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#(I don't want to have to take care of things alone anymore.)
gloveslut · 2 days
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oda died. chuuya has no idea.
babe, i'm back. ... hey, what's going on?
i'm leaving.
you're what? 'samu, did something happen?
stop fucking using that tone. or my name.
what the fuck? can you explain?
explain what?
everything?!
you knew it was only a matter of time. i don't know why you act surprised.
you don't wanna talk about it?
no.
...where to?
none of your business.
but osa- listen, you swore you wouldn't- ever-
i didn't swear shit to mafia.
...fuck no. that's not how you talk to me, you fucking piece of shit.
get off of me.
you're leaving me too! you swore shit to me!
you're nothing more than one of my mistakes.
i know you're lying, fuck, what's gotten into you?
i'm not lying, i can't bear even looking at you now.
but why? dazai, it's unfair to-
oh, and you're always fair to me? i know you're seeing someone else.
...who? tell me who told you that and i'll rip them apart, because it's fucking bullshit.
you're bullshit. all of you. it's your nature. quit playing the victim.
this is ridiculous-
and what are you gonna do about it? beg for me to stay? again? aren't you tired?
you know what? i am. because saying shit like that out of blue is too low, even for you.
i need to pack my things, get out of my-
who's blood is that? the hell is-
mine! it's mine cause i felt uneasy! stop sniffing around, you're not helping!
this doesn't look like- like- you know, there's too much of it, dazai, i don't understand-
you don't need to understand, chuuya, please, stop trying to get closer. you're not special. i'm not gonna take you with me so we can run off into the sunset.
but you can't do it completely on your own, god, are you even here with me?
i'm the one thinking critically right now. i can get killed otherwise, and i'm not gonna be alone.
...you can't just throw it at me like that. can i at least know when it started?
when what started?
well, your falling out? i guess i should've seen it coming with the way you hated introducing me to literally anyone.
i'm not here to fight about it with you.
but you accused me of cheating first thing i came in, idiot!-
i'm not- i was talking about him.
who? ...odasaku? ... fuck, i'm sorry for assuming- whatever, you do realise he's not gonna be here for you forever?
...chuuya, please.
i'm not trying to scare you off and obviously i'm not any better but-
please stop. some... people were here, but they left, and it's not so bad. it's gonna be fine and we're gonna find the best place to hide, i don't care what you think of it, we're gonna be- fine-
honey... i didn't mean to make it worse, it's o-
no it's not! you know nothing about me or my friends, i'm begging you- just- fuck off-
i know it's hard and-
don't touch me! ... god, just go away.
...so you mean it.
yes. i fucking do. now leave. you can get suicidal and stick around this burnt house as long as you want later.
...fuck you. i can't stand you anymore.
oh yeah? news to me.
yeah, cause i fucking loved you! i put everything i had eating me from inside away and stayed with you up untill this point. i made my whole life evolve around you. jesus, i even grew my hair for you!
uh-huh.
and guess what! i never fucking liked it this way. i barely got anything out of whatever we had going on. you didn't even wanna give it a name. cause i'd eat it up. and i did.
right.
fuck, dazai, can't you have a heart for a minute?
yeah no, not around someone who thinks of me as crazy, but thanks.
i don't- what the fuck are you talking about?
all the... nice treatment you gave me was always based purely on the fact that i'm fucking broken and that you should fix me. not only it's incredibly fucked up, you also just can't. you always play god here and there but you don't carry the power of one, not even close.
now, i didn't even-
chuuya, please. i'm asking kindly. i can easily get it over with, but i don't think it'd be either rational or pleasant for you.
...just like this?
yeah. just like this. if you can't accept that you're not needed, then you earn all the hostility. i'm done with all this shit. let us both finally have peace. ... that look doesn't exactly evoke peaceful feelings in me.
i... i have so much to say, to- to ask before- and there's not enough time- huh, it seems like it's never the time. i don't know if i should waste my chance, though.
i mean, if you realise how useless all of our conversations ever were...
...
woah. okay. ... one last question.
if you promise to never talk to me again, go on.
...did you- it's hard not to- ...well, i know someone died. i just have to know, are you the cause?
yes and no. unfortunately, i didn't get to kill anyone this time. but i'm also at fault. great one. i'm at hurry. so may i be excused? ... you better not show up in my life later on. not necessarily because you're so distractive, it's just the way it- it has to be. have fun around here, but be cautious. you never know where your line's gonna end. or when you're gonna lose someone. i guess it would be even more heartbreaking to you, 'normal people'.
wait, are you saying-
i thought you stopped bothering me. ...nevermind. do whatever you want.
i can't believe you're doing this to me.
please, move.
dazai- baby, i was only trying to-
now, you shut it and let me go or i'll slit your throat with this shiny thing. ... cool. oh, and... your letters or anything like that will never reach me. we have nothing to discuss. nothing that is worth the effort. i also think you said everything you wanted to. ...thank you- for, uh, not whining too much. see you in hell.
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humbly requesting some Reverend and Will first meeting content 🪽🤞🏻
This was both fun and a challenge to write!! No warnings here, other than what you probably already know about the characters and the Reverse Falls au.
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Standing alone in the room, staring at the candles on the wooden floor, he braced himself. Again, the warning rang in Stanford’s mind.
Do not summon at all costs.
It was not a phrase to be taken lightly. Not an action to take without long, careful thought. Long sleepless hours of research and study, restless nights alone, turning it over and over in his mind. Preparing himself for what he wanted to do. A reckless man would have summoned the strange spirit, this dream demon, as soon as he could. He didn't like to think of himself that way. He liked to consider himself better than that.
Nothing else he'd come across had a warning like this. Nothing else had the potential like this. Nothing else begged for his attention like this. Begged for his control like this.
Too good to resist. Too good to hold back.
Yes. Whatever this truly was, demon or lesser spirit, or something else unimaginable, he was ready for it.
The candles flickered. Stanford Gleeful held his breath. A wind wrapped around him, tossing his hair as the world distorted into grayscale. Behind his arms he watched with wide eyes as a hole ripped itself open in reality. A triangle through which he could see the whole cosmos watching back.
He blinked.
The eye within the hole blinked back.
Reality turned solid again. The triangle seemed to smile, looking around the room.
“I'm back,” he said.
Stanford lowered his arms, and stared. He was a strange thing, dark arms and legs with a top hat and tie. All blue, an almost photo negative shade, with a single eye that looked at him with cheerful curiosity. Intelligence burned within it. So did power.
He couldn't look away.
“So!” The little thing floated closer. “You're Stanford Gleeful!” He circled around, as if examining Stanford. “Yknow, I didn't think you'd actually do it. Summon me. I'm glad you did though! It's nice to talk to a human again.”
“How-” Stanford swallowed. “How do you know my name?”
The triangle laughed. “What don't I know!” He said. “I'm practically a god of knowledge!” He rubbed his face with his little hand. “But uh. I've actually been hoping someone would summon me for a long time. The last guys didn't like me. They thought I was annoying. I saw you find that old stuff-” He gestured to the desk across the room. “- and I thought, maybe this time it'll happen! And go better, too! I shouldn't hope, it's gotten me in trouble before. But for once, it worked out!”
He reached out and brushed a few strands of hair out of Stanford's face, before flicking him on the nose.
“Name's Will Cipher! Great to finally meet you. Hope I don't let you down!”
Stanford felt something odd wrapping around inside him. Like… intrigue. Interest. Attraction? He couldn't say. This whole situation caught him off guard. He'd expected a demon like his grandfather spoke of so often in his sermons, in personality, if nothing else.
But Will, he seemed… Nice. Innocent, even.
“So!” Will crossed his legs and looked at Stanford with clear eagerness. “What would you like to do first?”
Right. He'd wanted to test the demon with questions. See how powerful, how dangerous, he truly was. But he couldn't remember them anymore. Damn it.
“Hold on,” Stanford said, raising his hand. “What was it you just said about being a god?”
“Compared to humans, yeah!” Will said. “I'll show you! You want to see something fun?”
“... Yes?” Stanford said.
Will took off his hat and tossed it in the air. He spun around in a blur of blue and black, moving so quickly Stanford could not see him anymore. The hat shot up, almost hitting the ceiling, and drifted back down.
The hand that caught the hat was human, in black fingerless gloves. The head that the hand put the hat back onto, covered in blonde hair, was also human. Dark blue eyes winked at him, human eyes, a human face. A human body dressed in a blue vest over a black sleeveless turtleneck and dark pants, lean and youthful and grinning wide. Will adjusted his tie.
“What do you think?” Will said.
Something about Stanford's face must've caught Will’s attention. He wilted.
“... I didn't make you uncomfortable did I?” He said. “I can change back if you-”
“No!”
Stanford lowered his hand. He exhaled. Forced himself to smile through his disbelief.
“I… I like it.”
But Will must have known that. How, he would need to figure out. Stanford never told a soul about his true desire in a partner. He would never let anyone know he was gay. But this form that this bright-eyed demon took…
He must have known. How else could he have chosen a body that captured everything he'd ever fantasized about?
“Thanks!” Will said.
Or maybe he didn't. Maybe it was an accident. Maybe it was fate.
Maybe they were meant for each other.
Stanford grinned. This was the best decision he ever made in his life.
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lastoneout · 1 month
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Actually am still kinda pissed that my fiancé's psychatrist evaluated him for anxiety and said he didn't have it but then was like "in the future I'd like to see you make enough progress with your anxiety that you feel comfortable taking your mask(N95 not neurodivergent mask) off" and didn't seem to care when he explained that his fiancé(me) has several severe chronic illnesses and immune issues so we both do what we can to ensure I don't get sick with any illness, not just covid. Like does he have anxiety or not?? You can't have it both ways buddy!! And like it or not protecting a vulnerable person from getting sick is logical, YOU'RE the one being irrational here.
Like this is why I get pissed about mask(N95) stuff, people have legit fallen into some kind of thought-terminating cliché about covid and all other contagious diseases not being a problem anymore to the point that they think even sick people and their loved ones taking reasonable precautions to protect their health is a sign of anxiety and paranoia. I truly do not get it. Like it's one thing if you personally don't want to wear a mask(N95) but at least leave people who do alone, but legit acting like people like me are insane for doing something that makes perfect sense is turning me into the Joker. It doesn't even work to say "oh I have asthma and allergies and the air quality is bad today" or "I'm having an important surgery soon and need to make sure I don't get sick" like they think wearing a mask(N95) AT ALL in any circumstance for any reason means you've legit lost your mind.
I genuinely feel like the government suddenly started hiding all the national car crash statistics and insisted in tons of press conferences that crashing your car is actually perfectly fine and not a big deal at all and wearing a seatbelt isn't something healthy people need to worry about, so now everyone thinks it's silly to wear one and every time I do I have to deal with people implying or outright stating that I'm legitimately mentally ill and need an intervention.
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jakei95 · 3 months
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This will be the last update about the accusations against Nyx and me from last year and recent months.
VERSION EN ESPAÑOL:
I cannot force everyone to forgive or believe us, but I would like to provide a closure from our part on the events following Hopeless Peaches' false accusations last year, and a few more that have been reappearing this year, once more.
In recent months, we resumed communication with CrystalFlame, one of the victims of the Glitchtale server. Crystal acknowledged that the accusations against us for allegedly being sexual towards minors and bribing her to remain silent about our "crimes" were entirely fabricated by these people. It was never our intention to hide our past mistakes with money. The separate donations Nyx and I gave to Crystal were solely intended to help her.
Regarding the conversations on Skype in 2017, neither Nyx nor I ever forced the minors present to engage in sexual behavior for our entertainment, nor did we sexualize them in any way. There were inappropriate conversations between adults, in which they should not have been involved, and we recognize our mistake in being negligent and not caring enough about them. I must admit that Veir also disgusted me, and I reacted foolishly by not confronting him or by saying things he liked just to make him leave me alone. I deeply regret this. Although we have apologized to Crystal for this, I also want to apologize to the minors who were there, even if they don't want to know about this anymore, and to the entire community for this huge mistake. Since Nyx and I stopped using that chat short after our irl meeting that same year, plus our detachment to the members of GT, we have changed our views significantly both in public and in private, creating a healthy community for everyone. I will add more details later regarding my experiences with NSFW material, for which I have also been accused of being a depraved person.
I disagree with how Nyx tried to explain how these behaviors were so normalized, but he never intended to endorse the toxicity and unpunished crimes occurring in Latin culture. Nyx acknowledges this, and we discussed it again privately with Crystal. We apologize once more to our Latin members who might have been offended by this take, which could have been better explained. Nyx and I said a lot of things out of fear and frustration, which caused more harm and distress rather than solutions due to the explosive harassment we faced because of the false accusations by Hopeless Peaches and their group. I won't go into too many details because I have chosen to keep my mental health private, but this wave of harassment severely impacted my mental and physical health, and I am currently undergoing treatment to manage the aftermath.
However, I want to take full responsibility for causing Nyx to act out of emotion rather than with a clear mind in a desperate attempt to protect me, as Crystal ended up in a very complicated situation during the harassment wave created by Peaches, making her believe that our lives were in her hands and dependent on her choices. This was not only inappropriate but also unfair, considering Crystal was going through a lot at that time. Nyx and I poorly worded many things both publicly and privately. We should never have let our emotions take over while trying to defend ourselves. We could have handled the situation more maturely. None of these mistakes will be repeated ever again. Crystal has also admitted her mistakes. Many things would have taken a different path if dialogue had been the first option instead of public statements, but both sides have learned a lot.
With all this, I don't want to hear anything about Glitchtale, its creator, or its still-active members. Nor do I want to hear about Hopeless Peaches or their community, or what's left of it. My purpose on the internet is to entertain people with my art, and on the rare occasions I interact publicly, to maintain a calm and healthy environment, as I have been doing for years. My boundaries with fans are very strict and defined. It may sound ambitious or silly to many, but for a long time, I have wanted to make a difference and show that not all artists with a large audience are people who hide dark secrets and seek to harm others. I just want to tell stories and brighten people's days.
People have become used to seeing random individuals or public figures being exposed daily for horrible acts and behavior, which is very depressing. However, when those accusations are false, it is sometimes too late to undo the damage. No one likes to be pointed at and accused of something they didn't commit, especially when those accusations are serious, like harming another human being.
Some people today are confused and believe that I am actually Camila, and that Nyx is Veir, that my husband has been dating minors despite us being married, and that I defended my "pedophile" partner and protected other groomers. People are not only mistaking us for other individuals, but we also don't have anything to do with that other than the 2017 Skype chats. We have been put in some sort of black list from parts of the fandom due to misinformation or because some people seek an excuse to justify their dislike for us by wishing we had harmed real children. This is sickening, sickeing and frustrating if you actually think about the victims not only in fandoms but everywhere. So, please, I beg you to distinguish between names and what has actually happened. Even if you don't like us, don't seek or wish for us to be monsters just to feel proud of yourselves.
I feel I could regain some peace in my heart by having the opportunity to talk to Crystal about all what happened and ending in good terms. This should be the end of the whole controversy regarding the Skype Chat and the GT Server.
Now I would also like to take the opportunity to talk about other accusations still aimed at me to this day, which I once explained on a Twitter thread that was eventually deleted due to unnecesary arguments between fans. I'm being accused of being a horrible and irredeemable person for drawing a comic in my early years in the fandom that insinuated a non-consensual act between Cross and Dream.
Before any explanation, I want to emphasize that I still feel immense regret and shame for creating that nsfw comic, even if I didn't feel comfortable doing so, I still made the decision as an adult and shouldn't have done it in a space where there were minors and people who might find that material triggering. Even though it happened many years ago, it was not right, and I will apologize as many times as necessary.
I haven't had any contact with the creator of Dreamtale since 2017, so I'm unaware of her current viewpoint about this topic in general, but one thing is certain: both of us don't want to be associated with that ship between our characters and want to move on. We want it as far away from us as possible. I don't want anybody to harass her over this situation.
