and dipped his tongue into you, eating you up so deliciously you could’ve cum right then and there.

Slash pulled back and stood up behind you, harshly bringing you to the island behind you so he could bend you over it. He pulled himself out of his jeans and gave his cock a few strokes as he stared down at your ass. “Been waiting too long for this.” He gleamed in that soft, raspy voice of his before pushing himself all the way into you.

He groaned loudly behind you while you let out a high pitched whine against the cold marble under you. He didn’t waste a single moment before pounding into you, gripping your hips with a bruising hold.

Oftentimes Slash wasn’t quiet, especially when he was needy or pent up and right now he was both. The house filled with echoed sounds of skin slapping on slick skin, your whines and Slash’s grunts and moans.

Your body bounced up and down the island surface with every thrust. Slash couldn’t take his eyes off of where your bodies met, where he disappeared into you before pulling out and pushing back in. He watched in pure amazement as you took him all in with ease.

“Slash! Slash, ‘m gonna-gonna cum!” You whined, hands twitching as your body quickly lost control of itself.

“Fuck, me too, ‘m gonna cum inside.” He said and with a few more thrusts he sent you over the edge. Your body quivered as you squirt on his dick. Slash followed you over and came inside you, coating your gummy walls in a thick layer of his seed just as he said he would.

Of course he didn’t even think to give you a moment to recuperate. He pulled you up and spun you around to face him, crashing his plump lips against yours. You could still taste yourself on his tongue as it danced with yours, saliva mixing together and dribbling down your chin in his haste to feel good.

He groped your body, ass, chest, whatever he could reach. He pulled you tight to him and tugged on your skin, slapping your ass and shoving a finger or two into you just to make you squirm. He hoisted you up onto the counter, lined himself up and slid into you, getting into a rhythm and hitting that spot in you that had you seeing stars.

Fuck, you loved the way he made you feel. His mouth never left you as he rut into you like a dog, desperate for release once more. He was a whining mess as he got closer, in turn bringing you closer as well.

You moaned loudly in his ear while he sucked on the sensitive skin of your neck. One of his hands was buried in your hair, tugging on it gently, while the other went to rub your clit, overstimulating you a bit.

You gripped his shoulders. Your nails dug into his back and without warning he came in you again. He paused for a moment, cock still stuffed deep inside of you as he processed what just happened. Once he had, at least mostly, he continued fucking you. He’d lost any sense of rhythm and you were sure he was overstimulating himself at this point so you gently pushed him back.

“‘M ok, Slash, don’t have to keep going.” You assured, though you weren’t thrilled with the idea. Slash stopped again and pulled out and went back on his knees. His lips suctioned to yours as he ate you once more, though now he was licking his own cum out of you. He didn’t seem to care, all his mind was set on was making you cum and when his lips latched onto your clit and sucked, his tongue swirling around it while he looked up at you with the sweetest puppy eyes you couldn’t help it.

You squirted on his face, your cum mixing with his as it hit his chin, getting in his mouth. He didn’t pull away until he was sure you were done.

He stood up and wrapped his arms around you, burying his sticky face in the crook of your neck. He pulled you off the counter but your legs were shaking so bad you couldn’t hold yourself up. Slash wasn’t in much better condition and slowly lowered the both of you to the ground so he could hold you properly.

[disasterofastory]

Behind the walls (Brahms Heelshire x Reader)

Behind the walls // Brahms Heelshire Masterlist Brahms Heelshire x Reader Kinktober 2023 - 11/14 Warnings: a bit of angst, bath sex

Summary: After an argument, you go and search for Brahms.

A/N: I'm sorry, I'm late again with this part, but I will post the next chapter too in a minute. Enjoy!

The house is quiet and still. Everything you do sounds louder than it should. Even your thoughts. Guilt and worry still eat at your mind, mixing with the remaining anger bubbling in your chest. You can hear your heated conversation with Brahms again and again until you start to go insane. Your eyes scan the walls of your room, finding every hole and crack on the wooden surface. He is not here. You know it.

Arguing with Brahms Heelshire is unavoidable since you spend more time with him than without him. And he is stubborn, demanding, and clingy. And he loves you in his own way; you are sure of that, but his love can be suffocating when you barely have access to the real world outside of the manor. You need to breathe. And he needs to understand that.

The sun is already setting when you have enough of the silence. You haven't seen Brahms since breakfast. You wandered around the house all day like a damn ghost, listening and trying to find that manchild who decides to hide every time he doesn't get what he wants. New-found anger awakes in your chest, but you decide to push it down. Another fight will lead you nowhere with him.

"Brahms?" You break the silence. Your voice is hoarse from being quiet all day. "Brahms? Can you come out? Are you here?"

When you don't get an answer even after half an hour, you decide to take the next step. And you hate yourself for it. Even though Brahms is still prone to spend a lot of his time behind the walls, you never thought about following him and exploring what the manor still has to offer. On one hand, you thought of it as Brahms's safe place, and on the other, you were terrified of it. "Please, Brahms," you speak up again with a slight begging in your tone. The mirror on the wall slowly creaks as you open the secret door behind it. "I really don't want to go and search for you in there." For a few seconds, you stay still and try to listen, hoping you will hear his steps approaching, but your ears meet with silence. "Fuck," you grunt, grimacing.

Being behind the walls of the manor is just as horrible as you imagined but not as dark because of the dim light filtering through the holes and gaps. The ground creaks under your steps, and everything is dusty and old. And not even a few turns later, you aren't even sure where you are anymore. "Brahms?" You call him again. "Please, come here." The tight place makes you sick and dizzy. You don't like it. Your heart thuds in your chest, wanting to jump out of your body and leave this place. "Please," you try again. "Brahms, I really need you now." Tears gather in your eyes as you fight with the tightness of your throat. Your legs shake under your weight, and your nails dig into the wood here and there as you try to make yourself move forward.

It was a bad idea. A horrible idea. And still, your heart breaks even more each second you spend behind the walls, and Brahms doesn't come to your rescue. Maybe he doesn't care for you that much after all.

