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#Literally been on my mind the entire time I was sick in bed
awakenedmaiden · 2 years
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@afterlifetango from here
Satori's third eye twitched as Parsee's thoughts drifted to Koishi. To think someone could be envious of Koishi of all people. Then again, given envy was a core part of Parsee's identity, she supposed if anyone could feel that towards an identitiless girl it would be her.
She did not feel regret. It was a true rarity that Satori ever regretted an action. Her own position as leader of the Underground did not permit her the blessing of regret. Only the duty to keep pressing forward through every mistake and failure. It often felt as if she came to regret anything, to truly recognize fault, to crack the image of a calculated ruler, the entirety of the underground would crumble beneath her feet. Like Ubar to the sand.
Yet, even without regret, she still found herself questioning if this had been a bad idea. As much as she wanted to give Parsee a show of her devotion it was an obviously bad idea. One that would only make trouble for everybody. She had to have recognized that, she knew that she must have known that. So why did she do it? Her heart and mind did not see fit to bless her with an answer.
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"You ... have a point. I suppose that your bridge is not the sort that this tradition is made for."
At some point during her failed attempts at introspection, Satori had stepped forward. Approaching Parsee one step at a time. Until she was close enough to gently take her hands in her own and return the lock to her grasp.
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"You're ... right. Your shrine would be the safer place for this. As for your question."
A moment of awkward silence hung in the air before the answer came.
"Love and affection have never cared for wisdom. I don't care what you are, I don't care if it would be wise to leave if there. The only thing I care about is your comfort. Would it make you uncomfortable for me to place this there?"
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rosicheeks · 2 years
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🙃
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myname-isnia · 7 months
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*wakes up*
*grabs phone*
*email notification*
*new comment on SotRL*
*throws phone to the far side of adjacent couch*
*goes back to sleep*
#NOT TODAY THANK YOU#not ever. preferably#I was not emotionally prepared for this#look... I think I might be the direct opposite of literally every writer on the planet#because seeing that email made me feel sick to my stomach#this has singlehandedly sent my entire day off kilter#I'm supposed to go to my grandma's today but now all I want to do is rot in bed for the rest of the day#literally anyone else would have been happy to receive a several sentences long comment praising them#but my initial reactions were 'how the fuck did you find this?' 'why the fuck would you read it?' and 'I should've deleted when I wanted to'#I've heard countless stories about sudden comments received years after the last update kicking authors into continuing the story#usually in PSAs to always comment or whatever#but I just feel awful#not because I feel guilty over not finishing SotRL or anything like that#just.. because this is exactly the reason why I wanted to delete that fic#people reading anything I've written makes me want to die but SotRL especially#it's old. the writing is bad. there's a reason I call it my greatest failure#I don't want people to read it. that's why I wanted it gone#and the comment was so nice too. much more than just a call for an update#I hate that it caused this reaction in me because it's clear the person only had the best intentions in mind#but I can't control my emotions. far from the first time I wish that I could#someone put me in the guiness world record book as the first person to ever get genuinely upset over a nice comment#I laugh shit like this off as the mortifying ordeal of being known or whatever but in reality it's so much worse#if I didn't have anything to stop me my entire ao3 account would be gone. I hate the thought of people reading my work#just further proof that I'm not a writer. that I spent six years deluding myself into believing that I was#trying to shove square pieces into triangular holes like a dumb toddler#I should have quit before any of this happened. erased everything and forgotten about it like a bad dream#I should have never started writing in the first place#if I had the chance to go back in time and tell one thing to my 11 year old self it would be to not even think about writing#it has brought me nothing but pain and suffering and I really should have stayed away from it#too late now. I've been irreversibly ruined
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loafgeto · 10 months
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PLEASE TAKE CARE OF ME
gojo satoru x fem!reader
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synopsis: your boyfriend is sick, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t horny.
contents: fem!reader, explicit language, clingy/needy satoru, suguru’s entrance at the end, NSFW, dirty talk, dry humping(??), cockwarming, unprotected sex, creampie, orgasm, squirting, markings, not proofread
word count: 2.8k
notes: not me being sick at the same time😭😭
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“102.3… gosh, satoru, how did you even get this fever? you were fine yesterday,” you utter speechlessly, observing the number on the thermometer before glancing down at your boyfriend, who’s panting softly while keeping an arm over his eyes. satoru groans, unable to answer since he didn’t even know how he got it himself.
“i-i don’t know..” satoru’s head was aching, and he was burning all over. you draped him in a hoodie and sweats, while the comforter covered his entire lower body. “it’s too hot..” he groans, pushing the collar of the hoodie down to feel some cool air brush against the skin of his neck. satoru indicated that he wants the garment off, but you remove his hand away and sigh.
“you need a lot of rest,” you remind, reaching for the towel damped with tepid water and placing it on his forehead. “there’s several water bottles next to you if you need it, remember you need to stay hydrated. i’ll be making some porridge for you. if you need anything, just holler for me.”
“babyyy, stay here- i don’t need all that,” satoru firmly grasps his hand around your wrist, refraining you from walking away. he was pouting, glassy eyes staring up at you like he’d break any moment. “yes, you do. don’t give me that look,” you furrow your brows as you gently push your arm away.
“won’t you at least give me a kiss?” satoru blurts before you could turn around. you shake your head, patting his face before grinning. “hmm, maybe. but after you eat, i’ll consider it,” you reply, hoping it’d be assuring for him to stay put in his bed.
“fine,” he obliges, sinking back into the mattress and keeping himself warm even when his body was literally trembling and burning. you’d give him a kiss but you wouldn’t want the fever spreading onto you. since tomorrow, there was an important meeting you needed to attend, and getting sick was the last thing on your mind. “good boy,” you decide tease him before quickly slipping away.
“h-hey!” satoru’s body shoots up, eyes following your figure quickly heading towards the door. you stick your tongue out at him, making him realize you were just messing with him so that you could leave. oh gosh, the way you were dressed and how he hadn’t touched you in days was starting to bother him, very intently.
you enter his kitchen, humming a short tune while retrieving the ingredients to make a simple and warm porridge to help with his fever. satoru was barely home, so there never any food stored in his cabinet or fridge. well, that’s the strongest jujutsu sorcerer for you. what’s even more surprising is how he can get sick with a fever like this. strong my ass, you snicker. but all jokes aside, satoru is still a human being after all.
satoru normally his spent time at your place anyway, which is why his home is limited in several things. he had much bigger, luscious, and appealing house than yours, so why wouldn’t he want to be in here all of the time? you even thought about asking to live with him, since you two have been together for three years and it didn’t sound like a bad idea. and you were certain it’d be better since you could easily take care of him like this.
you can hear satoru cough from his room as you bring a pot to the stove. “satoru! do you want some tea and cough medicine?!” you holler to him, waiting for a response to which you didn’t receive. you shrug, deciding to brew tea for him anyway. this wasn’t your first time taking care of satoru while he’s sick— it was just so uncommon that you figured you’d never see the state again. but thankfully you’re still prepared with medicines and other medical supplies for these situations.
after you finished gathering all of the ingredients together, you decide to prepare congee porridge, since it’s simple and refreshing, especially for when you have an illness. with a smile on your face, you began following the directions of cooking the congee just like you remembered.
as you were beginning to cook the congee in the pot, you didn’t even realize the tall figure approaching behind of you. therefore, you couldn’t react in time before satoru wraps his arms around your lower body and pushes himself against your back. his mouth lowers near your neck and ear, making you feel the gentle breeze of his soft breath.
