#how am i supposed to listen to you when you won't even say the thing you're supposed to be talking about

[lazylittledragon]

can't believe we're all adults being forced into the club penguin level of censorship in 2024

[awearywritersworld]

the man who embraced wickedness and the woman he used to know

sukuna x reader summary: sukuna is reunited with the only person who ever showed him kindness w/c: 1.25k tags/warnings: heian era!sukuna. angst to fluff. fem!reader. me trying my best to channel an 1800s romance novelist a/n: part 2 to the boy spurned as evil and the girl of his youth. i am once again asking that people check out the artwork by @demonzaemon that inspired these two fics. they also made some artwork inspired by part one, which makes me scream and cry and yell bc it's so wonderful. masterlist

it isn't until nearly two decades after your last encounter that sukuna finally musters the courage to return to the riverside. as he listens to the rush of the water, he hates the way it makes him feel— like the scared, powerless boy he once was.

he won't get too close. instead he stands at the edge of the forest, as if he can hide from his past among the trees.

he decides he must be dreaming when he spots a woman approaching the river, because even though he can see little more than her silhouette, he has no doubt that it's you.

he'd know you anywhere, in this life and the next.

he has no idea how long he stands watching you before he finally gathers the nerve to take a step in your direction.

you look over your shoulder and meet his eye once he's only a few yards away.

the expression that crosses your features is not unlike the one you wore when you first saw him— an earnest sort of wonder.

"it's you," you state as if you've been waiting on him to appear.

"you... remember me?"

"how could i forget?"

you approach him without fear or apprehension, and having you so close after all this time makes his heart race uncomfortably in his chest.

"are you well?" he questions, his eyes trailing down your body before flicking back up to yours. "you look it."

a smile tugs at the corner of your mouth, your gaze falling to the ground bashfully. you rock on the heels of your feet before answering.

"i am well enough... and what of you?"

he's not sure that he's being entirely truthful when he replies, "i can say the same, i suppose."

"it pleases me to hear that you have not been suffering all this time. i must admit, i find that my thoughts still wander to you with remarkable frequency."

you laugh lightly at your own confession, fearing he may regard you as strange for it. on the other hand, he's thinking about how the sound of your laughter is the most beautiful thing he's heard since... well, since he last heard it.

"it is not rare for you to occupy the space of my own mind," he returns honestly.

you grab one of his hands, turning his palm up and running your thumb over the faint scar you find there. he hates the way it makes your face fall.

"i am sorry about that night, for what my father did to you. it was my fault for falling asleep—"

"don't," he stops you. "the fault lies only with me. i shouldn't have let him steal you away. i shouldn't have been so utterly weak—"

it's your turn to interrupt him and you press the pads of your fingers to his mouth to keep him from saying anything more.

"that is the farthest thing from the truth. you didn't deserve that. you deserved not one bit of the cruelty the village mercilessly showed you. you were only a boy, sukuna."

when your fingers fall from his lips, he doesn't try to speak. he doesn't trust that his voice won't betray him.

he can't remember the last time he heard his name spoken so familiarly, so warmly. it makes his throat feel tight.

the silence gives you an opportunity to take in the ways in which he's changed over the years.

his kimono and haori are pristine, a far cry from the rags he used to wear.

his frame is more than double the size of your own, and you know he's no longer living on scraps.

he stands tall, his posture straight and self assured, not that of someone who is feeble and frightened.

but you're not referring to any of those things when you point out, "you're different now."

and of course you're right, he just doesn't know how to tell you that the boy you used to spend your days with is gone. that the blood on his hands is no longer his own. that the person standing before you is nothing more than the monster the villagers always claimed him to be.

so he just nods in agreement and your eyes sparkle as you regard him with curiosity.

"i loved you, you know," you tell him sincerely.

your confession is painful to hear, because it reminds him of everything he lost that night.

"i could love you now, too." you reach up and caress his cheek, trying desperately to read the expression he's wearing. "if you'll let me."

for a moment, you think he might agree to your offer, but your hope is short lived.

"this... this was a mistake."

he turns to leave, intending to retreat to the shadows of the forest, but a small hand wraps around his wrist.

"no." your tone is forceful.

if only you knew what happens to most people who dare speak that word in his presence.

he doesn't say anything, so you add, "the only mistake you've made is waiting so long to come back to me."

he's surprised upon seeing the frustrated tears that well up in your eyes.

"we are but strangers to one another." his reminder stings and it shows plainly on your face. "and that is for the best, i assure you. you don't want to know me— to know the things i've done."

"i care not what you've done!" your voice is so loud, it sends a flock of birds fleeing from a nearby tree. "i care not what horrors loneliness may have driven you toward, because when we belonged to one another you were good. you were kind. you were—"

"stop." each of your words is like a knife in his chest, and his voice cracks from the ache of it.

"i will not! if your only intention was to reject me, why come here at all?"

"i don't know—"

"precisely! you want me, just as i want you. my devotion is yours, sukuna! there is no reason for you to reject that which i willingly give—"

"enough!" he barks at you, grabbing you roughly by the shoulders. you don't shy away from him, even in spite of the way his fingers dig into your flesh and his nose flares angrily.

"you believe that because you showed me a sliver of kindness when we were children that i should throw myself at your feet? your devotion means nothing to me! it does little more than inspire my disgust!"

the words taste like poison on his tongue, but he needs you to believe them.

he needs to believe them himself.

he pushes you away, and while it's not harshly enough to send your body flying to the grass, it does make you stumble backwards.

ire burns in your eyes and he thinks he's succeeded in his endeavor, but once he turns to leave, you're grabbing his wrist again and launching yourself against him.

your hands find his face and you pull his lips to yours despairingly. your bodies move together as if you've spent a lifetime in one another's arms.

then, he's pulling away from you. he's calling you a pathetic fool. he's looking at you with animosity.

but just as quickly, his lips find yours again and he grabs at the fabric of your kimono in an attempt to bring your body closer to his own.

you swear his hands tremble as they find a home on the curve of your hips.

once your lips part, he holds your gaze for what feels like an eternity.

resignation seems to dance across his features, but there's something else there too. desire? hope? longing?

you really can't say for certain.

"i am yours, and you are mine."

you're not sure if it's a question or a statement, so you offer him a slight nod of your head. "today and always."

[kadwrites]

future mrs shelby | T.S

previous part | next part

or check out the series masterlist

summary ; the dreaded day arrives.

warnings ; arranged marriage!trope, anxious reader? , mommy issues, slow burn,

a/n ; shit will go down next part , but lmk know what you think of this one?

-

"mrs gray" your back is straight when you speak to her, truth be told you never got over the fear you have of her

"polly." she corrects you,

"polly." you repeat, you couldn't help but repeat it when she said it in that stern voice of hers

"so ya want to meet the in laws aye?" polly's smirk is there, as it always was.

"i told 'er she doesn't 'ave to." the smirk must be a genetic thing

"but i really want to." you add, with a nod

"she has manners, this girl." she points at you with her cigarette "almost too good for ya."

"almost?" he glares at you for a second after you spoke "i do 'ave a question for ya, polly."

she looks at you, nodding slightly

"tommy says they won't like me"

"they probably won't." she exhales the smoke before speaking again "we are not very accepting of outsiders."

"how can i make them accept me?"

"ya don't."

"what?" your brows pinch together "but i want to."

"i know" she nods again "but ya shouldn't, ya shouldn't go out of your way to 'ave someone respect ya. ya show them who ya are and they'll learn." she taps her cigarette against the ash tray "remember that backbone that i told ya about?"

you hated the way you were sometimes. you hated that you wanted people to like you , maybe it's because you were wired to. "a lady is always pleasant and always seeks to be loved." your mother always said. the thought of your own husband's family hating is making your head hurt

"yeah i remember" you're chewing the inside of your cheek, you didn't even notice that your feet were tapping against the floor

"why are ya so stressed about this? who fucking cares if they don't love ya?" tommy mutters as he lights up his own cigarette

"so what am i supposed to do now? wait till the party to meet them?"

"you'd be too stressed to care what they think of ya." polly adds, her eyes are making you squirm in your seat. no matter how often she did that, she still intimidated you.

"i think i'm going to be sick." your arm is wrapped around tommy's as you both walk through the long corridor that leads to the ballroom, where all the guests are.

everything feels overwhelming. your grandmother's diamond necklace that you insisted on wearing feels like it's digging into your throat. your dress feels too tight, the silk feels somehow hot. your shoes feel like they're going to slip off your feet. your hair feels like it's wound too tight, but feels like it might come undone at the same time.

he hold back a laugh and it's your turn to glare at him "it's not funny"

"never said it was." he's smiling though "it's just a party , relax."

"easy for ya to say, this is what ya lot do." you mumble , your eyes stuck at the end of the corridor

"us?"

"yeah, rich people i mean."

"i wasn't always rich, ya know." he looks forward as well as you both walk

"but ya were born to be rich." you didn't even think of those words, or even seem to care what he thinks, your words come out with a nervous breath laced around them, listening to the sounds of music and people celebrating

but he turns to look at you, and you didn't even notice that.

you take a deep breath, straightening your back and putting on the best smile you can muster as you walk into the party, people turn to the both of you. the greetings and congratulations start.

tommy speaks calmly, you envy him. he looks like he belongs there, between the aristocrats that fill the room.

tommy looks nothing short of dashing. his suit is perfect, not a wrinkle in sight. his demeanor is cool, in control, which he always is.

"mr shelby, congratulations!"

"congratulations thomas, it's a beautiful party"

"ya look gorgeous, miss. congratulations on the engagement"

"best of luck to the both of you!"

you just smile and nod, thanking them. you almost can't even see their faces, too anxious and too stressed.

"tommy."

that voice makes your eyes focus , your vaguely familiar with it.

it's his brother, arthur. you still keep your smile, though you can feel your hands sweating.

"arthur."

"so this the future mrs tommy shelby, aye?" he looks at you with a raised brow, you can't decipher the look.

"yes it is." you keep your voice at a steady tone , with that same smile "ya must be arthur , it's a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance."

"ya speak too posh for a farmer's girl." his words seem a little slurred , now that you're listening well

"and ya speak too poorly for a rich man." your head is still held high.

tommy glances at you then back at his brother , he looks almost proud.

"did ya teach 'er to say that?" he smirks at his brother

"i'm not a parrot , arthur. he didn't teach me anything." you let out a chuckle, you pick up a champagne flute from one of the trays that the waiters carry "it's a party right? , let's celebrate, ey?, grab yourself a drink" you lift your champagne flute "cheers" you say before taking a sip, and tommy walks, dragging you with him

"is your whole family going to be like that?" your nervousness now shows as you throw back your champagne flute, drinking all of it

"yes" he looks at you with a smile , he takes the glass away, "don't get drunk, it's too early."

"right." you try to take deep breaths, you look around the venue.

it's perfect, it's everything you've ever wanted, everything you've ever dreamed of. the cake, the music, the drinks, the decorations. nothing is out of place, except for you, or that's how you feel.

how are you ever going to fit into this life? how many of those parties are you going to have to attend or host?

your train of thought is quickly interrupted by fiona and madeline who look like they might combust with excitement

"oh my god ya look gorgeous!" madeline hugs you and fiona is by your side

"ya look stunning!"

tommy clears his throat and madeline freezes

"madeline and fiona, right?" he raises a brow, how did they not notice him?.

madeline pulls back, and both of them look at eachother

you laugh, you feel as if all that weight was lifted off your chest by just seeing their faces

"madeline , fiona" you smile "this is tommy, in case ya're too drunk to recognize 'im."

"she talks about ya two a lot ya know."

"she does?" fiona laughs nervously "it's a pleasure to meet ya , sir."

"congratulations!" madeline says with a smile

"thank you," he smiles at them, and you think both of them might actually turn to dust.

"where is celest?" your question made them both look at you again

"she's......." fiona trails off

"um...." madeline chimes in, with nothing.

you close your eyes shut at that "fuck me."

she and your mother had a fight, is what that means.

"what the fuck 'appened this time then?"

"celest wore your mother's necklace." fiona says quietly,

the ruby necklace.

she had to do something, she just had to somehow do something to ruin this.

"where's is she now?" your voice is too quiet and it makes madeline squeak

"in one of the room , she's crying i think."

-

taglist ; @tardisloverz , @optimisticsandwichgladiator, @theshelbyslimited , @illuminwtesz , @goldensunflowe-r , @gruffle1 , @warrior-of-justice , @mgdixon , @babayaga67 , @goblinjnr, @justaproudslytherpuff , @budugu , @twlegit , @amberpanda99 , @aesthetic0cherryblossom , @capswife , @lets-turn-and-burn , @affabletimelady , @edencherries , @globetrotter28 , @eg-dr3amer3 , @sadroses98 , @fairytale07 , @hakudaru , @swordofawriter, @esposadomd , @thisuserlovesyouandyouandyou

[strawberrysturniolo]

never grow up seven

summary: after taking things to long distance, sunny and chris face the highs and lows of their love story. smuttyyyyyy and angstyyy. mentions of depression. some phone sex.

part six

part eight

Chris’ POV

The first two weeks of me and Sunny were so good. So fucking good. 

We were on such a high, a honeymoon phase I had never experienced before. We were talking consistently, both of us trying our hardest to make time for each other while we continued with our lives as we lived on opposite sides of the country.

One weekend in particular, I was kinda shit about responding, but it really wasn’t my fault. I had a shoot for Fresh Love on Friday, then had to go to an event that night. Saturday, we filmed a collaborative video all day with other YouTubers, and that night we filmed our podcast for Monday. Sunday, I met up with my friends at a music video shoot, and now that it’s Monday again, Sunny is back in classes.

I woke up late from having such a loaded weekend, and when I tried calling her at 1 p.m., she declined my call.

Me: Hey. Are you in class?

Sunshine: at work

Me: Oh

Me: Sorry. I had a crazy weekend. Woke up late because I’m exhausted. Can you talk after work?

Sunshine: i wont get home until midnight and then i have an 8 am tmr.

Sunshine: you didnt have a minute to text at all?

Me: I’m sorry baby

Me: I was really busy

Me: I’m trying to talk now but it’s the time zones fault

Sunshine: yeah

I know she’s upset with me. This is one of those unfortunate things that comes with distance. I’m really trying. When both of us are free, it’s great, and we can talk forever, but when one of us is really busy, it throws everything off. 

My schedule was loaded this weekend, and hers is loaded through the week with her classes and work, so with those combined, we haven’t really talked in a week. 

Me: I love you. Text me when you’re home from work so I can say goodnight

Sunshine: i love you too

I feel like shit. I’m really trying here. I can’t read her tone over text messages, and we haven’t had the time to have a real conversation over the phone. 

We’ll try harder tomorrow.

–

Sunshine: are u kidding me christopher!!!!

Me: What!!!

Sunshine: what are these flowers for??????

Me: Lol. Surprise

Sunshine: i’m gonna cry

Me: Noooo they weren’t supposed to make you sad

Sunshine: i’m happy! this was just so sweet. i miss you sm 

Me: Can you talk?

She FaceTime’s me instantly. I was never a FaceTime kind of guy. Even though me and my brothers are away from everyone we grew up with, I still was never the kind of person to opt for a FaceTime call. 