During that time, I was in an unstable relationship with the creator of Dreamtale, with whom I used to roleplay privately. This, along with being pressured to make the ship "canon", led me to create the comics for that ship. Among them was the infamous scene for which I'm accused of supporting rape. This content and private interactions reached a point where the entire situation made me uncomfortable, along with the toxic attitudes in our relationship, I ended up closing the blog, though not before writing a summary of what would happen next in the story -that didn't have any other sexual moments, to clarify-, simply a closure for those who enjoyed the comic. Not long after, we broke up.
After this experience, I began to realize that any NSFW content, both fictional and real, made me very uncomfortable. This is connected to future members of the fandom, like Veir, who tried to sexualize me, and later, ex-friends whom I wanted to please for their support during my growth as a content creator by drawing them private NSFW commissions. I ignored my discomfort, believing I was doing the right thing and that I could trust them, but what happened later finally made me understand that I personally cannot tolerate any of this content.
This group of people shared these private commissions among themselves. One of these people was someone I considered a close friend and was even my Discord moderator but began abusing their power towards other members, trying to escape the consequences just because of our friendship. They even tried to offer me money to remove a character from another artist who would appear in my animation as a cameo, just because they both had personal issues. I decided to end our friendship because I saw no changes or improvements on their part and I felt i was being used as a power tool for them.
It wasn't long after this that I found an alt account of them, posting these private NSFW drawings, tagging me to attract attention as a form of revenge for cutting ties with them (They also got Nyx's phone number to trying to get in contact with me despite what they were doing). These images spread last year among a few people who, unaware of the background, used them as a reason to question me as an artist. However I explained the rest of the story before it became more public, and I appreciate that they listened to me first, however, the damage was already done.
In March of this year, I made a thread on Twitter explaining this and my reason for not supporting or consuming NSFW content. I want to stay away from this whole debate. I don't want my words to be used to attack others. My reasons for not enjoying this are because I had people around me who caused me a lot of harm with this matter, it triggers me, and I don't like any sexual topics around me, even as an adult reaching my 30s. I simply don't like it, I'm not interested, and I want my feelings to be respected. I'm very aware that more than half of my audience are minors, and I know how to behave and what to show in my art, but there are still others looking for any excuse to call me or my husband horrible things. It has happened before with accusations of transphobia for making Frisk and Chara from Xtale male instead of non-binary as they are in the canon version. I have been called a pedophile for portraying Frisk and Muffet from XTale in an innocent romantic context, even though there is no age difference, just because is not following, again, the canon (which with all honesty, I'm not aware if it has been confirmed she is a child or not). I have been accused of racism because of the characters' skin color, and so on.
Being hated in a fandom as an artist with a big following is supposed to be normal, but, to what extent?
I know I should ignore those comments and move on, but I still don't understand why it hurts so much that people want to discredit my efforts as an artist and as a person by believing they have found some dark secret in me… I really can't understand, I just want to live in peace.
My art is my only escape from negative thoughts. Nyx is my only support in real life. I have been working on how to deal with online criticism and harassment, but it is really hard when people tell lies in order to ruin a life, especially when those lies try to make us look like disgusting human beings. This puts me in a lot of distress, mostly because I hate conflict and prefer to be left alone. I want to be a role model in this community by not getting involved with problematic people and toxic environments. Even if there are people who don't like my work, I want to show that there is still a bit of decency and common sense in the art community.
For this reason, this will be the last time I talk about this because I want to focus on what makes me, my husband, and my audience happy. I want to set an example, and I want people to read this, try to understand our position, and give us a chance.
Once again, we deeply regret the mistakes we made in the past.
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cryptidghostgirl · 7 months
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The Love (Alastor x Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Description: Alastor is drunk and Charlie asks him if he has ever been in love.
Warnings: I don't think there are any but correct me if I'm wrong.
Word Count: 1,323
Master Lists:
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A/N Y'all, I'm lowkey dying from the requests. I'm sorry for the last five or so taking so long, I just need a little break and mix in some of my own ideas if that is okay.
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Alastor was drinking at the bar with Husk, Charlie, and Angel. The day had been a lot, seeing Mimzy was always a lot. Yes she was trouble, but Alastor loved her. He loved her for the same reason he was trying to drink himself stupid at the bar. He loved her because she reminded him of Y/n. Mimzy had been her friend first, after all.
He sat off to the side in his own little world while Angel and Charlie chatted and Husk obediently poured the drinks. Normally, Husk would have joined the pair in the mindless, mundane chatter but after the events of the day, Alastor's presence kept him silent.
"No way!" Charlie exclaimed.
She and Angel were talking about some TV show they both watched or another. A mind numbingly boring background noise but, Alastor wasn't complaining.
"Yes! They are one hundred percent perfect for each other." Angel replied animatedly.
"Literally how. Name one thing that shows they have good chemistry."
"Uh, they’re constantly at each other's throats? If that's not love, I don't know what is."
"Angel?"
"Yeah?"
"You don't know what love is."
Husk let out a short, sharp laugh as he topped off Angel's drink.
"Oh yeah? Well then, Princess, what do you think love is."
Charlie sighed, leaning her elbow on the counter as a dreamy look spread across her face.
"Love is... love is when you would do anything for the person. It's when they're your guiding star, your... your prayers answered."
"Uh, no? Love is when you want to literally kill the person but like, in a good way."
"Angel, what does that even mean." Charlie laughed.
"It means... it means there is passion. That spark everyone always talks about? It's violence."
"Hey Al!" Charlie suddenly called, leaning back in her seat to peer at Alastor behind Angel's back, "Who's right, me or Angel?"
Alastor looked up from his glass.
"I hate to say it, but neither of you are correct." he sighed in irritation at having been disturbed, "Love is neither a constant fight nor a blind devotion, though it contains aspects of both."
"Like you know anything about love, mister fancy talk creepy voice." Angel scoffed, turning to face Alastor as well now.
"Actually, I do."
Charlie's face lit up. She practically vibrated with anticipation.
"Alastor! You've been in love!?"
Normally, on a night like this, he'd be alone. He'd be careful to be alone, or at least have Husk as his only company. When he told Husk to shut up and pour, he listened. Other people, not so much.
"Yes."
Charlie had stars in her eyes. She inched closer to him.
"Are you gonna spill?" Angel asked after a moment.
"It was a long time ago."
Alastor took a long sip from his glass.
"Do you... do you not remember it?" Charlie asked, her excited smile slipping slightly at the notion
Maybe it was the drink. Maybe it was the long day, Lucifer, Mimzy, Husk. Those shark demons. Maybe it was just that secretly all along, he had wanted someone to talk to. He watched the liquor in his glass as he swirled it gently.
"It was a long time ago, but I still remember it." his smile softened as he spoke, "It's strange. I remember her laughter, her little quixotic tendencies. I remember the way her eyes would light up when she smiled and the way her perfume smelled. I know her favorite author, the way she took her coffee, the way she folded her clothes but, I can't seem to ever see her face anymore. I..."
He trailed off, taking a breath.
"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." Charlie quickly said, not wanting to make Alastor uncomfortable.
Alastor shook his head.
"I've spent years not talking about her. Maybe... maybe something else would be nice."
"So, how'd you guys meet?" Charlie immediately asked.
Alastor looked up at her and let out a light chuckle. He felt like he was human again for a moment. It was odd.
"I don't know if you know this about me, but I was a radio broadcaster back when I was alive. A rather famous one at that, in New Orleans at any rate. Her family ran a restaurant near the studio that I went to get lunch at from time to time. She worked there as a server."
"And she loved you?" Angel asked, "Like, you weren't just delusional?"
"I was quite the lady's man back in my day."
"Uh-huh." Angel doubtfully replied, "Sure."
"Oh hush, Angel." Charlie shoved the spider demon slightly, "Tell us more! What was she like? Did you ever get together or were you just friends? Gah! I wanna know everything!"
"She was..." Alastor's gaze fell back to his glass, "you remind me of her in a way. She was so idealistic, so driven. So... bubbly. She worked hard and she cared deeply. I don't know how I swung her, despite my charms. We were friends for about a year. The whole time, I was trying to work up the courage to ask her out but she ended up being the one to ask me. We got married when we were in our mid twenties. I only had a few years with her as my wife before I died."
Unbidden ideas darkened the edges of his mind. Y/n had always been so good, so sweet. Alastor had no idea if she had ever learned of his... escapades. He figured she must know, considering the manner in which he died but it was a horrifying thought. He was grateful when Charlie spoke again, pulling his mind back to the present.
"Thats so cute!" Charlie exclaimed, clapping her hands as she looked between Alastor and Angel, searching for similar excitement.
"Can we meet this alleged doll of yours?" Angel asked, "Cause I am really not believing any of this bullshit your spouting."
Charlie gasped, suddenly struck by inspiration.
"Do you think she would want to be redeemed?"
"Oh dear," Alastor shook his head, meeting Charlie's eyes, "she's not here."
"Then wh-"
"She's in heaven?" Angel exclaimed, "You married someone who ended up in heaven?"
"Either that or she's over a hundred years old and still on earth." Alastor weakly joked.
"I'm sorry."
Alastor shrugged, downing the rest of his drink.
"No!" Charlie insisted, "You'll... you'll never get to see her again! That's so sad!"
"And here I thought you were trying to get us redeemed." Angel scoffed.
Charlie turned to him.
"I'm trying to get you redeemed cause you're a guest. Alastor isn't a guest."
"Right you are, my dear."
"But you could do that." Charlie said turning back to Alastor, "Angel's right, if you were a guest you could be redeemed. You could see her again!"
Alastor smiled kindly at the excited demon. He patted her back.
"I'm afraid I don't think that's an option."
"But why not!" Charlie insisted, "Anyone can be redeemed, Alastor."
"That's not the issue, my dear." he sighed, "I did some things on earth that she would most certainly view as... unfavorable shall we say? Things she most certainly learned of after my death."
"You're not even gonna give it a shot?" Angel asked.
"Yeah, come on Alastor. Let us help you. You never know how it could turn out!"
"It's alright. I have the time we spent together, the memories. I don't want to taint that." he slowly, unconsciously, raised a hand to his chest, his palm over his heart, "The love is still there, thats what matters."
The quartet fell silent as Husk poured Alastor another drink. Alastor sighed, grabbing the glass and examining it carefully, but not taking a sip.
"What was her name?" Charlie asked, her voice small and her smile long gone.
"Y/n."
It had been years since he'd said it out loud. His tongue relished every syllable.
"Her name was Y/n."
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depvotee · 1 year
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Vent dni
Man. It's insane when a family members are the ones that abuse you constantly that it becomes so normal at the point where you start to bite back they treat that as you begin the cunt.
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kenjakusbraincum · 10 months
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can you pls write something about reader being sick and like not the cough and cold kind of sick- like really really sick, and sukuna realising how much he doesn't want to lose her to this sickness and how if she dies, he'll be alone again..🥺
You have NO idea how much I love this idea!!! I did go a bit overboard with it cause I love suffering though 👍 Still, this was SO much fun to write and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
Vows
Sukuna x Reader
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Word count: 4.5k
Tags/warnings: gn! reader, true form! sukuna, master/pet dynamic, fluff but most importantly ANGST, mentions of weight loss, mentions of violence, implied nsfw, reader dies in the end :( (sorry)
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It's not the first time Sukuna has been made aware of your mortality. He recalls many instances when he's been reminded that you are human. Finite. The first time he wrapped his hand around your throat and squeezed with calculation while you were laying under him, and you looked up at him in fear for your life. Your little hand couldn't even wrap around his wrist, much less provide resistance. Or when he'd pull your hair a little too roughly, and hear a crack in your delicate spine. When you'd get sick, and humbly refuse his healing. So little as a tummy ache had you writhing on your bed.
You are so weak, so small, clinging to life like there was anything for you in it, beyond Sukuna. By all means he hates all of these things. So what witchery is this, and why does he care about you so much? Why does he keep you for years, and why does your company bring him comfort he hasn't ever known in his lifetime?
Still, as much as he cares, he doesn't notice when it starts. He's trained you to tolerate pain, after all. It's no wonder you hesitate to tell him. Little things like tummyaches and colds occur to you all the time anyways, and you never complain. Sure, you've grown closer to Sukuna, but he was still your master, and the rules he instilled in you from the start were always fresh in your mind, not to be crossed. Bothering him with everything that feels off always seemed inappropriate.
And Sukuna is just like that. If you're not screaming or crying, he won't know you're in pain. But he notices that you're acting off. And how he reacts really doesn't help your case, or encourage you to speak up about your condition. ''I don't have all day. What is wrong with you?'', he sneers when he catches you pacing too far behind him.
So you just sleep longer and preserve energy for when you are with him. You don't skip around as much anymore, or spend time doing your hobbies. Food doesn't taste so great anymore. You have a cough that gives you sleepless nights because it just won't calm down. And the time you owe Sukuna starts to feel like an obligation. You start to dread it. Dread slipping up, dread annoying him or failing to satisfy him. Dread being disposable.
When things start getting worse, it's hard to hide it even from him. He was taking you from behind one night, and you were grateful he couldn't see the look on your face. You thought you could do it. Sukuna was always demanding, but he would never force you to do anything. If only you told him before you felt yourself struggling for air, and your chest closing in on itself in tightness. You reached one hand back, frantically grabbing his wrist.
''Feathers, feathers!'', words came out as gasps, and you slumped forward when he let you go. You were panicked and crying by then, this kind of discomfort being foreign even to you, even after weeks of pain behind you. He hovered next to you with a puzzled look on his face. He wasn't even being that rough.
''What's wrong? Tell me.'', he said, and reached his hand to feel the warmth of your tears streaming down your face. He swiped your cheek gently. He didn't seem mad at all. Why didn't you say anything from the start?
''I just feel so sick.'', you muster up in between sobs, and shut your eyes. You were too embarrassed to even look at him.
''I see.''. His hand leaves your face, and he traces it from your neck down your spine. The pain subsided slowly, allowing you to relax and find comfort in his arms.
But the effects of his healing were short lived. Just a week later the feeling of fatigue creeps back into your life. Manageable, but lingering. And the cough persists. And it gets on Sukuna's nerves too. He's been quite patient with you, but his patience was reaching it's limit.
You're sitting by his throne as you often do, and as hard as you try to hold the cough in, you just can't help it. His hand finds the back of your neck and squeezes, turning you to him. And he looks at you with all four, terrifying eyes. ''Can you shut up?''
''I'm sorry, I'm trying -'', you stutter, but just end up coughing more. He doesn't wait for you to stop.
''Get out of here.'', and pushes you away. You stumble down the pile of bones and fall, landing on your hands and knees. You don't remember him being this cruel to you in a long time. You look back at him with teary eyes, and he looks back like the merciless monster he is. The villagers awaiting him moved to make space for your fall, taking note of the tense situation.
That day, Sukuna sends word that he doesn't want to see you until you get better. You're forbidden from going outside again, in fear that that is making your 'cold' worse. It's a lonely week in your room, until Sukuna starts to crave you again. It didn't take him a while, counting the couple days he spent convincing himself he doesn't miss you. He does. So when he sends word for you again, and the servants come back to him saying you're still not feeling well... he's worried. So worried he comes to see it for himself.
Sukuna rarely comes to your room. It's the only space you have for yourself, and he doesn't want to take that away from you. Your room is modest. You have a bed, a carpet, and a couple shelves to house the books he's gifted you. There's a desk where you can eat and read, and a doorway to the garden. There's an empty glass of water and a napkin next to your bed. You're still sleeping, but the door shutting behind him wakes you up, so he doesn't get to enjoy observing you in your natural habitat for long.
It's not the first time doors opening and closing woke you up. But you know this time is different. The servants are always quickly shuffling around the room, cleaning up and moving around. Uraume clanks with plates. There is no noise now, other than your strained breathing and a cough brewing in the back of your throat. Besides, the aura that Sukuna brings with him everywhere he goes is recognizable. Especially to you. Heavy.
You turn around, and meet the gaze of his four eyes. ''Master...'', you struggle to sit up, and even a little action like that has spots forming in your vision. Then a coughing fit hits you. You pick up the napkin and put it to your mouth.
Sukuna sees your whole body strain with the effort of coughing. And when you call him master, even your voice sounds different. He knows your morning voice. He missed hearing it, but this... this is not it. You sit with your head hung low, staring at the napkin between your hands. There's a fresh splatter of blood on it. But Sukuna scares you more than the progression of your illness.