“s-satoru?!” you squeak, almost dropping the spoon you were using to stir the congee. you turn your head slightly, feeling the heat of his body absorbing into your skin, but he seems to be relaxing slightly. “what are you doing? you need to be in bed, now.”
“don’t wanna..” satoru replies in a low voice as his lips gently grazes against your shoulder. his needy touch nearly sends shivers down your spine, but you two couldn’t be doing this, not when he’s sick. “fuck, baby.. i need you.. s’bad.. don’t care if i’m sick.. please..” he whines, pressing himself closer to you.
“‘toru- wait, stop!” you gasp, pushing yourself back so that you wouldn’t counter the hot surface of the stove. you give satoru a firm glare, but he’s too distracted with his own arousal to even notice. “how are.. why are you-? satoru, please, we can’t. you need to go back to bed right now,” you add, sighing in between while trying to nudge him away.
“n-no.. can’t,” satoru groans, pressing his face into your neck. he was panting gently again, trying to inhale your scent and feel up against your soft skin. “‘ve been so needy for you..” he whispers and you can feel his erection poking your ass as he starts grinding his hips slowly.
“sa-satoru, wait-“ you bite your lips, trying to resist yourself. you need to remember that he’s sick, and that he needed all the rest and care he could get in order to feel better. but his clinginess and neediness, his little whines and pants desperately calling and seeking for your touch wasn’t helping at all. satoru could almost feel your hips pushing back against his, making a faint smirk appear on his lips.
“don’t you see that? your body’s already moving for ya, you want it too, don’t you?” satoru whispers, pressing gentle kisses behind your ear and down your neck. “satoru-“ a quiet moan leaves your lip, as you feel one of his hands trail towards your inner thighs.
you do, of course you want it, but you both can’t do it.
“can i put it in, baby? please? i won’t move at all, i promise. just wanna feel your warm pussy around me, please,” satoru begs, the material of his sweats already outlining the size and shape of his aching cock. “n-no.. satoru.. you can do everything else but just don’t put it in,” you reply, glancing at him and he just nods. you couldn’t believe you said yes instead of forcing him back to bed, but you couldn’t resist his short seduction.
satoru bends you over slightly, lifting the skirt of the dress you were wearing and starts grinding his hips slowly against your ass, pressing his bulge into the soaked spot of your panties. you held back your moans, returning your attention to the congee that was barely even cooking. it was hard to make sure the porridge was being cooked properly because of satoru’s movements and the sounds he was making.
“f-fuck.. i can feel how wet you are- ngh- i c-could cum any second,” satoru moans, pushing his head back slightly as his hands grip around the sides of your ass. he starts grinding his hips faster, rubbing his clothed cock against the wet material covering your cunt. he desperately wanted you to cockwarm him, even if his body was already too warm enough to handle. he just couldn’t resist anymore, but he’s got to now that he notices you cooking.
“‘t-toru, please- slow down,” you request, unable to hold your moans as he nudges and roughly grinds himself against your pussy. it felt so damn good, making you aroused as much as he is. “ssshit,” satoru moans, moving his hips faster after you told him to reduce his speed. just how can he slow down when you two are already like this?
“fuck baby- i can’t.. please just let me put it in. please,” satoru begs again, his cock grinding far into you that it was almost pushing through the fabric of your clothes and into your pussy. “please, baby? please take care of me down here too,” he whimpers, pleading in desperation as his fingers start gently tugging the material of your panties.
“okay- fine. you can put it in..” you nod, giving him a short glance and satoru’s face lights up. now, there was no turning back for you. would you regret this later? probably, but at the moment, you didn’t possibly care for the outcomes. “but no moving..”
satoru removes his hoodie before pushing his sweats and tight boxers down, freeing his hard cock that slaps against his lower abs. you bite down on your lower lips, gazing at the sight of your boyfriend’s fat dick about to be stuffed into you. satoru gives his cock several short and slow pumps, spreading his leaked pre-cum against the skin of your ass cheeks before moving your panties to the side and lining himself at your entrance.
he holds the sides of your hips again, groaning and pushing his cock past your folds and deep into your wet cunt. you breathe a short gasp, moaning instantly while your walls clench tightly around his girth. satoru nearly cums because of the sensation and warmth of your hole, and almost starts thrusting— but he remembers that he was just going to put it in, and nothing else.
“i-i still have to cook.. your porridge, satoru-“ you manage to slip out, feeling your gummy walls pulsate around his cock. satoru grunts, grip tightening around your hips as he nods his head. “i know.. but fuck- just keep letting me feel your warm pussy like this,” satoru replies, pushing the rest of his length into you.
your focus on the congee was short when you shift your hips back slightly, feeling satoru’s dick twitch inside as your ass knocks against his pelvic area. it was overbearing to be unable to rock back against him and feel his cock kiss your deepest parts— you’d be opposing your own words. you lower the heat of the stove, almost completely turning it off as you realize you’re probably not going to finish the porridge anytime soon.
“t-thought you said no moving?” satoru huffs, pouting before slightly pushing out and back in. you moan, shaking your head. “i did…” you reply, turning your head around and meeting his gaze. his blue eyes were glistening, full of lust that he was withholding. however, seeing your face was enough for satoru to start thrusting very slowly.
satoru’s sensual grazes against your walls was causing louder moans to stumble from your mouth. you grip around him, sucking in his cock as you can feel him penetrate your deepest parts with his steady motions. you had to turn off the stove completely before satoru pushes you against the kitchen counter, fastening his thrusts.
“n-ngh, satoru- wait-“ you mewl, gripping the edge of the counter as you glance back at his flushed face. but he didn’t even allow you to continue speaking as he hoists one of your thighs, hand tightening the fat and plunging his cock deeper into your cunt. “fuckfuck- you need to slow down-“ you choke out, quite appalled at how satoru even had this much energy in him to fuck you like this. it didn’t matter though, since you’re clearly enjoying it.
“shit baby, i-i wanna fuck your pussy forever. you feel- so damn good,” satoru chants, hips banging into your ass as his pants start becoming heavier. he forgot that he was even sick himself, his neediness for you was overwhelming to the point he thought about nothing except drilling his cock into you like this. “o-oh god, ‘toru- pleasepleaseplease~” you cry out, head falling forward as he ravages your swollen cunt.