With her, I’ll always answer a call so I can see her face.

“Hey, pretty girl,” I smile, watching her place her flowers into a clear vase in her kitchen. I lay down on my bed, tucking a pillow under my chin.

“Hi!” she waves. She’s fucking adorable. “This is so cute, Chris. I had no idea you were doing this!”

“That’s the point of a surpriseeeeeee,” I remind her. “Did you see the card?”

“I did,” she nods, smiling big at me. “Very sweet of you.”

I shrug casually. “I try. How was your day?”

She lets out an exhausted sigh. “Good, but busy. I’ve kinda been feeling like shit lately.”

I sit up straight, pushing the pillow I had been laying on out of the frame. “What? Why didn’t you say something?”

“You’re 3,000 miles away,” she reminds me. “What are you going to be able to do?”

“Listen while you rant, give you advice, give you some encouragement,” I list off for her. “What kind of shit?”

“Just the usual–”

“Sunny!” I interrupt her. “You gotta tell me these things!”

“Well, sorry! I didn’t want to text you, ‘Hey, congrats on all the great stuff you’re doing, I’m super depressed and feel miserable all the time and all I want is my boyfriend to come home and be with me.’ That would only make me feel worse.” 

I frown at her. I don’t want her feeling like she’s going to rain on my parade. 

“I’m okay, Chris,” she assures me. “Promise. I wasn’t feeling too well, but I’m better now.”

“Will you tell me next time? I don’t want you to be alone.”

She nods gently. “Mhm, I’ll tell you.”

“I’ll come back by myself if I have to–”

“No,” she interrupts. “You’re going to stay and do your thing because I need to be able to figure this out myself. You can’t run back to Boston anytime I have an issue.”

“Why not?”

She gives me a ‘come on,’ type look, like I’m being ridiculous. “How was your day?” she asks me instead. 

I lift the camera up so she can see me laying in my bed. “Hasn’t started yet.”

I can see her eyes scanning my body closely, her face inches from her phone as she bites her bottom lip. I know she’s staring at my body. We’ve been feeling more risky about things, sending each other suggestive photos. It’s the only way I can really feel close to her sexually. I never thought I would be sending her, of all people, pictures of my hard dick through my underwear. 

The other night she got me good, sending a picture of herself in the shower, her arm covering her tits, but pressing them into her chest enough for them to look plumper than usual. The water droplets on her skin added more to the photo, sending me into a spiral. 

“Whatcha looking at, babe?” 

She smirked at me through the phone. “The underwear poking out of your sweatpants.”

“Yeah?” I asked, pushing my pants down so she could see my underwear fully. I pulled the bottoms of it down more, seeing that it rode up my thighs as I laid down. 

“Jesus,” she sighed, taking me into her room with her.

“Yeah?” 

I set the phone up on a stray pillow across my bed so she can see my entire body. I press my hand into my dick, palming myself lightly. I immediately feel a rush through my dick, forcing me to shove my hand into my briefs to touch myself.

“I miss you baby,” I nod at her. “Miss your sweet face.” 

She watches me as I stroke my dick, whispering softly in that sweet voice, “I miss you more.”

Not a fucking chance. 

“No shot,” I challenge.

“I promise,” she insists, her doe eyes really doing the trick to convince me. 

I hold my dick still in my fist, shoving my briefs out of the way so she can see me. “You see how much you turn me on, baby?” I ask her, hoping she notices how red my tip is right now from the swelling, not to mention the fact that I have precum leaking out of me like I’m touch starved, probably because I am. 

She lays down on her bed, right on her stomach. She mumbles a “fuck,” as she gets comfortable. “You’re so hot.”

“You are,” I smile, stroking myself faster.

I watch as she pulls her jeans off, lifting her ass in the air for me to see.

I pause for a second as I stare at her lower back, the thong hugging her hips in the most perfect way. I’m contemplating booking a flight right now so I can put my handprints all over that ass.

“Ohhh fuck,” I groan, squeezing around my tip with a tight fist. “You’re perfect.” She smiles at me as she watches my motions, now listening to my groaning sounds as I struggle to keep myself casual.

“Does that feel good?” she asks curiously as she turns over to her back.

“Mhm,” I hum. “Not as good as you.”

She lowers the camera to her pelvis, showing me her hand as it glides down her thong, and settles right over her pussy.

“Oh good girl,” I nod. “Show me how you touch yourself, Sunny.” She lowers the camera even further, settling it between her legs on a pillow somewhere a few inches out. I have a clear shot over her fingers burying themselves in her. A loud moan escapes my lips. “Perfect fucking pussy. All mine, right?”

“Uh huh,” she whimpers.

My cock continues to drip, and I quickly spread the precum across my length. “Talk to me baby. Tell me how much you need me,” I taunt as the sound of me fucking my hand fills the room. “My mouth on your swollen little clit, yeah?”

She nods desperately as she rubs herself faster. “I need you so bad, Chris,” she whines for me. “Stretching me out like before.” 

“Yeah?” I ask, mindlessly bucking my hips so I get the illusion of her pussy as my hand right now, hovering above me as my dick buries itself into her. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum baby.” 

I set my phone up next to me, changing the angle slightly so she can see my face and my dick in the same shot. My balls tighten, and I rub them for some sort of release. 

I listen to her pretty moans, using them as fuel to the fire. 

“You’re so pretty, Chris,” she tells me, but I can’t focus on it. I’m moaning so bad, I sound like a fool. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I chant to myself, my face scrunching in pleasure as she continues to try talking me through it, but my ears are fucking ringing as the release floods through me. “Oh! Shit!” I curse loudly, laying my dick on my stomach and rubbing myself through my orgasm, the cum dripping across my abdomen. 

I keep my eyes on her despite how heavy they feel. My breathing is just as bad. “God, keep going baby,” I encourage her, noticing how badly she’s dripping in front of me and I can’t fucking touch her. 

“I’m close, Chris.”

“Uh huh, you got it.”

The sound of her fingers going in and out of her has me ready for another round. I’m half hard, really debating on going again as I watch her.

“Oh god, Sunny,” I breathe out. She looks fucking beautiful. She always does. “My perfect fucking girl.” She bends her knees, the most perfect shot of her pussy as she cums directly in my vision. “Ohhhh there you go.” She starts panting tirelessly as it drips down her hand. “Good girl. Fuck, I wish I was there to lick you clean baby.”

She looks down at the mess she made and says, “Me too.” Once she cleans herself up and settles back in bed, she asks, “When are you coming home?” 

I wipe my stomach clean and pull on a clean pair of underwear. “I don’t know yet, I answer honestly. “Maybe the end of the month.” She nods at me, and I can tell she’s disappointed. “Soon, I promise.” 

“Okay,” she gives me a half smile. “I have to go change for work.”

I nod, disappointed that our call is coming to an end. “Okay. Have a good day, baby. I love you.”

“I love you,” she says, and that’s the last time I talk to her that day. 

– 

The last few days have been rough. We’re back to barely talking. I feel like shit. I feel guilty, but it’s not my fault. I’m trying, I really am. It’s the time zone. It’s fucking everything up. I sleep in, and by the time I’m up and doing stuff, she’s at work and can’t talk. Then she’s going to bed, and we have like… an hour in the day to talk.

I thought we could make this work. I thought things would fall into place. 

I’ve stayed up every night this week trying to think of how to talk to her about this, but I’m too scared. I keep holding back everything that I feel. 

I’m quite literally shaking as I click on her contact, texting her a quick message. 

Me: Hey. Can you talk?

Sunshine: i’m about to go to bed

Me: Please

A photo of her smiling pops up on my phone with her caller ID on top. I answer the call with a deep breath.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” she mumbles. “What’s up?”

“Are you in bed already?”

“Mhm,” she hums. “Long day. Is everything okay?”

No. 

I’ve never been in this position before, and I don’t know how to do this the right way. 

Just rip off the bandaid. 

“I don’t think this is working out,” I say simply. My voice is soft, yet firm.

I hear the rumbling of her bedsheets and then her broken voice. “What?”

Shit. 

That pretty voice that sews me together just ripped me apart. 

“Sunny– I just– I don’t think I can give you what you need,” I say honestly, picking at the subtle rip in my jeans on my thigh. I pull at the fraying material and toss the scraps on the floor. 

“Chris–”

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly, looking at my ceiling. “I just don’t think it’s fair to keep stringing you along if I know it’s not going to work out.”

I know this isn’t what she wants to hear. I think in the future we could work out, but right now, we’re doomed. I don’t want to have this heartbreaking story when we could prevent it. We were in over our heads. 

“We’ll try harder,” she says.

The desperation in her voice is killing me. “I know this is hard.” Fuck, I’m trying to keep myself together so I don’t back out of this. “But I think it’s better this way.” 

“We can make it work, Chris,” she insists.

I shake my head, trying to keep myself from breaking down. “It’s not that easy. You deserve someone who can give you everything you want and need. Someone who can be there for you, emotionally, and physically… and I can’t do that for you right now. It’s so hard for me not being with you. I just want to hold you and be with you and I can’t, Sunny. I want to come home and be with you everyday but I need to be in LA.” The line is silent, and I know she’s going to make this hard for me. I deserve it, but she deserves the truth. “I really want this, but I can’t give it to you right now, and it’s not fair for either of us.”

The only conversations we’ve had this last week are us arguing or sexting. That’s not how this should be.

“How long have you been feeling like this?” she asks hesitantly. I know she’s scared of the answer.

I let out a heavy sigh, my hand running through my hair and tugging on it. “A little bit. I don’t know how long, but I’ve been trying to ignore my feelings and–”

“And you didn’t tell me you were having doubts?!” she asks accusingly. 

“It’s not that I didn’t want to talk about it with you. I just– Fuck, Sunny– This is difficult and–”

“How is it difficult!” she asks. “I’m your best friend. I’m supposed to be the easiest person for you to talk to.”

“I know,” I agree with her, but does she not realize how fucking hard it is knowing that the one person I’m trying to be open with is the person who is going to face the damage? “That’s why it’s so hard. I don’t want to lose you as a friend too.”

She ignores my point. 

“Why did you start a relationship with me then? You started this, Chris.”

I mean, she kissed me, but alright. 

I’m too in shock at her tone and fight for this to think of anything to say. 

“I… I didn’t mean to,” I stumble over my words. “I thought… I don’t know. I thought we could make it work.” 

“Then let’s make it work.”

I roll my lips into my mouth, trying to keep myself from crying. The sound of her voice is destroying me. “Maybe we can, but right now I just need some time to think.”

“How much time?” she asks. 

“I don’t know. A few days, maybe? A week?”

She scoffs. “Chris, if you have to think about if you want me or not then–”

“I said I need time to think, Sunny,” I remind her. “I’m not making any decisions right now.”

“But you’re questioning us to begin with! You said you’ve felt like this for a while so what’s there to think about!”

“Baby–”

“Don’t,” she says sharply. 

I pace my room, a pit in my stomach growing. This is fucking awful. “I said I can’t right now.” 

I hear a soft cry from her end, and I freeze. “Please, don’t do this.”

My eyes well with tears. “I’m so sorry. I really am. But I can’t be in this with you if I’m feeling doubts. I just need to figure things out, and maybe we can work it out.”

Something in her switches and all those tears and sadness turn into anger. 

“So you fuck me after we’re friends for our whole lives. Then you leave without a word. Then you come back and say you’re in love with me, fuck me again, and then leave and want me to move on and be with other people. Oh wait! But then!” she continues. I just stand there in the middle of my room and let her rip me apart through the phone. “You want me to be with you and we’re happy and great and then you drop this and say you’ve been unhappy and want to break up?”

Yeah… So, I sound like shit. 

My eyes narrow as I grip my phone. “That’s not fair,” I say, shaking my head. “I didn’t force you into anything, and I’m not trying to hurt you.” 

“But you made me feel wanted by you!”

“I do want you!” I remind her. “But this isn’t about what we want, it’s about what I need right now.”

She pauses and lowers her voice. “Do you need me?”

I hate myself for the way I hesitate to answer her.

“Yes, I do.”

I can almost hear the sigh of relief in her voice.

“But not in the way you’re asking.” 

Then I hear her cries. At this point, I’m breaking down with her. 

“Is there anything I can do to make this work?” she asks again.

“No. There’s nothing you can do.”

I sit on my bed, listening to her cry, and I feel awful knowing that I can’t wipe those tears like I always do. 

“I love you so much Chris,” she says desperately.

I wipe the tears that fall down my own cheeks. “I love you too, but I can’t be with you like this. Not right now.”

“Are we still going to be friends?” she asks. “Or are you going to go ghost again for four months?”

“I’m not going to ghost you,” I assure her. I fucked up that time, I really did, but I thought it’s what we needed. That time of no contact to figure ourselves out. It clearly made things worse. “I think we need some space though, just for a little bit.”

She’s pissed. It’s obvious. She’s gone from trying to talk me into staying with her, to now saying nothing at all. 

“Look,” I say, trying to keep myself from sounding like a broken record. “I get that you’re hurt and disappointed, but I need to do this. I can’t keep going through this cycle of wanting you and then pulling away from you because I’m scared. I need to get to a place where I feel secure with you and I know we can make it work. Right now, it’s not that time.” 

All I want right now is to hold her, kiss her, tell her it’s going to be okay. I want to lay next to her and smile at her before we go to bed. I want to be with her forever, never losing sight of each other.

But if we keep trying to force this relationship, we’re only going to ruin everything. 

“I wish I could hate you,” she sobs. “I really do. But I could never hate you, Chris, and that’s the worst part.”

“I’m sorry,” I keep saying to her. The pain in my voice only becomes more evident. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“I’m always going to be in love with you, and you’re always going to know it.”

I sigh heavily. “I know. And that’s part of the problem.”

“Why?”

“Because,” I say, pausing to find the right words. “I can’t be with you like this. I need to figure myself out first.” 

“You started this!” she says again. 

“I know.” My voice is heavy with guilt. “And I’m sorry.”

“Are you even upset about this?” she questions. “I’m sitting here fucking crying and it’s like your emotions are shut off! Give me something, Chris!”

“Of course I’m upset!” I raise my voice in frustration. “You want to hear me cry? I never meant to hurt you like this.”

“THEN STOP!” she screams.

“I’M TRYING!” I yell back, my eyes rimmed with tears. “I can’t keep having this conversation. I’m sorry, but we need to break up.”

The line goes silent again. 

“Please,” I plead with her. “Just say something.”

After a minute of silence she says, “I love you, and I hope you can get your shit together. If not for me, then hopefully for the next girl so you don’t fuck her over the same way.”

I sit staring at my floor. I don’t know what to say that will fix this or give her the same hope I feel for us. I do want this. All I’ve ever wanted was her. I just can’t do it right now. It’s not the right time. 

I’ve dreamt of marrying this girl, and the idea of us having the wrong timing is terrifying me. It needs to be perfect, and it’s just not right now. 

“I’m sorry,” I say finally, my voice thick with emotion as I try not to break down again. “I really am.”

I expect more fight from her considering she wouldn’t back down before. 

I don’t get that.

“Goodbye.”

I’m torn between heartbreak, confusion, and anger. 