A loud and sharp shriek bursts out of your lips when someone grabs your arms from behind. Your heart jumps up into your throat, and you are sure you will faint any second now. Tears escape from the corners of your eyes, running down your heated cheeks.

"Please!" You beg even though you don't know why. "Please!" Strong, muscular arms curl around your body from behind, keeping you together when you are afraid you will wall apart. "Shh," the man hums into your ears. His breath is warm. "Sh." "Brahms," you choke. "It's me, Y/N," Brahms replies, holding you close against his chest. "You are safe, Y/N. I'm here. I will protect you." You can do anything but sob in his arms as you try to calm yourself. Your hands hold onto his arms in front of your chest. His hug grounds you until you can breathe again. "Do you want to go out?" He asks quietly, kissing the curve of your neck every now and again. First, you want to scream yes, but deep down, you know if you leave now, you will be always afraid of what lurks behind the walls beside Brahms. "No," you shake your head. "Just don't leave me." "Never," he says. His chest is filled with satisfaction at your request. You need him. You want him to never leave you. He can do that. "I can show you my room," he says. "If you want." Your stomach twists at the thought of him having a room here. "Okay," you nod. "Show me."

Brahms leads you through the house, holding you close the whole time, and you cling to him without a second thought. He can't help but feel pride as you grip his hand and arm. It's a change in your relationship, and both of you notice it even though none of you say it out loud. Usually, you are the more dominant one who always knows what to do or say, while he just enjoys being under your care.

"If you look out here," Brahms points at a small hole. "You can see the kitchen."

He wants you to get more familiar with this place. With his place. He thinks if you know your way around better, you will be less afraid even if you never come back here.

"I can't believe you lived here almost your whole life," you tell him, shuddering. Brahms isn't hurt by your words. He can hear the heartache in your words, even though he doesn't entirely understand why. These narrow corridors, dim lights, and the darkness that follows them mean safety and comfort to him. "It's not so bad," he says awkwardly, but when he sees your expression as you look around his room, well, what he calls his room, he knows in your eyes, it's much worse. "Oh, Brahms." You don't want to show pity, but his name falls out of your name before you can stop it. You know he doesn't need you to feel sorry or sad for him. This small space with old furniture and even older dust is his home. It's everything he knows.

Tearing your eyes away from the small bed, you look at him. "Promise me." Brahms frowns. "Promise what?" "Promise me that one day, when you feel ready, you will come with me and see the world." You know it's not so easy, but you have to hope and plan that it will happen someday. You know Brahms is not like other men. He has his demons, fears, and the way he sees the world. He can be dangerous, bratty, and demanding. You are not even sure how he would react outside of the manor. But seeing that you are still with him and never plan to leave him, you are not normal either, and maybe you can help him with his fights. "I promise," he says after a few tense seconds. Maybe it's a promise he can't keep, but he can try. For you.

He holds you in his arms tightly, inhaling your scent as he pushes his face to the crook of your neck. Even though he doesn't entirely understand your pity or sadness, he knows it comes from care and love, and this is what Brahms wanted all his life. "Do you want to go out?" He asks. "You don't have to stay here." "Please." Your reply is muffled by his shirt. You cling to him tighter, and he picks you up in his arms easily.

He can feel your body relaxing against his when the secret door closes behind you. Your arms are still around his neck while he holds you up by your bottom. "I love you," he hums, sitting down on the edge of the bed with you in his lap. "I love you so much." Leaning back a bit, you cradle his face in your hands. "I love you too, baby." He only notices how pale you were the whole time when the color starts to come back to your face. And still, despite everything, you came after him behind the walls to get to know him better. "Do you want to take a bath?" He asks, squeezing your hips. You are dusty and dirty. "With you," you tell him, and his heart flutters. "Whatever you want."

You work together as you get ready for the bath. None of you remember your argument anymore. You take care of the water while Brahms fetches your pajamas and clean towels. "Climb in first," you tell him as you get rid of your clothes. After he adjusts himself, you climb in after him. Your legs are pressed between the wall of the bathtub and his thick thighs. "Are you okay?" You ask him. "I can move away." You would hate to do it, though. "No," he grunts, already feeling himself getting hard under you. Your soft flesh is above his length, and your tits are in front of his face. Your nipples are already hard peaks, begging for his mouth.

To distract himself, Brahms grabs the soap and starts to wash you. He cups the water in his hands, pouring it on your body to soak and warm you up while you sit limp on his lap. Your arms stay around his neck while your head rests on his broad shoulder. Your fingers play with his hair at the nape of his neck. He rubs and massages your back as much as he can from this position. His thumb glides over the line of your spine before moving back to draw circles on your shoulder blades.

"Y/N?" Brahms asks after a while. His sudden voice sounds too loud in the quiet room. "Hm?" "Oh, I thought you fell asleep," he says, moving his large hands up and down on your back. "No," you murmur "I'm just enjoying the moment." "Does it feel good?" He asks. "Yeah," you sigh, pushing yourself away from the man between your thighs before you really fall asleep on him. "Thank you." He forces a soft smile onto his face before his lips open with a sharp exhale. Your fingers rake through the hair on his upper body. His stomach clenches under your soft touch. "Y/N," Brahms says. "We don't have to…" He knows you feel his length pressing against your folds. "I know," you tell him, brushing one of his nipples with your thumb. "But I want you, Brahms. I want you as close as possible." He grunts through his closed lips. His eyes are wide and interested as he watches you caressing his chest. He has to force himself to stay still and not to buck up against your pussy.

Suddenly, the air gets steamy and heavy around you. Your hands slip up to his hair, caressing and washing the wet, dark curls sticking to his temple.

He lets you play and explore him for a while, even though he knows you know him well enough by now. Your hands smooth up on his arms, slipping over his shoulders until you cradle his face. Your thumb traces the thickest line left by the fire years ago. Brahms still barely believes that you not only want to see him but also want to touch, caress, and kiss him too. His heart flutters every time you do it.