''Are you mad at me?'', you ask timidly, meeting his gaze.
''I'm concerned.", he says and sits next to you. You curl up to make space for him. "Two weeks is a long time for a frail human like you to be sick.", he looks at you, scanning your form up and down.
"I rested and drank every tea Uraume told me to!", your defense mechanism kicks in, and you start babbling.
Sukuna dismisses you with a hand and a pained facial expression. "I know.", he says. His brows are furrowed now, and he's looking at the ground, lost in thought.
You feel guilty for annoying him again. You feel guilty for the whole thing, getting sick, draining the energy it takes him to heal you, robbing him of the time with you that he deserves. Owns. He is very generous with the way he treats you, having all that in mind.
You tug on his sleeve. "I'm sorry, Master... You deserve better.", and you're sobbing again. Sukuna gives you a pathetic look, but smiles as he pulls you into his embrace.
"Silly pet. I can survive a couple weeks without your assistance.", he says, rubbing your shoulder.
You run your fingers against the back of his hand mindlessly, not knowing how to respond. Caressing his knuckles, bones, veins... feeling his nails and their sharp tips against your sensitive skin. When you bring his palm up to your lips, your kiss stains it red with blood.
-
You still sleep with Sukuna sometimes. Less frequently, only on days when you feel well enough, and those are rare. You've lost weight by now, sickness making itself visible on your body. You're sitting on his lap and clinging to your robes, scared that he won't like you as much, that you won't live up to his standards. But Sukuna's demeanor about your illness has changed, as he seemed to sense something unusual about it. He flips you over so gently, like you're made of glass, and peppers kisses from your neck downwards, slowly undressing you as much as you allow him. When he takes you, he's so careful. Constantly checking you're comfortable and enjoying yourself. You feel so loved and relaxed, and pleasure comes so easy when you're in this state. It's not the first time Sukuna is this caring with you in bed, but this time is different. This time you can't help but feel like he's saying goodbye.
He holds you afterwards, tracing his fingers over the ridges of your spine and your shoulders. You were always little in his grasp, but now that he feels your protruding bones under his fingertips, you seem all the more vulnerable.
"Will you kill me?", you ask, breaking the silence.
Sukuna frowns. "Nonsense. Why would I do that?"
There's a gulp in your throat. "It won't be long before I can't even do this. I won't be of any use to you then...", you say.
"Stop.", he says sternly. "There's a lot more to you than what you provide me with in bed."
You smile to yourself, but there's still a hole in your chest. Your statement is still true, and you aren't comforted. But this is Sukuna, and you know that he's offered you quite a lot even with that little bit of reassurance. To your surprise, he speaks again.
"Don't upset yourself. It's been a long time since killing you crossed my mind.", he says. "Save the energy for something else."
You nod and thank him. Just moments later, you're asleep. Quicker than ever before, he notes. You usually love it when he lets you cuddle and talk to him. You would force your eyes open when you were sleepy, just to enjoy it longer.
He feels guilty. He's your master, he's responsible for your well being. Yet nothing he does seems to help you long term. Healing you is temporary and he knows that without accessing the source, it will never work. If he could, he would find what was making you sick and rip it out of you with his bare hands, crush it with the force of his palm. He would have to look deeper, open you, and for once, he thinks he can't open a human being. He thinks of you trashing, screaming, and worst of all, looking into his eyes. Just the thought of you like that makes his chest feel like a gaping cavity. Worst of all, he's sure you would let him. He's sure you would forgive him for spilling your blood, and find comfort in his arms again. If you survived, that is. What has he done to you? And to himself?
Now, your head rests on his chest, and you're snoring lightly. For once, a repetitive noise like that doesn't annoy him. For once, he wishes he could listen to it every night. One day, that noise will be the only thing audibly confirming you're still alive.
-
Months pass and you're only getting worse. You barely leave your room now, too weak to even do so. You eat little, and it's showing in your sunken cheeks and eyes. You feel yourself withering away, loosing color, drying like a dying flower. Sukuna is in grief. He struggles to look at you, and visiting you falls heavy on him every time. He always finds himself thinking afterwards. Regretting that he let himself get this attached, wishing that he could simply forget you. But it doesn't work that way.
He goes to see you, after avoiding you for a week. He's Sukuna, he doesn't have any shame. You're sleeping, like you usually are when he comes to visit you. Your snoring is laboured, and it sounds painful. This time, the doors and the silence don't wake you up. He watches you, curled up under a stack of blankets, rising and falling with your struggles to breathe. How foolish he was, to think forgetting you would be as easy as avoiding you for days. How evil he was, trying to forget you while you are still alive under his wing, still his responsibility. Still his.
He sits next to you and leans over you, fingertips ghosting over your face. The snoring stops and you flutter your eyes open, turning in bed and feeling his body next to yours. You smirk at him, eyes adjusting to the light, and smile when you recognize him. ''Master.'', your arms wrap around his neck as you welcome him, your voice dry, but lively as you beckon him closer. ''I missed you.''.
He comes down to plant a kiss to your forehead. ''I missed you too, darling.''. Oh, the things that escape his mouth when he's alone with you. He cups your face, enjoying how much healthier you look with a smile on your face. ''Feeling any better?'', he rubs your cheek, lingering closely above your face.
You nod, but both of you know you only feel better because you saw him. Still, the little surge of happiness that brings you gives you more energy than you've had the whole week. You wiggle to the edge of the bed, making space and inviting him to join you. Sukuna lies down, hooking one arm underneath your neck and pulling you flush against him.
You wrap your arm around him and lean your head against his shoulder. He's still as big as you remember him, unfaltering in the face of your illness. It's comforting. ''You didn't visit in a while. Were you busy?'', you ask, stroking his back. ''How were your days?''
''Monotone.'', he says. ''The villagers bring remedies for you every day, and wish for you to get well.'' It's no wonder. So many times, Sukuna found himself hesitating to kill just because you were sitting on his knee, dressed in something too pretty to be splattered with blood. In the local villages, word spread that you have ''domesticated'' Sukuna. As if such a thing was possible. Or was it?
''Oh?'', you smile. ''I didn't think they would notice my absence.''. You always were supposed to be Sukuna's accessory and nothing more. Remedies and good wishes make it sound like you're more important than just a pet. So it really is that obvious...
''They did.'', he says, and lowers his head, brushing his nose against your face. ''Some took that as an opportunity to gift me new pets.''
You blink at him, a bit taken aback by his honesty. You keep smiling anyways. ''Did you take any?'', you ask, and he sees nothing but genuine curiosity in your eyes. The truth is, you've had a lot of time to think about your place in Sukuna's mansion. You knew, especially in sickness, that you were never entitled to exclusivity with him. You knew that at some point you would have to be replaced, just by the virtue of being a mortal. A human, who would age and become ugly, wrinkled and useless. You were just unlucky enough to meet this fate sooner than you should've.
Sukuna sighs, the weight of the conversation shifting to him. ''Not to bed, no.'', he says.
You're quiet while you think of what to say. You still have a habit of picking words when you're with Sukuna, but the times when he would punish you for improper formulation are far behind you. "Why not?", you settle. You hope the implication is there, that you wouldn't be so mad even if he did.
Why not? Because he thinks it might break him. Because the image of someone else in your place, under him, feels unnatural and wrong. He thinks the guilt might eat him alive. For once in centuries, someone else's needs come before Sukuna's. He is gone, so far gone. You've raised his standards, and he's not sure anyone he takes now will be able to live up to them. Besides, training a new pet to fit your mold would take years, and even then... He couldn't train someone to love him. Not like you do.
''I wouldn't want you to hold back because of me.'', you say, and he realizes he's been quiet for too long. Years ago, if you dared to imply that Sukuna would do such a thing as hold back because of you, that he cared, you would've been minced meat ready for dinner. Now, he looks down at you tenderly when you say it. Well, a tender look from Sukuna is a docile one. You've gotten used to the way that Sukuna communicates love. Subtly, innocuously.
''Worry about getting well, pet.'', he shuts down the conversation, and moves away from you, sitting back on the bed. ''Any wishes? Food? Activities?'', he asks, and feels your forehead with the back of his hand.
Food? No, but... ''I'd like you to stay, please.'', you say, and take his hand with the two of yours, feeling it up with your thumbs.
Sukuna resists the urge to roll his eyes, knowing the thought of annoying him would upset you greatly. ''That's a given. Anything else?''
You pretend to think, then just babble your favorite food. Sukuna takes your order to Uraume. But when he comes back, you're already asleep again. He waits by your side, but you don't wake, so eventually he leaves. By the evening, the plate of your favorite food remains untouched.
-
You can't leave the bed on your own anymore. Sukuna carries you outside when you're feeling good enough. You barely have the strength to latch onto him securely. Still, it's hard to slip out of the grasp of his four arms. He says you've gotten pale. You lay in his lap and bask in the sun, while he tells you about his day or reads a book out loud for you to enjoy. You wish you could talk to him more, but your voice leaves you as days of endless coughing wreck your throat. No herbs and teas ease your condition anymore. You wait for your final day.
And Sukuna doesn't know when he's given up on the idea that you might get better. But he starts spending whole days with you, leaving your side only to sleep in his bed. He tends to almost all your needs personally. You think that if you asked him to get on his knees for you, he would. He is not familiar with this ache that brews in his chest when he looks to his side and doesn't see you there. It feels violating. To be as powerful as he is, and yet completely helpless in the face of the sickness that drains you in front of his very eyes.
He plays with your thinning hair one morning, and you look at him from his lap, as adoringly as always. ''Isn't it funny?.'', you say, and he snaps out of his thoughts to look at you. ''I always imagined dying by your hand.'', you kiss his hand again, planting your dry, blue lips against his knuckles. ''Who would have thought?''.
You, you little human. You made him feel like a fool, like a coward. You made him feel powerless. Who could ever get away unscathed with making Sukuna feel like this? The thought of killing you now, even out of mercy, fills him with horror. He thinks he couldn't live carrying the burden of your death on his back. It's already hard for him as is.
When he's not with you, he withers away in his room, waiting. And when the servants finally come, and tell him you're at your last strengths, he feels as tense as he feels relieved. The servants shake in fear of his reaction, and he simply dismisses them. In a thousand years of his existence, he doesn't remember having to prepare to enter a room. His hand trembles as he brings it up to push the door open. He dreads what awaits him inside.
He expected blood, hysteria, chaos, yet there's none of it when he walks in. Just the pained noises of your breathing. A servant, your favorite, sits by your side and wipes sweat off your forehead. She talks to you in a comforting tone and pats your head gently. When he walks in the room, she lowers her head and moves to leave. It's only a second, but he sees the sad look on your face. ''Stay.'', he orders, and the servant bows and thanks him.
You move your attention to him, raising your hand to greet him weakly. He picks it up and bends down to kiss it. There's tears in your eyes as he settles into a seat next to you, and you open your mouth in an attempt to say something.
''Easy now.'', he shushes you, and helps you into his lap. You lean back, looking at him through a blur. His features appear even more doubled through the tears, and you still find his beauty mesmerizing. Your master. Your own little god and protector. Although he regrets it, you've never claimed the title of his spouse. Yet, he still stuck by your side, until parted by death. In sickness and in health.
He wipes your tears, and the mouth he conjures onto his hand kisses your forehead. One set of his hands caresses your face, the other massages the tension out of your bony shoulders. Sukuna knows how important it is for you to pass in peace. He doesn't want to curse you, or have despair turn you into a curse. "Relax now.", his voice is so soothing, as if lulling you to sleep. "It won't be long". You weep. What did an ordinary human like you do to deserve this honor? To be comforted on their death bed by a god. To be guided to death by him.
"Master.", you sob. "I'm so scared..."
Delicate touch against your skin. Sharp nails grazing your cheek ever so slightly, just barely enough to make their presence known. "Have no fear.", Sukuna looms over you like a snowdrop. "Where you go now, pain won't follow.". You speak to him a little longer. Tell him all the things you always wanted to tell him, but were scared of the consequences. Dangerous words, ones that were rarely associated with Sukuna. Love. And Sukuna is attentive, so human. Your blinking slows and you find comfort in his voice, as he returns every loving word back to you. Your pained breathing follows, and your eyelids are so heavy. But the sight of him is so hypnotizing, you wish you never had to look away. "You are so brave, my little dove. Go now, be free.". You were too good for this wretched palace anyways. The sight of him is etched in your memory as you close your eyes. "It was a pleasure to have you by my side.", you listen, feeling control over your body slip through your fingers. When you can't move, or feel his touch, you still hear his calm voice. "When you're ready, come back to me. I'll be waiting for your return.". Then everything is quiet, for you and for him. The servants cries are muffled by the sheets, where she has her head pressed by your side.
The hallways, silent except for the busy tapping of feet. Outside, the wind blows petals off of blooming flowers, leaving them bare and stranded. Autumn is here to carry you away.
Servants hold their breath when Sukuna walks by. One wrong look at him and the walls would be painted red. Just like before. Before you. And it's not long before Sukuna looks like a monster again - red eyes and a permanent frown etched on his face. Villagers bring bouquets, and lay them to the right of his throne, where you used to sit. He stares them all down, and only for a moment thinks that maybe, humans are not the scum he thought they were. But then he remembers, they only mourn you because you held him back from his destructive tendencies. Scum.
And he kills again. The first is a villager from afar, where news of your passing hasn't reached. Ripped to shreds for mentioning you. The women who screamed, their blood soaks the carpets and seeps through the wooden floor, dripping down to the cellars. He feels like himself again, unhinged, unbeatable.
Until the day is over, and he goes back to his empty room. His cold, empty bed, and the old habit of reaching for you in his sleep, only to grab nothing instead. And the crocheted figures of the two of you on his nightstand, watching him as he struggles to sleep alone. He can't bear it. So he leaves, and doesn't come back for days, weeks, months.
Smoke clouds the skies on the horizon once again, after years and years of peace and clarity. As far as the eye stretches, the world will know of Sukuna's wrath. But as thrilling as it feels to conquer again, when the village is burned and ash covers the grass on the ground, the thought of you still lingers. Your devastated eyes the first time he's killed before you. The first time he's felt guilty about his monstrous nature. When he comes back, no one's warm embrace awaits him. No one's there to brighten up his day. No amount of blood shed and villages burned replace the emptiness you left behind in his heart.
The grief settles, and sits heavy in Sukuna's chest, as he assumes position in his lonely throne again, and gazes at the row of people waiting to beg, talk, offer... bore him. Another eternity of boredom. An eternity of picking through thousands of humans, in vain hopes of finding you again. In vain hopes of recognizing you, even if it's lifetimes from now, when the last memory of your face has already faded from his mind. When generations change, and the thought of a monster like Sukuna being capable of tenderness vanishes. When the fire in his chest, ignited by love, is already a memory so distant, that recalling it feels surreal.
Maybe he will forget you by then. Maybe times will harden him again, and the idea of a pet becoming his lover will make him laugh. But for now, the thought of finding you in a crowd, taking you in his arms and never letting go, is his comfort and safe place. For now, he will wait for you. As long as it takes, like a stone, unyielding against the passing of time.
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lyrefromthesea · 3 months
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Please could I request all the hashira being in denial that they have a crush on hashira!reader. I hope you’re having a wonderful day 💙💙💙
Male pillars x Reader - Denial is a thing
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pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader
content warning: none
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type 1 - i don't have enough time for romance, meaning it doesn't exist.
he is the type of person who is fully obligated to his duty. saving people and taking care of others has gotten natural to him.
the demon slayers of lower rank have come to trust him, look up to him, he couldn't disappoint them. he knew how it was to be scared, now he needed to take away the fear others felt.
naturally, he didn't understand why he found his attention shift, suddenly not thinking of his mission anymore.
yet nothing was different, he got a mission assigned, another slayer joined him, you both tried to defeat the demon.
that's right, you.
you were different, you were the thought occupying his mind. he thought it was fine at first, but when he got distracted during the fight, he realized just how severe the connection to you could be.
he would try to keep your relationship professional, strictly related to work, but he couldn't stop himself from learning more about you while you took care of his wounds.