“Goodbye.” 

tag list : @mbbsgf @mattbrainrot @mattsneezing @r6diosturns @thottie777 @obscurechris @plasticferal @angelworldspost @alluringsturniolo @sleepysturnss @sturniolovoid @struniolos @skyeteller @sturniololol @sturniololoverr @flowerxbunnie @gamermattsgf @lunarsturniolo @luvsturniolo @lacysturniolo @luvmila444 @christinarowie332 @bellybumm @bernardenjoyer @n6ptunova @pepsiskiess @luverboychris @mattitties @sturnioloobsessed @sturnsbaby @sturnsblunt @sturnsreader @sturnsiolos0 @sturnswift

[mangocustard16]

Seventeen’s reaction to you not recognising them when drunk ♡

| genre:fluff

| warnings: mentions of drinking, pet names, cursing, lmk if i missed something

| w.c: 0.7k

| a/n: please reblog if you enjoyed, feedback is always appreciated✿

performance unit version | hip-hop unit ver.

Hoshi:

Seventeen had just clinched a prestigious Daesang award, and you were out celebrating the hard-earned victory with the group.

the night begins with celebratory drinks, as Hoshi's friends convince you to join in the festivities.

and that's it you guys were out, partying hard celebrating your boyfriend's success

although Hoshi had been there too to make sure you didn't go overboard 

what caught him off guard was your unexpected assertion of not recognizing him

"Get your hands off of me you pervert!"

he was shocked, to say the least

but gotta admit, he felt kinda proud seeing you stand your ground and not let some random guy touch you, even if that guy happened to be him.

You turned to Seungkwan, seeking validation and asking him to confirm that this person is not someone you know.

to which Seungkwan awkwardly laughs, caught in the middle of the situation

"Babe, I'm your cute boyfriend"

"Then tell me something only my boyfriend knows?" you question him

He raises his eyebrows and motions you to come closer 

"one time you tried to challenge me to a dance battle, but it turned into a clumsy stumble, and you ended up on the flo-"

you put your hands on his mouth to stop him from revealing that embarrassing story

"Okay, okay! you're definitely my boyfriend"

Jun:

Despite being your boyfriend, Jun finds you unable to recognize him while heavily intoxicated.

the boy is pouting and is offended af

"Come on, shake it off," he said trying to grab your arm to get you out of the club

what caught him off guard was you landing a punch square in his stomach

Jun visibly grimaces, feeling the impact of the punch to his rib

"I know how to box sir, so you better keep your distance," you said walking away

At this point, Jun has no choice but to wait for you to head home by yourself, all he can do is follow you home making sure you get there safely

he woke up the next morning with a huge bruise on his side and for the love of god you couldn't remember a thing 

"Where did you get that bruise from baby?" you asked innocently

The8: 

he tried to play like he was actually hurt by you not recognizing him, but, man, he thought it was so darn cute

he would listen to you ramble about everything in your life, from how your new cat was constantly attacking others to how much your boyfriend loved you

"You know, my boyfriend wanted to name the new cat Pumpkin, but he looks so much like an Oreo, we almost fought but in the end, we named it Oreo"

"Your boyfriend treats you so badly, why would he fight with such a sweet girl like you" Minghao played along

"NOOOO! my boyfriend is the sweetest person in the whole world, don't you dare talk shit about the love of my life," you warned your new friend showing shoving your lock screen of you and Minghao together in his face

He'd chuckle and mumble something along the lines of, "How am I not supposed to love you"

Dino:

Dino got a little pouty when he realized you couldn't recognize him

all he wanted was your affection, but you wouldn't let him touch you, leaving him slightly disappointed

"Babe come on let's go"

"No I don't know you please stop following me, mister" you yelled

poor guy 

he's chasing after you trying to convince you that he's not a threat, in fact he's your boyfriend

"I'm your loving BOYFRIEND babe, do you not recognize me?"

"Why won't I recognize my own boyfriend you creep? Stop following me around." you'd say, slapping his hands away

You took out your phone and called your boyfriend trying to explain that a creepy man was following you around

Dino handed you his ringing phone, showing it to you to convince you that he was indeed your boyfriend.

"Babyyyyy!!! you should've come sooner" you exclaimed, throwing yourself on him, wrapping your arms around him

"I'll always be here for you love," he said shaking his head before planting a soft kiss to your forehead.

@kflixnet @k-labels

[cobragardens]

CORRECTED & UPDATED Clothes + Equivocation = Romance: The Husbands in 1793 (Part 2)

From Part 1:

Crowley and Aziraphale share clothes as a common interest. They don't have the same style, but they're both aware of current fashions, and Heaven and Hell aren't. You can't tell me Hastur or Uriel would recognize the significance of Crowley saying "Dressed like that, he's asking for trouble" about someone else while wearing black stockings and cravat and waistcoat himself. And that means Anything the husbands communicate to each other through clothing choices goes undetected by their masters.

SO. With all this in mind, let's go through the 1793 scene again and look at what the husbands communicate to each other without using words or actions to do it, and how their clothing choices help them do that.

Hello. I'm here and I know you're in a spot of trouble. I like you.

It's you! I'm so happy you're here!

Sheen's voice and face when Aziraphale says Crowley's name in this moment makes me think that Aziraphale is in love with Crowley--the demon Crowley, not the angel who became Crowley--long before he consciously realizes it in 1941. The way Sheen has Aziraphale say Crowley's name is so soft.

The way you're he way you're lounging there and what you're wearing are uncomfortably sexy and also incredibly inappropriate for the Bastille at this moment in history. I suppose this is very on-brand for you.

Crowley: I listen when you talk about your interests and goals and keep track of your general whereabouts and pursuits.

Either they've spoken with each other recently or Crowley has been keeping tabs on Aziraphale. Aziraphale isn't upset that Crowley knows what he's been up to, which suggests the former, which in turn suggests they're in semi-regular (every few years or decades) contact at this point.

Also we've now got a general idea for when Aziraphale opens his bookshop.

Okay, brief tangent while I point out two things here.

One, my favorite thing about Aziraphale is that he is a sensualist. This is libertine behavior, y'all. He 'popped across the Channel' during the Reign of Terror because he wanted a specific carnal experience of a specific really lovely food.

And two, even when Aziraphale does weird, frivolous, silly, ill-advised things like this, things that clearly baffle Crowley...Crowley never makes fun of him. He never laughs at him. He always has this look of disbelief on his face, like Am I hearing this?--

--but Crowley never, not once, shuts Aziraphale down.

Until Aziraphale asks him to go back to Heaven.

Anyway. Back to our scene.

Aziraphale: I am unwilling to abandon my sartorial sensibilities even when it threatens my corporation, and I am insane, so I think this is reasonable. At least I'm not wearing a Slutty Monarchist outfit.

You're happy to see me, aren't you. You're relieved to see a demon. Go on, say it.

Tennant's delivery of this line cracks me up. It is so gloating and flirtatious and smarmy and indulgent of Aziraphale.

I am very happy to see you and lucky you're here, and I am willing to say so sincerely even though you are gloating about it.

And then there's the exchange where Crowley very carefully doesn't answer Aziraphale's question about why Crowley's in the area but also reassures him that he didn't cause the French Revolution and Aziraphale can still like him.

We can't speak openly about this. It's dangerous for me.

Message received: I won't mention what you did again. But I want to show my gratitude and spend time with you; is it safe for us to get lunch together?

Yes, but one of us is going to have to change so we can walk the streets of Paris without getting arrested again, and I'm the one doing the rescuing here so it's not going to be me. Your 'standards' will have to take the hit.

Fine, you've got me over a barrel. But hey, if I have to wear the silly hat anyway I might as well go all the way and wear your colors. Except not monarchist. And not slutty.

Oh, I don't know, I thought you looked pretty slutty too. (Meaning 2) I'm having this guy killed for touching you, btw. I will kill anyone who tries to hurt you. Immediately. I see you are having the guy who assaulted you killed in a copy of the clothes he would have killed you for wearing. I wholeheartedly approve of this (Meaning 3), your sexiness in those clothes notwithstanding. The utter insouciance of Crowley's little sniff and the inquiry about what they'll have for lunch drive home hard that Crowley could not be more unbothered by Aziraphale having the man who tried to harm him beheaded.

What really tickles me about this line is not only that Crowley's joke has three distinct meanings, but that Meaning 1 (the meaning that exists without reference to Crowley's clothes) is the opposite of Meaning 3--Anybody wearing clothes like that deserves what they get (Meaning 1) versus It rocks how you just killed someone who tried to kill you for wearing those clothes (Meaning 3)--and yet because of the clothes he's wearing, both meanings come through with perfect clarity, dependent only on whether the listener(s) can see his clothing and know its significance. Aziraphale can, and does, so he receives Crowley's real meaning. Hell/Heaven can't, and don't, so they just hear Meaning 1.

And then we get Aziraphale's pleased little smile and look of tranquil interest as he watches Jean-Claude dragged off to his death. Its such an interesting facial expression for an angel watching a demon have someone killed having someone killed, isn't it?

Crowley has just told him they're probably being listened to by Hell. That means Aziraphale, Crowley, and the audience all know this is the most Aziraphale can safely react. Aziraphale can't show any overt approval of anything an agent of Hell does, because by definition anything a demon does is demonic and angels must be against That Sort of Thing. In light of the fact that Aziraphale is the one who causes Jean-Claude's death, I now argue that this responsibility not to react too positively to something the other side has done falls on Crowley, and that the reason he makes this joke is primarily to tell Aziraphale I see what you've just done, and I like it without identifying aloud what exactly has just happened for their presumed eavesdroppers because an angel arranging a human's murder is the sort of thing in which head offices might take undue interest.

The awareness that their conversation is not private means the audience and Aziraphale know they need to be watching and listening for multiple meanings from Crowley, and it also means the audience and Crowley know we need to be watching Aziraphale's face closely right now. And that little smile shows us that Aziraphale has received Meanings 2 and 3 of "he was asking for trouble."

Or, at minimum, Meaning 3; even if Aziraphale picks up on Meaning 2--You looked really sexy in your vintage clothes, you crazy weirdo--that's not a message he can afford to react to at all. But he does react to the other coded communication Crowley is sending when he says "Dressed like that, he was asking for trouble" while dressed for trouble himself: I will kill anyone who tries to hurt you. Immediately. People who think your clothes give them the right to hurt you can go to Hell, and I am delighted you just sent one of them there.

You just had someone beheaded for assaulting me, I acknowledge and am pleased by your delight at my cleverness. and I could not be happier. Would you like to come enjoy one of my very favorite sensual pleasures with me?

***

EDIT: To be honest I like this reading better than my original, incorrect understanding of the story despite the fact that it is slightly less romantic, both because I love the idea of Crowley as a thirsty witness to Aziraphale quietly being a vengeful badass, because it gives us a glimpse of something important about Aziraphale's character that we don't get to see elsewhere: Aziraphale doesn't have a problem with killing per se.

We learn from the business with the Antichrist that, like Crowley, Az. can't bring himself to kill children. We learn from his perturbation at the Flood and the Crucifixion that he doesn't hold with killing innocents. He gave away his flaming sword. But this scene establishes that Aziraphale will actively cause someone's death if he feels they deserve it. That seems like an important character note for him that may become relevant in Season 3 (feathers crossed that it happens).

And I think there's something else in there too, something about how Aziraphale kills Jean-Claude, not with outright violence but with a trick. One party thinks he's in control of the situation; with a wave of his hand, suddenly a turnip has turned into an inkwell an executioner has turned into the condemned--or at least it seems that way long enough to get the job done. It's a bait-and-switch, like stage magic, and it slots right in to the motif in Good Omens of sleight-of-hand, of characters wearing other characters' appearances (for more on this, see fan theories re: Maggie is possessed), of supplying false meanings to an audience to disguise the true actions going on behind the scenes.

[sleekswosobession]

death is a funny thing

alexia putellas x fem!reader

prompt: alexia angst on 10/10 out of angst scale - for madres bday

A/N: happy birthday madre @greynatomy ! 🥳🥳 you are now stuck at the restaurant

i cried while making this. i dont cry while writing or reading fanfic.

TW: Death, hurt/no comfort, the thought of me not making a part 2 for this

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

2 weeks. That's what the doctor said. 2 weeks until you're dead and you soul is gone from the earth. How does one hold that infomation? How are they supposed to take it? It's not like anyone's alive to really tell you how to cope or react.

So, you sit in silence. Being taken back to the memories of playing football as a child, being in your national team for the first time. Playing for your senior team for the first time. That first kiss with Alexia which was unlike any you'd had before. The first time you'd told her you loved her, and how she immediately said it back.

All of it would come to an end.

You knew you should've been here weeks ago when you first started feeling off, but you weren't one to go a doctor when something felt bad. Just hoped it would go away unless you knew it was an injury that'd affect your career. The only reason you were in the room was because Alexia dragged you there.

What would have happened if she hadn't?

You stare at the wall in front of you, mind without thoughts. Just the shell of someone who used to be there. You feel bad for Alexia, how would she cope? You knew she had plans of proposing, you just didn't know when. That will all be a dream in only a fortnight.

How much will change by then? Will she push you out like she does with most others? Or will she hold you close, thinking that if she did you wouldn't leave her when you both know that won't happen.

When you do look at her, there's tears streaming down her face. Staining her shirt and falling onto the floor. The doctor leads you both out giving a form of all legal action needed before you die. Who to give your money to, how you want to be buried or cremated.

You wonder how they can say such news then proceed to hand papers while being devoid of any emotion. Maybe they've done it too many times to really feel.

- - - - -

Alexia drives home, eyes still leaking with tears. You're not quite sure how she's driving but you both make it home. You watch her mundane and robotic movements, until she's in the living room. That's her breaking point.

You immediately go to her, wrapping your arms around her without saying a word. This makes her sob harder.

"I can't live without you. Please no." Is all you hear over the sound of her breaking down.

"Alexia." You say, but she shakes her head.

"Alexia look at me." Again, it's no use.

"Ale please." She finally listens, looking up shaking as her lip wobbles.

"When I am gone, you will be sad yes but I trust you'll get over me. I trust you will be even better than you are now. You are the greatest woman I've ever met and you are the strongest. I will be with you here until the end and even when I'm not here physically..." You pause and touch her heart with your hand. "I'll always be with you here, remember that. And if heaven or the afterlife is real, I'll watch over you. I promise." You whisper resting your forehead against her own.

She whails into the evening, you cry along with her. Reality and the fear of death finally sinking deep into your bones. You will die. You can't be here forever.

- - - - -

The next day when training is supposed to be on is when you tell everyone at the club, sadness lingers in the air as you hug your friends. The ones who had become a new family for you. The young players like Salma and Vicky whom you'd baiscally 'adopted' when they joined the senior team. You consoled them along with Caroline (your best friend) the most. Those apart from Alexia being the ones you were always with.

It was decided a farewell dinner would be hosted. The last memories and last time to be with you.

- - - - -

Alexia wouldn't leave your side, you didn't want to leave hers either. The weight she'd carry on herself after this is too much for your own failing heart. You wanted to be with her for the rest of your life, and by that you meant grow old. Not die at 27.