His eyes stray down from your relaxed expression to your chest. The soft skin of your breasts shines under the light of the bathroom, and they are slippery as he lets his hands wander away from your hips. He let his fingers smooth over the underside of your tits, following their soft curve before opening his palms to knead your flesh. His thumbs tease and rub over your nipples. "Brahms," you mewl his name, grabbing onto his neck to pull him down to your chest. Your back arches to give him more space as his lips latch onto your nipple. His tongue flicks over the sensitive bud repeatedly. He can feel the bitter taste of the soap on the tip of his tongue, but he doesn't care about it. He sucks even more of your breast into his mouth, letting his teeth graze over your skin. You gasp when he tugs on your nipple, soothing it with his tongue afterward.

One of your hands is under the water between your bodies. The surface of the water ripples with every move you make between your legs. Your fingers slide through your folds to your entrance, brushing over his length in the process. The water and your juices help you finger yourself effortlessly.

"I can't wait any longer," you break the silence with an impatient edge in your voice. Your insides quiver with anticipation, and your pussy flutters around nothing when you pull out your fingers in favor of grabbing Brahms's erection. You stroke up and down on his shaft a few times before adjusting the tip of his cock to your entrance.

Your mouth falls open with a silent cry when you start to skin down on his cock. His girth stretches you out, filling your hole inch by inch. "Fuck," you groan when Brahms pinches your nipple again. You envelop him in your tight warmth to the point he can't even think. White, hot pleasure flares through his body while you sink lower and lower on him. You whimper and moan, wanting more and more of him even after you accept him fully, and he can't go any deeper. Your nails dig into the skin of his shoulders, and he can't help but hiss with your nipple still between his teeth. "Brahms." You barely sound like a human anymore. Tears gather in your eyes from the desperation thudding in your ribcage. "I got you," he whispers, sliding his hand to your hips. "Do not worry, love. I'm here." Adjusting his legs against the bottom of the bathtub, he starts to rock his hips upward, grinding his cock in your pussy. He rubs against every sweet spot and sensitive nerve you have, keeping you steady above him as you still hold onto him until his skin is red because of your nails. He hisses and grunts at the pain but pushes into you deeper. Your walls flutter around his shaft, trying to accept everything he can give you. His movements are barely noticeable because of the small space of the bathtub, but none of you care about it. You wheeze and moan in his old, pressing your chest against his as he bounces you on his lap in sync with his thrusts. "Fuck, Brahms," you gasp. "I'm- I'm gonna-" "It's okay," he grunts. His warm breath fans over the side of your face. The line of his jaw is hard as he clenches his teeth together to keep himself from cumming. He wants to feel your sweet cunt pulsing and cumming around him first. He wants your pussy to milk his cock, begging for his release.

The water splashes all over the room, soaking the small carpet in front of the bathtub. The air is steamy and smells like honey and something else, mixing with Brahms's own spicy soaps and shampoo. Your skin is soft, warm, and slippery under the man's hands as he still uses your body to grind you on his erection. He jerks and twitches inside you. His balls are heavy with the need to shoot inside you, plastering your walls.

"Cum for me, Y/N," he hisses, reaching down between your bodies to find your clit with his thumb. "Cream my cock, love, let me have it all." He is surprised he can from words with the mush in his head that was his brain once.

Your mouth drops open, and your whole body rocks above him as you chase your climax. Wails and cries escape your throat at the familiar feeling in your lower stomach. The burning coil bursts and surges through your veins. Your pussy tightens around his cock like a vice, making Brahms growl as he cums into you. Your walls squeeze on his shaft, and your nails dig even deeper into his flesh. None of you can breathe for long seconds as waves and waves of pleasure wash over you both. His arms are tight around your middle, keeping your limp, exhausted body against his chest while his cock still jerks and shoots in your pussy.

"We should take a shower," you hum with a weak laugh when you feel his seed leaking out of your hole. "I can't feel my legs," he replies, making you chuckle again as you snuggle deeper in his arms.

[mouseymilkovich]

Speechless | Carmy x Reader | Chapter Six

previous chapter | masterlist | playlist | pinterest board | next chapter

Chapter Summary: Now that you've lost your best friend, what else is there to lose? Turns out there's more you could lose— a lot more. All because you liked Carmy. Is there any coming back from this? | Carmy Berzatto x fem/afab reader (using they/them pronouns)

Content Tags: We all remember s01e07, very mean angry Carmy, mentions of Richie's butt stabbing (lol), mean reader, reader is sad as fuck

Important Info: (texting) pink = reader, purple = Marcus

Chapter Six: All Because I Liked A Boy

Word Count: 2.1k

"Get the fuck off my expo, chef, now! Get the fuck off!"

The words rang out as you entered The Beef, it took you a second to realize... Carmy was yelling at Sydney. He had to be yelling at Sydney.

You rushed over to the kitchen and all you saw was chaos. You'd come to apologize, to maybe make up with Syd before The Beef opened for the day. You brought the bracelet, you had thought long and hard about what you'd say to her. Everything fell out of your brain the moment you heard her response to Carmy's tantrum.

"I quit."

When she rushed past you out, you almost chased her— but you decided you needed to confront Carmy first.

"What the fuck is going on back here?!" You yelled, trying to get anybody's attention.

"Sydney fuckin' stabbed me, son of a bitch—" You heard Richie grumble through all the chaos.

"What— she what?!" You were in disbelief. Sydney would never do anything like that... on purpose.

"Why are you fucking with me— why are you fucking with me?! Get the fuck back to work! Move!" More angry yelling came from Carmy.

You stopped him in his tracks, staring him down into his bright blue eyes. "Carmy, what in the fuck is going on?!"

Carmy took a frustrated breath, trying to move past you but you blocked him. "She fucking left on the option for pre-ordering! Everything is fucking ballistic, okay?! Get the fuck out of the way!"