...Gyomei, Rengoku
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type 2 - i don't even know what happened, this can't be true.
this was stupid, utterly and absolutely stupid. in no world was it possible for him to fall in love with you.
..right?
you were a nice person, someone he could rely on. fear was evident on your face when the situation got severe, but you pushed through, because you wanted to save the people around you - even him.
he didn't understand, you weren't a hashira, yet you fought with the same determination. he tried to understand, listened to your explanation.
"i can't rely on you just because you're strong, the people who chose this life decided to fight until it's over."
he felt his heart throb right at that moment, heartbeat speeding up drastically. never in his life had he heard another person talk like this.
yes, he couldn't understand how this happened.. or maybe he just didn't want to.
...Obanai, Tengen
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type 3 - i will never love again, otherwise i'll lose you too.
what makes him special is not the fact that he's denying his feelings for you, it's how he copes with it.
he wasn't stupid, of course he realized something was different when he felt his cheeks flush or how he accidentally stuttered when he tried to talk to you.
the realization hit him like a brick, immediately excusing himself, trying to never talk to you again.
he knew how this would go. he fell in love with you, he stayed by your side and like everyone else, you'll be taking away from him. it's always that way. it'll always be that way.
it's not like he couldn't stay away, he was used to being alone. other people didn't necessarily talk to him, he would just go back to his old life.
only that it was much harder this time. how come he would always run into you? not only that, but somehow he got paired up on missions with you too.
he cursed himself, nothing about this worked like he had wanted it to.
and when you silently brushed your hand against his, eventually bringing yourself to interlock your hands, he knew he had ultimately failed to stay way.
not that he cared a few months later, when he could wake up to your sleeping body next to his.
...Sanemi, Giyuu
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suiana · 3 months
Text
✎ yandere! demon who is absolutely enamoured by you. you're his perfect little angel, so kind, so innocent, and oh so caring. how could you even care for a demon like him?
✎ yandere! demon who is absolutely distraught when you tell him you have to leave him, to go do some angel duties or something... what? you're just leaving him like that? after showing him what kindness feels like? oh that won't do. not at all.
✎ yandere! demon who rips out your wings, ripping you away from your divinity that you cherished with all your heart. he knows it hurts, he knows you'll hate him for a bit. but it was justified, obviously. you were going to leave him. ...not to worry! he's sure you'll love him again soon, and maybe he'll even give you some demonic wings to match with him?
✎ yandere! demon who will do anything to keep you by his side. right beside him, that's where you belong and that's how it's going to stay.
"you ruined me!"
"yeah? and I'm a demon, sweetheart. I'm selfish and i take what i want."
your chest heaves heavily, your face absolutely distraught as the demon coos at you, cheeks flushed and a lovesick expression on his face as he holds your face in his hands. you lock eyes with him, staring straight into his deluded ones, and you can't help but let out a shaky breath.
you feel disgusting.
violated.
and most importantly, naked.
you felt absolutely naked without your wings, the wings you cherished and loved over anything else. the very wings that even god himself praised. the wings that you loved with all your heart.
and you'd never see them again.
all because this demon you showed kindness to had fallen and wanted to be selfish. all because he had wanted to keep you with him. but you suppose you couldn't expect anything different. i mean, he was a demon after all.
"oh... don't cry anymore, would you? my beautiful angel shouldn't waste their tears over some lost wings. in fact... i could give you new ones. you'd look much more alluring with some demon wings."
you freeze at his words, disgust running up your throat as you register his words. why would he even suggest such a thing?!
you glare at him venomously, eyes staring straight into his soul as you let out some irritated mumbles. the demon merely purses his lips, staring back at you before cooing once more.
"why are you looking at me like that? don't like the idea?"
duh. of course you didn't like it. why would you ever want demon wings?
you were an angel for god's sake! not a demon!
you continue to glare at him, tears rolling down your cheeks as the demon hums happily, as though he didn't just tear you away from everything you loved.
"ah... my pretty angel... i really adore you with all my heart, i do. it's just, you're so... naive sometimes."
he pauses, wiping away your tears as his thumb caresses your cheek. you say nothing, not wanting to engage with him at all. what was there to say to a man who locked you out of what you called your home?
"i love you, i made that quite obvious, didn't i? yet you were still so oblivious and decided to leave. you were going to leave me alone, baby."
he mutters, tone lowering as his eyes narrow at the memory of you telling him that you were going to return back to heaven.
he hated it. hated it oh so much. in fact, he'd get rid of your ex-home in the clouds if he could. he absolutely despises all the other heavenly beings that never spared a single glance at the lower realms of earth.
"how could you do that to me hm? don't you care about me? i know you love me too... somewhere in that heart of yours, you know you do."
he mutters, looking at you with the most obsessed eyes the world could ever imagine. you felt a shiver run down your spine, your raw wounds aching as you suddenly feel your body grow cold.
"come on darling... i know you're not like those other hypocrites up there. you're leagues better than them. really don't understand why you'd want to return back-"
"well at least they didn't rip away my wings!"
you suddenly interject, feeling your annoyance building up as you chew on your bottom lip. god damnit, was this guy emotionally dense or what?
"they didn't take away the one thing i loved the most, did they? they didn't brutally mutilate my body or defile me! they didn't take me away from ny home!"
you hiss, giving it your all against him as your eyes dart all over his face for a response. you wanted to see how he would react to it. hopefully nothing too bad though. maybe just a little bit of anger, a little irritation to help you feel slightly better.
but of course, it was as though you were no longer graced with heaven's blessings, for he was more than just 'a little bit angry'.
"baby, when have i ever defiled you? i only took away your wings, didn't i? it's not that bad. you'll learn to live without them."
he mutters, glaring back at you as his grip on your face tightens considerably. you let ot a wince, eyes shutting from the intensity he held you at. but he doesn't let up, why would he when you've got him all fired up?
"i just did what i thought was necessary. i just did what i had to do to keep you with me."
the demon states firmly, looking at you as his nails start to dig into your skin, drawing blood from how hard he was gripping. but that doesn't stop him. of course it wouldn't. he first needs to get it through your head that you and him were meant to be. that he was yours just as you were his. completely, utterly, his.
"darling don't you understand? we were meant to be together. you and me, us. we fit together perfectly like a puzzle. you can't ever leave me."
with how he was repeating that, it was really starting to get to you. it was like he was drilling it into your head like some military sargent.
"and your home is with me. not with them, not up there, not anywhere else. me. got that?"
he finally lets go, sighing softly before rubbing your shoulders gently, a total 180 from how he was acting just seconds ago. you watch as the demon goes back to cooing over you, gently rubbing your arms as he sings praises about you.
all you could do was stare at him, chewing on your bottom lip as you think of how you'd critically approach this problem, just like how you always would before you had your wings torn from you.
...
none.
zero solutions come to mind.
maybe you should simply pass away? because there's no way in hell you're resigning yourself to a fate with him. both angels and demons never die after all.
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gojosatorubrainrot · 4 months
Text
Scars don't define you💫
Summary: Gojo starts to feel insecure about your love for him because of his scars
Feat: Gojo Satoru x reader
Content: fluff, mentions of Gojo vs Sukuna fight, reassuring, body insecurities, husband!Gojo x Wife!Reader. Ch 261 doesn't exist lol
Wc: 1121
Author's note: Hi!! I've never thought I will ever be doing this but here we are! Encouraged by my gojo friends in discord to continue this drabble🥰 Sorry in advanced for my poor grammar, English is not my first language 🫡
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The Shinjuku incident meant a reborn for the the strongest sorcerer, and you, his wife as well. You almost lost the love of your life by the hands of the King of Curses. At first, you thought everything was over when you saw him laying down on the floor, his lifeless body starting to be covered by the heavy snow storm that had began to fall minutes earlier.
You felt useless, after all, you were a non sorcerer, so,as a civilian, you didn't to have another choice than staying where Shoko and the others were watching the battle being broadcasted.
But its been a long time since that jumpscare and you thanked every existent God and also Shoko for bringing your reason of living back to your arms.
Satoru and you both were laying in bed together, you are running your fingers along his scarred face; each fingertips of yours feeling every single injury of his skin.
As you continue with your doing,he closes his eyes at the softness of your sweet touch, at first, he enjoys it a lot, he always loved the way you did it, always being careful as if he was a glass meant to break, but fear set up on his mind;he thought you hated his scars, that you despise them and  those marks ruined his pretty face, that you wouldn't love him anymore and, eventually, you would leave him alone as everyone did during his life, but this time, he wouldn't have a reason of living because you are his everything.
He doesn't even want to think how a life without in it would be, how alone he would feel again just like he did after Suguru's departure.
When that event occurred, when he was ordered to kill his best friend, he has never felt so useless as a sorcerer, but most of all, as a human being, so that was the reason he chose to stay alone for the rest of his days, to prevent someone from getting hurt by the mere fact of being involved with him. That was his idea until he met you at his favorite kikufuku store. He didn't believe in love at the first sight until he met you nor how does it feel to be in love until you.
you, his everything
He was afraid of losing you again, but now it was because of his appearance, he hated those scars because that meant you won't call him pretty angel or pretty face ever again. On the other hand, they were his reminder of a second opportunity, an opportunity he would take advantage of. His second chance to make things right and spend as much time as he could with you: not spending nights working or on mission trips, only with you, his home.
Now he is debating if telling you or not about his insecurity with his scarred skin, because he thinks you would laugh at this and ignore him, but call him silly for thinking that.
As he thinks about that, he sits up, preparing to get his shirt on. You can see how the mood changed, how an intimate moment filled with love and adoration became one filled with insecurities and non spoken words. He is looking for his shirt to put it on and leave the bedroom towards the balcony, so he can spare his mind off a little bit.
You wonder why he was feeling troubled and why he decided to ignore you and not talking with you as he has always done before. You are hesitant about ask him or not, you always wanted to give Satoru his space, you always respected that because after some time, he will come to you and tell you everything between thousands and thousands sorry for not telling you before.
All you can see now is his scarred back, and your intuition is screaming at you to do something so he could open himself up to you. After few seconds, an idea popped up in your mind; while satoru has his head between his hands, you approached to him slowly trying to not get noticed.
Satoru, who was lost in thoughts, suddenly felt your plump and soft lips along his scared back, giving it small pecs and smooches, replacing your lips with your small fingers tracing every single scar. He didn't understand what you were doing so he let you do so. Suddenly,he feels something he has only felt with you and you only: loved, adored, cherished, he was seen as a human, not a pretty face as he has been called few times, the strongest weapon for the jujutsu society, he was Satoru Gojo for you, your Toru.
He turned his head to where you were tracing your fingers and stared at you: you were focused and determined to make him feel alive again.
His small chuckle made you look up and meet those blue eyes you fell in love with many years ago;
"Hi sweets" he whispered without looking away" What are you doing?"
"Hi Toru" you giggled at that nickname he gave you only when you both were in an intimate moment "Nothing, just admiring your beauty" you responded never looking away from his mesmerizing blue eyes.
"Nothing about me is beautiful, princess" he said defeated. "Look at me" he pointed at his scarred skin, despising it, hating it.
"I'm looking at you, Toru. I'm always looking at you and all I see it's the prettiest, the most caring, loving man that I've ever met" you said putting his face in between your hands "I love you,Toru. If you ever think those scars will stop me from loving you, I must tell you don't me well. These scars are telling me that you are here" you give him a kiss in the tip of his pinky nose "alive, with me in our home"
After yours words, Satoru’s eyes immediately fill with tears, but before you notice, he closes his eyes to stop them and leans his head to your warm and reassuring touch, a warm feeling inside his chest arises.
He feels so grateful with you, you are his everything.You stopped caressing him at the moment he opens his eyes, blue like the ocean itself "I love you, angel" he says at the same time you started caressing the scar across his cheek.
"I love you too, Satoru and remember that you can tell me any trouble or inconvenience you are living through, okay? I'll always love you until my last breath" you said finishing the sentence with a quick kiss, which is immediately reciprocated 
With this Satoru knew that he would never feel alone again.
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mrsparrasblog · 5 months
Text
POLY 141 x pregnant Reader
reaction if they are the biological father. if they are not the Dad
Postpartum Depression
Ever thought about what it would be like to be pregnant with this gigantic pile of handsome men? Because I've thought about it, and I can go into heavy detail—I will go into heavy detail!
Price: This man has a heavy breeding kink, and no one can convince me otherwise. He was so happy when he found out you were pregnant that he immediately got into heavy Dad mode. "What do you mean?" he asked after you told him he doesn't need to baby-proof the house when you're only in the second month. He attends baby preparation courses with you and overall turns into a super daddy.
Johnny: The second one with a heavy breeding kink is 100% sure he is the father. "It's the MacTavish genes," he says confidently. "We're going to have at least three bairns by the end of the five-year mark." He wouldn't admit it, but he called his mother crying while he told her the news. The MacTavish Family was special, so they all came with big stroller gifts and the urge to overwhelm you with their love. They don't care who the baby's biological father is; in their hearts, you're a MacTavish, exactly like your sweet little bairn.
Kyle: He is really excited. He already loves the baby and is also 100% sure it's his because you two have the most sex out of all of them. He always fights with Johnny about who the father probably is. Kyle is the one who thinks the most about you. He knows how you struggle with the pregnancy and how it isn't easy for you with all the overwhelming baby daddies around you, so he takes his time to care about you. He compliments you more than ever, and if you have a weird craving, he's already ordered it before you even said a word. He is constantly trying to find a baby-safe option of your favorite food. He doesn't drink coffee anymore so you don't mourn alone. Check-up? He is the first to be there, and when the baby was born and everyone looked at it, he went to you. Not because he loves the baby less—it's his world—but because he was so afraid the whole pregnancy of losing his soulmate, the only thing worth fighting for, the only thing that kept him alive.
Ghost: He never wanted kids—at least he thought he didn't—but it made sense with you. He knew you would be the best mother in the world. So why was he so afraid? He thought about how he could hurt the baby all the time with his pure strength or how he would scare the baby or hurt you. For a blissful second, he thought maybe it would be better if he left so you'd be safe from all the shadows of his past. But he was better than his family. He bought lots of parenting books, went to his psychologist regularly, and attended dad meetings, not daddy meetings—a terrible mistake he made. He even bought you a guard dog for the possibility that you and the baby are alone. To his surprise, but not to yours, he was the most gentle and understanding dad there ever was.
Dont ask me why my brain came up with this weird stuff again but Im already thinking about how they react when they found out who the biological father is lol
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froggiewrites · 1 month
Text
Wanting
Pairing: Sanji x Reader
NSFW
Summary: You have never wanted anyone more than you want Sanji. You don't want to admit it, but as you end up alone together on a new island, the universe seems determined to make you. Warnings: Smut, There Was Only One Bed, Possessiveness (a bit from both Sanji and Reader), Reader really matching Sanji's energy on the horniness here Word Count: 5.6k Crossposted from Ao3
You had never wanted anyone more than you had wanted Sanji.
You hated to admit that tragic, embarrassing fact, but it was true all the same. You wanted him. You had always known you’d liked Sanji, from the moment you met and he threw himself at your feet, knew you found him endearing and silly, but wanting him? That was different. Wanting was real. Wanting was demanding. Wanting had you pacing the deck after yet another dirty dream about your silly little cook, trying to calm down enough to be able to face him at breakfast.
Your bare feet hit the grass of the Sunny’s deck as you pray that this will pass, that you’ll be able to see your dear friend without yearning for him so deeply it threatens to rip a hole in your chest, but every time you close your eyes you can still feel his lips against yours and see his face twisted in pleasure. You huff with frustration, throwing yourself down to lay on your back and stare at the sky. Maybe the morning sun will burn out your retinas and you won’t have to worry about seeing his face at all anymore.
“You alright down there?” His voice is still raspy from sleep, and your eyes shoot open as you use all the willpower you have not to rub your thighs together.
“Sanji!” Your voice is an octave higher than you would have liked to admit. “Hi! Good morning! Um, yeah. I’m uh–I’m fine. Peachy.”
Don’t think about it. Don’t think about his hands reaching down to grab you. Don’t think about how his dick would feel in your mouth.