The dinner was as much as anyone would expect it to be. Teary eyes and frowns painted on everyones face. The mourning had started before you left, and somehow that was even more painful.

Your will was mainly going to the football club, with no family left to give it to. Part of it went to investment in womens sports and some went to Alexia. You'd asked to be cremated, 1/3 of your ashes in the new Camp Nou, 1/3 of your ashes to be washed away by the heavy winds at the beach you loved so much, and a third to be with Alexia to do as she pleases. Whether to keep or give to people you held so close.

The end is near, it's relieving in a sense. That all this anxiety toward the date will just go. Everything for you will stop. But, you hate being the reason people are upset. All you'll leave is pain and anguish until one by one your friends heal. Alexia heals.

- - - - -

Today was the day, you're not sure how you know but you do. You wait with Alexia, remembering all good times. No words are said, she's trying to remember every detail in your face. Fearing the she'll forget you.

"Alexia." She takes a deep breath, nodding at you to continue.

"I love you, I love you in everyway possible. I love you in every universe. I love you to the moon and saturn. Never forget me, as I'll never forget you." You whisper, breath shaky as you feel yourself drifting away.

"I could never, forget you amor. You're safer wherever you are next. I love you. More than words could ever convey." Her voice breaks.

You don't want to leave her, why did it have to be like this?

She places her lips against yours one last time. Your eyes close, one last time.

—————————————————————————

well... no part 2. reader will not come back from the dead like melanie martinez

but last night i dreamt i kissed taylor swift so theres that

[leighsartworks216]

Might I request an enemies to friends to lovers with Astarion?

THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A QUICK LITTLE DRABBLE. IT IS ALMOST 4K WORDS. It also became a songfic. The song is "Your Stupid Face" by Kaden MacKay

Also it is 11:20. I am so tired. I do not have the energy to proofread this rn. So it's as good as it's gonna get

Warnings: self-doubt, bickering

Word Count: 3,957

Masterlist

AO3

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I just really hate your face

Though I know that won't surprise you

But, to me, your skin is one giant wart

And your laugh's one big snort

And you stink, so in short

I despise you

You disgrace the human race

'Cause you're more of a mosquito

I would rather have the dentist and drill

Then this swine in the swill

And if you were a bill, I would veto

And if the world was perfect, you would be gone without a trace

But since the world could never be that great

I'll just hate your stupid face

-

Astarion sighed just behind you. You glared over your shoulder at him. Did he really have to be so annoying when you were trying to help? What did he have against doing the right thing?! Or were all high elves as up their asses as him?

The little girl glanced nervously between you, her hands fiddling anxiously with each other. “I-Is that alright?”

You turned back to her with a big smile, though Astarion could see the strain behind it. “Of course! It’s no problem. We’ll find your toy and bring it back before nightfall, how’s that sound?”

“Really?!” Her eyes became wide and excited, bouncing on her feet like there were hot coals beneath it. “Thank you so much!”

You watched as she ran off back to her mother, jumping as she grabbed the woman’s arm and pointed at you. You smiled, genuine this time, and waved to them both. Then, you turned to go back into the woods.

The joy didn’t last long.

“I thought being an adventurer meant slaying dragons, learning powerful spells, gaining power - that sort of thing.” Astarion sighed again, long and dramatic, as he stepped over a branch. “But, no, here we are, armed to the teeth, tadpoles crawling into our minds, looking for a stuffed animal.”

You grit your teeth together and tried to ignore him. The sooner you found the girl’s stuffed bear, the sooner you could stop listening to his whining. “She said she lost it over here, somewhere, but something could have taken it or moved it by now. If we split up, we can cover more ground.”

You could almost feel the way he rolled his eyes. “Oh, great. If I find it, I’m not telling you. And I’m certainly not going to touch it. Gods only know what’s on it.”

“You’re such a child!”

He lays a hand over his chest, looking down his nose at you. “I’m so sorry that I have some dignity left.”

How did you get stuck with such an annoying, self-entitled, brat? 

“Fine! Then I’ll look, and you can follow me around like a lost puppy.” You smiled sickeningly sweet up at him, your whole expression filled with sarcasm and annoyance. “Happy?”

He scowled. “And I have to follow you because…? If you’re so eager for my company, you should just say so, darling.”

You shook your head, facade falling. “You’re impossible.” You stomped off. He could follow you or wait around, you didn’t have the energy left to care.

—

Oh, no

No

I just really like your face

You don't have to look so happy

I'm not really into love that you flaunt

In some glittery font

But if that's what you want

Make it snappy

I just feel so out of place

Well, except for when you're near me

When you're gone, I'm like a plant with no root

Or a song that's on mute

Don't you dare call it cute!

You should fear me!

And if the world was perfect, you would've never invaded my space

But since the world's obsessed with saying, "psych!"

Now I like your stupid face

-

You tilted your head, watching as Astarion held up a mirror. The tadpole kept him from burning in the sun, but it did nothing to bring back his reflection.

“Looking at something?” His voice catches you off guard. It was odd to have someone talking to you with their back turned, even more so when he could see your reflection and you couldn’t see his.

“Just looking,” you tell him. “What are you doing?”

He sighs, forlorn. “I’m looking, too, but not seeing very much. Another quirk of my affliction.”

“Do you miss it?”

He stands and turns while he speaks, finally meeting you face-to-face. “Preening in the looking glass? Petty vanity?” He sighs again. His face looks so droopy and sad, like a puppy left out in the rain. “Of course I miss it. I’ve never even seen this face. Not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red.”

You look at his eyes, really look. It was hard to picture him with any other color. It was a side-effect of his vampirism, but you could go your whole life believing they always were and always had been red. “What color were they before?”

He opens his mouth to answer, then stops. “I don’t know. I can’t remember. My face is just some dark shape in my past.” His face scrunches up in rage as he throws the mirror on the ground. You step back to avoid the shards that break from it. “Another thing I’ve lost.”

You can’t imagine forgetting your face. It’s a rather big portion of who you are, after all. Thinking about looking in a mirror and seeing nothing stirs your stomach like a witch’s brew. You study his face, eyes tracing over every curve and sharp edge and wrinkle. You tried to imagine being him, no longer able to see what you looked like.

Astarion frowns at you. “What?”

“I’ll be your mirror.” The words are out before you can even think them, but a spark of hope flickers in his eyes, and you can’t bring yourself to back out of it now. “What do you want to know?”

“I want to know what the world sees when it looks at me.” He pauses. His voice gets soft, lacking its usual bravado. “What you see.”

He waits as you look at him. You try to figure out what the world sees, versus what you see. The world may see his eyes, sharp and red and keen. The world would see his dangerous smile, full of pretty teeth and sharp fangs, threatening to bite.

But it’s not what you see. You see his hair, paler than freshly fallen snow. You see the way it curls around his ears, how there’s always one stubborn strand hanging by his forehead. You see the wrinkles that crease his face when he smiles, surrounding his mouth and crowding in the corners of his eyes. And you’re startled, trying to figure out how long ago you’d noticed these things about him.

“I see… the creases when you laugh.”

He sneers, placing a hand over his chest. He takes it as an insult when you mean it in the kindest way possible. Without his wrinkles, he wouldn’t be Astarion. “Excuse me? I’m an eternally young vampire, not your doting grandmother.” He huffs. He looks like he wants to stop - never mind what he looks like, he doesn’t want to hear what else you could possibly say. But he continues, “You can do better. What else?” The curiosity wins out.

You wonder if you should tell him the easy answer. Tell him what the world sees. What everyone else sees. But to do so feels like a huge disservice. You inhale, prepared to be scolded once more. “I see the way your hair curls around your ears.”

“This is meant to be flattery, not poetry.” He sighs, creases forming between his brows as he frowns, annoyed. “Just tell me I’m beautiful and we can call it a day.”

“Is that all you want?” You don’t mean to sound as angry as you do. “Shallow praise?”

He scoffs. “Hardly.” He begins ticking off fingers. “There’s also gold, sex, revenge - quite the list, really. But failing any of those, I will always settle for shallow praise.”

You shake your head. “What I see isn’t good enough for you then? The seductive, charming face you put on for everyone else - that’s what you want to know about?” He sneers. He hates how easily you’ve read him. And you hate how much it hurts. You can’t tell if it’s because your words mean nothing, or because he can’t even allow himself a single, beautiful flaw. “The world sees your eyes. They’re strong and piercing. And your smile: Dangerous. They see you for the monster you are. Are you satisfied now?”

You leave before he can answer you. Anger trembles in your fingers, but they’re weighed down with sadness. A conflicting bundle of emotions twists in your chest. You shouldn’t care if all he wants is to be called pretty and move on. You shouldn’t! And you don’t!

But you do…

—

I just really miss your face

Though, by now, I must disgust you

I had tried to be the stubbornest mule

'Cause I knew life was cruel

So I guess I was foolish to trust you

But I wait here just in case

Though I know I'm being senseless

How could I have ever been so naive

And wear my heart on my sleeve

When I knew it would leave me defenseless?

And if the world was perfect, you would be here in my embrace

But since the world denied me one last kiss

I'll just miss your stupid face

-

The sun burned. Truly, honest to gods burned. And he ran. What else was he supposed to do? Bake in the sunlight while everyone else said their teary goodbyes, “We’ll see you down the road”, yadda yadda?

But, he can admit when he messed up.

He should have stayed longer. By the docks. The sun was just beginning to rise, he had plenty of time to slip from one shadow to the next before it was high in the sky. He could have said his goodbyes. He should have.

Already he missed Karlach. He fondly remembers when she hauled him over her shoulder, jostling him about as she ran. He certainly wasn’t too pleased at the time, but now… And he missed her nickname for him. And the banter, and teasing, and… everything.

Everyone had their charms, he supposed. Gale was, well, Gale, but even he wasn’t too bad. And you.

It was hard to admit. He could say he missed the others all day, but you? You who dragged him into the woods to find a stuffed animal for a kid? Who begrudgingly let him have a sip that night he revealed himself? Who yelled at him when he couldn’t bear hearing anything other than he wanted to when you offered to be his mirror? Who hugged him after he killed Cazador? Who helped him save his brothers and sisters and all the other souls whose lives he ruined? Who smiled so sweetly at him?

He couldn’t say it.

After he ran away, cursing and damning the gods for confining him to the shadows again, he disappeared to the Underdark. You’d mentioned how they needed a leader, guidance. And, well, he had nowhere else to go.

He never got to see you run in the direction he left after saying your goodbyes, smiling and excited. Or watch as you search and search for him. How you shout his name. How tears well in your eyes as you realize he’s gone.

And maybe it’s better that way.

—

What are you doing here?

I didn't run away!

It was... it was a strategic retreat

What is there to talk about? It's over—I ruined it

Well, yeah of course I'm sorry, but

No, no, don't forgive me!

Why do you do that?

Why—why give me another chance to mess things up?

Because you—what?

Those three little words

Out of the blue

Completely uncalled for

Especially from you

Why don't you hate me?

Why do you care?

Can't you berate me? Isn't that fair?

Where is your glare?

Don't you dare leave our problems and pain on the shelf!

Because if you don't hate me, I can't hate myself

But that's why I need you

You shatter my fear

'Cause despite my misdeed, you are still right here

Though it's stupid to date me

You're willing to try

And if you don't hate me, then why should I?

Are you sure you don't want to give up on me?

You're a moron

-

The last thing Astarion anticipates is you barging into his home, stomping and angry. The next last thing he expects is for you to throw a cloak in his face. He backs up as fast as you approach, tripping and falling backward over an armchair. It tips back with him and he lands with a thud. When he pulls the cloak off his face, you’re standing over him, still just as pissed as before.

“Ah.” He grins sheepishly. “Hello?”

“You ran away!”

“Yes, yes, I know-”

“You ran away! I went chasing after you and you were gone!”

“The sun! I couldn’t-”

“I know! That’s why I went and got you that damn cloak! And I was going to give it to you on the docks, but you ran away!”

He struggles to get up, grunting as he tries to push the armchair off so he’s not bent in half. You huff and sit the chair upright. Then, you offer him a hand. He’s not sure if he should take it. He’s half-certain you’ll flip him over and crack the floor with his body. But you wave your hand, insistent, and he does not want to piss you off any more, so he takes it. You haul him to his feet.

He holds the cloak out in front of him, studying it with a frown. “Darling, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but clothes don’t actually protect us from the sun.”

“Yes, I’m aware.” You sigh, hands on your hips, but you seem to have cooled off some. “It’s the Cloak of Dragomir. Gale helped me find where it was hidden. I figured, if the tadpole is the only thing keeping you safe in the sun, then after it’s all over, you’d need something else to protect you. So.” You gestured at the cloak.

He was speechless, and perhaps a bit skeptical. It had already been several weeks since the docks, and every day he would be lying if he said he didn’t miss it. Basking in the sun. Lounging in her warmth like a cat as he sleepily flipped through a book. It sounded too good to be true - a simple piece of fabric that could prevent him from turning to ash?

“Are you sure it works?”

You laughed, airily and annoyed. “No, I had a shortage of vampires to test it on at the time. I was going to find out when you tried it on. If it didn’t work, well…” You let out a long breath. You refused to take your eyes away from the cloak. Like looking at him again would bring all the rage and frustration back. “I’m still in touch with Gale. He can help me look for something.”

He spun it around to look at the back. It was a deep purple, with the only remarkable feature being a sort of fur around the neck and shoulders. He could almost imagine it hanging up in a shop.

You cleared your throat. “Put it on.”

“Hardly the best place to test it. The sun doesn’t exactly reach down here.” Still, he unclasped it and swung it over his shoulders.

It was light and breezy, allowing air to move through, but warm enough it kept away any chill - not very concerning for a vampire, but still a nice feature. It reached mid-thigh. He shifted around in it, testing its movement and fit. He bristled when he felt something brush against his arm.

He lifted up the edge of the cloak where he felt it, and his undead heart stopped all over again. There, messily embroidered on the lining in gold thread. Little Star. A poor imitation of embroidered stars surrounded it, forming a sort of faux night sky.

“I did that.” You clear your throat and scratch the back of your head, avoiding his eyes everywhere you looked. Every time you glanced back at him and his dumbfounded face, your cheeks heated up. “I know it’s not as good as yours, but, you know, I thought it was the best way to get a message across.”

His chest was full of emotion. He still had a hard time deciphering it all, even after so long of you carefully teasing them out. But through it all was one resounding question.

“Why?”

You finally made eye contact with him. You frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, this can’t have been easy to get your hands on. You could have sold it when I ran away, but you embroidered it, sought me out… Why? Let’s be honest, dear, we’re not exactly friends.”

“We’re not exactly at each other’s throats either.” It came out harsher than you meant. You took a breath to calm your nerves. “I know we didn’t really get along when we first met - hells, we still argued about everything under the sun with the slightest prompting, but I do care for you.”

His lips quick up slightly. “An unfortunate choice. I’m not exactly the easiest person to care for.”

“No.” You smile, soft and patient. It was hard to look at you now and connect you to the person who barged into his room moments ago. “But I want to. You’re worth the effort.”

—

So you think that we could work?

Here I thought I'd been the dumb one—what?