“fuck- please forgive me, baby. i can’t hold myself back anymore,” satoru says before lowering his body over yours, arms entirely laced around your waist and lips meeting the skin of your shoulder blades as he’s now pounding into you. you’re both moaning messes, grinding your bodies and feeling each other’s warmth. you can feel satoru’s cock rubbing your g-spot and his heavy balls smack your folds as your arousal starts trickling down your inner thighs.
“sa-satoru~ i’m g’nna cum-“ you whine, pushing your ass back as he’s still thrusting, erratically and sloppy but rough that it’s causing you to reach your orgasm. satoru presses soft kisses on certain areas of your shoulder, bringing one hand down to stroke circles against your clit. the touch was nearly making your eyes roll back, and the contractions of your pussy tighter around him.
“ngh- yes baby, cum on this cock that’s s’needy for you,” satoru whimpers, using his tongue to lick the lobe of your ear. his body was becoming exhausted, but he’s greedy and desires to fill your womb with his thick and warm load. satoru craves the feel of your delicate skin and inner parts of your pussy that’s squeezing him dry, stimulating him to pound you faster.
you squint, the sockets of your eyes welling with hot tears that stream down your face each time you blinked. your fingertips jab into the hard surface of the kitchen counter and your legs become wobbly that it’s nearly difficult to maintain standing. satoru’s mouth kisses and licks each area of your skin that he could find, before gently biting down and nibbling the flesh. it’d probably leave red marks later, but your mind doesn’t necessarily think of the idea as you’re occupied with satoru’s cock still abusing your hole.
after satoru’s each passing hard thrusts, you cum all over him— sensations of pleasure pumping throughout your entire body from your orgasm. your ejaculation squirts on satoru’s thighs and drips to the ground, making your body tremble. satoru cums next, dipping several deep strokes into your cunt and groaning your name as his warm semen milks your womb full.
you both stand there for a long moment, breathing heavily while your bodies are still pressed close together. satoru keeps his cock in you, making sure that none of his cum drips out of you and kisses your neck in a soft manner. “thanks baby.. i feel better now,” he whispers by your ear, his tone enunciating his exhaustion.
“hey- don’t fall asleep on me now! we have to clean up,” you give him a slight glare as his head raises up. satoru pouts, before nodding and stepping back. he slips his cock out, immediately feeling odd with not having you clench around him.
satoru thought of something that nearly sent blood rushing to his dick and he gives you that one stare as you push your dress back over your ass. “can you suck me off?” satoru requests, eyes sparkling with the anticipation of you saying yes.
“no.”
“then what about my kiss?”
“no, satoru. you didn’t even eat the congee,” you reply firmly, feeling yourself quiver as his cum tries to drip out of you. but maybe your next words could encourage something, or not since you two needed to clean up. “go to the bathroom, i’ll meet you there and maybe i’ll give you a kiss.”
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“a-achoo!”
suguru gives you a glance, brows raised as he lifts the folder in his hands between you and him like he’s trying to not catch whatever you have. “bless you. gosh, are you sure you’re okay? you’ve been sneezing so much and it’s only 10 in the morning,” he states.
“i’m fine, suguru. just allergies,” you reply with a shrug, knowing damn well where you’re getting this ‘allergy’ from. of course, suguru was skeptical but nodded his head as you two proceed down the hall.
the meeting was less than 20 minutes, and as suguru was speaking with several of the first year students, you quickly dart to your office and search for a thermometer in your desk.
“101.3,” you read out quietly, blinking several times. but who were you to be surprised?
you: look, i’m sick
you sent the message to satoru, along with a photo attachment of the thermometer that read your body temperature. and not even a minute later, he reads it and replies.
satoru <3: well, guess we should go for another round today then ;)
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LOAFGETO. thank you for reading! please do not copy my work or publish in another media without my permission.
a/n: pls i want this cold to go away😭😭 if anyone’s sick rn, i hope you feel better quick <3 (likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! have a nice day)
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norrizzandpia · 10 months
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Can you please write exes to lovers angst with lando
Y’all know the way to my heart with these angst requests
A Second Chance (LN4)
Summary: Secrets are a hard thing to live with, they always come out in the end. When it comes to Y/n and Lando, their loved ones struggle to understand what occurred between the two when both of them refuse to discuss it. What happened that night that warranted two people so in love to separate? What triggered Lando to become so violent, so hostile? Why is there a lone engagement ring lingering in Lando’s apartment when it’s meant to rest on Y/n’s finger? What’s happened?
Warnings: lots of fights, language, literal screaming matches, lando breaking y/n’s heart while he’s drunk, this ones hella rough when it comes to angst, whata rollercoaster, HAPPY ENDING THO YALL JUST BUCKLE UP FOR THE RIDE AND TRUST ME
Note: i decided to really play with y’all here because you don’t end up knowing what caused them to breakup until the very end, so enjoy 6,000 words of subtle hints and you on the edge of your seat bc I’m evil 😚
Some things were better left unsaid. That’s the mantra Lando repeated to himself every time he felt the urge to pick up the phone and pour his heart out to the girl he let get away.
Some things are better left unsaid.
Some things are better left unsaid.
Some things are better left unsaid.
He was sick of the words, wanting to rip them out of his mind, out of his mouth every time he uttered their syllables. His thumb laid so close to her phone number, he was frightened one wrong move would make the decision for him.
All he saw, not just in that moment but every moment, was her face as he spewed off words of anger, violent insults that held no truth to them.
He wanted to apologize, yearned to hear her breathing as he said the things he had rehearsed in the mirror for God knows how long. There was blood on his hands, her blood, the blood of her being when he killed her spirit and the character he had fallen in love with. He couldn’t live with that.
Couldn’t live with the knowledge he had destroyed the beauty of her happiness, the beauty of who she had been.
Selfish, maybe, but he called her anyway. Whether the apology was for her or for him, he wasn’t sure, he just needed to know she knew that he never meant for those things to tumble from his mouth. He never meant to tear her down when he had spent the entirety of their relationship building her up.
The ringing sounded, it blaring loudly in the quiet of his room. He stared at her contact photo, he never changed it. The picture was one his friend had taken of her as she gazed upon him at the Silverstone Grand Prix, when he got his podium. She was smiling up, looking at him as if he held her entire life right in the palm of his hands.
She had loved him, put her heart in his hands, and he had thrown it back in her face like he was disgusted by it.
His mind was taken back to the moment when, after one ring, the call went straight to voicemail.
Fuck it, he thought, I’ve already called her once.
So, he tried again.
One ring, then voicemail.
Again.
One ring, then voicemail.
Again.
One ring, then voicemail.
By the end of his calling spree, he was sitting up in his bed, the sheets falling down his toned chest as he stared at the brightness emitting from his phone. His fingers flew over the keyboard as he searched up why he was only getting one ring.