Fuck. Damnit.
“Are you sure? You’re a little red.” You finally look up to see his face, his hair a little mussed and his eyes softened with concern. You want to kiss him. God, you want to kiss him.
“I’m okay, I’m just, uh. A little hot. That’s all.” You focus anywhere but his eyes, those beautiful kind eyes, because you know if you focus on his eyes you’ll do something you’ll regret. Or maybe you wouldn’t regret it at all, because you’d finally know what his lips feel like.
No. Not now. Not ever. You are not all hot and bothered over Sanji. Not your dear friend Sanji, who is looking at you with so much care it makes you physically ache.
“Do you want to come inside? I can make you something to cool you down.”
You picture being alone together in the kitchen, his practiced hands and talented fingers moving with such purpose as he slices and dices, just to make something to please you. You picture those fingers moving with a different purpose, working for a different pleasure. If you go in that kitchen you fear you’ll do something you can’t take back. “I’m alright! I just need to lay here.” Your voice definitely just audibly cracked.
His face falls a little at the idea that you won’t come with him. You try not to let your heart flutter at the idea he wants you around. That he wants you alone with him. “Alright, well come on in if you change your mind, okay? I’ll do–make. I’ll make anything you want.”
What was that?
Your imagination, surely.
“Of course, Sanji. I’ll let you know if I need you–anything.”
“Right.”
“Yeah.”
You stare at each other for a moment before he turns and walks into the kitchen without even a goodbye, and if you didn’t know better you would think the tips of his ears were red. Surely not, though.
You cover your face and groan, rolling onto your front to block out the world. You hear sets of footsteps pass as your other crewmates wake up and decide to leave you to your misery instead of asking. A small mercy, but one you’re grateful for.
Once you finally manage to drag yourself off of the ground, your thoughts filled with simple, unsexy things like cold showers and paint drying, you make your way to the kitchen for breakfast. You come in only on the tail end of the meal and conversation, hearing Nami’s voice dictating how things are going to go on the next island.
“—need to make sure we aren’t separated. There’s an island-wide curfew, and we need to make sure that none of us break it. We don’t want to risk drawing attention to ourselves.” You can’t see her face but you are familiar with the scathing side-eye she’s almost certainly giving Zoro and Luffy right now.
“Why are you looking at me?” Zoro’s voice is defensive in the way it only gets when he knows whatever he’s being accused of is inarguably true.
Nami sighs. “It’s too early for this. Anyway, we’re going to pair up to make sure no one gets stranded alone on the island just in case we miss curfew. I wrote all of our names on pieces of paper, and I’m going to draw–”
“Why do you get to draw?”
“Yeah I wanna draw! I’m the captain!”
“It doesn’t matter who–”
You tune them out for your sanity as you retrieve your plate from Sanji’s outstretched hands. He gives you a soft, sincere smile that cuts to your core. He looks so wonderful like that, when he isn’t trying to woo you and he’s just being…Sanji.
“I kept it warm for you.” He leans closer so you can hear him over the din of voices behind you. Your eyes are level with his chest, his shirt unbuttoned halfway so you can see his entire torso. You need to look away. You need to stop ogling.
You don’t.
“Thank you,” you murmur distractedly. You don’t know if you’re thanking him for the breakfast or for the clear view of his happy trail.
His chest gets closer, and you feel his warm breath against your ear. “Of course. Anything for you.” He’s so close. You could so easily put your lips against his neck. You could bite him right now, make him make such wonderful noises right here in front of everyone.
“Hey, are you two even listening?” Nami’s annoyed voice rings out from the table behind you.
You both stand at attention like navy soldiers the moment she calls for you. Her tone means business. That silly argument earlier seems like it soured her mood for the entire day.
“Of course, Nami!” Your tone rings false, and she gives you a dour look that you shrink under.
“Ugh. Whatever. Important bits: we’re staying paired up on this island. Be back before dark. Don’t draw attention to yourselves. Got it?”
“Yes, Nami!” You both chorus.
“Great. I’ll start pulling names.”
Your captain pouts. “But I–”
“I’m pulling names.”
“Awww.”
The pairs came quickly: Brook and Usopp, Franky and Robin, Luffy and Chopper, and Nami and Zoro (to Sanji’s audible displeasure). You laugh along with everyone else for just a moment at Sanji’s fit before you realize what it means.
“God, if it pisses you off that much then just switch partners with me!” Zoro’s voice is filled with annoyance, his eye turning to you.
Sanji pauses for a moment, his eyes finding yours, and you can see pure and utter euphoria hit him when he realizes. The fury at Zoro’s suggestion hits a moment after. “No way in hell, mosshead!”
The bickering continues, as it always does, and you try to calm your thoughts once again. A day alone with him. A date, perhaps. You imagine at first walking hand in hand while shopping, stopping in a cafe to enjoy together, and other simple domestic things that make a small lovesick smile make its way onto your face.
And then you remember your dream, hear his lovely voice cry out in a broken whine, and your silly daydreams turn to dark alleys and frantic, fumbling hands taking what they need before you’re caught. You imagine getting to run your hands down his torso, following the teasing trail of hair you saw earlier down, wrapping your hands around him and making him whimper.
You stop your thoughts because you are in front of an audience and are going to lose your sanity if you allow yourself another moment of this.
Sanji and Zoro have stopped fighting, and the crew is pairing off as everyone decides their tasks for today. Zoro has been designated Nami’s shopping bag holder, and his protests fall on deaf ears as the conversations continue without him. You and Sanji will be grocery shopping, of course. He has the list ready to go, which means all you need to do is keep him company and try not to get jealous when he inevitably hits on a stranger. You can do that, grit your teeth and give tight-lipped smiles that hopefully hide the taste of iron on your tongue. Maybe if you’re lucky she’ll reject him, refuse to give him the time of day, and he’ll turn to you as he licks his wounds. He’ll find comfort in you, and you’ll gladly give it. You can ease the sting of rejection as he eases the yearning ache in your chest.
As the crew moves to leave the kitchen, Zoro begins to lean over to you, presumably to make some gruff joke about how miserable your day will be with Sanji, wearing a smug grin hiding the boyish amusement he gets from teasing the man he would never admit is his friend. Before you can hear it, give him a soft laugh and a roll of the eyes, your vision is filled with the soft blue of a slightly unbuttoned shirt and there’s a large, gentle hand on the small of your back.
“I said hands off, mosshead.” Sanji’s voice holds more hostility than you’d expect. Most days even their worst of fights have an air of levity to them that they would never admit, but this has real anger behind it, venom spitting from his lips in a way you had never heard. The hand on your back presses firmly, commandingly, in a way that makes your knees weak. “Let’s go, angel.” His voice softens, then, not filled with the candied sweetness he saves for his usual flirtations, but the type of tender sincerity and affection saved only for a small inner circle you are forever grateful to be a part of.
“What, I can’t talk to her? Possessive pervert.” There’s less anger behind Zoro’s words and more confusion, but you can hardly hear it as the door slams firmly shut behind you. Sanji’s breathing is labored with anger, his shoulders drawn tight, but you hardly notice over the feeling of his fingertips on your back, brushing just above your ass, so close to moving lower. His hand moves to your hip instead, grabbing firmly, not enough to bruise but enough that you couldn’t leave if you wanted to.
“Sanji? Are you alright?” Your voice is hesitant as you try to keep the lust out of it, but he seems to take it as discomfort. His eyes widen, his hand immediately leaving you, and you can’t help but let out a soft whimper at the loss. He, of course, takes this as pain.
“Oh god, darling did I hurt you? I’m so sorry, I–”
“You didn’t hurt me, Sanji, I’m fine. I was just worried about you.” You give him a reassuring smile, teeth only slightly clenched from concentrating on anything other than how strong he felt, on how good it felt to be held, on the feeling that his fingerprints have been burned onto your skin even though the fabric of your shirt.
His face is troubled, his eyes watery from even the idea of hurting you, but he relaxes when you take his hand in yours, gently rubbing his knuckles with your thumb. “I’m fine. I just can’t stand the idea of you running off with mosshead and him getting you lost. He’d probably leave you alone in the woods somewhere.” The words ring falsely in your ears. He hates to admit it, but he trusts Zoro to protect you, no matter the situation. The safety of the crew is one of the few things they’ll always agree on. He does not and would never think Zoro would leave you for dead.
“He wouldn’t do that.”
Sanji goes quiet, unable to bring himself to disagree, to lie to your face a second time. What was he thinking? “Yeah, I…I know.” His voice is weak and strained, but before you can pry further he starts to walk ahead, pulling the grocery list out of his pocket, clearly shutting down the conversation. You stare longingly at his back for a moment, at his broad shoulders, before following in his footsteps.
Shopping is tense, at first, as he tries and fails to calm down, but you eventually find a rhythm. You both fall into each other, a brush of the hands here, a hand on the arm there, the pull so magnetic you cannot help but follow it. Eventually you find yourselves walking hip to hip, you holding his arm, pressing it to your chest incredibly deliberately as he tries and fails to pretend he doesn’t notice. He keeps sneaking glances at you out of the corner of his eye, and you revel in the attention, preening under his wanting gaze. Your thoughts are about nothing but him, nothing but his shining blue eyes lingering on your chest, nothing but the hard stops he keeps making so your tits press even harder into his bicep.
He’s looking at you. God, he’s looking at you, no one else. Your chest tightens at the idea it could always be like this, that he could be yours.
Neither of you notice how late it’s gotten until the sun is already more than halfway behind the horizon. You’re reluctant to break the tension as he pulls you closer when you walk past a group of rowdy drunks, but you remember Nami’s warnings and your blood runs a little cold.
“Um, Sanji? Do you know what time it is?”
He checks his watch with no sense of urgency, clearly not grasping the situation. “It’s almost nine, why?”
“Curfew is at nine thirty, isn’t it? And the ship is…” you think for a moment, “about an hour away?”
He stops in his tracks, causing your chest to press against him again. “Ah.”
A beat of silence.
“Nami’s going to kill us.”
“I think you’re right.”
“The marines will notice us if we’re out past curfew.”
“Right again, my dear.”
“We’re fucked.”
“Mhm.”
More silence, stretching further and further as reality sinks in.
“I…guess we should find somewhere to stay?” Your voice is a little meek.
“I guess so.” He tries to keep his tone even, but there’s something almost mischievous behind it, something you can’t place. The ends of his lips twitch into an almost smile before he stops it. You don’t know what he’s thinking, but you pray it’s something perverted. Maybe today he’ll get brave and act on it and you’ll have an excuse to throw yourself at him, give into the feeling you’ve been fighting all day.
You both attempt to find an inn with two open rooms, but the first three are fully booked with drunks who have beaten you to it. The curfew inches ever closer, and you still have nowhere to stay. If you stay on the street and get caught by the marines, you know Nami will kick your ass for alerting them to your presence. She probably already will for how long you’re delaying your journey. You focus on Sanji’s arm resting around your shoulders to ground yourself and ignore the dread creeping in and settling in your bones.
You finally find an inn that will take you, but you immediately run into a problem. Or what you’ll pretend is a problem.
“Please tell me you have availability.” Sanji’s voice is tinged with desperation as the clock ticks down.
 The woman working the desk seems exhausted, having clearly dealt with much worse customers than yourself earlier. “Is a queen bed okay?”
“A queen bed, like singular?” You put on a good show of acting confused and a little upset, hiding your giddiness well.
“Oh, are you two not–” Her eyes are lingering on where you’re connected, your arms wrapped around his. “I’m sorry, I assumed–well. Um. We only have one room left, I assumed you would want to share it.”
“One room?” Sanji’s voice gets a little loud, and a stranger would mistake this for anger or upset, but you can hear excitement in his tone. He glances at you again, at your face, at your chest, at your legs, admiring you for just a moment, certainly imagining something that would make you flush. “Only one room?”
“I’m sorry, there’s nothing else I can do. We really only have one. If that doesn’t work–”
“It works.” You both speak quickly. You pretend you don’t see him visibly fist pump when he thinks you aren’t looking. He pretends he doesn’t see you excitedly rock on your feet, a visible twinkle in your eye. The woman hands you a set of keys, and you’re both off.
As you walk to the room, you talk around it, pretending you both aren’t absolutely thrilled by this turn of events. 
“I can’t believe they only have one room. I know it’s busy, but this place is massive. It’s hard to believe it’s fully booked.” You try to sound annoyed, but a giggle makes its way into your voice as you imagine being tucked into the single bed with Sanji’s arms around you.
“It’s ridiculous. And with only a queen bed? Not even two twins? Or a king? It’s the most inconvenient it possibly could be.” He can’t fight his smile when he says only a queen, as he imagines both of you having nowhere to run except into each other. He could cry at the idea of having an excuse to hold you close, to feel you pressed against him with your head resting on his chest. It’s so domestic he could pretend it was real.
You both perfectly match each other’s steps in this liar’s dance even when the door closes, even when there’s not a single person to call you on it but each other. You cannot admit that you want this, out of fear that it might shatter the feeling of giddy excitement surrounding you both. You cannot put to words what is happening, lest you make it real. Real has worries attached to it, questions of the future and what this all means and what it changes. If you stay quiet you stay in the dream, where instead the only thing you have to think about is the pounding of your heart and the comforting heat of another next to you.
“I can sleep on the floor,” he says, visibly upset by the idea. He has to offer you the choice, he is a gentleman, but his eyes are pleading for you to deny the idea and welcome him into your bed.
“Don’t be silly, Sanji. You don’t need to ruin your back, there’s plenty of room for the both of us.” You leave out the internal pleading for him to come closer as soon as humanly possible. He can’t know how you may be even more desperate for him than he is for you.
“You’re an angel, my dear.” His smile now is genuinely affectionate, filled with a fondness that makes your chest ache. He looks younger like this, unburdened. “Well, let’s not wait, hm? I bet you’re exhausted.” His hands reach for the buttons of his shirt, and you watch, enraptured, as he slowly undoes each of them, revealing more and more of his body to you. You’ve seen it before, due to his favor for open silly Hawaiian shirts, but you can’t help but swallow at the sight, eyes never daring to look away. He’s so beautiful. He’s so strong.
You wonder if he could break you.
You wonder if you could break him.
He slips the shirt off easily, his hands moving down to his belt, the clink of the buckle sending a shiver down your spine and breaking you out of your trance. You can’t let him undress while you stay fully clothed. It’s rude. You let your hands slide down to the hem of your shirt, swiftly removing it, and he stops in the middle of unbuttoning his pants to stare, jaw slacked. You can see him grow hard at the sight of your chest as his eyes bore holes into you. His gaze is burning, his pupils blown out, his breathing growing heavy.
“Sanji?” You reluctantly call out to break the spell, not wanting your masquerade to end quite this soon.
“Yes? What is tit–it?” His eyes haven’t moved a centimeter, honed in on where your breasts spill over your bra.
“You’re staring.” You keep your tone teasing. His eyes finally trail up to your face, where he finds a twitching smile as you try to hold back your giggles. His expression shifts from lustful to lovestruck as his eyes soften and his smile widens.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, breathlessly.
“So are you.” His smile widens further as he finally looks away from you, suddenly bashful. His cheeks are flushed slightly pink, and you finally break and huff out a laugh. It isn’t seeing you half naked that gets him, or the idea of sharing a bed, or the lustful thoughts he’s certainly been having all day. It’s a simple compliment, not even a particularly good one, that flusters your dear cook. It makes you want to take his face in your hands and place kisses all over it, with a tenderness that would make its way under his skin, marking him as well and truly loved. It makes you want to drop to your knees and worship him, take him into your mouth and not stop until he’s utterly spent and crying from the overstimulation. It makes you want him, in every meaning of the word.
But you don’t want to break the illusion yet, still a little nervous about being the first to step over the line, so instead you slide your thumbs beneath the waistband of your jeans and quickly step out of them. You make your way to the bed, making a show of throwing yourself onto your back, bouncing a little as his eyes eagerly take in the movement of your breasts, your thighs, every inch of you. After allowing him a moment to admire, you shift to pull the blankets over yourself, tucking yourself in. You’re going to play your part. But you’re allowed a moment of fun. You look up at him, doe eyes blinking and arms outstretched welcomingly. “Sanji, aren’t you coming to bed?”