You're forgiving me for all I did wrong

You're unmuting the song

And, again, I belong to someone

No! You can drop the stupid smirk

Though by now I guess you've earned that

'Cause no matter how intensely I pout

Your stupid face will win out

And I guess it's about time I learned that

And though we go together like a Chanel Nº 5 and mace

At least it's not as dull as fitting like a glove

'Cause you're a nightmare that I've not been dreaming of

But I suppose that when push comes to shove

Fine!

I love your stupid face

-

You tugged Astarion through the city, releasing short apologies left and right to any early-risers you bumped into. He’d tried asking multiple times where in the hells you were taking him, but you never answered. You just shot him a bright smile over your shoulder and kept on running.

Before he knew it, you were at the docks. A light orange hue lined the edge of the ocean, signaling the sun’s appearance. He frowned. “You dragged me all the way out here to watch the sunrise?”

“Yes.” You squeezed his hand. Your eyes were wide and bright and filled with overwhelming glee. “You never got to see it last time you were here. But now you can!”

He scoffed, a grin teasing at his lips. “Darling, we could watch the sunrise from anywhere. We don’t need to be exactly here to do so.”

You rolled your eyes. “Well, no, but it’s more about the principle of the thing. You didn’t get to see that sunrise and say goodbye, but now you can.”

Red eyes scanned the horizon. Oranges and yellows flooded from the ocean-line, chasing away the dark blue of night. He couldn’t deny it was beautiful, but…

He swallowed, frowning out at the sea. He couldn’t look at your face as he asked, quietly, too afraid to actually put the words out there, “So this is goodbye?”

The edge of the star poked her head out. He’d enjoyed watching the sunrises and sunsets during your adventure. He would welcome her touch onto his skin every day, grateful for even just a brief moment to be able to feel her warmth again after 200 years. And every night he would mourn her loss, a seed of fear planted deep within that any sunset could be his last, before he would be contained to the shadows forever. He never got to savor the last one. The one time he wasn’t prepared to go gracefully into that night.

“It doesn’t have to be,” you whisper back. If you hear the shuddering breath he lets out, you don’t say anything. If you see the tears building at the corners of his eyes as he turns to look at you, you don’t point it out. “I can stay. With you. If you want.”

“I couldn’t ask that of you.” But I wish I could. He wants nothing more than to be selfish. To take every single scrap you offer him and give nothing back.

You release his hand only to better tangle your fingers together. Your thumb runs along his palm. “You wouldn’t have to.”

“You’d be living in the shadows most of your life, even with this,” he lifts the edge of the cloak to make a point.

“Okay.”

“You wouldn’t be able to go on adventures. You wouldn’t be able to find someone else, have a family, live your life.”

“Okay.”

“Why are you so willing to give up everything for me?”

You raise your free hand to his cheek. It’s haloed by the red-orange light of the sun. He hates the way he leans into it without a second’s hesitation.

“Is it so hard to believe that I’d stay because I want to be with you?”

He opens his mouth, shuts it again, and tries to find the words. Strained, he chokes out, “Yes.”

“My lovely little star, even without the cloak, I’d stay in the shadows with you for eons. Adventure would be empty without you by my side. There is no one else I could bear to put up with besides you.”

He takes a breath and closes his eyes. It’s hard for the words to sink in, but he urges them to. Staying with him would not be a burden. He is not a burden. He holds your hand to his cheek, pressing it tighter against his skin. By the time he opens his eyes again, the sun is halfway risen.

“I’m not good at… this. Whatever this is. I have no idea how to do anything more than what I had to do. I have no idea what will happen.”

You smile. “Now that sounds like an adventure.”

He chuckles. The knot in his heart loosens. When had you turned from an annoying thorn in his side to this? How long ago had you wormed your way into his soul? What would he do without you?

He feels like he’s just been thrown downstream - caught in the current and waiting for it to burn. He’s uncertain as he leans forward slightly, experimentally. You let him come to you; you wait patiently and smile at him encouragingly until he rests his forehead against yours.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

The sun warms his skin as he lets go of the guilt holding him back. He’s a mess. He’s still working through his emotions with Cazador, trying to find footing amongst the spawn in the Underdark, trying to be good enough. And here you are saying he already is.

He catches your lips and allows himself to forget for the briefest moments that this is a terrible idea. How can he possibly think this is wrong when you sigh into his mouth and pull him closer? How can this possibly be wrong?

The reds, oranges, and yellows fade from the sky. Bright blue dominates the sky. And everything is okay.

---

Tag List:

@satelliteapotheosis @hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @lynnlovesloki @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @mheerdraws @kindadolly @httyd-chocolate @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @chesb0red

[zorrasucia]

Teach Me Tonight - Part 7

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Deleted Scene] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] Part 7: [Deleted Scene] [Part 8]

Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)

Rating: Explicit (3k)

Tags: Smut, Set sometime after the opening of The Bear, Porn with a little plot, Virgin!Carmy, Fluff, Miscommunication, Angry Sex, Nightmares, Domesticity, Morning Sex, Mutual Masturbation, Both Carmy and Reader have a bit of a praise kink

Summary:

Glimpses of every day life and sharing an apartment with Carmy.

"I'm sorry, okay? I am! I won't use your ingredients without asking- just- please calm the fuck down!"

Your small argument from closing time had escalated on the way home to the point where you were screaming at each other by the time you slammed the apartment door behind you and followed Carmy to the bedroom. You had fought before, of course you had. But this was probably the worst one so far.

Carmy stood on the opposite corner of the room, hands on his hips, breathing heavily.

"Do you know how fucking expensive imported black garlic is?"

"I don't, but I have the feeling you're going to tell me," you spat, petty, the whole sentence leaving a bitter taste inside your mouth. You backtracked."I'm sorry. I'll pay for it, okay?" you tried to appease him even as your blood was boiling. "Listen, when I moved in, I was ready to make some compromises. I downsized my closet, I sold some furniture-"

"I didn't ask you to do any of that," Carmy interrupted you.

"Carm," you gave him a stern look. "I'm only saying that you could be more understanding about shit like this. We share the fridge and the pantry. I'm sorry I assumed I could use the stuff inside without asking, it will not happen again," you repeated, then inhaled deeply. "Just- I can't help feeling this isn't about that."

Carmy looked red in the face, angry like you had only seen him inside the kitchen, pacing and flexing his fingers. You couldn't believe he was actually losing his shit so severely over a steak and some garlic - even if it was a super expensive steak and black garlic.

He looked at the ceiling. "It is about you touching my shit without asking. It is about you leaving your things on the kitchen table when I need it to work-" he clenched his jaw. "I'm sick and tired of not knowing where anything is in my own fucking apartment!"

You had organized the closet to fit your stuff, and  put Carmy's vintage denim and your bigger dresses in storage. You still had to get a desk for your sewing machine and work stuff, in the meantime it had stayed on the kitchen table, which, in your defense, had remained unused for most of your stay.

"Why didn't you say anything?" you asked in exasperation. "I've been living here for three weeks! You could have said something instead of bottling it up until it was-" you gestured vaguely in his direction, "whatever this is!"

"I like you being here, I didn't want to scare you off!" Carmy groaned.

"Carm, did you think I would leave if we didn't agree on where the shirts are supposed to go?"

He shrugged. "Dunno. Dunno!"

"You can tell me things, Carm!" you crossed the room until he was close enough to touch. His eyes looked like the sky before a storm. "You can tell me anything."

"Then why are you so fucking mad?" he said defiantly.

"Because I don't like when you yell at me like I'm just another chef in your fucking kitchen," you said, it was something you had been keeping quiet since your fight started. "I'm not getting paid to put up with this shit."

It struck Carmy completely quiet. And you regretted it the moment it left your lips. You had almost found some middle ground and you had trampled all over it. He took a step closer and stared at you, his eyes dark and angry, the space between you felt charged.

Before you knew what was going on, he grabbed you by the back of the neck and kissed you roughly, biting on your lips, mouth wide open. You pressed on his chest with your hands - you were still too mad at him. But his hands were strong and his tongue was relentless and you could feel yourself getting wet from the mixture of anger and lust - and who knew those two emotions were so close to each other?

"Fuck, I can stop," he said, barely separating his lips from yours, breathing hard. "You want that?"

You pulled on his shirt, bringing him towards you, kissing him back with just as much fervor. Then, using that same grasp, you moved him to the edge of the bed and pushed him hard, his curls bouncing as he fell on his back.

"I want you to fucking apologize, Carmen," you climbed on top of him, straddling his waist. You leaned over and trapped his wrists with your hands, above his head. Even putting all your strength into it, he could wiggle himself free at any moment, but he didn't; he stayed down and looked at you hungrily.

"I'm sorry," he said, a little too cocky for your taste, a smirk barely hidden on the side of his face.

You ground your hips against his, feeling his cock harden underneath you. He rolled his eyes and arched his neck. He looked beautiful, like a marble statue.

"What was that?" you asked, stopping your movement abruptly and getting close to his face.

He whined. "I'm sorry," and it sounded more truthful this time.

"Mhmm, that's more like it."

You kept holding both of Carmy's wrists with one hand, while the other moved downward, going underneath his shirt and playing with his nipple, massaging and pinching gently until he closed his eyes and hummed in bliss. Then you stopped.

"Fuck you," he said, letting out some leftover venom from your fight. 

You smirked - why was this so hot?

You got your answer immediately after, when Carmy got free and turned you over, fast and aggressive, like he rarely was in the bedroom. He caged you with his arms and legs, all taut muscle and shaking breaths.

"What about you?" he said, his voice low.

"What about me?" you tilted your head. "I apologized like ten times, Carm. And I meant it."

"You said some fucked up things just now," his breath tickled your face as he studied you from every angle, like he was a wild animal and you were his prey.

"I did," you admitted. You arched your neck, trying to get close and... What? Kiss him? Bite him? You weren't sure. He put one hand on your throat, not quite a caress, closing his tattooed fingers around it. You squeezed your thighs together, blood flowing with need. "I meant some of that too."

"Which part?"

"That I don't like when you yell at me," you said honestly, the moment a little cheapened with how horny you sounded.

"That all?" Carmy's voice had turned hoarse from screaming and you wished you didn't find it so attractive.

"Yeah," you exhaled.

"Good," he said dryly and got up, freeing you, but you remained immobile.

Suddenly, he yanked hard on your jeans and underwear, leaving you bare in seconds.

"Fuck, Carmy."

You hated how needy you sounded, how wrecked you felt as he licked his hand and finally put his fingers inside you, how good he was at making you crumble... You let out a pleading and pathetic sound as he touched your clit roughly and finger fucked you a little too hard.

Then, he took his fingers out without a warning, leaving you empty and out of breath; his hands ghosted the insides of your thighs. You grabbed at his wrist, begging to be touched again. Carmy climbed on the bed instead, hovering above you, kissing you ferociously.

"Eager?" he teased when you started raising your hips to rub on his jeans.

"Impatient," you replied, trying to wind him up.

It worked - his eyes darkened again.

"Hands above your head," he ordered and you obeyed. He took your shirt off carelessly, your bra was almost spilling out with how forceful he was being but he didn't bother taking it off. The whole thing was angry, urgent, and so fucking hot. Carmy was undoing his belt and you used the pause to scoot backwards, just enough to reach your bedside table.

"Hurry the fuck up!" You threw a condom at him, hitting him square on the face.

Carmy gave you a look that was half exasperation, half amused lust. He unbuttoned his jeans just enough to take his cock out, then threw the empty wrapper back at you. He grabbed your legs and dragged you closer, forcefully, the duvet wrinkling underneath you.

"I swear I'm gonna-"

You didn't let him finish. You fisted the collar of his t-shirt and brought him down to kiss, biting on his lower lip, then soothing with your tongue. You opened your legs wide and tugged at the belt loops of his jeans - there was something arousing about him being almost completely clothed and you being almost naked.

"Fuck me, please, fuck me," you begged into his mouth, way past any sense of pride you had at the beginning of the fight. Carmy wasn't any better, rushing to obey the moment you said it.

"Fucking need it," he groaned as he entered you. It wasn't clear if he was talking about you or him - not that you had time to think about it before he started pounding into you. You felt every inch of Carmy's cock as it went in and out.

"So fucking good," you rasped to the side of his face. It spurred him on and made him go faster and harder - your moans got louder and louder. He covered your mouth with his hand.

"The fucking mouth on you," he mumbled low. You clenched your pussy in retaliation and watched as he rolled his eyes and lost his rhythm. "Holy shit, you're gonna kill me."

You ran your hands under his shirt, tracing the contour of his muscles, feeling them quiver and strain as Carmy tried his damnedest to keep going, one hand on the mattress and the other keeping you quiet. Part of you smiled in satisfaction knowing he was getting tired and wouldn't last.

"Shit. Fuck me," he whined and stopped for a moment, sweating and panting. He finally uncovered your mouth, conceding defeat.

"Want me to take over?" you asked with a chuckle.

Carmy sighed and fell on the mattress beside you. "Still mad at you," he said, the sound pitiful with how hard he was breathing.

"Good to know," you climbed on top of him, straddling, lowering yourself on his cock, making him arch his back with pleasure. "I'm still mad too."

You rode him mercilessly, your hips slamming against his, hands on his chest, his eyes marveling at the bounce of your breasts. You took him right to the edge and left him hanging, the veins of his neck bulging as he groaned in frustration.

You clicked your tongue, swaying gently. "Not coming until I do."

"Yeah?" he arched his eyebrows, taking the challenge for what it was.

His hand moved from gripping your hip to where your bodies connected, his thumb finding your clit and caressing it. Your legs shook involuntarily, a spark going through you.

He grinned.

"Oh, fuck you," you sighed, your neck arched, looking at the ceiling while you bounced on his cock. He knew just what he was doing - making you tremble and moan with every gentle touch.

"Come on," he urged you, meeting your thrusts, fucking into you, hitting your G spot almost by mistake.

"Fuck," you gasped, biting your lip to stop from screaming.

You rode him much faster, something desperate and feral taking over you. Carmy's eyes widened when your walls started fluttering around his cock.

"Are you-? Can I-?" he asked in a choked out voice.

"Yes, yes," you managed to say, squeezing the wrist of the hand that was touching your clit so deliciously as your orgasm started taking over every one of your senses. "Yes, Carmy."

He tensed underneath you, flushed all over, eyes closed, and his lips forming a beautiful 'O'. You stared, waiting patiently for him to open his eyes.

He looked up at you, soft, grateful, a smile curling his lips.

"C'mere," he beckoned you downwards, meeting you with relieved kisses, breathy laughter filling the space between you. He caressed your back, tugging on your bra straps until you were somewhat covered again. The tenderness of the gesture warmed you all over.

"You okay?" Carmy asked and you nodded, nuzzling your nose against his in the process. A pause. "Hey. I am sorry. I was angry and-"

"I know," you fixed his hair, all sweaty and sticking on his forehead. "I'm sorry too."

He kissed your shoulder lovingly.

"I like you being here," he said. "I just- I need time to figure it out. That okay?"

"Yeah," you traced the line of his nose with your finger. "We'll figure it out together, baby."

You kissed him sweetly and he rolled you over to your side.

"I'll go to the thrift store tomorrow," you said, cupping his face. "Buy a desk and shit."