The answer that popped up stopped the world around him. He threw his phone down to the side, it falling harshly onto the floor. He stormed from his bed, ripping open his door and throwing on a random hoodie strewn about his couch. His eyes glazed over as he tied his shoes and left the apartment, beginning to run. His running was in vain, however, as he was only trying to run from the thing that got him into this situation. Himself.
The phone stayed behind, lingering on the floor with its screen cracked yet still displaying what had set Lando off in the first place.
The Google search engine painfully informed him of Y/n blocking him.
“How have you been since the breakup?” Max said softly, looking at his best friend with gentle eyes.
Lando looked down to his lap, “I’m doing fine. Getting by.”
Max’s quietness lingered like he knew something.
“What is it?” Lando asked spitefully, sick of feeling like his loved ones were tip toeing around him.
Max sighed, “You’re not sleeping.”
“How do you know that?”
“Life360 shows me where you’ve gone in the last twenty-four hours, Lando. It also gives me notifications when you leave your house. At first, I wanted to stay out of it, but you’re doing it every night, going to random parks and staying there for hours. What are you doing?”
Lando smacked his hand on the table out of frustration, strangers sat close to them glancing over suspiciously, “So, you’re monitoring me now?”
Max scoffed, “Yeah! Your family and your friends are worried for you.”
“Well, don’t.” Lando gave him a pointed look.
Max shoved his face into his hands, “It’s not that fucking easy, Lando. Everyone thought you two were going to get married. You had a ring. Then, all of a sudden, you two ended. The people that love you are obviously going to be wondering about you when shit like that comes out of left field.”
“You don’t think I know that?” Lando began, face heating up, “You don’t think I look at the engagement ring everyday and wonder where I would be today? Maybe engaged to her like I had always wanted? You don’t think I know this shit? You don’t think I have to live with it, sleep with it, exist with it?”
It dawns on Max as he listens to Lando’s every word, “You’re going for walks in the night? To get away from thinking about it when you’re trying to sleep? Trying to distract yourself?”
Lando’s eyes look down once more, “Running. I’ve been running.”
In a rare form of physical affection, Max leans over and lays his hand over his friend’s, “What happened that night?”
Lando flinches, “I don’t want to talk about it.”
His hand is heavy on top of Lando’s as he tries again, “Lando, I’m sorry, but I just don’t understand. What the fuck happened? When are you going to be comfortable talking about it? It’s been five months.”
Something fiery triggers within Lando and Max knows it’s the reminder of how long he’s gone without her, “I know how fucking long it’s been.”
At the gridded teeth and hostile tone, Max relents. He sits back in his chair just when Lando’s gaze is caught behind him. His head turns to see what’s got Lando and he’s met with a woman that looks identical to Y/n.
He breathes out, turning back around to tilt his head at his best friend. Max opens his mouth to say something, but Lando interrupts him by the loud screech of his chair being pushed away from him.
He watches in horror and disappointment as Lando walks over to the woman and begins flirting with her. That smile, which was once reserved only for Y/n, is now exploited to get one singular taste of something like her, however fleeting.
In no time, Lando’s trading numbers with her and returning to the table. He sees the way Max looks at him, an expression that makes him hate himself more, and picks up his things, “If you’re not going to support me, sit across from me and patronize me for everything that’s happened, then I’m fucking out.”
Max laughs in disbelief, “Lando, I don’t know what the fuck happened! Maybe if I did, I could actually help you instead of this fucked up coping mechanism you’ve developed of sleeping with women that look like her.”
Lando snarls at him, stomping off and out of the establishment, texting the new number he’d gained immediately and asking when they were free to come to his apartment.
Max watches him through the window, anger at him dissipating and worry taking over once more for the boy he used to know.
The waitress comes by and drops the check off, three digits staring back at Max.
“I TOLD YOU NOT TO INVITE HER!” Lando screams at Charlotte, nostrils flaring as he shoots daggers into her soul.
“WHAT’S THE FUCKING PROBLEM? CAN’T FUCKING FACE YOU EX OF EIGHT MONTHS?!” Charlotte yells.
Lando counters, “YOU KNOW I FEEL ABOUT HER! HOW I FELT ABOUT HER! I DON’T FUCKING WANT HER IN THE CROWD OF THE NEW CAR LAUNCH!”
Charlotte rolls her eyes, “WELL, GET OVER IT! IT’S HAPPENING!”
“I’M THE DRIVER, I RUN THE SHOW! I SAY SHE GETS TAKEN OFF THE INVITE, SHE GETS TAKEN OFF THE INVITE!”
“SHE’S ALREADY BEEN INVITED, DUMBASS! WE CAN’T RETRACT THE INVITATION NOW. IT WOULD LOOK BAD.”
“I DON’T CARE! FUCK, CHARLOTTE, THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!” Spit flies from his mouth, his volume so loud it jostles the walls.
Charlotte, being the strong woman she was and fed up with Lando’s recent behavior, fires back, “IT’S NOT MY FAULT SHE’S ON THE AUTOMATIC INVITE LIST! YOU KNOW THIS! GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR ASS!”
He lets out a loud grunt, turning around in the room like it’s closing in on him. He’s so in his mind as it suffocates him with memories of her, he steps toward the wall and almost puts his fist through it. However, right before his hand comes in contact, he hesitates.
He can feel Charlotte’s horrified eyes on him as he turns around, chest heaving from the unreleased anger. He can’t fully meet her stare, knowing it’ll break him further.
However, that doesn’t matter as she puts her hands on her hips and whispers, “Who even are you anymore?”
She slams the door on her way out and Lando can hear her lash out at his father, detailing how he needs to get his son in check if Lando wants any kind of continued future in F1. They go back and forth for a moment, Adam standing up for his son in a time where there’s no defending able to be done. His father reminds Charlotte of the relationship she’s cultivated with Lando, reminding her of how she once referred to him as her son, and she’s ready with her heartbreaking answer: he’s not the same person she once knew.
That gives Adam no room to fight back, silence overtaking the atmosphere for a moment before he’s entering the room. Lando sits on one of the many office room chairs, head hanging low as he picks at his fingernails.
Adam sits in the one closest to him, breathing slowly as he tries to gather what he wants to say.
“Lando, what happened that night?” He repeats, reminding him of the countless conversations they’ve had that started with that question and ended with Lando refusing to talk about it.
His son shakes his head, something dying inside Adam once more, “I told you. I’m not talking about it.”
A moment passes before Adam snaps, “Lando! I know you’re hurting and I’m so sorry. But, Jesus fucking Christ! You can’t go on like this forever! This isn’t healthy! She’s not coming back! She’s stopped communicating because she doesn’t want to hear from you! You’re going to need to move on sometime!”
Lando stands abruptly from his seat, his father’s words hitting him hard, “You have no fucking right to say that! You don’t know what’s going through her mind!”
Adam stands to get in his face, “No, but I do know you two were happy, she was happy, and you were in love, and then it was over! People don’t fall out of a love like that if someone didn’t fuck up royally!”