You tried not to take offense, he was obviously very stressed. "It was probably an accident, Carmy, please, she would never—"

"I'm not giving her special fucking treatment for making a stupid fucking mistake just because you're her best friend and a good fuck—"

At those words, you struck Carmy with a slap. That, you definitely took offense to. You took a sharp breath, looking angrily at him. "Fuck you! I never asked you to give her special treatment, but a stupid mistake and being stressed doesn't give you the right to act like such a fucking dick!"

He touched the cheek you'd slapped, rubbing it gently where a harsh red mark appeared. Then, he snapped back. "Yeah? Well, maybe us having this little fuckin' fling doesn't give you the right to tell me what to do!"

You let out a spiteful laugh. "Wow. That's all I am now, huh? A little fling. Got it!"

Little fling... little fling?! After all of those little moments, stolen kisses, nights spent together, "I miss you" and "I'm thinking of you" texts, the genuine affection you were starting to feel every time you looked at him before now... there was more than just the sex, at least to you. But apparently, not to him.

"You know what I meant—"

"I never should've started this shit with you. You are a fucking asshole manchild, you only give a fuck about yourself! I need to go get my best friend back." Your tone showed the anger you felt, you were absolutely seething. You were letting it get the better of you, you knew you shouldn't, but you couldn't stop the next words that came. "Fuck you, Carmen Berzatto, from the very fucking bottom of my heart."

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you left the restaurant. In a matter of days you'd lost your best friend, and now you just lost the guy you really liked and wanted something more with. You also lost The Beef— how could you go back there ever again after this?

All because of a spun out lie— all because you fell for Carmen Berzatto.

The music you had in your headphones didn't help, as the lyric rang out— "God, I wish that you'd thought this through, before I went and fell in love with you."

All you wanted to do was hole up in your apartment and cry— but there was no time for that. You needed to get your best friend back.

You showed up at the Adamus front door, the bracelet, yours and Sydney's favourite childhood ice cream, and a stuffed animal all on your person. You knocked on the door, silently begging that she wouldn't just slam the door in your face.

When Sydney opened the door, your eyes welled with tears once more. So did Sydney's when she saw you, realizing the fact that you'd already been crying by the mascara running down your cheeks— it almost reminded you of the first ever fight you'd had as kids.

"I'm so sorry, Syd. I'm so, so sorry." You whispered as you shared a hug.

"Me too... I shouldn't have freaked out like that—" She started, but you quickly cut her off.

"No. No, you had every right to. I kept something from you for no good reason... I was scared you'd be mad, I was scared things I was doing would affect how Carmy treated you at work..." You sighed, then grabbed Sydney's hands. "It snowballed too far out of my control, everything else overcomplicated the very simple fact that I should've just told you. I should've told you my feelings right from the get go, and I should've told you the first time it happened."

"I guess I turned a blind eye, too. I mean, I should've known something was up when you were drunk and asked for his number." Sydney muttered with a little laugh.

"Yeah, okay, I guess that one is on you." You laughed, then rolled your eyes. "But... I mean it. I really am sorry."

"I forgive you, I promise." She replied, then pulled you in for a tight hug. "Just... no more secrets, okay?"

"No more secrets." You nodded. "I guess that means I should tell you... I ended things with Carmy. He was acting like a fucking bitch."

"What? You didn't have to do that— I hope you didn't do that just for me." Sydney frowned.

"No... after you left, we got into an argument. And, frankly, no guy will ever be more important to me than our friendship." You sighed, rubbing your face before you shook out of it. "Hoes before bros, right?"

Sydney smiled a little bit, and nodded. "Hoes before bros."

You went inside and to the living room together, where you cracked open the ice cream and held two spoons to dig in. One of your shared favourite movies played on a streaming service on the TV, and you settled in for a girls day.

"Oh! I almost forgot—" You started, then took out the bracelet, holding it to Sydney. You were wearing your own, hoping she'd wanna put it on.

She smiled in response, holding out her wrist for you to put it on her. "I'm sorry I gave it back to you... I did it out of anger and... I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Syd, I understand. I'm just glad I get to give it to you again."

You two stayed snuggled comfortably on the couch for a while, playing different movies and finishing your ice cream. You felt pretty upset still, Carmy calling you a little fling had cut like a fucking knife.

"You okay?" Sydney asked softly, nudging you gently.

"Well... no. Not really." You sighed, looking at her.

"Wanna talk about it?" She asked, gently putting her arm around you for comfort.

"Carmy... called us just a little fling. Maybe it sounds stupid, but... I thought it was more. I felt something. It was more than just the sex... to me, at least." You sighed. "But I guess it wasn't to him."

"Fucking prick." Sydney grumbled, then hugged you tightly. "I'm sorry."

After another moment of silence, you remembered something else amidst the chaos at The Beef, and you had to ask—

"Did you actually stab Richie?"

Sydney groaned, which turned into a laugh as she grabbed the bridge of her nose. "Yeah. It was an accident... but he thinks it was on purpose cus I kinda threatened to stab him earlier in the day... I think he's also mad cus I stabbed him in the ass."

You laughed loudly, covering your face. "The ass?! Fuck, man. That's brutal."

Sydney laughed along with you. At least she could laugh about it now that she wasn't thrown into the intensity of the moment when it happened.

You watched more movies through to the evening, then Sydney made you both dinner. You'd kept your phone on silent, but even when you checked it, nothing from Carmy. You did, however, decide to text Marcus.

hey, i made up with syd. i hope you're doing okay by the way

thanks. i'm holding up... also glad to hear you made up with syd

Unsurprisingly, you spent the night with Sydney. Partially because you wanted to make up for lost time for blowing her off while with Carmy, and the few days you spent not talking... and partially because you didn't want to be alone.

Of course, Carmy haunted your dreams all fucking night. You couldn't escape it— his blue eyes, the way he spoke to you, the way he sounded during sex, being called a little fling. It looped in your mind, like a never-ending roller-coaster around your brain— like some kid purposely built it up in RollerCoaster Tycoon to torment you. It was torture. You hardly got any sleep.