He pauses for a moment, his eyes turning to your face, and in that moment you swear you can see into his head. You see dreams of the two of you intertwined, not sexually, but just…together. You see his head resting against your chest, eyes closed in absolute bliss. You see the soft sunlight of the morning bathing you both in gold, warming you to your bones. You see a different scene, the two of you in a more intimate embrace, bodies pressing closer than you thought possible, hips moving and hands everywhere, a tender moment that almost feels like worship. You see an entire life together, every little moment, and you see Sanji’s eyes fill with tears at the idea of it.
He rips his pants off, practically diving into the bed with you, and his arms wrap around your waist like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He buries his face into your chest, nosing between your breasts, and somehow still keeping up this silly ruse, he mumbles, “This bed’s pretty small. Guess we’ll have to get even closer.” He pulls you tighter, and you’re almost sure he can’t breathe from how much he’s pressed his nose into your skin. You giggle, and you can feel him smile against you. He places a kiss right against your sternum, gentle and affectionate, before pressing one up slightly higher, then one higher than that, as he makes his way up to your neck. His facial hair rubs against your skin, the ticklish feeling making you laugh even more. He places one final kiss where your jaw meets your neck before pulling up to whisper in your ear. “Can I please kiss you? I think I’ll die if I don’t.”
“Please do,” you whine out. He doesn’t wait another moment before your lips crash together, teeth briefly clacking together in his excitement before it softens into something more tender and intimate. He groans softly into your mouth, lips parting, welcoming you in. You gladly accept, and he fully pins you beneath him and you explore each other’s mouths.
His hands slide underneath you, one pulling you upward into him as the other fumbles with the clasp of your bra. The moment it releases, he swiftly tosses it behind him, breaking your kiss to stare at your chest. His mouth is slightly agape as he pants, eyes wide, taking in the sight. He looks as though he wants to speak, but nothing comes out. The silence stretches out as he takes in every inch of your breasts, before he eventually reaches a shaking hand out to brush his fingers against your skin. He lets out a quiet breath of awe. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life. A goddess. I can’t believe this is happening.”
“You took the words out of my mouth, Sanji. This is a dream come true.” Your voice is quiet with the vulnerable admission, and his eyes leave your chest to meet yours.
“You dreamed of this?” He sounds like he really truly can’t fathom the idea.
“Dozens of times. Almost every dream I have is about you. Last night I–” You stop yourself in embarrassment, face flushing.
He leans closer with an intensity he usually saves for battle. “Last night? You dreamed about me last night?” His eyes are boring into you, stripping you bare, staring straight into your heart and soul.
“Yes,” you softly admit. “I dreamed about you last night. About this. The real thing is so much better.”
“Oh god,” he breaths out, before he kisses you again, hard and fast. His hands envelop your tits, groping and squeezing. You can’t stop yourself from keening into his mouth when his fingers brush against your nipples, and you can feel him grind against you when he hears. His hardness presses against your bare thighs, showing how badly he wants you. He grabs at you like you’ll disappear between his fingers, fade away like all of the dreams that have been haunting you.
Another pinch at your nipples makes you cry out, and you pull back, begging, “Sanji, please, more!” You want to feel his fingers inside you, his tongue, his cock. Any and everything he could give you you want, and you feel so sure that he would gladly let you take it. He would give you the heart out of his chest if you asked.
He moans as his bulge rubs against your thighs again. “Fuck, of course, angel. Whatever you want.” He slides lower, and you feel his fingers slide along the fabric covering your slit. He carefully traces a path up to your clit, lightly pressing against it through your panties, making you suck in a breath. His eyes travel between your face and his fingers, taking note of your reactions.
He eventually slides off your panties, letting out a soft noise of appreciation once he’s able to see all of you. He leans closer, mumbling something you don’t quite catch, before his mouth is on you.
“Ah, Sanji!” You cry out in surprise, your thighs clenching together, and you can feel him moan against you at the pressure. His tongue moves expertly, which you suppose makes sense; Sanji is a man who knows how to appreciate a good meal. His hands reach up to grip your thighs, not to pull them apart, but to pull you even closer, hooking your legs over his shoulders as he dives further into you. His nose brushes your clit, making you keen again, and you can feel him smile against your cunt. 
You feel a familiar tension building in your gut as his tongue shifts to your clit and he inserts a finger, then two, then three inside of you, curling in a come hither motion that makes you see stars. You get noisier and noisier as the coil tightens, and Sanji only grows more enthusiastic with every moan and cry he manages to pull from you. His hips are grinding desperately against the mattress beneath you. Your thighs continue to tighten around his head, and you worry you’ll crush him, but you imagine that’s the way he’d want to go.
With one final flick of Sanji’s tongue and push of his fingers, you come unraveled around him, nearly screaming his name as you’re hit with white-hot pleasure. His fingers work you through it, only stopping when your thighs go slack around him and you let out a soft whimper. He crawls up to see your face, to see the evidence of his work, and you can see he’s absolutely covered in your wetness, his facial hair soaked in you. His pupils are blown out, his eyes nearly entirely black and looking nearly maddened with lust. He kisses you, and you can taste yourself on his lips.
“Please, please let me feel you. I need to feel you around me. Please.” His voice is ragged as he pants, a whine behind it as he begs to fuck you.
“Please,” you whimper back.
His fingers hook below the waistband of his boxers, and he slides out of them slowly. His cock stands proudly, long and thick, leaking precum. He gives you no time to admire it, swiftly lining it up with your entrance and slowly pushing himself into you, moaning into your ear at the feeling.
“Darling, you feel heavenly,” he groans. He sits still for a moment, giving you time to adjust and just enjoying the feeling of you tightening around him. “I could never have imagined how perfect you are. The dreams never did you justice.” You try to move your hips, but his hands are holding you still. You let out a whine, pathetic and wanton, and his lips tug into a smile. “Are you ready, my dear?”
“Yes, god, yes.”
He pulls himself out slowly, before reentering a little faster, the next time a little faster than that, increasing his speed bit by bit until he’s relentlessly pounding you into the mattress. He mumbles endless praise for you that gets lost between his moans, only allowing you to make out princess and tight and perfect. The room is filled with these small praises and the sound of slapping skin. You lean up to kiss him, but he doesn’t let you, instead staring intensely into your eyes, determined to see your face when you cum.
He watches your face as your orgasm grows closer, his hips speeding up and his fingers reaching for your clit. His gaze is loving, admiring, nearly worshiping, and his words at some point turn into a prayer: for you, for him, for what you’ve created here in this room to last long after the door opens and you return back to a life where this becomes real. Your orgasm hits you harshly, making you cry out, and he watches enraptured as you come apart around him. He tries to keep his pace steady, but his hips stutter as he cums inside of you, filling you with warmth.
He stays like that, cock inside of you, eyes locked onto yours. The only sound in the room is your heaving breaths, the only sensation either of you feel is the warmth of the other grounding you here.
“I think I love you,” he murmurs. “Can I say that? Can I make it real?”
You wrap your arms around him, pulling his head to your chest, cradling him there. “Please do. I want it to be real. I want you. I love you.”
He adjusts, pulling out of you, crawling up slightly to fully make his home in your chest. His shoulders shake, and you hear a sniffle. You don’t say anything, simply running your hands gently through his hair, across his cheeks, down his back.
“I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you.” He nuzzles his face even deeper into you.
“I think I’ve wanted you just as long, even if I didn’t realize it.”
“I adore you.” His voice is thick with emotion, and you think maybe this confession is deeper and more difficult than his first. 
“I adore you too, Sanji. You’re one of the most wonderful people I’ve ever met.”
You sit there, basking in each other’s presence, enjoying a world where this gets to be real. You drift off to sleep peacefully, with the reassurance that when you wake this won’t just have been another troubling dream. Nothing is more real and grounding than his arms wrapped around you, his leg thrown over you, his lips still lightly pressed against your skin. You know you’ll see him tomorrow, shining brilliantly in the sun, and walk back hand in hand. You still dream of him, but the lovesick smile he gives you when you open your eyes is better than any dream you’ve ever had.
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cesium-sheep · 2 years
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randomly sad that when matt is 80 I'll still be in my late 60s. I'll have to find someone else that can be trusted to take care of me before my partners die of old age and hard living, since it's best to assume I'll still need it. granted that's probably still well more than 40 years down the line, but I'm still randomly sad about it.
(very strange and kind of silly to be both definitely literally slowly dying Right Now but also sad about the potential of outliving loved ones who are currently still alive.)
edit: maybe it's just because acute episodes are often very lonely, and now I'm starting to come back out of the worst of it but I'm still alone. arin has to focus on herself and matt isn't here. they haven't even gotten to truly start taking care of me yet but I already feel like I have to brace for when they have to stop.
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gggukniverse · 6 months
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take me down slow | jjk
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title: take me down slow
pairing: jeon jungkook x f!reader
genre: m, smut, established relationship au
summary: jungkook is back home from work and even if you've missed him a lot, you let him rest tonight. though, out of all night, you have a wet dream tonight. and even if jungkook is tired, he's happy to take care of you.
warnings: dom!jk sub!reader, needy reader and sleepy koo 🥹, a little bit of oral (m receiving), a little bit of fingering too, unprotected sex (pls be safe), degradation (jk calls reader a whore like one time), daddy kink, kink discovery, creampie, just basically some lazy sleepy sex... until it's not so lazy.
wordcount: 2.2k
note: HELLO !!! 🫡 this is just a little story i wrote a long time ago and since part 3 of basic needs is still a work in progress i wanted to give you something to read while you wait :) this one is not edited at all so don't expect the greatest thing. either way, i hope you enjoy it 🩷
-
you open your eyes with a gasp and when you take in the dark room you realize it was just a dream. it felt too real. you can almost still feel jungkook”s hands all over your body, well, you kind of actually feel them now.
jungkook is fast asleep by your side, your legs tangled together while your arm is thrown over his middle and his is wrapped around your waist to keep you close to him even in his unconscious state.
he came home from work yesterday, it’s been almost four weeks since the last time you two were together but that’s what being an international star does to his schedule. he got home late in the afternoon and you only got to prepare dinner together and share a comfortable and much needed talk during dinner before he said he was so jet lagged and he needed to go to sleep. you needed him so bad but didn’t say a word, just went to bed with him and fell asleep together.
but out of all nights, you had to have a stupid wet dream tonight.
you’re actually sweating, your skin is hot and your underwear is starting to feel uncomfortable because you can feel it’s soaked. and jungkook is sleeping. he’s peacefully sleeping with his pouty mouth and furrowed eyebrows. you feel so bad but you need him even more, so you guess you can feel bad about it tomorrow morning.
you shift a little and get closer to his neck, giving his skin sweet little kisses as you slowly start to rut your hips against him to try and find any kind of friction on your crotch. like a bitch in heat, that’s what you feel like.
a groan escapes jungkook’s mouth at one specific suck to the side of his neck and his hand twitches where it’s placed on your waist.
“baby.” you whisper in his ear.
“yeah...” he only groans with that sleepy rasp to his voice you missed so much.
“i’m so horny.” you whine as you keep rutting against his hip.
that comment alone seems to wake jungkook up. he lifts his head a little to look down at you with what you suppose is an arched eyebrow, the little light in the room coming from the city lights through the window.
“baby.. .” he says and drops his head back on the pillow, closing his eyes again. he’s tired. you feel so bad.
“i’m sorry, i.. fuck..” you feel like crying but god, you’re so horny you don’t even think your brain is working anymore.
“it’s okay, baby.” jungkook mumbles and his hand that was on your waist goes down to squeeze one of your asscheeks out of nowhere, making you whimper on his neck.
“kook.. so horny..”
“mhm.. i know.” you swear if he keeps talking with that raspy voice you could come completely untouched.
“want you so bad.” your hand goes down to cup him over his sweatpants. he’s soft but you can definitely feel him twitching a little at the contact.
“make me hard, baby.” jungkook squeezes your asscheek again, making you moan.
“yes!” you quickly get up on your knees and throw the comforter away from his body, wasting no time in pushing his sweats down.
“good girl.” your boyfriend praises, his hand going to your hair when you bend over to blow air on his soft dick teasingly.
“missed you so much,” you take him into your hand and start giving his head little licks, feeling it slowly starting to harden on your hand. “missed your cock in my mouth.”
“missed your mouth too.” jungkook hums as he brushes your hair out of your face so he can see you.
“you’re so hot..” you whine when you feel him getting to full hardness just in a matter of seconds. you put it in your mouth, your lips wrapping around him and drowning in the groan that escapes jungkook’s mouth.
“that’s my girl.” the praise makes you so wet you could feel it running down your thighs if your underwear wasn’t soaking all of it.
you bob your head a few times to get him wet enough and pull away with a desperate moan, “kook, i need you.”
“i know, come here.” he pats his thighs. you work quickly, sitting down on his thighs and leaning down to catch his lips in a desperate kiss, trying not to grind against his cock.
“i love you.”
“i love you too baby,” jungkook chuckles fondly against your mouth. “c’mon, sit that pretty pussy on this cock, yeah?” he gives you one last kiss before putting his hands on your waist lifting the big shirt —his shirt— so he can take it off.
you’re only wearing your panties so as soon as the shirt hits the floor, jungkook groans at the sight even through te darkness in the room.
“pretty baby.” he praises, running his hands up and down your sides as you sit back on his thighs.
“i’m so wet.” you mutter, looking down at where you’re sitting in one of his thighs.
“yeah, can fucking feel it,” jungkook says. “would make you ride my thigh, but i want you on my cock,” he easily lifts you up by your hips and positions you on top of him. “take them off.”
you sit up for a second to take the ruined panties off and throw them away before sitting back down on top of him, your most sensitive part just above his cock.
“let me feel you,” jungkook brings one of his hands down and you choke on a moan when his fingers start running through your wet folds. “fuck yeah, that’s my whore, huh?”
“kook,” you whimper, grinding your hips against his hand. “fuck yes...” a little moan escapes through your lips when he slips two fingers inside.
“so little resistance, are you this needy for cock?” jungkook hums in question and you almost cry out as he slips another finger inside. you don’t tell him you’ve been using toys while he was away. either way, his fingers always feel better than any toy.
“yes, need your cock baby.”
“c’mon, sit on it.” he gives your pussy a wet slap that makes your thighs twitch for a second and then grabs the base of his cock to make it easier for you.
“okay.” you whisper and lower down, positioning on top of his cock and moaning absurdibly high when jungkook decides to drag the head of his cock through your folds.
“so wet.” he mumbles.
you think you might die if you don’t have him inside you now so you start to sink down on his cock slowly, both of you moaning in unison, until you’re sitting on top of him with his entire length inside.
“missed you so much.” you whine, feeling like you could cry.
“i missed you too baby,” he puts his hands on your hips. “so much.”
you stay there for a while, just feeling him inside as you bend down to kiss him again. he wraps his arms around you and kisses you back with so much passion you’re out of breath seconds later.
“pretty.” he looks up at you with that type of smile that makes your knees weak and you straighten up again, putting your hands on his chest for balance.
“you feel so good, kook.” you tell him because you need him to know.
“mh... yeah?” asshole.
“yes.” you moan and start grinding your hips for your pleasure, still not giving him what he wants.
“i can’t fucking see anything right now but i’m sure you’re creaming my cock so good, right?” the words make you clench around him with a whine and you hear him groan at the feeling. “so fucking tight.”
but you eventually sit up a little, letting him pull out until only his head is inside you and slowly sink down on him again. you do it slowly, still tired from how little you must’ve slept, but jungkook seems fine with it. little hums and groans escape his mouth sometimes but the time he lets out a high-pitched moan you clench so hard around him, making him moan again and grip on your hips for dear life.
“baby, god...” he breathes out. it’s clear he’s still sleepy, but it’s so fucking hot.
you lose yourself the moment his tip grazes against that spot, your hips grinding desperately for him to keep hitting it. but jungkook helps you by bending his legs a little, planting his feet on the mattress and starting to thrust up into you.
hard. you didn’t think he could be on his full potential when he’s as sleepy as he is now, but he proves you wrong fucking you so hard that you fall on top of him, your bare chest against his clothed one. yes, also the fact that he’s still half clothed and you’re completely naked makes you even wetter. but he’s slow, he gives your deep and hard thrusts but still doesn’t do it fast.