Lando moves to the door, “I don’t want to hear this anymore.”
Adam grabs his arm before he can leave, staring at him with a stone cold gaze, “You keep pushing people away, treating people like shit, and you’ll ruin your career.”
“Who said I even cared about my career anymore?”
As much as he hates it, Lando’s eyes immediately search for her once he and Oscar are let into the room. The new car sits under a drape, a crowd of people standing around it, and, even with all the exciting things around him, he looks for the greatest heartbreak of his life.
He wants to see how she is, see if her eyes are as sunken as his are, if her body is as thin as his. Yet, he fails to see her. He knows she’s here, having seen her acceptance of the invitation on the guest list.
He’s being pulled to the front of the room by PR members, their pushes making him stumble into Oscar’s side as he keeps his gaze locked on the sea of people in front of him.
Time goes by slowly, the ceremony moving easily with applause when Oscar and him roll back the material covering the racing car.
They’re in the midst of an interview, microphones held tightly in their hands as they converse with the reporter.
He’s still distracted, his eyes still searching throughout the party to see her, but he’s called back when Oscar nudges his shoulder, “Sorry, what?”
The reporter smiles, “You’ve just gone through a break up and it seems she’s here. Does that say you two ended on good terms?”
He cries of laughter in his head. The idea that they ended on good terms is the funniest thing he’s heard in a while.
He puts on his fake smile, though, nodding strongly like this isn’t a question that has broken his soul, “Yeah! Y/n and I still talk from time to time. She supports me and I support her.”
He feels as if Oscar is staring at him, as if the entire room is staring at him, as he lies through his teeth. Y/n and him haven’t spoken in a year, her having cut off all contact from the very beginning.
The interview continues, nonetheless, with the journalist accepting his answer without question.
Once they’re done, Lando feels sick. Sick of trying to salvage his image, sick of having to appear at these functions, sick of wanting her back and knowing she’ll never let him in again. He excuses himself quickly, mumbling about needing to use the restroom, before dashing off down an empty hallway and locking himself in a stall.
He sits on the toilet, racing suit falling over the edge of the porcelain bowl as he lays his head in his hands.
He breathes heavily, lungs not taking in enough air, and he feels as if the first tears are about to fall when the door opens and the conversation of two men floods through.
“They broke up, you know?” One of the men states as they begin looking at themselves in the mirror, Lando watching them through the cracks of his stall.
The other one nods, seemingly excited, “Yeah, I’ve never been happier. She’s so hot, we finally have a chance.”
Lando’s eyebrows furrowed together. Who are they talking about?
“I know, mate. I saw her tonight. I think she’s still here. You saw that orange dress she’s in? Hot as fuck. It really does justice to that body of hers.”
Lando grimaces at their words.
However, they continue, revealing more about their topic of conversation this time, “Yeah, one hundred percent. Y/n Y/l/n has never looked better. I saw her walk in and I was ready to fuck her instantly.”
The color drains from Lando’s face when her name slips past their lips, their previous words having an entirely different impact on him now. He sees red at their vulgar words, pulling himself from the stall and walking out with a dangerous, cold air to him.
The two men stop quickly, looking at each other in the mirror when Lando sidles up in between them. Beginning to wash his hands, he makes eye contact with both of them.
“Having a nice conversation here, boys?”
The two of them gulp, clearly nervous at the man’s presence. They say nothing, rather letting Lando continue.
“You know, we may not be together anymore, but that doesn’t mean she’ll get with you two. She has standards and, after being with her for five years, I can tell you: you two aren’t it. Keep dreaming, though, yeah? That’s how I got to where I am now, making millions of dollars a year and such.”
He waltzes out, throwing out the paper towel he had grabbed in the middle of his words and nodding at them.
Suddenly, as he stands in the quiet hallway, his demeanor has shifted. He feels lighter. Consciously, he doesn’t know why, but, subconsciously, he knows it’s because he just asserted his dominance over her, his possession. Reminding the two men of how long he was with her, how long he had her, a duration of time they’ll never see, mended his pain for a minute or two.
It comes back quickly, though, when he turns the corner and runs into the infamous papaya colored dress that had laid on the floor of his bedroom many times before. He halts, so does she, and for a moment, the two of them keep their eyes trained on the other’s clothes, not wanting to look up and face something they aren’t ready to face.
Although, cruelly, that moment inevitably comes and Lando’s breath is taken from his lungs at how radiant she stands before him. His eyes trail over her face, the tape that was once holding his heart together now ripping apart at the sight of her. She seems strong, looking at him in a removed manner, as if she truly isn’t there with him at the moment.
His hand hovers over her bicep, fingers tingling as they plead with him to touch her.
“Hi, Lando.” His name falling from her lips, sounding soft and warm, reminds him of why he knew her coming to this, seeing her, would ruin whatever kind of progress he had developed in the year they’d been apart.
His mouth opens, then closes, and he struggles to get words out as his mind races with all the things he wishes to say. Knowing everything he’s tried to tell her is not meant to be said in a place as open as this, he settles for, “Hi, Y/n.”
She smiles at him, completely different from the fury in her features the last time he saw her, and mumbles out, “How have you been?”
He takes a leap, “Been better.”
She ignores it, “Listen, I need to go to the bathroom, but it was nice seeing you!”
Y/n tries to slip past him, but he’s quick to grab her arm. Looking in her eyes as if he’s trying to show her the happy memories that now are too painful to remember, he speaks lowly, “Hear me out.”
She shakes her head, “No, Lando. I’ve been done with us for a year.”
“Have you?” He challenges her, staring down at her and willing her to try again.
She rolls her eyes, looking anywhere but him, “Yes.”
“Look at me.”
When she fails to do so, he shakes her arm lightly.
“Look at me.”
And when she does, he tilts his head, leaning down to hover his lips over hers, “Tell me we’re done. Look at me and tell me you don’t love me anymore.”
“That’s not fair.” She whispers, lips brushing against his.
“Why?”
“Because of what you did.”
He looks on at her, their eyes holding the other’s as they relive the moments of that night. They both know there’s no way for him to counter, no way to fight back or fight for when she throws that in his face. What he did to her, what he said to her, has tarnished the trust she gave to him.
He pulls back, breathing in deep when she rips her arm from his grasp and flees further down the hall.
Watching her disappear behind the door of the restroom, Lando curses himself.
Curses the alcohol, curses that night, curses his words, curses the love they had, curses the memories that won’t leave him alone.
Curses the existence of their relationship entirely.
Lando’s never felt confusion of this level before. He stares down at Paige’s, Y/n’s best friend, contact as it calls Lando’s phone.
He hesitantly answers, putting it to his ear slowly, and whispering, “Hello?”
“Lando?” Paige sounds concerned.
Lando shakes his head, attempting to wake himself from the sleep he had just been having, “What’s going on?”