In the morning, you awoke to the smell of Sydney making breakfast. You padded to the kitchen, yawning and stretching.

"Morning." She muttered, flipping your omelet onto a plate.

"Morning..." You muttered back, rubbing your face. "Did you make coffee?"

"Way ahead of you." She said, sliding a mug over to you, made just the way you liked it.

"You're a saint." You sighed dramatically, then smiled. "Have I mentioned I love you?"

After you indulged in breakfast, you two sat back on the couch. Something tugged at your thoughts, something you needed to ask.

"So, we officially need a new restaurant to make memories in." You stated, then continued when Syd gave you a confused look. "We lost The Beef. There's no way we can go back there now."

"Right." Syd muttered with a little laugh. "Well, uh, I dunno... let's worry about that after I find a new job, okay?"

"Right. That." You sighed. "Want me to help you update your resume?"

"Let's just... have a girls day today—" Sydney was interrupted by a knock at the door.

You both answered, each half heartedly wondering if it was Carmy, maybe coming to apologize, but you doubted it. Instead, it was Marcus.

"Shouldn't you be at work?" You asked, tone slightly teasing.

"Very funny." Marcus laughed. "Can I hang out?"

"Guess it's a girls plus Marcus day." Syd muttered with a little laugh.

"You can still call it a girls day. I'll be one of the girls for the day." Marcus joked.

Spending the day with Marcus and Sydney was pretty nice. It didn't completely take your mind off things— but it helped, at least a little bit. All three of you had been hurt, even if it was in different ways, it was nice to take the time to be together and heal, at least somewhat.

Sydney had been continuously testing her recipe for cola-braised short ribs— you and Marcus were equally eager to try them. She'd been talking about them for a while, and you knew she was disappointed when Carmy told her they weren't ready.

"Okay, try!" She hummed, pushing the plate across the counter to you and Marcus with two forks.

You and Marcus each took a fork, then dug in. As usual, you thought your best friend's creation was absolutely delicious.

"Killed it, as usual." You commented, then went in for another bite.

"Seriously, Syd, it's delicious." Marcus agreed. "Carmy's full of shit for saying this wasn't ready."

"Well, Carmy's a Michelin star chef." Sydney replied with a sigh, leaning against the counter. "But I'm glad you guys like it."

"You could be a Michelin star chef and you know it." You scoffed with an eye roll.

Sydney just smiled at you, but returned your eye roll too.

You cooked together, baked together, danced to music in the kitchen, watched more movies while indulging in the baked goods you'd made. It was nice to unwind, all three of you. At least, out of everything, you gained Marcus as a close friend, that had to be worth something, at least.

"Dad wants to take everybody out to dinner. He wants us to meet him. How about it?" Sydney asked as the three of you tidied up the kitchen.

"I'd love that." You nodded. You owed it to him, at least, since last time you'd got that invitation was when you and Sydney fought. "Marcus?"

"I'm down." Marcus chimed in as he dried the last dish.

You could only hope that Sydney would either let you spend the night again tonight, or she'd come sleep at your place, because the thought of being alone tonight tormented you. You just couldn't do it yet.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

tags ; @maggiesarchives @carmenberzattosgf @buendiabebeta @turtle-cant-communicate

wanna be tagged in any future speechless trilogy updates? leave 🫢 + an @ to tag in my askbox !

[maxwell-grant]

“What's impressive?! I've been a boy this whole time!”

(Spoilers for Puss in Boots 2: The Last Wish)

Big Jack Horner was delightfully wretched and felt a lot like he was a Shrek villain stuck in a Puss in Boots movie and it made for a really interesting contrast, with everyone else in the forest going through swashbuckling adventures of personal growth and companionship, while he’s cheating and steamrolling his way through everything with darkly comedic brutality, quite literally pulling Shrek gags out of a bag as he just kills and burns and stomps his way through the magical wonderland.

It’s like he was designed to be the Final Boss of Shrek, except there’s currently no Shrek movies for him to be in so, into the Puss in Boots sequel he goes, almost like this dark embodiment of the shadow cast over the Puss in Boots franchise that it must surpass (and somehow did). He just does not play by any of the same rules everyone else does and it’s great, it lets everyone look better by default. It lets the Puss vs Death story play out in all it’s poetic glory but still gives the movie a proper bastard for everyone to gang up on. I didn’t think of that at first, but I’ve read some comments and wonderful analysis commenting on Jack Horner as a extended pisstake on Disney, an update of Lord Farquaad for modern times, and it’s an analysis that makes a lot of sense.

In that regard: while this couldn’t possibly have been intentional given their release dates so close to each other, I do think it’s pretty funny that Jack winds up connected to Pinocchio, a character who had having a rather busy 2022 if you can tell. Not only is he followed around by a bootleg Jiminy Cricket, but we see that Jack, who was extremely well-off and spoiled throughout his entire life, bears an incandescent bitterness against all magical creatures (and Pinocchio specifically) for taking attention away from his roadside show, which consisted entirely of him reciting his nursery rhyme over and over (even his family was shown bored by it), and so that’s why he wants to own ALL the magic in the world: so that nobody else gets any.

He, who already owns a massive empire and business and land and literally endless collections of powerful magical artifacts he can use to achieve anything he wants a trillion times over, who doesn’t even know what most of what he has does or is worth, is driven by the fact that Pinocchio upstaged him once,

and so nobody else should get to do anything like that ever again.

(Again, not saying this was remotely intentional, just a funny coincidence)

Also wonderful how his ultimate undoing comes from said bootleg Jiminy Cricket, one of the countless employees he’d abused and crushed over the movie, finally having enough and sending him his incendiary “resignation letter”. 2022 saw the year end with a movie where Jiminy Cricket ends a titanic corporate manchild’s reign of terror and life by setting a magical contract map on fire and freeing everyone from it.

It doesn’t even register as one of the best things about the movie only because the movie has SO many best things going on, that it can just casually work in one of the funniest Shrek subplots of all time like it’s easy. Still shocked at how good this film was and how much life they injected into it, perfect movie to end or start the year with.