“oh my– fuck...” you breathe out against his neck, not being able to move anymore.
“feels good, baby?” he doesn’t stop fucking you, his hands also pulling your hips down to meet his thrusts so hard you know you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.
“yes daddy,” the word slips out of your mouth before you can even process it and you feel jungkook stopping completely. “fuck...” you whisper and hide your face on his neck in embarrassment. “i’m sorry, i don’t know why i said that.”
“daddy?” jungkook asks and you hate the way you don’t know what he’s thinking right now.
“i’m so sorry... fuck, that was so weird– i’m sorry baby.”
“no, let daddy hear you baby.” he suddenly starts thrusting up inside you and you let out a scream.
“kook! oh my god!” he’s fast now. fast and hard. your whole body is completely limp on top of his.
“that’s not my name, babe.”
oh fuck.
“d– daddy..” you stutter because you can’t even form words right now.
“there you go.” he chuckles and fuck, how can he chuckle while fucking you so hard, you can’t even form a single thought in your brain right now.
“fuck!” you whine when his tip keeps brushing against that sweet spot. “i’m so– i’m so close, daddy.”
“gonna cum?” he hums.
“yeah...” you cry out and the chuckle he lets out makes you clench incredibly hard around his cock.
“gonna cum on daddy’s cock?”
“fuck! yeah... yes, yes, please.” you mumble dumbly, feeling closer and closer everytime he speaks.
“please what?” jungkook hums as his hips keep that punishing pace that has you seeing stars.
“please let me cum,” you beg. “please daddy.”
“cum for me, baby.”
your orgasm washes over your whole body like a wave, leaving your legs shaking as you fall completely limp on top of his body while he keeps thrusting to cum just a few seconds after.
“fuck...” jungkook groans as he fills you up, the sensation making you squirm a little on top of him. “that’s my good girl.” he mumbles as he rubs your back up and down soothingly.
“i missed you.” you say and finally lift your head up to leave a little kiss on his lips.
“i missed you too baby,” you can see his smile even through the dark. “i’m gonna turn us around, okay?” he warns and you just nod, letting him hug your waist to flip you two around so that he’s the one on top.
“it’s gonna be messy.” you giggle as he positions himself on his knees to pull out.
“it’s okay, i’ll change the sheets now.” jungkook shrugs and starts to pull out, making you hiss a little in discomfort but sigh when you instantly feel his cum spilling out of you and straight onto the sheets.
you can’t help but giggle again when jungkook sits back and looks down, like he’s admiring the view.
“like what you see... daddy?” you tease as you slide your hand down your body until you get to your pussy and slip two fingers inside.
“you don’t know what you’re doing to me.” he rubs his hands up and down your thighs as he keeps his eyes down where you’re gathering some of his cum with your fingers. a low groan leaves his mouth when you bring your messy fingers to your mouth and suck on them, tasting him on them.
“missed your taste.”
“you better stop that shit before i get hard again,” he warns you and you break in laughter. “wanna have a quick shower?” he asks.
“yeah, i’m a little sweaty and i feel gross.” you nod as you sit up. he nods.
“mh, i’ll change the sheets while you shower, okay? i’ll join you in a minute.”
“okay.” you smile and lean closer to him to steal another sweet kiss before getting up from the bed and making your way to the bathroom, turning the lights on first.
“baby.”
you turn around at that and jungkook looks up and down your naked body before saying, “i really missed you.”
you smile. “i missed you too.”
-
A/N: i hope you liked this story !!!!! please feel free to comment or send me an ask telling me what you thought of it, feedback helps a lot ! see you in the next one :) 🫂💐
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bee-wg · 1 month
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Year 2:
“Jay! What the Flip?” It’s the ass crack of dawn, and Theo is already trying his best SpongeBob impression.
“Whaaat?” I yelled back with a mouth full of pancakes.
“You put your dirty clothes on my bed again!” He squealed.
”Dude, you asked for it. What are you whining about?”
“Boys, What did I say about yelling in the morning?” She yelled.
“Yewn, bwintow!” I think Dad was telling us to break it off, but he’s too lost in the Cream Cheese Danish.
Can’t blame him. Delicious and high protein? There’s nothing better.
Theo rushed down with a constipated face. 
“Ewww. They’re still wet to the touch. Wait. Is it dripping sweat?”
Okay. I overlooked the wet part, but he asked me to have it. 
I’ve been cleaning out some gym clothes that don't fit anymore, and Theo wanted some. I’ve decided to fully commit on football and my stocky phase, so I gave that shirt one last try yesterday. It was definitely not made for a more rugged build person. As I walked around the house, I unknowingly soaked it. I used to be disgusted with sweating. I would shower and wash the clothes by hand after each morning run. Recently I’ve been sweating a lot easier, but Dad told me to look at the bright side of things, and I do see it. Usually I would only sweat when I get a real good workout. Since it's easier to sweat buckets, that means I’m getting lots of exercise.
That leads back to this. I don’t feel as compelled to wash them anymore. They’re the result of my hard work on the journey back to being shredded. 
“No more pancakes in the morning for the month.” He said.
“What?…But…You can’t do that.” 
His face tells me, “Yes, loser. I can.”
***
“What happened, dude? Your cat died?” Brad asked.
This is supposed to be an easy practice because it’s the last before the summer. I guess Coach woke up and chose violence. 
I’ve been only doing a few yards of Quick Steps and Sumo squats. My lungs are now collapsing.
I’m only 230 pounds; there are players heavier than me doing better. I’m doing something wrong. It must be because I didn’t have protein pancakes for days.
“Dude, you there?” Brad asked.
Trying not to wheeze, I replied.
“Yeah, S’all good. I’m just hungry.” 
It would be an understatement. When you’re used to protein goods pumping your belly full of energy every morning, what does five English muffins and some hash browns even do?”
“Hahaha, classic Jay. You’re the man.” Brad answers with a slap on my back.
“Gosh, you’re getting sweatier than Aiden.” He said in disbelief.
“Oh, by the way. Aiden’s going to Costco to buy a speaker for our dorm. You mind giving him a lift?” Brad asked.
“Bad timing man, my dad broke the old Toyota. It’s taking a long time to repair.”
“No problem. I’ll see you next semester then. Take care!” Brad waved as he sprinted out of the field.
***
I felt like I could eat a horse when the bus arrived. I passed through the usual stops, and finally.
The warm smell of chicken nuggets invites me.
I pull out my phone and check. Ten consecutive days. I can definitely redeem a free meal today.
“Welcome, what can I get you?” The cashier asked.
“Can I have the Double Western Deluxe Combo?” “ I have the loyalty discount.”
“Thank you, here’s your number.”
After what felt like forever, they finally called my number. 
It’s a pretty big meal, but today’s situation calls for it. 
I’ve been doing pretty well sticking to a fries-only diet when I’m here. With some occasional burgers and soda thrown in, I’ve accumulated a few thousand points to have meals like this once in a while. The only downside is the bus here takes way too long. I guess it’s better than the neighbours knowing I’m a regular customer. 
As I finished the fries, I saw a guy wandering outside with my university’s gym bag.
Wait, is he from the team? 
Wait, is that Aiden?
No. Shit, Is Aiden waving to me?
He’s probably waving to someone else.
Then the door’s jingle chimes.
“Yo, I didn’t expect to see you here!” Aiden said.
My alone time is ruined.
“Yeah man, me too. What brought you here?” I asked.
“Just bought the speaker and couldn’t find any restaurants here. I thought Costco had a food court.” He looked down at my plate.
“Whatchu havin’? Oh Damnnn, that’s a chunky burger!” He said in excitement.
“Haven’t had them in years, my mom hates that shit.” 
I just wish to crawl into a hole at this point.
“Yeah, my mom hates them to-” 
“I should have one too.” Aiden interrupted.
”What?”
Then he came back with a smaller combo with a box of salad.
“Oh man, I’ve been wanting to have a taste for so long,” Aiden said with glittering eyes.
He got a few bites of the burger and fries, then moved on to the salad.
“So what are you doing this summer?” I asked.
“Oh, not much. Probably hang out with the guys. My dad wants me to go to a training camp though. It’s not like I will play football after college anyway, so what’s the point?”
Then we talk about dorm drama and who the coach is going to recommend to the NFL scouts.
He is actually quite chill to talk to. 
“You don’t like it?” I point down to his unfinished burger.
“No, it’s the best thing I’ve had in years. Definitely beating celery or carrots. I just have a diet going on, and I kinda impulse bought this.”
“I could finish it for you.” I offered.
“Really? Thank you so much dude!” He said.
“You’re actually pretty fun to hang out with. I always thought you had a stick up your ass.” He added unhelpfully.
By the time the last of his burger and fries disappeared in my stomach, I was ready to sleep it off when I got home. 
My phone rang, waking me up from sleep. It’s 2 AM.
Probably Number Seven. He always calls at an odd hour. 
I picked up the call.
“Duuuuuuude, I didn’t know you go to fast foods. I thought we don’t keep anything from each other.” Instead of number seven, Brad said.
“Jay, knock it off,” Theo grumbled on the other side of the room.
“Keep it down, Brad. What is it?” 
I knew shit would get out of the bag sooner or later. At least I had two weeks of peace.
“Next time let me join too!” Brad said.
What the hell is up with these people? 
“Fine, whatever. Let me go to sleep.”
“Thanks a lot, man. I’ve never had fast food before!”
I have the feeling that this is going to bite me in the ass later.
Brad is calling me. Again.
“Dude, what?” I asked calmly.
“Woah, no need to get so worked up.”
“I asked some of my mates, they all agreed to meet up at the mall’s parking lot,” Brad said.
What is going on? It’s only been five hours since he last called me.
“Don’t forget to bring your laptop and an empty stomach! It’s gonna be an epic summer.” Then he hung up on me.
I should be used to Brad’s bullshit by now. He’s been like this since high school.
The bus on the way there is as tedious as usual. 
Why did he tell me to go with an empty stomach? Didn’t he know that I get really grumpy without any breakfast? It’s worse now without pancakes.
He looks at me eagerly, like a dog finding its treat.
“What is it, man?” I asked as he led me to the back of the restaurant.
Then, no Harry Potter bullshit, he opened the wall.
“What the hell? There was a room back here all this time?”
“Wait, Brad. You rented a party room?”
“It’s sick, right? I thought we could chill here for the summer, and go to the river nearby when we’re bored. Oh, I also brought the guys here. And a projector!”
“How did you afford this? I didn’t know you were rich.” I look at the big ass room with my friends in there already playing video games. Even Aiden the snitch is here.
“Oh, I have a pretty successful OnlyFans account. I thought I could spend it on you guys.”
“…”
“…”
“Good for you, man. Gotta hustle in this economy.”
He ordered a party combo with a bunch of salad. Then we started playing video games. It wasn’t until I was on a losing streak playing Yoshi on Mario Kart, I realized. They were staring at me expectantly.
“What?” I asked.
“So…Can you help us finish?” Aiden said.
Oh no. Not again. I turned to look at Brad.
He responded with a toothy grin.
“Please Jay, you have, like, the biggest appetite out of all of us. Look at all this free food going to waste. I bet you’re still hungry.”
“There are five of you,” I said.
“Marcus can help,” Brad added.
“Wait, me?” Marcus said.
He’s the team’s linebacker. The only guy bigger than me.
“Fine. At least it’s free.” I said reluctantly.
The fact that all of the juicy meat is screaming for my attention might be clouding my judgment.
We continued playing games, watched some movies while I munch
It was pretty fun. I got to talk to the people I wouldn’t usually talk to.
For example, I didn’t know Braxton played piano or Oscar was a hardcore Pokémon card collector.
The rest of the summer continued and the guys would meet up about three times a week.
I should’ve said no the second time Brad asked. But how can I let the food go to waste when the guys need me?
Marcus doesn’t come often because he’s occupied with his boyfriend. So the guys developed a way for me to eat all of their share. I would drink a dubious amount of water to expand my stomach in the morning, giving me more space. 
It was incredibly stupid, but when the guys cheered me up while I devoured the last of the remains, I felt pretty proud of myself.
By the end of the summer, not wanting to waste the last of our freedom. Everyone has been scrambling for things to do.
That’s where Brad’s dad comes in. He organized a BBQ party by the beach and invited all the football Dads from high school who were still in their little group chat. Of course, we are invited too.
“Oh come on, Jay Jay. You have to go, or else I’m gonna be all alone.” Brad whined.
“No Brad. You’re gonna be with twenty people, you won’t be alone.” I replied.
“If you’re worried about not having any swim trunks that fit, you can borrow from my old man, or we could go shopping together.” Shit, he’s awfully insightful.
“Your dad is like, 500 pounds. I’m not that fat, dude.”
Then Theo asked me if he could join cause he had grown out of his swim shorts too. Whatever that means.
That’s how we ended up here with Brad showing me an ugly Hawaii print speedo with a blue Jay on it, and Theo laughing his ass off with him.
“No, I’m not going to wear that,” I said for the final time.
“You’re no fun, Jay,” Theo said.
“Right? This guy gets it.” Brad replied to him.
“So you’re the culprit who made Jay fat,” Brad asked.
”Dude, you don’t know the half of it. I basically sacrificed myself to advance his cooking career.” I added.
“I don’t know. I would think taking care of his laundry, dishes, and meals, just to have him burp in my face and snore at night makes up for it. If anything, I'm doing too much. I should stop doing the protein pancakes agai-“ 
”Theo! You’re literally the best chef in the world. I am honoured to be your Guinea pig for the rest of my life.” I said.
He smiled 
Yes! Crises subverted.
“Hahahahaha you two are so strange.” Brad, who is still listening, said.
The possibility of protein pancakes being taken away from me sends shivers down my spine. I try to refocus on Brad’s shenanigans.
He came out of the fitting room with a professional swimming Jammer.
Why did he even take his shirt off? Goddamn washboard abs.
“Don’t you think it’s too extra for the beach barbecue?” I asked.
“I think it fits him nicely,” Theo said.
“Theo, you get me,” Brad said, then winked at him.
Is he trying to rizz my cousin?
“It’s my turn!” Theo said, grabbing a few trunks he chose.
Then he came out, without a shirt too, wearing a bright orange swim shorts.
“I see you’re putting my gym membership to good use.” Goddamn washboard abs, where did that even come from? Now that I think of it, he’s been fitting my old gym clothes better.
“You look awesome, Theo. The orange fits you nicely.” Brad said.
“I guess it’s my turn,” I said without enthusiasm.
After struggling to pull it up my ass. I walked out with the ugly print forest green trunk that’s wedged between my inner thighs; with a shirt on, thank you very much.
“Woah, look at those hefty thighs,” Brad said.
I’m out of options, and there’s no way I’m walking into another swimwear store again. So we made our way to the counter.
The day for the beach finally arrives, and I can already feel the swim trunks digging into my ass.
What’s more annoying is that Mom and Dad are now angry at me.
I would be angry at myself too.
Now I’m in a car with no AC, listening to how I should make better life choices.
“Jay, I didn’t think you would sneak off for fast food without telling us.” Mom said.
She caught the extra burgers I sneaked in to munch on at night this morning.
“Jacob, don’t you remember what I told you about garbage food?” Dad asked.
He said my full name. He never says my full name.
“If you want fried chicken you could ask mom to make it. You know it’s healthier at home.” Dad said.
“Am I not making enough, Jay?” Mom asked.
“I’m sorry Mom, I know I shouldn’t go,” I said.
“Don’t worry about it, honey. We can get through this together. If you want more fried food, Theo and I will make lots of it at home.”
“I got you, Jay,” Theo said, patting my shoulder.
We finally got to the beachside. After finding a shade to park our car, Dad struggled a bit to get out of the car. It seems like the old Toyota is seeing its last days. We might need to upgrade the car soon.
I know Dad is probably not mad at me, but his disappointment was worse.
Hopefully he can forgive me after getting some barbecue in his stomach.