“Y/n is so fucking wasted and, I have no clue what happened between you, but she keeps asking for you. She won’t stop drinking, won’t leave the club, until you get here. I didn’t want to call you, partially because of how late it is and partially because of what’s going on between you two, but, if I’m honest, I’m glad I have an excuse. I’m worried about my best friend and it started when you two broke up.”
By the end of her words, Lando’s already out of his bed and halfway out the door. His keys jingle in his hand as he continues to converse with her, “I’m on my way to pick her up. I’ll be there soon. Just try and keep the drinks out of her hands.”
Before he can hang up, the engine of his car revving to life, Paige interjects, “Lando, one more thing. You’re going to have to let Y/n sleep at your place. She moved out of her apartment a few months ago and has been sleeping on my couch while she finds a new place. But, we have other friends here and I can’t just leave them to make sure she gets into my house.”
Lando nods, “That’s fine, but why’d she move out? She loved it there.”
Paige sighs, “Because she couldn’t stand the fact that everywhere she turned, all she saw was you.”
Lando pulls up to the club, its lights bright and music loud as he spots Y/n and Paige waiting on the curb. He gets out, rushing over to them and not loving the way Y/n seems to be hunched over in pain.
Paige pawns her off into Lando’s arms, Y/n melting into them and clinging to him when he holds her softly.
Paige begins to walk back toward the entrance of the club, “Thank you, Lando! You were always someone I could count on to take care of her. Have fun and please, for the love of God, fix whatever is wrong between you.”
At that, she disappears back into the colorful lights and Lando is left with his girl.
She’s mumbling quiet things into his chest, words he can’t make out as he gently lowers her into the passenger seat of his McLaren. When he’s finished buckling her seatbelt and triple checking that she’s secure in the car, he pulls back, but not before she’s grasping his hand and looking up at him with weeping eyes, “I miss you.”
Three words he’s yearned to hear for so long and yet, now, he can’t take them seriously. She’s drunk, she’s blacked out, and she very clearly doesn’t know what she’s saying.
This isn’t real.
He knows that.
But, what if it is?
When they stumble through his threshold, Y/n bolts to the bathroom. He smiles softly at the way she still, even in her drunken mind, knows exactly the layout of his apartment. Retching emitted from the small room and he’s running over, kneeling down beside her as she empties her stomach into the toilet. His hand rubs up and down her back as the other holds her hair back, whispering sweet and soft words of love in her ear.
“It’s okay, Y/n. I’m right here.” Knowing she’ll wake up tomorrow and be disgusted by his presence makes the moment even more tender. He knows what will be lost tomorrow, he wants to savor it now.
Her hand moves from the toilet to grasp his shirt, the material hanging from his waist below her. It hurts to feel her touch, to know she seeks comfort in him, but it hurts even more to think of rejecting her, pushing her hand away. So, he lets it rest there, lets it seep into his skin and burn the area, marking it as her own and reminding him there will never be another girl as precious to him as her.
When she’s done, dry heaving the only thing sounding as she lays against the wall behind her, he sits with his legs crossed to the side. His hands rub her thighs as she recovers, and all he can do is stare at her. Her eyes are closed yet he can picture the exact color of them. He memorizes her nose, its upturn and freckles; he memorizes the Cupid’s bow of her lips, the feeling of the plush and soft skin tattooed on his; he memorizes the moles dotted across her neck and the cleavage of her boobs in her dress; he memorizes her arms, their warmth forever ingrained in his brain after Spa 2021 and she was the only thing he needed; he memorizes her legs, and her hands, her hair, the way her eyebrows are shaped, and jawline he’s wished to kiss again.
For it will be gone tomorrow.
He’s the first to wake up, thankfully. In case she woke up before him, he slept on the couch, her body taking up his bed for the night. He makes coffee with trembles in his hands as he awaits the moment she wakes up.
And when she does, she storms out of his bedroom, striding into the kitchen still in his t-shirt and sweatpants, the items he dressed her in the night before.
“WHY THE FUCK AM I HERE?” She screams at him, hands flailing at her sides as her cheeks redden with anger.
“You got drunk and wouldn’t leave the club until I came and got you, so Paige called me.” He responds calmly, knowing how uncomfortable she must be.
She scoffs, “AND I JUST COINCIDENTALLY HAD TO SLEEP HERE?!”
He shakes his head, “No, Y/n. Paige told me you had to sleep here because she still had to make sure the other girls got home safe. She didn’t have the time to get you back to her place herself.”
She quietens down, looking at him with a distant stare, “Did we fuck?”
He reels back, eyes bulging, “NO! YOU THINK I’D DO THAT WHEN YOU WERE WASTED AND IN THE MIDST OF WHAT WE’RE GOING THROUGH?”
“WE AREN’T GOING THROUGH ANYTHING, LANDO! WE ARE DONE!” She fires back.
“YEAH? THEN, WHY DO WE KEEP SEEING EACH OTHER?”
“I DON’T KNOW! IT’S NOT LIKE I’M ASKING FOR IT!”
Lando steps closer to her, taking a deep breath, “Last night, you told me you missed me. Is that true?”
“No.”
It hangs in the air, full of lies and deception.
“Yes, you do.”
She groans, “NO, I FUCKING DON’T! STOP TRYING TO HOLD ON TO SOMETHING I DON’T WANT ANYMORE!”
“WE WERE IN LOVE, Y/N! I KNOW YOU STILL LOVE ME IN THE WAY I DO!”
Her hands shoved at his chest, tears beginning to leak from her eyes, “THAT DOESN’T CHANGE WHAT YOU SAID TO ME!”
Unwillingly, Lando is taken back to the night that ruined it all. Refreshing his memory horrifically.
A YEAR EARLIER
Y/n chuckled as she threw Lando onto the couch, his drunken body landing in an awkward position.
“I’ll be right back, Lan. I’m just going to get you some water.”
He nodded, groaning at the swirling in his stomach. He heard her clank around in the kitchen, getting up and wandering off toward the sound.
When he reached her, he was very quickly overcome with desire and lust for his girlfriend. He stumbled over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her back to him. He began kissing her neck, spit and slobber coating the skin in an uncomfortable way.
Y/n dodged him, “Lan, baby, I love you, but you’re really wasted right now.”
He hummed, “It’s fine, Y/n.”
He tried to kiss her again, but she slid out from his hold, “No, Lando. Plus, I’m not in the mood.”
He reached out for her, but she moved too quickly for his drunken mind. He groaned in frustration, “Y/n!”
“Lando!” She gave right back, shaking her head at his antics as she continued to fill up his water.
When she gave him nothing as he stared at her expectantly, he said the first thing that came to his foggy mind, “Fine, I didn’t want to fuck you anyway.”
She giggled, not fully hearing what he was saying, “Sorry, what?”
“I said, I didn’t want to fuck you anyway. I’ll just go into my Instagram messages and find someone better, it’s whatever, don’t worry about it.”