[dragonagitator]

House MD fans: You wake up in the PPTH ER in summer 2004. What you doing?

Scenario parameters:

All your memories of the show and the past 20 years are intact.

You are stuck there/then and cannot return to our universe/year.

You have nothing but the hospital gown on your back.

Questions:

So, what do you do?

How much would you tell House?

How would you get him to believe you?

Who else would you tell?

How much would you tell them?

Inspiration:

The author self-insert isekai fanfic "Intervention" by VivatRex (aka @acrownforaking). They've been writing it for the past 11+ years and are still updating. It's already nearly 300k words long despite only being up to the events of S02E15. I AM IN AWE.

I haven't been able to stop thinking about this scenario ever since I read that fanfic a month ago. I'd love to discuss it with other House MD fans and hear what you would do.

(Apologies to the mutuals for the abrupt blog topic change. A new brainrot has taken hold.)

My short answer:

My long answers are below the cut.

So, what do you do?

My primary objective would be to enlist House in averting the pandemic.

My reasoning: If anyone can nip it in the bud before it gets out of Wuhan, I figure that a world-renowned genius doctor who is an infectious diseases specialist, speaks Mandarin, and now has a 15-year head start would have the best chance.

Difficulty level: Babysitting a narcissistic manchild with the self-preservation instincts of a toddler until the year 2020 so that he makes it there then alive, out of prison, and with his sanity, medical license, and professional reputation intact. To quote Quantum Leap, "Ohhhhhh boooooooy."

Strategy: I'm in the "I could fix him, but whatever's wrong with him is way funnier" camp, so I wouldn't try to change him (that always backfires anyway). Instead, I'd try to change his circumstances:

A stable romantic relationship would help, so I'd seduce him if I can (I'm not his type but a gal's gotta shoot her shot), try to get him together with Dominika earlier if I can't, and tell him how horribly his relationship with Cuddy ended so he knows better than to even start it.

Avert the shooting. Moriaty was a patient so his info is in the PPTH files. I AM THE ONE WHO KNOCKS. Or for a less murdery approach, try to get him arrested in April 2006 for violating New Jersey's strict gun laws.

Warn House about Tritter so he can switch patients with another clinic doctor.

Warn House to never get on a bus with Amber.

Tell Kutner I'm from the future and he's the only one who can prevent something horrible from happening (he's a Trekkie so he'll want to believe), then unfurl my big timeline poster and point at the "Kutner suicide early 2009" stickynote and ask him "so what's up with that, dude?"

Tell Wilson everything I can remember about his cancer -- he's an oncologist and thus can work backwards from there to figure out when to start checking for it so he can cut the tumor out while it's still just a tiny baby.

I would take a harm reduction approach to House's drug use, e.g., suggest that he try microdosing psilocybin and extend his liver's lifespan by substituting cannabis for some of his Vicodin and alcohol consumption.

Methods: Even though he doesn't have one for most of the show, House mentions a few times that he's entitled to hire an assistant, and I happen to be excellent at administrative work.

I think he'd be willing to hire me because working as his executive assistant / department secretary would position me to recognize patients as they come in so that I can discreetly pass along anything I remember, e.g., the kindergarten teacher has pork worms in her brain, ask the scientist in Antarctica to show you her feet, etc.

Meanwhile, I could lurk around the hospital preventing miscellaneous shit, e.g., get the gift shop volunteer from S01E04 to go home sick, ensure that the gunman from S05E09 is promptly admitted, diagnosed, and treated before he snaps and takes hostages, etc.

Possible sidequests:

Use my foreknowlege to get rich by milking online poker bonuses until the passage of the UIGEA in 2006, use my poker money to start flipping houses until 2007, get in on the "Big Short" in 2008, and set a Google Alert for "Bitcoin" so I can start mining/buying it from day one. Unfortunately, I haven't paid enough attention to individual stocks to play the market other than knowing that Amazon would be a good long-term buy & hold.

Use my riches to change the outcome of the 2016 election and try to steer the development of the internet and society in general in a slightly less stupid direction.

Send Pete Carroll a letter postdated just before the 2013 Superbowl telling him the outcome, then suggest for the final play of the 2014 Superbowl that the Seahawks try handing the ball off to Marshawn Lynch instead of throwing it because that throw will be intercepted. PRIORITIES.

How much would you tell House? How would you get him to believe you?

Your story about being from the future of an alternate universe in which House and everyone he knows are characters on a fictional TV show is already too batshit crazy to believe even without his kneejerk "everybody lies" skepticism. How would you differentiate yourself from all the patients who pull crazy stunts to try to get him to take their case?

My answer: For the "from the future" part, I'm hoping there's some sort of test that House could run to confirm that I was indeed vaccinated with a mRNA vaccine against the COVID-19/SARS-COV-2 virus. Given that neither of those things existed in 2004, that would be physical evidence that I'm not from around here now.

If producing physical evidence isn't possible, then I know that Vegetative State Guy from S03E15 is already a patient at PPTH because he'd been there for 10 years, so I'd find him and tell House about his son. I could also tell House enough about the cases from the first few episodes that I'm pretty sure he'd believe me by Christmas. I want in on Chinese food with Wilson.

I would wait until House accepted the "from the future" part before broaching the "fictional TV show" issue. Until then, "I watched a TV show about your life and cases" is a 100% true statement and it's not my fault if he assumes that show was a documentary. :)

Once he believed me, I'd tell him everything.

Who else would you tell? How much would you tell them?

There are people out there who would literally kill for your knowledge of the future, so going public or being too open about it seems highly risky.

My answer: I'd tell House, Wilson, and Chase right away. Kutner but not before Jan 2009. Maybe eventually Cuddy and the rest of the Diagnostics team if keeping my foreknowledge of the future from them proves too difficult.

House is the only one who gets to know everything. Everyone else is on a "need to know" basis.