Carmy smiled. "I'll fix the pantry. Put labels on my shit. Make room for your things."

"I think that's the most romantic thing you've said to me," you joked, giggling when he tickled your sides.

"Shut the fuck up!"

He laughed with you, leaving kisses on your face and throat.

~

You woke up to the sound of Carmy talking in his sleep. Most of it was gibberish, quiet mumbles as he thrashed on the bed, the one word you could make out was 'Mikey' - over and over. He winced and let out a pained sound. You got closer and held him, your arm across his chest.

You knew he had nightmares, you'd been there for a couple of them, but sleeping every night with him meant you saw much more of it. It broke your heart how many you had missed, how bad he hurt...

"It's okay, Carmy," you soothed softly. "I'm here, baby, it's okay."

He woke up with a startle, breathing fast.

"Fuck, sorry," he sat up and ran his hands over his face. "Bad dream."

"I know," you waited for him to settle, giving him space.

After a while, he laid back next to you. You moved slowly, gently, touching the side of his face and caressing his hair, calming him down.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Uh," Carmy looked up at the ceiling, blinking hard, "there was a fire. Just so much smoke," he cleared his throat. "And, uh, Mike was there." There was a long pause. "Did I ever tell you he planned to set the restaurant on fire?"

"What?" you froze.

He hummed. "To cash the insurance money, you know," he reached for your free hand, intertwining your fingers and bringing them close to his chest; his heart was pounding.

"I'm sorry, Carm," you waited for him to say something but he stayed silent, vacant. "It feels so weird that I never met him."

"Probably for the better, to be honest," he said dryly. There was something dark about the way he said it.

"Hey," you squeezed his hand, trying to ground him. "What'd you like about him?"

"About Mike?" he said looking at you. "Uh- He was warm. He told the best stories, took care of Nat and me, gave the best hugs... A real big brother, you know?"

You nodded.

"Started getting tattoos because of him," he said, flexing his hands to show the ink on them. "He was so cool, and I wanted to be that."

"I think you're pretty cool," you said sweetly, kissing his knuckles.

"Thanks," he said through a sad smile. "Richie says he was all wrong by the end of it..."

"Wrong how?"

"He wasn't warm anymore, he was, uh, like a fryer fire, I guess. His stories didn't make sense. Kept forgetting shit. A mess, you know?"

"Maybe that's why he pushed you away," you said softly. You knew Carmy felt guilty for his time in New York. "He wanted you to remember him like he was before."

"Maybe," he conceded, looking up at the ceiling.

You stayed like that for a while, caressing his arm, tracing lines on his skin.

"Would you-" he said, then stopped.

You turned to face him. "Yes?"

"Would you hold me?" Carmy asked, his blue eyes open and vulnerable.

"Of course," you smiled and shifted on the bed to spoon him, his back to your chest, your arms around him, leaving gentle kisses on his shoulder blade. You could feel his heartbeat settle as he went back to sleep.

"Love you, Carm," you said right before you drifted off.

~

You woke up to the feeling of Carmy kissing your face softly. You hummed, content. When you opened your eyes, the bright light of late morning was all over your bedroom.

"Didn't hear you coming in last night," you said, your voice raspy with sleep.

"Got in late. Bad day," he raised his hand to touch your hair, staring at the way it caught the light. "Nat forced me to take today off."

"That bad?" you asked, a little concerned.

Carmy moved his fingers to the worry lines on your face, soothing.

"Not really. Someone talked about work life balance in her last Al-family meeting and she's all about that shit right now," he smiled. You loved to see how he looked soft with sleep, relaxed for a little while.

"Have I told you I really like her?"

"You might have," he said playfully, then leaned over to kiss you. It was a gentle thing, his lips lazy on yours and his body flushed as he hugged you.

You took his shirt off, not out of lust, just wanting to get more warmth from his skin on yours. You slowly started kissing his tattoos. You liked the ones on his arms and hands; they were familiar, whenever you thought of Carmy it was the image you conjured. But you loved his other tattoos, the ones nobody else saw, the secrets he kept and only shared with you. You left kisses on his shoulder and his chest, running your fingers on the ink on his ribs and right above his hip bone.

"I've missed you, Carm," you confessed.

It had been a hectic couple of weeks. You had barely seen each other, mostly just sleeping on the same bed, saying good night and good morning before each of you left for work.

"Missed you too," he replied.

His hands roamed your body, tugging gently at the fabric of your sleep shirt, helping you out of it, all while kissing you. You melted in his arms, pliant as he rolled you over and started leaving pecks on your skin.

"Carmy," you sighed. His lips left imprints on your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, and your chest. He stayed there, kissing the top of your breasts, the side, the valley between them, and your nipples. Your pulse was racing and you wondered whether he could feel it with his mouth.

"You're so soft," he said, his exhale giving you goosebumps. "Smell so nice."

"You smell nice too, baby," you giggled. Carmy's hair still had a lavender-like scent from his night shower.

"Mmm..."

He kept kissing. Your belly, your hip, the wrinkle that formed between your mound and your thigh. There was something so like devotion in the way that he moved; it wasn't about filling some selfish need to get his dick wet, he wanted you to feel loved.

"C’mere," you called him back up, to kiss his lips fervently, your hands buried in his hair. When you parted, he smiled, his eyes were still sleepy. He looked so comfortable, so soft...

Your hand traced again that tattoo on his hip, then moved downward, to the hair on his navel, and lower, touching him over his boxers. He was half hard, his nose buried in your neck. When he groaned, his chest rumbled against yours.

"So nice," he said. "’m too fucking tired to fuck you like you deserve, though."

Your free hand caressed the back of Carmy's neck, holding him closer.

"Just want you to relax, make you feel good," you whispered, moving the hand on his cock back and forth, slow, loving.

He moaned, then shifted a little on the bed. You didn't realize why he was moving until his hand snaked its way inside your shorts.

"Oh," you squirmed a little at the feeling of his fingers.

"Too cold?" Carmy asked.

"No, it's okay," you leaned to kiss him. "It's okay," you repeated.

You kept on touching and kissing, everything in that sort of clumsy haze, one of your legs over his. You needed this: being with him without the rush of being late, no urgency, no fucking as fast as you could before Carmy had to run to the restaurant. You had all the time in the world - you could count the freckles on his face and stare at the blue in his eyes as he mumbled sweet nothings into the morning air.

His free hand touched your wrist, guiding it to the head of his cock, the sluggish rhythm you had set just enough to make him roll his eyes and kiss you hard, drowning a whine against your lips as he released.

"Love you so much," Carmy mumbled.

You kissed the side of his face. "I love you, I love you," your voice came out choked and high.

Without you noticing, the constant massaging between your folds had built up too. You came with a long exhale, closing your eyes for a moment, lightly squeezing his side.

"Wanna stay here forever," he said after a while of just looking at you and caressing your back.

"Just sleeping and fucking all day," you replied tiredly.

"I'd like that."

~

[Deleted Scene]

[Part 8]

~

@th3h0nkz @faephoria @wadupppp

[ephemeral-among-the-stars]

Hi there darling, saw your requests open, so I decided to slide in like the snail i am

Aventurine x reader arguments ansgt to fluff

BUT! if you're not comfortable with that, you can also write

aventurine X reader whos love language is also gift giving (like his) and reader likes to receive gifts too but feels guilty when aventurine spends too much money on them

Risking too much (ft. Aventurine)

Pairing: Aventurine x reader

Tags: angst to comfort, established relationships, slightly dark themes

Warnings: spoilers for 2.1 (mentions of Aventurine's real name), non-native english writer, might be OOC

A/N: Thank you for your request! ♡ It took some time to write, I was insanely busy the last few days, sorry qwq Don't know if this is what you wanted, but I've tried my best

-`♡´- MASTERLIST -`♡´- 

Aventurine is constantly putting everything on the line, even himself.

Needless to say, the constant risk intertwined with his life was making you terribly anxious every day. You knew that he was scared for his life, too, waiting for the fortune to leave him at any moment.

One of his recent missions was supposed to take no more than a day. "It should be a piece of cake", he said. But in the evening you were still alone, staring at the phone screen with a dozen unanswered messages. Aventurine had been online that morning, not so long after he left, but you hadn't heard from him since.

Just a horrifying emptiness.

Three long days passed before he showed up on the doorstep of your shared home, absolutely exhausted. Needless to say, you hadn't eaten or slept much the whole time, checking your private messages every now and then.

"Hey, love…" he was trying to hide his own storm of different emotions behind his usual smile. "I'm sorry, I…"

But you didn't let him finish.

"You disappeared for three days! Three!" there was so much pain and despair in your voice that every word felt like a stab to his heart. "I thought you were dead!"

To be honest, he thought he was going to die too. Maybe he lied a little about the complexity of the mission so as not make you worried, hoping that he'd get lucky and everything will end much quicker.

"Not everything went according to plan," he was ashamed to hide anything from you, even the gruesome details. "There were… Problems with some hostile people who didn't want to negotiate with IPC representatives."

"Like?.." you asked, preparing for the worst.

"Like... I was captured and they really wanted to get rid of me. But… They didn't succeed. Everything's okay now, right? I'm here. And I'm alive," Aventurine tried to smooth things over, but judging by the way tears started rolling down your cheeks, he didn't succeed either.

"Everything's okay, you say? After you nearly died?!"

His facade immediately dropped. Aventurine pressed his lips tightly together, realizing how much stress was weighting not only on him, but on you too every time. And he couldn't blame you for reacting so emotionally.

If you suddenly disappeared from his life without a word, he'd go insane.

"I'm sorry."

"I don't want an apology!" you sobbed. "I want to know that my beloved is alive and safe, that I won't have his corpse brought home to me! I'm tired of not knowing where you are or if you're okay."

Aventurine knew you had every right to be angry, to scream and cry. He just held you in a tight embrace, silently listening as you expressed everything that had built up inside you over the past three days, still repeating how sorry he was for leaving you worried.

Slowly but surely, your anger subsided, leaving only a heavy feeling somewhere in your chest. You were still crying, hiding your face in his chest. But a great weight had been lifted from your shoulders anyway.

"Please, Kakavasha," you felt him flinch at the mention of his name. "Please be careful. I don't know how I will survive without you if something happens. I've almost gone crazy these days, not knowing what to expect."

Aventurine could understand your feelings. The whole time he'd been held hostage, his thoughts were all about you, about how worried you must be, waiting for him to return.

"I won't leave you alone, no matter what, I swear," Aventurine whispered back. "I was blessed to meet you. No way I'd do anything to lose you."

You were still holding him tightly in your arms, trying to calm your racing heart. Oh, Aeons, there was no way you were going to let him get out of your embrace anytime soon.

"I'll take a few days off... A week. We can spend all this time together, alright?" he continued, gently rubbing your back. "Just you and me, doing whatever you like."

As you slightly nodded, he let out a soft sigh. How lucky he was for having you, the only person alive who really cared about him no matter what. And how ungrateful he was for keeping you worried all the time.

"Good. I've been missing you so much."

© do not repost, translate or modify without permission

[sidekick-hero]

(steddie | mature | 2k | tags: established relationship, post-s4, Valentine's Day, Robin is the best, fluff | summary: Steve loves Eddie, he really, really does. He just can't say it. | @steddielovemonth prompt Love is just a four-letter word by @sal-si-puedes | AO3)

"He probably thinks I don't love him, Robin. Which is... ridiculous. I do! I really, really do. I just can't say it." Steve is pacing around the blissfully empty Family Video Store, his hands making a mess of his hair as they run through it in frustration.

"This is so stupid. I* am* so stupid, it's just four stupid letters, even a preschooler can say it," he rambles, his eyes wild as they look at Robin. "Why am I like this, Robbie?" His voice breaks, along with his heart, at the thought of Eddie doubting Steve's feelings for him for even a second.

Robin walks over to him and grips his shoulders tightly, her blue eyes boring into his as she says in her firmest you-listen-to-me-now voice. "You're not stupid. This is my best friend you're talking about, so watch it." That earns her at least a half-smile, which counts as a victory considering Steve was already pinching his nose to hold back tears.

"I know you love him, Steve. Everyone knows it. One look at you when he's in the room, or even when you're just talking about him, is enough to know you love him. And I'm sure Eddie knows it too. He has to."

Robin's words soothe some of the fear in Steve's heart, knowing that she would tell him if she really thought he had messed up. But even though it's okay now, Eddie won't wait forever for Steve to say those three little words. No one would. Steve knows that his heart couldn't take being with Eddie, loving Eddie and telling him that, only to never hear it back from him.

"I don't know. Even if you're right, I feel like I'm losing him. That something in me is broken, and one day he'll realize that too, and then he'll leave." With an even smaller voice Steve adds: "I can't lose him, Robbie".

They don't hug very often. Robin shows her affection in many ways, but most of them aren't overly physical. That's Eddie's job, clinging to Steve like a koala most days, always touching Steve in some way, even if it's just his shoulder nudging Steve's. Robin pulling him into a tight hug now means a lot to him, but it's also a testament to the gravity of the situation.

With their arms around each other between the horror and action movie sections, Steve takes a moment to just soak in the comfort she offers. What happened at Starcourt messed them both up, caused them both more trauma than any teenager should have to deal with, but on a very selfish level, Steve can't help but be grateful that it happened. A life without Robin Buckley sounds like the greater horror to him.

After a few minutes, Robin gently pulls away from Steve to look at him. He's reluctant to let her go, even though he knows this is an even longer hug than the one she gave him when Nancy told him they weren't getting back together after defeating Vecna. She wanted to go to Boston, make a career, see the world. And Steve? Steve wanted a home, a place to belong, and someone to share that home with. They wanted different things, he realizes now.

That doesn't mean it didn't open old wounds, memories of how it felt to be rejected by her, his love for her thrown in his face like it was worthless. Bullshit.

As attuned to him and his thoughts as ever, a true testament to the fact that they share a brain cell, Robin says, "I think it's understandable that you can't say it. The last time you told someone you loved them, you were hurt, badly. Your heart is probably just trying to protect itself. Like a kid who touched a hot stove and got burned wouldn't touch another stove, you know?"

Steve nods, because in a way it makes sense. It just doesn't help him to know.

"But what am I supposed to do, Robin? It's not Eddie's fault that I'm broken."

"You, Steve Harrington, are not broken. Just a little bruised. There is nothing wrong with you just because you got hurt and have the scars to show for it. Like Max, because of the injuries to her leg, she cannot walk like she used to before Vecna, so she uses her crutch. She's not broken. Is she?"

"No, of course not. If anything, she's even stronger now, I saw her hit Lucas with the crutch and tell him to hurry up on the way to the movies," Steve says, smiling at the memory.

"See!" Robin waves her hand at him in excitement, almost bouncing with it. "All you need is a crutch!"

They look at each other wide-eyed before matching smiles break out on their faces, Robin's giddy at having found a solution, Steve's reflecting the tentative hope blossoming in his chest.