He saw the way she slowly turned her head to him, “Lando, what are you say-”
He interrupted her, “Who do you think I should look out for? Someone with a bigger ass than yours? Or maybe with bigger boobs? How about skinnier? Or perhaps with a prettier face?”
She just stood and stared at him, the glass in her hands slowly slipping from her grip, “What the fuck?”
He laughed at her, “Come on, Y/n!” He pulled out his phone, waving it in her face, “Who should I look out for as a replacement for the girlfriend who won’t fucking do shit for me?”
Her hip popped out, his demeanor change blindsiding her, “Why are you saying these things?”
He huffed as he slurred, “Because you’re a fucking shit girlfriend! I’ve put up with it for years, your inadequacy to fulfill me! I’m fucking done. I’m over not being satisfied in everything we do. You aren’t attractive to me anymore, you aren’t funny anymore to me, you just don’t do it for me anymore. Someone, I know, can surely be better than you.”
His words were malicious and hot on his tongue as if he had been waiting to say them. The glass, like her heart, slipped from her hands and shattered at her feet. Shards littered the floor, cutting her bare feet, as Lando began laughing at her, “Oh, perfect! And, now, you can’t fucking hold a glass! Fucking pathetic.”
He waltzed out of the room, as if everything was fine and retreated to his room, slamming the door shut.
There, as she stood in the middle of a wet pool of glass, she cried.
Cried for the pain in her feet; cried for the man she loved; cried for the death of her confidence; and cried for the love that had just been ruined.
PRESENT TIME
Lando remembers waking up that next morning without her beside him, and being utterly confused. That was until he read the text message in which she reminded him of the things he said to her, informing him they were over, she wouldn’t look at his face ever again, and she was already on a plane away from Monaco, to not chase her.
He had never been given the chance to explain to her just how drunk he had been that night, how his words weren’t really his.
“I DIDN’T MEAN WHAT I SAID TO YOU!” He yelled in her face, trying desperately to get through to her.
“DRUNK WORDS ARE SOBER THOUGHTS, HUH?” She argued, hands pushing against his arms.
“ARE ROOFIED WORDS SOBER THOUGHTS?”
She stopped, taking a step back and staring at him. She was quiet, looking up at him with a newfound curiosity, “What?”
“I was drugged that night, Y/n.” He responded, finally allowing for the truth to come out.
Her eyes softened, looking up at him with the love he knew was within her. She walked back to him, closer this time, and wrapped her arms gently around his neck, “Are you okay?”
Testing boundaries, he laid his hands on her waist and when she didn’t protest, he leaned into her fully.
“When I woke up that morning, I had a really hard time reading your text. I got through it, but I couldn’t shake the fact that I genuinely felt like I couldn’t see. My vision was fucked. I got up, I wanted to go to the kitchen and drink some water, but my legs gave out under me and I fell to the floor. I struggled to walk, my head ached in a way I never knew was possible, and I puked all over the floor of my bedroom. I, obviously, knew something was seriously wrong, so I called Jon. He came and helped me into his car. I must’ve been pretty removed because he tells me, to this day, that I was mumbling things about you leaving me, shit I don’t remember ever saying. But, anyways, he drove me to the hospital and they did a shit ton of tests. The drug test, that’s how we found out I was drugged with Rohypnol, a roofie. They helped get it out of my system, but I was pretty fucked up for the next few days. And, then, when I truly came to about a week or so later, I realized the gravity of what happened between us, but, obviously, by that point, it was too late.”
His explanation left Y/n feeling slightly guilty. She had been with him that night, it was her job to make sure he was safe as she promised him she would be his designated driver, the sober one.
“Do you know who did it?” She asked to which he shook his head.
“No, I’m not sure. I don’t remember much from that night.”
He saw it in her eyes, “Y/n, don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself. There’s no way you could’ve known.”
Her eyes watered, “But, I should’ve known what you were saying to me wasn’t you, or even drunk you. I shouldn’t have shut you out. I should’ve given you time to explain.”
He nodded his head to each side, “Maybe, but what I said to you was horrific. Of course, you left me.”
She separated herself from him, walking into the living room as she cried. He sat down next to her on the couch, her tears soaking the shirt she wore as she struggled to gain her breath.
He pulled her into him once more, “Y/n, it’s okay. Your actions are justified.”
She shook her head, “No, it’s not that. I mean, it sort of is, but it’s mostly the fact that I spent this past year thinking you never really loved me. What you said to me that night, I’ve never forgotten it and I just spent so much time berating myself for thinking, for five years, you loved me back. I degraded myself over something that was completely manipulated.”
He laid his head on hers as he nodded softly, “I’m so sorry. If it’s worth anything, I truly did love you all five years. I still love you. I never stopped loving you.”
She pulled back, hands on his chest as she stared at him, “I still love you even if those words still haunt me.”
“Don’t let them, please. The fact that they came out of my mouth is enough. Don’t let them have any kind of value. You were and are the love of my life. There’s no one like you, Y/n. No one who could be better suited for me. You are more than enough for me. You’ve satisfied me in every part of our relationship. What I said that night, it couldn’t be farther than the truth. I could never fall out of love with you ever. There is no one I want to take up the other part of my bed than you.”
She wiped her tears, “What about those girls you were seen with this past year?”
He shook his head, “Didn’t hold a candle to you. Not my finest moment, baby. I’m sorry for it.”
“No, you don’t have to apologize for trying to move on, I just want to make sure you’re in this with me.”
He threw his head back, “Of course, I am. I’ll always be all in if you are too.”
She lightly smiled at him, returning to her spot against his chest as he laid them back against the cushions.
They laid there with each other, in silence, until the afternoon. Something that was once broken, now whole. Something that was once destined to end, now beginning again. Something that was once messy and complicated, now clear. Something that was once mistrusted, now fully capable of any challenge.
Maybe Lando could put that engagement ring to use now.
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frenchkisstheabyss · 4 days
Text
♰ ₥ØĐɆⱤ₦ ĐɆ₥Ø₦₴ ♰
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♰ Pairing: slasher!yunho x chubby!fem!slasher fucker!reader
♰ Genre: smut/dark romance/horror
♰ Summary: With a ruthless, brutal killer on the loose the safe thing to do would be to stay as far away from dangerous men as possible. But you've never been the kind of girl to play it safe and when danger comes in the form of a man like Yunho, how's a girl to stay away?
♰ Word Count: 3.4k-ish
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♰ Warnings: Yunho's a literal serial killer, neither of you die but someone does, sorta vivid description of a limb being chopped off, voyeruism in a way, slasher fetish, sadism, masochism, dom daddy Yunho, choking, restriction of movement, a lil nipple play, penetrative sex, sex covered in blood, dirty talk, scratching, hickeys, other forms of marking, creampie, manhandling, pet names (baby, princess, good girl), you're both kinda psychos...obviously.
♰ A/N: I'd like to say, "Oh, I wrote this because Halloween is coming up!" but, no, I didn't. I'm just a slasher fucker, okay? A part of this was inspired by one of my favorite horror movies and if you can guess it then let's get married. Love you forever.