I might also bring Bill Arnello (the brother/lawyer of the mob informant in S01E15 "Mob Rules") into the circle of trust because he could be a very useful resource for some of my sidequests, e.g., changing the outcome of the 2016 election far far far in advance and in the most direct way possible. (Hi, Secret Service! This is a purely hypothetical discussion about time travel and not at all indicative of any real criminal intent, pls do not pay me a visit, kthxbai.)

I think the only people I would tell the "fictional TV show" part to would be House, Wilson, and Chase, because there are things I need to warn them about that definitely wouldn't have been in a documentary. Like Chase needs to know that killing Diballa is 100% the right thing to do but he seriously needs to work on his OpSec. Everyone else gets the implied documentary lie of omission.

If I get caught knowing too much by random patients, I'll just claim to be psychic. Way more people believe in that than would believe in time travel.

What would you do?

[love-marimo]

Carry Me Home (Various JJK Men x Reader)

ー drunken hcs of jjk men/reader wanting to be carried home

Lolita's Note: As far as I remember, Gojo canonically doesn't drink bc he says he can't stand alcohol, so I wanted to make him extra whiny bc I think he's a cute little bastard for that~ Also it's been a while since I wrote for jjk!! Yay ~ ♡

Gojo Satoru

Poor, poor you.

You never get away from his attention seeking behavior when he's sober, what more if he's drunk.

Will make all sorts of funny faces just to hear your sweet laugh (it boosts him up and will increase the chance of him clinging onto you)

He gets really loud and more shameless when he's drunk (or if he's in a sullen mood he would have this sulking expression on his face as he tries to keep to himself)

Whines, whines, whines a loooot

"Babe, let's go~"

"I want to go to bed with you.~

"Satoru, we're outside."

If he gets too drunk he becomes unaware of his surroundings so you have to keep an eye on him.

Wants a piggyback ride home

You end up complying, but after a few minutes your body gave up so you had to drag him with you

Yes, he's a handful. A manchild indeed.

Though, the rare times where you're the one who gets drunk, he becomes really observant.

Will do his best to listen to your woes, dance with you, give you a kiss or twoー all that jazz.

Geto Suguru

This man… drinks his frustrations away.

No, scratch that. He drinks and ponders about everything.

Geto worries and thinks a lot. It's his second nature. Though he toned down a lot after he parted ways with Satoru.

Before, especially during his time at Jujutsu Tech, his choice of drink were beer cans strong spirits like whiskey and gin.

He drinks a lot, so naturally he also has a high tolerance.

But after he established his own cult, he settled for wine and saké. And he doesn't drink as much as he used to.

You really don't have to worry too much about him losing control of himself. He's got you, especially if you're a lightweight.

One time though, in his tipsy state he will suddenly walk to you and pull you into a hug and he'll whisper sweet nothings to your ear.

"I love you."

"Did you know that you're so beautiful tonight?"

"Oh, my sweet little darling has their cheeks painted pink~"

You got a little frustrated at his lingering touches so you suddenly challenged him to a drinking contest.

Which you lost to, and now you want nothing more than for him to take you home.

He'll laugh at your state for a bit before he sweeps you off your feet and obliges.

Once you pass out he'll take photos of your messed up state.

Maybe it's for times where he'll be drinking alone.

Before his thoughts eat him alive once more, he'll look at those photos of yours so that he can silence them all at once.

Nanami Kento

Now this is a man who drinks his frustrations away.

Whiskey is his favorite.

You'll either find him alone at the dining room or by the bar stool as he silently finishes his glass… that you probably lost count of.

"Love, you need to stop drinking for now."

Nanami often has this exhausted expression on his face that gets really highlighted when he drinks.

His eyebags, tousled hair and wrinkled suit are telltale signs that he's really on the edge of it.

"I should drive, okay? You're really drunk."

He nods and he presses a kiss to your cheek.

God, he reeks of the musky scent of whiskey.

He'll end up venting to you about his wishes for a more relaxed life. And he'll promise again and again that he'll make it come true just for the sake of you both.

Toji Fushiguro

Definitely someone who drinks beer and rum.

Although he doesn't drink often, he'll gladly join you if you invite him to drink with you. Even if he despises alcohol.

He prefers it if you come over to his place or a nearby bar (make sure you put everything on your tab, he's broke as hell).

Sometimes he drinks a beer can while he cleans his weapons.

"Hey. What's up, doll?"

"Don't you dare puke on me now-"

"Geez, you've made a mess."

Says him as you spilled your guts outside the club you went to.

"Let's get you home now."

He's got decent tolerance, but that's because he's not a heavy drinker. He prefers guarding you over drinking with you.

Def would piggyback you or carry you over his shoulder like a ragdoll as you whine at him for not letting you return back to the club.

He's not the best, but he cleans you up with a damp rag and places another one on your forehead to help lower your temperature.

The type you'll see shirtless the next morning while cooking you breakfast and hangover food.

ー Lolita

[profounddefendorcrusade-blog]

I feel bad for Starlo. (pt. 9)

Star's the Papyrus (both are idealistic & seen as naive) of this game (Martlet is another possible parallel), even though he's got similarities with Undyne too. No matter how broken Ceroba seemed he asked himself WHY she did what she did and I think that's SUPER important.

Ceroba didn't do this. Her first instinct was to be harsh (after being harsh with him even BEFORE he attacked Clover):

called his personality "damaged" before this scene

... you never asked yourself WHY he did the whole sheriff act.

.... you never asked WHY he didn't want to grow up. If it was a coping mechanism, if he wanted to help his community in a way he couldn't as a farmer? It was never on her mind.

Yes he has baggage but he's dealing with it all while uplifting others, Ceroba has baggage but is well taken care of by Star and at least has him, he has no one but himself and his optimism to pull him out of negative feelings, and still gets insulted.