His talk with Robin certainly helped, but as Valentine's Day approaches, the fears and insecurities start to creep back in. It's not even like Eddie is giving him any indication that he's not happy with Steve or their relationship. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Eddie tells him he loves him almost every time they see each other, at the most random moments. Some days he whispers it in Steve's ear to wake him up, other days it's his way of saying good night to him with his arm around Steve's waist and his hand over Steve's heart in a protective grip. He says it casually when Steve brings him breakfast in bed or lunch to the record store where he now works. Just yesterday he said it while Steve was buried deep inside him, their hands intertwined beside Eddie's head and brown eyes looking softly up at Steve.

It's not meant to make him feel bad about himself, he knows that.

He still does.

So when he opens his front door to the sight of Eddie standing on his doorstep in his nicest jeans and a forest green button-down Steve has never seen before, clearly having put some real effort into his appearance, Steve almost crumbles.

He's a shitty boyfriend, isn't he? There's this amazing guy who goes out of his way to look nice for Steve, even though he doesn't even like Valentine's Day, just because he knows it's important to Steve. And he can't even tell him he loves him.

Some of what he's feeling must be showing on his face, because Eddie's cheerful smile falls and he hurries into the house to pull Steve into his arms, slamming the door shut with his foot.

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry, I told Dustin green wasn't my color, but he insisted. I look hideous, don't I?"

That makes Steve snort wetly into Eddie's neck before muttering a fond "Idiot" into it.

Eddie just hums, obviously pleased with himself for making Steve laugh. "You can tell me. You know I don't mind getting naked for you."

"You're getting a little ahead of yourself, aren't you?"

Eddie grinned wolfishly at him. "I don't know, the tear in my Hellfire shirt from when you ripped it off me begs to differ."

Steve blushes at the memory, even as he laughs at Eddie's words. Instead of saying anything else, Steve pulls him back into his arms and Eddie goes willingly.

"Hi, baby," he says, his nose brushing behind Steve's ear.

"Hi." Steve breathes him in, the smell of cigarette smoke and his shampoo strong where his nose is buried in Eddie's hair.

They don't let go for a long time.

It's Eddie who pulls back first, and Steve does his best not to read into it. "You want to tell me what's going on?"

The Steve from before the Upside Down would have just shaken his head and told Eddie that everything was fine before pulling him into the bedroom to reassure them both that it was. Not talking about his feelings, fears, and needs might have worked for hookups, but he learned the hard way that it doesn't work when you want to be in a relationship.

So Steve takes Eddie's hand and leads him over to the couch where they both sit facing each other. They don't let go of each other's hands.

"I know you're probably wondering why I haven't told you... why I haven't said it yet."

Eddie's eyebrows disappear behind his fringe. "It?"

Sighing, Steve watches his fingers run over Eddie's knuckles. "You know. That I love you."

"Oh."

It's hard to place Eddie's tone, and even harder to place the silence that follows, but it makes his knee jiggle with nerves and his stomach churn. Usually it's Eddie who tends to fill the silence between them when it feels too big, too heavy, but today it's Steve.

"It's not because I don't want to, I swear. It's just," another frustrated sigh, the hand currently not held by Eddie's rubbing over his face, "I just can't say it. And I am so, so sorry, because you deserve to hear it. Every day. But I can't... I can't. So I understand if you don't want to do this anymore. You deserve better, Eddie. You really, really do."

Eddie lets Steve's words settle between them, aching and raw, but he never lets go of Steve's hand.

"You're right," he finally says, and the sound of Steve's heart breaking is deafening to his own ears. Pinching his nose, he tries to take his hand back from Eddie, but his boyfriend (if he can still call him that) won't budge. "You're right about me wondering, Steve. But that was before."

Looking up, a frown forming between his eyebrows, Steve asks, "Before?"

"Before I realized that you do tell me that you love me, every day. You say it when you tiptoe around the trailer in the morning to make breakfast without waking me. You tell me every time you pack an extra blanket or sweater when we go to the quarry because you know I always get cold. I hear it loud and clear every time you bring me lunch, even though it means you waste most of your own lunch break driving around town. It's in the way you try so hard to make Wayne like you because you know how much that means to me, and in the way you hold me after another nightmare, and in the way you kiss me sometimes like there's nothing in the world you'd rather be doing, without it having to lead anywhere, just because you like kissing me."

Eddie scooted forward and bridged the gap between them by taking Steve's face in his hands.

"Steve, you've been telling me you love me for months with everything except words. I don't really need them. It's just a four-letter word."

And, fuck, now Steve is crying. Eddie wipes away his tears with his thumbs, and when that's not enough, he kisses them away with his lips.

Steve is so in love with him that he has no idea how the feeling even fits in his body.

"Damn," he chuckles wetly, "that means I didn't even have to find a crutch?"

Now it's Eddie's turn to look at Steve in confusion, clearly worried that his boyfriend might have lost his mind. "What crutch? Is this a sex thing?"

Laughing and shaking his head fondly, Steve raises his free hand to his head, palm facing Eddie. Then he brings his thumb, index finger, and little finger up, keeping his ring and middle fingers down, before moving his hand back and forth slightly.

"Robin came up with this. She said if I couldn't say the words with my mouth, maybe I could say them in a different way. I thought of trying sign language," Steve adds sheepishly.

Before he knows what's happening, Eddie is on top of him, pressing him into the couch with his body weight and showering his face with kisses.

"You're so smart," kiss, "and beautiful," kiss, "and wonderful," kiss, "and I love you so much." The last part is accompanied by a lingering kiss on his lips and Steve melts under it.

Even though he obviously didn't have to tell Eddie this way, Steve is glad that he did.

He also thinks it won't be long before he can say those words, too. If anyone can help him walk without a crutch, it's Eddie.

[ohisms]

↪     𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 , 𝑰'𝑴 𝑨 𝑭𝑬𝑾 - ᶰᵒ ᶠᵃᵐᶤˡʸ ˒ ᵗᵒᵒ . 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑎𝑚 𝑖 ?    (  a  series  of  sentence  starters  from  season  1  of  “ orphan black ” .   adjust  phrasing  as  necessary . will be updated !  )

i wanna see [ name ] .

well , that's not fair , is it ?!

oh my god , you look like crap .

i didn't miss your birthday , did i ?

something really weird just happened at the train station .

what the hell is wrong with you ?

listen to me , [ name ] , i'm only gonna ask you this once .

oh , i'm fine by the way , thank you .

get in the car .

when you don't give a damn , i get pissed .

you'd better be ready . are you ready ?

you're sure as hell overdressed . what , were you out all night or something ?

this shit is as hard as it gets . but you've gotta stop making it worse .

i panicked , what do you want me to say ?

i'm kidding . where's your wit gone ?

you don't have to babysit me , dipshit .

i know this thing's got you all twisted up , but try to forgive yourself .

[ name ] , open the goddamn door !

yeah , the last thing i am is special .

[ name ] , where have you been ?

where have i been ? uh .. long story .

oh , jesus , are you alright ?

you have a few words , [ name ] ? anything you want to express ?

plead your mercy & your pity .

love is imperfection itself .

say it . go ahead , say it's my fault .

who the hell are you ?

of course not . you think we'd let that happen ?

i'm at home , you've got it all wrong .

you know what ? don't . i'm going to ignore that .

i'm worried you're losing the plot again .

sorry , i've got ... i've got a lot of work to do .

i mean , what am i supposed to do ?

you don't have to take this on .

i can't keep waking up every night , checking your breathing , worried you're mixing your meds , booze ... god knows what else .

i knew it was too good to be true .

why would you help such a stupid plan ?

i'm not going to play [ name ] in the middle .

i'm not dirty , i just freaked out .

if there is another version of this story ...

walk me through it again . so i know you won't crack under questioning .

you're making me nervous .

finally ! where have you been ?

who am i speaking to ?

how did you find me ?

idiot . do you even know who you're talking to ?

i don't care who you are .

nope , that is not my responsibility .

go , & wait for a call .

what i'm trying to do is move on .

we have known each other for awhile now , [ name ] .

i nailed it , man . every detail .

come on , [ name ] , give me a little love here !

you know , my skin just breaks out every time i leave downtown .

whoa , hey , [ name ] - you always do this to me !

i don't do backup , i don't even know what backup is !

i got stuck , i was running from my own shit .

i'm not giving you shit 'til you give me some answers .

don't ! do not shoot me , please !

seriously , it's life or death .

am i going insane ?

[wavehala]

JJK CHARACTERS WHEN YOU'RE ON YOUR PERIOD

pairing : jjk characters x female reader

characters : gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, kamo choso

warnings : mentions of explicit content

as you can tell i'm on my period (yes of course i am craving physical touch as well but that is not your business). also english isn't my first language so please keep that in mind while reading this piece of garbage

GOJO : HE WOULD BE SO DRAMATIC FOR NO REASON JUST TO IRRITATE YOU. but for real he would take your period as an excuse to be clingier than ever. he would be spooning you the exact moment he arrives back home despite your protests. ao basically, he's not leaving your side with the excuse that "you need to rest" but we all know that satoru just wants to cuddle you for the rest of the evening and take care of you of course. according to him, your skin feels softer whenever you get your period and he wants to cuddle you the entire day. however, don't get it twisted. even though he's a menace to society, he will buy you anything you want to eat and spoil the hell out of you because, in the end, he's totally aware of how painful your period can be most of the time. you mentioned pancakes a few days ago? he's making them in this precise moment. deep inside he cares, a lot, and he will make sure to show that he does. and trust, he is not ashamed AT ALL of going shopping for pads. no he's not going to ask the size of your pussy. but do not worry, gojo satoru will make sure you lay down on your stomach and will massage your back if it is necessary. the bitch will also raise your t-shirt and leave a trail of kisses on your back to raise tension between you. everything while his hand is caressing your waist carefully, as if you were about to break. "i will make sure you massage my back as well don't worry". "not now satoru". oh, also there will be times when this man won't care about your period when he wants to have sex with you so be prepared for that 🤠

GETO : i am about to combust thanks to this man. geto would be overprotective BUT in his own personal way which makes it ten times better. first of all, he could instantly tell in a second when you’re feeling down or unwell. with that being said, he would assume every single task that you were supposed to do that day. he is cleaning the house, doing the dishes, organizing your bookshelf by alphabetical order, and many more. you then refused, obviously, because even you thought you could manage all your responsibilities despite the bothering headache that you had and the point that you felt like you were bleeding yourself to death with every step that you took. you could be in the kitchen doing the dishes out of guilt and geto would go like "BABE NO LET ME TAKE CARE OF IT". he would also carry you in a bridal style to your room when you don't listen to him. this time, he didn't drop you on the mattress, compared to the other times when you guys would have a makeout session. instead, he treated you delicately and then proceeded to kiss your forehead before saying "i got you babe, i'll clean things up and then come back to you. ok?". and all you could do is smile and thank him. and oh my god he is such a gentleman. while watching movies, he would make sure that you were resting your head on his chest while his hand was grazing your lower back. every now and then he would kiss your forehead and tell you how much he loved you. "are you feeling better?" he spoke in a deep, yet soft voice. "yeah, i cannot thank you enough". "don't, it's my duty as your boyfriend". he said while kissing your lips, and then proceeding to kiss your neck.

NANAMI : this man oh my fucking god. your period cycle was irregular as fuck., which was a bummer already. but nanami, despite the circumstances, always paid absolute attention to you in case you needed extra support from him. he even noticed your PMS symptoms before you did. this time, you had gotten your period last night, knowing perfectly that the next day would be the harshest for you according to your cycle. day twos were very chaotic and your personality was always messy. you know: cramps, headaches, mood swings, cravings, all of them at once. what was even worse is that you didn't want to make your boyfriend concerned about you. but your plan was ruined the moment he asked if everything was okay when he called you from work. you responded with a faint "good, why do you ask?", and that was enough for him to hang up after saying "don't worry sweetie, i'll be home in ten minutes". and now here you are, curled up in bed with a hot pack in your abdomen and scrolling through your phone in order to ease the aggravating cramps that just kept getting worse and worse. suddenly you heard the distant sound of the keys in your front door and the rustling of plastic bags at your doorstep. what's funny is that you didn't even move at all to check if it was him, because you already could tell it was. quick footsteps approached the doorframe of your shared room and he would pop up. "yuji is training with gojo, so i had the day off don't worry", he said while removing his tie and laying next to you in bed. "there was no need to do that, kento" you scolded, trying to hide your blushed cheeks. "it is a big deal, you sounded half dead on the phone". he scolded you back while hugging your waist.

CHOSO : MANS WOULD BE SO WORRIED. the first time you told him he would raid a supermarket because he has zero clue of what you need but that doesn't mean that he's gonna leave you unattended because #loyalty. trust the fact that he is going to order everything that you're craving, money is not a concern! choso would be asking you every twenty minutes if you need anything because he's very protective. and you feel bad for him as well. but boy oh boy, when you get those sharp cramps (the ones that feel like they're stinging your ass all of a sudden) and you try to hide your aching expression; he would definitely notice. he will straight up sit close to you and rub your back because he doesn't want to be too invasive. "are you ok?" is the only set of words you hear immediately after. "i just had cramps, nothing to worry about" you said while holding a smile, which you weren't faking because you were genuinely happy that choso was so cautious. "nonsense, come here" he immediately said while embracing you in his arms and cuddling you (carefully) in the couch. his hands were stroking your back while you were on top of his chest, when you finally felt like you could relax and take a breath of fresh air. "thank you choso". "it's okay, i enjoy doing this".

[kjdkive]

it's always been you.

pairing: jungkook x reader (afab)

genre: slowburn, brother’s best friend

warnings: cursing, jungkook being so boyfie

summary: when you get stuck on a date with a total asshole and you need someone to pick you up who else are you gonna call in a new city where you only know your brother and his best friend.

a/n: if you actually like it, tell me if you want a part two cause im honestly thinking about writing one. and if you are gonna read it, you can tell me and i’ll put you in the tag list <3 and also you can always send me an ask if you have any idea for me to write. and also i got this from a “someone write this” tiktok but decided to put more of my stuff in it. if i find the user i’ll let you know

i hate men, i really do. i’ve been single for a while, for the same reason. don't get me wrong, men are really hot and sometimes smart, it's just my bad experiences with men that aren't helping. i moved to a new city for an internship and talking to my friends back home they convinced me to “put myself out there” that maybe “i’d find the one” as if i had time.

now that i think about it, i was so stupid for listening to them because now i’m here, stuck on a date with a total asshole i found on tinder. it was good at first, not gonna lie. i swiped right, we matched, he made sure to compliment me: call me pretty, beautiful, majestic even and we even had actual conversations. so i said “why not? what’s the worst thing that could happen?” 

the date was going well... until it wasn’t. we were talking about what we wanted to do with our futures which is a total important question on a first date. 

“i don’t know, i feel like if i get married i wouldn’t let my wife work, she has to take care of my kids, be grateful that i put food on her table and take care of me.” jisung, my date, said while trying to grab some pasta from his plate. 

i was shocked, i thought he wasn’t gonna be like that. “what do you mean? your wife is not your mother to take care of you and kids are a two-person job.” i told him. 

“oh god, don’t tell me that i just made angry your feminist heart.” he laughed “it’s true, though, what i’m saying. are you finished? let’s go back to my place.” 

“i’m not finished actually, and back to your place?” i asked him. 