We started setting up the chairs with Brad’s dad as more of my high school friends and their dads started coming in. I haven’t seen most of them since we graduated.
Dad went to greet them and it looked like he fit right in.
He was the Dad everyone’s dad was jealous of but couldn’t help to like him.
I was pretty shocked when I heard Dad wanted to come because he always declined their barbecue invites. 
He was the fittest of the group, but it looks like he is one of the heavier guys here. Dad told me he’s almost 260 pounds now, so Theo and I will probably lose again this year.
I feel conflicted. I wanted to look like Dad before when he had chiselled abs, but I also want to look like him now when he has a much larger presence with the same amount of confidence. I can’t do either correctly.
“You daydreaming, bro?” Brad said.
“It’s nothing. Let’s get the boxes out,” I replied.
“Just so you know, you can tell me whatever you want, Alright?” He said.
“Thanks man, appreciate it.”
He’s too pure to know about my problem with how my abs or belly doesn’t look right.
We got the tablecloth pinned in place to withstand the wind, then set up some disposable tableware.
“Good job, son,” Dad said as he patted my back.
I smiled for the first time today.
Brad’s dad put us on watch duty for the grill while I fought not to drool on the food. 
I’ll get my share. Old people first.
“Jacob? You’re all grown up! You’re a big boy now, almost as big as me. I bet you made your father proud.” Mr. Lancaster said. 
“Mr. Lancaster, you’re here! I didn’t know you were coming.”
He used to take me to his house with Ms. Lancaster when my mom was busy, or when Dad was substituting for other teachers.
Avery and I used to-
Wait, Avery is here?
I looked around to scan everyone.
“Oh, my boy is having a problem with his car, so he is probably not coming.” Mr. Lancaster said.
“We have the same issue too; it’s been a mess. Say hello to Avery for me, eh?”
“Of course, good to see you, Jay.” He replied.
I sighed in relief. I don’t know what to say to Avery if he comes. I missed him, but I also ignored him a couple times when I spotted him at the fast food place.
We served for an hour and a half. I probably lost the 60weight pounds I’ve gained, and my stomach is definitely deflated now.
Note to self: If I ever need to lose weight again, just stare at tasty barbecues all day just to have none of it.
“Ahem. Woah cool! Look at that shiny thing over there. I’m going to go fetch it!” Brad said suddenly, then ran off.
“Wait, you still have your-“
He ditched me.
I tried to flip over both of our grills to no avail.
“You need help?”
“Ahhhhhh!”I yelped.
Ave laughs with his usual lopsided smile.
“I thought you were,” I said.
“Dead? No. I caught an Uber.” Avery said.
“Right. Long time no see.” I reached out my hand for a shake.
“Seriously, Jay? When did you start doing that shit?” Ave said.
Same old Avery then. I took my hand back and hid a grin.
He looked so different I didn’t know how to react. By the looks of it, he’s almost doubled my weight, maybe around 450s. 
“Haven’t seen you in a while. You look good.” He said.
“You looked good too.” Now that I see him closely, it suits him, makes him look sturdy. His ass is hanging out in the back like a bra though.
“What were you up to this past year?” I asked.
“Well you know, I screwed up the football scholarship. But it’s the best thing that could’ve happened to me.” He said.
“I was pretty depressed for a bit, so I decided to go on one of the self-searching trips to some countries and states...”
Then he told me about the kind people and assholes he met on the way, as we finally sat down with our share of Barbecues.
Ave said that he got to eat food he never imagined existed, learn about cultures that changed his perspective on things.
He said he has never felt freer of any emotional constraints than he is now. I couldn't stop my smile from forming. I’m really happy for him.
He has always been harsh on himself. When school didn’t work, he dedicated his all to sports. On his way there, I felt like I lost a friend.
We talked for hours about the airplane seats being a bitch and how he’s sorry for whoever sat next to him, or about how I am addicted to fast foods and pancakes. He’s probably the only one I know that can relate.
I was lost in the conversation, with Brad interrupting occasionally with strange looks of wiggling eyebrows or smug smiles. I really don’t know what he’s on.
It’s when Dad is folding up the seats, and Brad’s dad cleans up the grill. Ave asked me.
“Wanna do this again sometime? My dad’s coffee shop has a new brownie coming up that he’s really proud of.”
Yes, of course. I wanna learn more about you and be friends again.
“Sorry, men. School is going to be busy. I also need to focus on football more this year, or I will get too fat to play.” I said.
“No problem Jay. You know I’ll always be there for you.” Avery said.
I tried to one arm hug him and he fully embraced me. His body is so warm and unbelievably soft.
For a moment, I wished I was proud like him. But I’m not free like him
Gathering supplies Dad brought, I walked back to the car, forgetting to ask for his number.
The school year started without much fanfare. But the feeling of estrangement grew.
Hanging out with the team was fun, but playing the game just doesn’t bring me the same amount of rush and anticipation anymore, instead, I look forward to the meal after the game that brings me the rush. It’s not like I was playing the game much anyway; I’m a glorified Waterboy now. My job is to refuel the Gatorade or water, then squirt it into the guys’ mouths. After that, I just need to hand them the towel and sit back to finish my hot dog. 
I know the team appreciates me. I would keep doing it for them if not for Coach’s disappointing stares. He probably thought I would be a star player like Dad, but I ended up fatter than the linebacker. I would be disappointed too.
My decision was made following the buzzing call of our defeat.
Chapter 3 ->
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bigfootsboytoy · 1 year
Text
Steve ends up heartbroken, lonely and depressed after season 2. Nancy called him bullshit, even after he ditched all his old friends for her. Billy Hargrove took his spot at the top of the food chain. He can have it, Steve doesn't really want it anymore. But Steve does want to find some sort of connection. Someone to have in his life who isn't an 11 year old kid he barely knows. He tries to go on a date one night, take a nice-seeming girl to a party. He wants to find connection, to kill the loneliness that's been building for months, but just as he's feeling kind of good about things, his date ditches him.
So. He decides to drink his feelings. He gets majorly fucked up, and ends up laying on the ground in the backyard, contemplating how much life seems to hate him.
Only to literally get tripped over by Eddie Munson, who was at this party selling pot and is very confused as to why Steve Harrington is alone on the ground with a bottle of vodka clenched in one hand.
Eddie ends up chatting a little with Steve, nothing substantial, but enough to know that Steve is very very drunk, and also very very sad.
He asks if Steve wants to go back to the party, and Steve staunchly refuses. He doesn't want to be around a bunch of annoyingly happy people.
He asks if Steve needs a ride home, and Steve just kind of shrugs. His parents just left for another trip, so home is kind of depressing right now too. But he doesn't exactly have any other friends he can stay with so. Home it'll have to be.
Only Eddie can *tell* he doesn't really want to go home, though he has no idea why Steve wouldn't want to return to his veritable mansion after a shitty night. The reason doesn't matter much. He offers to let Steve crash at his place. Steve can take the couch, or hell he can stay in Eddie's room if he doesn't mind sharing, that way he wouldn't risk being woken up when Wayne comes home that morning.
And well, Steve agrees. Can't think of any reason not too. Munson has been nice so far, he's got a good easy-going energy that Steve likes. Why not stay the night.
By the time they get to Eddie's, Steve is *slightly* more sober. Not much, but he's slurring his words a little less, and he can walk with only a little help.
Eddie grabs them each a little plate of leftovers, because he has no idea if Steve's eaten at all. It's quiet while they eat, Eddie doesn't push Steve to talk, and Steve isn't sure what to say. Eventually Eddie sets the plates aside and give Steve an easy grin.
"So, do you want the couch, or are you crashing with me?"
Steve thinks about it for a while. He hasn't shared a bed with a guy-friend since he was a kid, and he's heard rumors about Eddie, whispers in the hall about the way he looks at other guys. But...Steve can't really bring himself to care. He's tired, and he really doesn't want to be alone.
"I don't mind sharing."
Eddie sets them both up in his room, letting Steve choose which side of the bed he wants, and they both settle in. There's a respectable distance between the two of them, and Eddie says a quick goodnight to Steve, figures they won't talk and just go right to bed.
Except Steve isn't sober, and he really isn't in a good headspace, so he can't stop himself from blurting things out into the quiet of the dark room.
"Are you really gay?"
Eddie stiffens next to him, he can feel it, he can hear the way that the other boys breath cuts off and he seems to stop breathing all-together.
"It's okay if you are, I'm not going to be an asshole about it, I'm trying not to be that guy anymore. I guess I was just curious."
It's quiet for another beat before Eddie seems to loosen just a little. He starts breathing again at least.
"Yeah I uh- I am. Gay. And if that's weird the couch is still open, I can-"
"It's not weird."
"Okay."
Steve let's himself mull over this confirmation, and then his mouth starts moving again, without his permission.
"Is it lonely? Cause I mean, it's got to be hard to date in Hawkins. People here are shitty. Unless you've got like, a secret boyfriend or something."
"No...no secret boyfriend. It does get a little lonely sometimes. I'm lucky though, I've got my uncle, and my friends are pretty great. That's enough most days."
"What do you do when it's not enough?"
"Hmmm?"
"When your uncle and friends aren't enough, what do you do? To try and...make it better?"
Eddie is quiet again for a long stretch before he shrugs.
"I try to focus on something else. I'll play my guitar or work on a new campaign, read a book. Something to take my mind off it."
"Oh."
Now Steve is the one who seems tense, his jaw is tight and he's got his arms wrapped around himself. His next words come out as a whisper, but Eddie manages to catch them.
"I don't know how to do any of that."
He sounds almost choked, and Eddie is caught off guard. He's never seen Steve Harrington as anything other than solid, as happy. He's the king, after all. He's supposed to be all smiles and great hair. Only...Eddie's noticed that he hasn't hung out with his old friends lately, that he's eaten alone at lunch too many times to be anything other than strange.
"Steve...are you lonely?"
Eddie expects a denial, for Steve to laugh it off and tell Eddie that he's perfectly fine and fulfilled. Or maybe he expects a shrug, a non-answer. What he doesn't expect is the gut-wrenching sob that seems to tear past the other boys lips.
He doesn't expect to turn and see Steve Harrington's face, a scant foot from his, shining with tears.
He panics a little at the sight.
"Fuck- I'm so sorry-"
"Don't be." Steve tries to wipe his eyes, to hide the tremble in his voice. "Not your fault there's something wrong with me."
"What do you mean?"
"It's like I'm broken man, like nobody can stand to be around me. Tommy and Carol hate me now, Nancy- hell even my own parents hate being at home with me for more than a week. It's like I'm repellent or something. Couldn't even get a date to stick around for a whole night."
And Eddie's pretty sure *he* might start crying now. He'd never have expected this much from Steve, all that sadness to come pouring out. It wouldn't have happened if Steve was completely sober. Without thinking, he reaches out.
Eddie puts a hand on Steve's shoulder and waits to see if the touch gets rejected, but Steve seems to lean into him, so he lets his hand linger.
"This probably won't help, but I don't think you're repellent. And that's coming from somebody who your whole group used to torture. I don't know much about you, but I kind of liked having you around tonight."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Steve gives him a tiny smile. His eyes are still wet with tears, and the smile doesn't come close to reaching them. He seems impossibly small here in Eddie's bed.
"I don't know man. I just wish-"
He cuts himself off, apparently deciding his words are too far, but Eddie urges him to keep talking.
"What do you wish Steve?"
"I just wish that... there was somebody out there I could have a future with. Somebody who actually loved me, you know?"
It might be the saddest thing Eddie's ever heard, and he blames that fact for what he does next.
He takes his hand off Steve's shoulders and instead hauls Steve closer to him, fitting the other boy against his chest and wrapping his arms around him. It's a move that might get him decked, but he doesn't think it will. And he'll be damned if he doesn't hug Steve right that second.
He doesn't get hit. Steve tenses for a second, but it's just that one instant before he's melting into the embrace.
Eddie feels more tears falling against his shirt, and he couldn't care less. He keeps Steve close, let's him cry into his chest, runs a hand through that famous mop of hair.
He isn't sure how long it takes for Steve to calm down, but eventually he does. His breathing evens out, and he shivers a little before speaking.
"Thanks man."
And Eddie takes another leap of faith.
"I could be that person, you know."
"What?"
"I mean. You know Im... not straight. It may not be exactly what you're wanting but. I think I could picture a future with you. If you want to, just for tonight...I could be that someone who loves you."
Steve looks at Eddie, like he's a puzzle that he needs to solve, before a other shiver seems to wrack his body.
"Just for tonight?"
It comes out as a whisper, but Eddie hears it all the same.
"Yeah. For tonight Steve."
"I think...I think I'd like that."
Eddie gives him the sweetest smile he can muster, and nods.
"Alright sweetheart."
Eddie isn't exactly sure what it means, to love Steve for the night. After all, Steve is straight. He figures it doesn't matter much though, it's only for a night.
He keeps a hold on Steve, let's him get comfortable tucked against Eddie, and he does what feels natural. He runs a hand up and down Steve's spine, traces shapes into the soft fabric of his shirt. He tangles their legs together, and in a moment of insane bravery he presses a kiss to the top of Steve's head.
He's met with a sigh, full of relief, and figures he's on the right track.
"Just close your eyes Stevie, I've got you."
"Can you tell me about it?"
"Hmmm?"
"The future. You said you could see one. Can you tell me?"
And he asks so carefully, he sounds almost afraid, Eddie can't say no to that.
"Do you want the fantasy future, or the realistic future?"
"The real one."
"Alright then. Well, if I'm not going to be a rich and famous rockstar...I'll probably graduate and get a job somewhere in town. A real job, maybe working on cars or something. I'm good with cars. You'd come over all the time, have dinners with me and with Wayne. You'd have to meet Wayne. And we'd have more nights like this, sleeping close."
Steve let's out a pleased sounding hum, and shifts his face so it's buried even closer in Eddie's neck. He can feel Steve's breath on him.
"We could save up money and get a little place together, somewhere outside Hawkins. I have to stay kind of close, for my uncle, but maybe Indy?"
Steve nods, mutters something about staying close 'just in case'. He sounds like he might fall asleep, so Eddie keeps going.
"We could get an apartment, nothing too fancy. We would get two rooms, so nobody gets suspicious, but we would share a bed most nights. I'd play with my band on weekends, just for fun, and you'd join some little local sports team. I'd make sure to schedule DND nights so that I never miss a single game, even though I don't understand a damn thing about sports. We would come home for holidays, but most of the time it would just be us. I'd take good care of you, make sure you never go more than a few hours without me telling you I love you. I'll show up wherever you're working just to give you a hug and a kiss, and make sure you don't forget it. And I'll annoy the hell out of, but you won't mind too much, because I'll make you happy too."
Eddie can think of more. He can think about so many things. How he could give Steve one of his rings, even if they couldn't legally get married, even if Steve would never want that. Just as another reminder that he's loved. They could take trips together and go out to parties where Steve will never have to worry about getting ditched. Eddie doesn't do things halfway, and he has a hell of an imagination. He could picture them growing old together, if he tried, if he let himself. But this is just for tonight, so he doesn't. Instead he runs a hand through Steve's hair again, and listens to his quiet breathing. He thinks he may have fallen asleep, but he's wrong.
"That sounds nice."
It comes out muffled, spoken into Eddie's neck, but he manages to make it out, and he let's the vibration of it sink into his skin.
*It's only for tonight.*
He has to remind himself, because Steve is just feeling lonely. He doesn't want that future with Eddie, he just wants to feel loved.
But even if it's just pretend, just to help Steve for a few hours, he's okay with that.
Steve may think he's broken, but Eddie thinks he would be easy to love for a long time. Loving him for one night is nothing. He doesn't even have to try.
Tomorrow Steve will wake up sober, and he'll thank Eddie for letting him stay over, and they won't talk about it. Eddie will drive Steve back to his car in silence, and they'll say their goodbyes. They may not talk ever again, they never had before.
But for tonight? Eddie Munson will love Steve Harrington, and Steve? He'll let himself be loved, let himself beleive it. And he'll love Eddie right back.
Just for one night.
And if Steve ever needs it again? Eddie will love him for another night. And Steve will give that love right back. He's got plenty to spare, after all. And there's far worse people he could share it with.
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