Yeah Ceroba's been through stuff but apparently it's been some time since Chujin passed and Kanako fell down, she should have at least started to support Star emotionally like he's been supporting her (sure, he did so with distractions, but as he said "aren't distractions what's best for all of that?" He did his best). Problem is she DIDN'T realise he was ever struggling with self worth and only assumed he was goofing off. Either that or she did nothing about it aka was too occupied with her own problems (which are valid but still... she should have tried at least a little) Cer's character flaw is being too stubborn and devoted to Chujin. She trusted him blindly and wholeheartedly. Everything else came in 2nd place. This is clear as day.

It hurts knowing Ceroba could never respect Starlo the way she still does her husband. Not saying she shouldn't admire Chujin, but the way she sees Star as a goofy manchild whose lifelong passion can go "too far," the way she sees all this Wild East stuff as him "just having fun," the way she thinks that only someone whose brain isn't developed would ever consider dating him just... ticks me off, tbh. That's why I think the guy needs someone who will be gentle and patient with him, even if that other person is going through tough times.

She DID call Starlo the best sheriff she's ever known (honestly the only sweet moment between them in pacifist, but it is very brief, especially in neutral where he just gets cut off; also I hope she was being genuine here) and said how everyone adored him (but hated his persona, which I've already covered: basically they either hated 'North Star' as a whole, which I hope isn't true, or just how excited he was to meet Clover, which makes no sense to me; already covered it as well)

Bonus: Dina didn't know who Star really was or what he looked like, not before the end credits rolled (when he shows up as himself & she's also seen there; makes sense that he finally came clean to her):

So he's literally been playing this role 24/7, ever since she became the bartender; ever since this town started to exist. It's impressive how he could keep up an act AND use this fake accent for so long

Bonus #2: Star was SUPER worried about Clover's safety; that's what REALLY upset him (he cares about that child sm). THAT's what drove him off the edge (unless he naturally has a temper, i don't think this is it tho). Either way, he was way more patient w Ceroba than I think most would have been in that situation. Sure he snapped a few times, but there was a good reason to. He still TRIED to reason with her. Why did he attack? Worried for Martlet & Clover. I honestly think Star's the type to only get super angry if someone he loves is in danger (minus the stuff that happened which led him to cracking)

[universesweetheart]

Negotiation (Dazai x Reader)

Pushing the chubby Dazai agenda, he's so cute! Look at his little belly, im gonna cry it's so cute!! Missing him terribly.

In which we bribe him with affection and feed him

Read my other dazai oneshots here, here & here This has been in my draft for soo long, but I got a job and forgot about it. Happy late Diwali!

Bye now - Mars ♡

Out of everything you saw yourself doing this year, dating an overdramatic enigmatic manchild who whines like a baby was not one of them.

How did you get here? You started officially dating Dazai a few months ago, you two were exclusive. Before that you probably fooled around for a year, flirting here and there, and going on dates, random hook ups but somewhere along the way, you fell for each other. Hard.

It did have a trial and error period and you did have to set some firm boundaries, because as much as fooling around with him was fun, you craved the security of knowing this wasn’t some meaningless fling to him.

Fast forward to being exclusive with Dazai, he’s an amazing partner. His genius brain is quick to pick up on even the smallest changes and he reads you like an open book. He’s affectionate and he always finds money, granted never his own, to spend on you. He’s great in bed and he’s sweet with words. The list goes on. He’s almost perfect.

However, he’s not the best at opening up, he can talk your ear off without revealing a single thing about his mind. His heart. He also tends to neglect himself very much, at first you thought it was just temporary work stress but even when he’s away from work he does it.

At first you noticed how he only puts in efforts when you’re around, and the longer your relationship went on, the less effort he made. The biggest issue you have is how he so carelessly skips meals. It makes you angry but after some thoughts and rants to your cat, you’ve decided to bribe him.

You wanted to be subtle about it but honestly, he probably already picked up on it. You’re convinced he just allows you to do what you want.

You started off small and your plan was to gradually build him up to regular meals.

The first time you did it, it was as simple as feeding him a bite from your snack. A simple yogurt bowl with fruits and a “Mm, try this, it’s good” and stuffing his mouth with a spoonful of yogurt and berries.

That became a regular habit you did, giving him small bites of your snacks whether that be protein bars, cookies, chocolates. This then transferred into your meals, purposefully adding more to your plate so you can whine about not finishing it and offering the rest to him so he can.

That didn’t last long, he quickly caught on your little act and urge you to feed it to your cat instead.

Then the brilliant idea of bribing him with kisses and affection to eat came about. It started with an argument and then you two not speaking for two days. Angry as you were, you decided to deny him of your hugs and you two slept with you backs to each other, you slept at least. Dazai stayed up and drank his feelings. The second night he didn’t even come home, God knows where he were.

The third day you two resolved your little conflict and with some probing, sweet words, kissing and negotiation you got Dazai to eat at least one full meal a day.

You both agreed on that. Baby steps, one meal a day, it’s better than drinking alcohol and eating tinned crab almost every day.

Right now, you were both on the couch, you on his lap with his arms lazily slung around you. You had a small bowl of rice and stir-fried vegetables along with some eggs.

You held the chopsticks up to his lips and looks at him in his eyes, “Please” you looked down at his lips, “For me” you watched as he hesitantly opened his mouth and took the food and chewed and swallowed.

Placing a kiss on his forehead you praised him for his first bite.

Then you repeated that until the bowl of food was almost finished, feeding him, kissing him, praising him.

After he managed to finish, you placed the bowl down and caress his cheeks, “You did so good, m’proud” you mumbled and kisses him. Your hands cupped his face, lips brushing against his cheeks, the tip of his nose, the crease of his brows, his temple, his jawline. Just anywhere your lips found, you placed sweet kisses.

He smiled and you felt like you’d melt away and fall off the couch if it weren’t for his arms around you. “Thank you, Bella” He mumbles quietly, and you can’t help but capture his lips in another sweet kiss. You feel his hands squeeze your waist, pulling you closer to him as he desperately returns your kiss.

He pulls away from you, his brows furrowed, and he belched and it catches you off guard. Dazai looks at you, awaiting your reaction and when he saw your smile and heard a little giggle, it triggered his own smile.

“I really am proud of you, Osamu”