“yeah, well, i paid for your food so the least you can do is go back to my place.” 

oh, dear god. what have i gotten myself into? but i really was not in the mood to get in a fight with a man that won't understand why what he's saying is totally wrong.

“uhm, i’d like to ask for dessert.”  i told him. 

 “but you'll have to finish it fast, i wanna go already.” he rolled his eyes. 

i ordered a chocolate cake just to make time while i excused myself to the bathroom and called my brother for help. “why are men always like this?” i ask myself while dialing my brother’s number. it's either they’re mysoginists or they’re cheaters. last time i got a cheater now i got a mysoginist. wow me. 

one ring, two rings, three, four, five… nothing. damn it. i call again, begging the universe for him to pick up the phone and come get me because i was scared to leave alone, i mean i am new in this city, i don't know the bad neighbourhoods and i am not too familiar with the public transportation here. also, this horrible guy was gonna be my ride back home but my brother doesn’t pick up and now i’m doomed.  

“fuck you, taehyung, wherever you are.” 

the only other person i knew in town was my brother’s best friend, who’s probably with him so i should call him because yeah that seems reasonable, right? but what if i bother him? what if he’s not with my brother and i called him for nothing? 

"hello?" i hear a voice from the phone. apparently, i'm so stupid i dialed accidentally.

"hi, jungkook, how are you? it's y/n."

"hey, are you okay? is everything alright?" he asked, sounding more aware, more awake.

"uhm, yeah, just... i went on a date with this guy but he turned out to be an asshole and he was supposed to be my ride back home so i was gonna ask you if taehyung was there with you so he can come pick me up."

"text me the adress and don't move from wherever you are."

"jungkook, don't—" and the sound of him hanging up made me not finish my sentence.

i text him the adress and put my phone back in my purse again, wash my hands and go back to the table where i see jisung on his phone and a piece of chocolate cake in front of him. i sit down and start eating it, really slowly, trying to make time until jungkook come get me.

"can't you be faster? i told you i wanna leave." jisung asked me.

"well, you know already i am a slow eater."

as i am biting the cake i hear a voice behind me.

"let's go now."

i turned around and it's him, jungkook. his outift was not helping, or his voice, or his tattoos, or his piercings, or his hair for how handsome he looked right now. it had been a while since i had seen him, he had less tattoos and longer hair.

"y/n, what the fuck?" jisung asks angrily as we both stand up.

but as i am standing up and getting near jungkook, jisung tried to grab me from the arm. "do not fucking touch her, you hear me?" jungkook told him, while grabbing me from both arms gently and getting me to stand behind him. and jisung sat down, defeated, not giving it enough importance to make this a problem.

jungkook took my hand and also took me out of the place, making us both walk to his bike in the parking lot.

"jungkook, thank you and i'm so sorry for that, i just didn't know who else to call, i know no one here."

"you don't have to apologize and neither thank me, it's alright." he said, giving me a sweet smile as he put a helmet on my head.

"thank you."

"what did i just say?"

i laugh. "you're right. okay but..." i see him already sat on his bike "can you not go so fast, it's my first time getting on one of these and i'm kinda scared, not gonna lie." i ask him while sitting behind him, putting my hands around his waist.

"just enjoy the ride, doll, nothing to worry about."

he doesn't give me time to respond because he's already putting his foot on the gas (if that's what you say about bikes, because i have no clue how these ones work) and i'm already cursing him out.

i feel the air hitting the little part of my face the helmet is not hiding, and i let myself rest on jungkook, hugging him tight, resting my head on his back and feeling safe. well, now this wasn't so bad. we stopped at a red light and i felt his hands caressing my legs. it felt good, really good. i couldn't lie how much i was enjoying this, how much i didn't want this moment to be over.

"would it be so crazy if i ask you to go faster?" i ask him.

the light turns green and i feel the speed already. i let out a squeal as i hug jungkook even tighter. i felt so alive.

and then it was over.

he parked and we both got off the bike.

i try to take off my helmet and as soon as i do i feel a pair of hands over mine "you don't take it off like that, silly." jungkook giggles.

"my hair must be a mess." i said, as i try combing it with my hands.

"you're more than alright, y/n, don't worry." he tells me, while he also runs his hand through my hair giving me butterflies.

butterflies... what?

"well, thank you."

"you're more than welcome. but this is where i go back."

"don't you wanna come upstairs? have a drink or something with me. i haven't seen you in a year." that came out faster than expected and i don't know from where this courage is coming from. i'm not usally like this with jungkook, at the end he's not really my friend, he's my brother's.

he looks at his bike and then at me "uh, yeah, i'd love to."

"you got yourself a sweet appartment." jungkook tells me as soon as he enters and starts taking off his shoes.

"thanks, i got really lucky. you want some wine?"

"ew? you don't have beer?"

i grab him one and pour myself a glass of wine.

"god, i don't know why i went out with that guy, actually he seemed fine at first, you know?"

"and i could see from miles away that he was a dick, his posture, his vibe. i don't know how you didn't notice."

"well, i'm sorry, mr. vibes." i rolled my eyes, playing with him.

we get to talking, an actual really enjoyable conversation of what we were both doing here, how i was doing with my intership and him with his promotion on his corporate job at a really young age. we were both doing amazing, and we were having a really good time. and there was this feeling again, of not wanting it to be over. not once in our lives have we been alone, my brother was always there or just someone. we never got to do something alone even when we were younger and jungkook went to my house for dinner and my mom asked us to set the table so this was a new one. he also looked so handsome tonight, making those weird butterflies worse.

"i'm sorry, that was a really long story. but i've been wanting to thank you again for picking me up and saving me from that prick. i really needed that." i tell him while i get myself more comfortable on the couch. "i hope you weren't doing anything important and i interrupted you with my annoying problems."

"i was hanging out with some friends back at my place, actually." he says, while putting his head back on the couch, letting me see his neck and that little tattoo behind his ear.

"what? jungkook, oh my god, i'm so sorry i wouldn't have called you if i—"

jungkook laughs, standing up from the couch.

"are you going back to your place? god, i'm so sorry." i stand up with him.

"shut up." he laughs again.

"what? no, i mean it."

"shut up, y/n."

"what? why?"

"i did have some friends hanging out back at my place and yeah, i was busy." he starts, while walking slowly towards me "but that didn't matter as soon as you called me and told me you needed me. because whatever you need i'll run through heaven and hell to give it to you, walk the whole planet barefoot if you needed me to."

our faces are just milimiters apart from crashing into each other's.

"it's just because i'm your best friend's little sister." i tell him, almost whispering.

"no, it's you over your brother anytime." he grabs my face, his thumbs caressing my cheeks. "it's you, y/n, it has always been you."

i prepare myself for the kiss, a kiss that's going to change whatever dynamic we had for years. but there's no kiss, just a soft touch of his upper lip against mine.

"but we'll talk about it later, when you haven't come from a shit date."

he grabs his jacket and lets himself out of my appartment.

i want to say something back, tell him that leaving me like this it's unfair, but nothing comes out of my mouth, just my hand moving to my mouth trying to remember the lingering touch of him against me.

i was left there speechless.

[ippipo]

sukuna ryomen x reader - mafia au? idk but here's sum

Sukuna is the type to buy you expensive presents literally every week. He was a spend-thrift and it was batshit crazy how careless he was with money when it came to you. So you decided to take the matter into your own hands.

You told Sukuna that you'll tear every single clothing he buys you if he doesn't listen to you, to which he casually shrugged and said, "I could just buy you more." After many blackmailing attempts (who are you kidding? this man gets death threats and is attacked at least once every month), you decided to use your ace card.

You didn't talk to him for an entire day. It was pretty childish considering the fact that he was buying stuff only for you, but you recently heard that one of the three powerful mafia groups had gone bankrupt rendering them useless. It scared you because Sukuna's money saving ability was shit despite being the richest mafia ever.

After a few painful hours of knocking on your door, Sukuna was angry and punched a hole into the hard wood. Of course it didn't work, his knuckles started to hurt. That didn't matter to him though, he just wanted to know why you were ignoring him.

"Y/N.." he called out weakly, his voice bleeding with sadness. He had a bad day and he just wanted to be around you. Hearing his pitiful voice, your heart clenched. C'mon, it's not everyday you have one of the strongest people weak on their knees, begging. Seems like you were just as sadistic as the greatest mafia don himself.

You slowly unlocked the door and peered into his eyes, your eyes bearing rigidity that made his cock hard. You grabbed his hand and brought him to your shared bed, pushing him onto it and falling on him, earning a grunt.

You softly dragged your fingers on his palm, sometimes writing his name, sometimes writing your name. He pushed you off to the side gently and got up to undress himself down to just his boxers. He got on to the bed and grabbed you aggressively by your shoulder, pulling you back on top of him, your rightful position.

You bit his shoulder playfully as a payback for manhandling you to which he replied with a kiss on your forehead. "Say, why do you want me to stop buying you things so bad?" He questioned, his voice booming in the quietness of your room.

"Do you want me to tell you the truth?" You asked. "You are to answer my question, not question me back." He flicked your forehead, earning an 'ouch'. "You won't leave me after this?" You asked, ignoring his statement earlier. He looked at you with a deadpan expression.

"Darling, you fucking dumb bitch, I saw you mixing egg yolks with strawberry jam to make a volcano and I'm still with you." He stated. You muttered 'reasonable' before clearing your throat, preparing yourself for something you thought would embarrass you.

"Okay. So, um-" "Get to the point." He said impatiently. "Fine. The clothes you're getting me are the wrong size, they're smaller and I think I grew bigger than last time. I feel weird about myself because they used to fit me but now they're a little tight and uncomfortable and I feel insecure." You said without a break.

"W-" "And I heard some maids saying that three of your enemy gangs went bankrupt and I'm scared you'll waste all your money on things that I won't even use." You added. "First off, how dare you interrupt me." He said and paused.

"Secondly, what do you mean you feel insecure? If anything, I'm the one who was supposed to buy you clothes that fit you, not the ones smaller, it's my fault. And darling, you're a fucking goddess, I don't care if you got bigger, you look just fine to me." He pulled both your cheeks with his fingers and slapped them softly.

"Stop doing tha-" "I didn't marry you for something as stupid as looks, I married you because you're my weird cumslut who can't go a day without dick, plus, you're my wife, no way am I letting something so absurd bother you." He said with a smirk. You slapped his bare chest because of his choice of words, blushing profusely.

"Thirdly, who do you think made them go bankrupt?" You remained silent at that, assured and relieved. "So...you still like me?" You asked. He smacked your cheek and choked you, gently may I add. "Stop asking me stupid questions." He grumbled.

You giggled when his thumb ghosts over your neck, tickling you while his hand was around it. You take his hand that was around your neck and press kisses on his knuckles. He brought his hand to his lips and kissed the spots you kissed, a happy glint in his eye, as if you both actually kissed.

Sukuna doesn't look like it, but he is just happy if you were near him. Your presence is more than enough, a blessing, in fact. To him, you're not a prize, you're a gift, you're a prank gone right, you're his world. Aggressively, he loved you, he cherished you and he will keep on doing it till his last breath.

"I'm still offended you slapped me." You said, turning away when he tried to kiss you. He grabbed your chin and forcefully made you look towards him, to which you didn't object. He gently kissed your lips, capturing your heart and soul within a span of seconds.

A wordless assurance. He needed that to make sure he didn't actually hurt you, because he meant to slap softly, playfully, with pure love, not the kind of slap he was more acquainted with, thanks to his parents (who were dead by the way).

"It's just that..." You began, grabbing his attention though it was already on you. "I don't like the way I look?" It was more of a question than a confession, you were unsure of yourself. There were times you liked the way you looked, there were times you absolutely despised yourself.

It was complicated, your relationship with your body. When you thought you looked good, you didn't. When you thought you didn't look good, you didn't.

It was tough, especially when you're dating someone conventionally attractive. It makes you feel unworthy. That maybe someday he would find someone else. Maybe someone who looks prettier, has both, beauty and brawns.

Even though he treats you like a princess, showering you with his passionate fancy love, you still felt that he could do better. Choose someone better. That thought makes you feel like someone had cut your head and poured vomit inside you, bleaching your organs with vomit, an unshakeable feeling.

You didn't need to say a word though. Sukuna knew what you were thinking. Every thought, every whisper and every breath of yours was familiar to him. It was surprising how well he knew you. Perfect hands wrapped around a perfect waist, your waist. He didn't care how big it was.

He kissed you, aggressively. That's what you called your relationship, aggressive love, which was quite contrary to how he treated you because there was always a hidden gentleness under his aggressiveness. He knew where to draw the line though.

"I don't know why you don't want to believe me, so I might just have to fuck it into you." It was funny how he said it in a very serious tone, he was being serious. "Ryo, I was at a stupid party before coming home and my legs are dead from standing so much." You whined.

"Who says you have to work now? Let me handle your body." He whispered, licking a stripe on the back of your ear. A shiver of pleasure ran down your body, right to your cunt. Oh boy did you know what a night it was going to be.

[vampirevatican]

nsfw levi headcanons, bc the thoughts won't stop...

(MDNI, NSFW BELOW)

long forked tongue.

he has a snake and water motif, yeah?

he's a water type, yeah??

he's a serpent. so for important reasons, he has a forked tongue and a dual dong

it's like a snake's wee wee anatomy, so yes phallic but very tentacle and wiggly

he can sheath and unsheath his hemipeen

so... does he look a bit like a ken doll with it sheathed?? yes, and ofc there's a slight lump there and if you rub it you'll awaken the peni

now if you're wondering my thoughts on size?? he's pretty average, i wanna say 5 inches

and listen if that's not enough im sorry but, dude is blessed with TWO and if anyone has something bigger than average??? it's gotta be diavolo and/or beel

anyway, can he unhinge his jaw you ask!? why yes, yes ofc he can.

how else is he supposed to fit that long, flexible, forked tongue in his mouth

his tail, you ask?! ofc, thiccest where it connects at the base of his spine and tapers to a point.

can move his tongue pretty fast if you catch my drift

speaking about his mouth... yes he has shark teeth and ofc he's careful with them and warns you before things get too heated

so when it slides in... he makes sure to do it nice and slow.... unless y'all are doing more than one round or you're already loose

yes he is a sub and simp boy but also he can be very rough if desperately horny and possessive, so be careful

masochist. there's no other way to say it. dude gets off on having his peni stepped on and being degraded

though ofc he only takes the degrading from you, and mainly in steamy situations

perv too. i said it before and i'll say it again, mfer would sniff your undies and shudder in delight.

fantasies about you being his little cam whore, but just for him. he is the avatar of envy after all.

cosplay sex?? oh it happens. yes i am saying this because of brief and panty, don't look at me like that.

sexting?? that's when he can be his most confident and dominant, because he doesn't have to physically see you and overthink his actions

even better do rp chats with him, with y'all's fave pairings?? oooh wee, after a certain point if you show up at his door be prepared to be pulled in so fast and to stay in his room til midnight or the next morning

very much a pushover, so when ur the dom anything you say goes.

when he's dom he enjoys every second of your submissive compliance, it really boosts his ego

okay... to finish this off. no he is not buff or built. yes he has demon strength and because of his body type being on the lean, kinda scrawny side he's got that secret build going for him.