On a side note, thank you @dawn-iscozy for suggesting Yunho for this. I didn't regret that decision for a solitary minute.
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There’s a killer on the loose. A brutal, wicked man who stalks the night preying upon unsuspecting victims. Some say he only goes after those he perceives as having done something wrong. His own perverse way of balancing the scales, righting the wrongs that the cops don’t have the balls to fix.
Others say it doesn’t matter who you are or what you do. Your chances of being butchered are all the same, sinner or saint. One thing’s for sure, once he has his sights set on you not even god himself can save you from the fate that awaits. You’re gone in the blink of an eye, never to be seen again. At least not in one piece. 
You’ve heard the warnings a thousand times over but none of them struck fear into your heart. On the contrary, you have quite the erotic fascination with his art as he calls it in the letters he leaves behind. There’s something about what he does that taps into a fetish for danger that you dare not tell another living soul about. You want to play with fire, scorch the tips of your fingers in his flames. That’s how you ended up here, straddling the lap of a man who claims to be the killer your sick little heart yearns for. 
You met at a club. The kind where people go to indulge their wildest fantasies, no matter how depraved. You were wandering around alone in a tight latex mini dress that fit the richness of your curves like a glove. You had your hair pinned up the way you do now, waterfalls of curls spilling down to frame your face. Expertly applied black lipstick adorned your kissable lips, drawing men in enough that they’d lose their minds thinking of all the things that pretty mouth could do. The man beneath you was among them. 
He spotted you from across the room, your figure bathed in red neon light as you sat at the bar plotting your next move. You let him buy you a few drinks, loosening you both up enough that secrets began to spill as freely as the vodka in your glass. “I wanna know if I tell you a secret, will you keep it?” the dark haired man whispered in your ear, a hand hovering dangerously close to your inner thigh. You swore that you would, hand over your heart. And that’s when he confessed. Your clear fascination with the man known as the Seoul Slasher had prompted him to reveal himself to you. 
You couldn’t believe it. A real live serial killer, an absolute monster, so hypnotized by you he was nearly drooling down your cleavage. Going against every self preservation tactic they taught you in school, you invited him back to your place for a bit of fun. An offer he excitedly accepted. For a man whose entire modus operandi is control, he was more than happy to relinquish it to you. In no time you had him spread out on your bed, arms and legs handcuffed to the bed frame. 
The entire room’s dark save for the flickering wicks of a few candles sprinkled about the room. You run a hand down his bare chest, sharp nails nicking at his tattooed flesh. He hisses at the sting, grinding his hips up against your core to add some pleasure to the pain.
You let out a giggle, fingers teasing the waist of his pants, “Tell me how you did it.” You flash your doe eyes, tightening your plush thighs around his hips. 
“How’d I do what?” he asks, far too preoccupied with your body to hone in on your words. 
“Those last two guys you killed. I wanna know every gory detail. You can tell me while I ride your cock.”
Your words certainly aren’t falling on deaf ears. He heard you loud and clear. He takes a calculated pause before providing you with a less than satisfying answer. “I used a butcher knife. Chopped them up real easy. Some of my best work I’d say.”
“Oh” you pout, shoulders dropping. You fold your arms across your chest, your disappointment hanging heavy in the air. “You really shouldn’t lie, you know? It’s a nasty habit.”
“Lie?” he scoffs, a nervous smile creeping across his face. His deception has failed and he doesn’t have enough brain cells to save this sinking ship. “I’m not lying, babe. I’m telling you. I used a butcher knife.”
You point an accusatory finger at him, applying pressure right between his eyes. “Dirty, dirty, liar” you sing, “You aren’t the Seoul Slasher.”
“And how would you know?” he asks, unjustly offended at the fact that you aren’t stupid enough to buy his bullshit. 
You lean in close, the warm flames of the candles reflecting in your eyes like hellfire. “Because I’m already fucking him and he’s not too happy about you going around pretending to be him. It’s just bad manners.” 
His smile grows more strained, his nervous laughter tickling the tip of your nose. He can’t tell if you’re serious or not but this is getting a little weird. Even for him. You watch him for a moment before erupting in soft, sweet laughter that mocks him. Reaching underneath your pillow you pull out a gag and shove it right into his mouth, shutting him up for the first time tonight. 
“Baby, I’m done playing now!” you call out like a housewife announcing that dinner’s ready. 
You sit back up, climbing off of him, and skip your way over to the dresser on the other side of the room. You hop up, feet giddily swinging back and forth to the tune of heavy footsteps descending the hallway. The man’s eyes dart over to the closed bedroom door, his heart thumping out of his chest. You can make out a few muffled protests but you dare not take it out. There’s nothing he can say that interests you now. Not that it ever did. 
When your best friend first told you that a guy at the club was going around claiming to be the Slasher, you couldn’t believe your ears. Especially not when the real one was sleeping peacefully beside you. Further investigation proved that your best friend had been telling the truth so he had to be dealt with. Then another popped up and another. This one will make for the 4th and you must admit, as annoying as identity theft is for your boyfriend, you get a kick out of luring them here. 
They always start out so cocky but once the gag’s in and those footsteps come, getting closer and closer at an agonizing pace, they’re not so confident anymore. At first they freeze up just like the corpse they’re soon to be. The shock does need a few seconds to set in. And then they panic, screaming through the gag and tugging at their bindings, their bodies writhing like a fish out of water. This one’s no different than the others. You can guess his next move like a film you’ve watched a dozen times and all of it’s in vain. 
Sweat slicks his brow as the door creaks open and your face lights up like the Fourth of July. You breathe a sigh of relief. There he is. You’ve only been apart for hours but it feels like an eternity. A tall figure steps out of the shadows into the candlelight, revealing a handsome man in tailored black pants and a black button up you pressed yourself. His sleeves are rolled up, tucked just below the elbow where a pair of long black latex gloves begin. He spares the unfortunate soul strapped to the bed a passing glance before approaching you. He leans forward, palms flat on the dresser, caging you in. 
“Did I do okay?” you question innocently, always hungry for the praise he never fails to feed you. 
Yunho nods, gloved fingers stroking your soft cheek, “Oh, my good girl. You did more than okay. What would I do without you?”
Taking your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, he tilts your head up, capturing your lips in a kiss that would soak your panties if you were wearing any. He takes a deep breath as he pulls away, not wanting to but knowing that time is of the essence.
“Did he touch you?” Yunho’s jaw tenses, gloved hands flexing to warm up for the night’s events. 
You peek around him to check in on the dark haired man. His face is wet with tears and he’s sobbing all over your new gag. You pray he hasn’t pissed himself. You’re not in the mood to have to buy a new mattress again.
You look back to your boyfriend and nod. “In the car he put his hand on my thigh.” 
“Thank you for telling me, baby,” Yunho says, kissing you on the forehead. He turns around, eyes darkening as he approaches the foot of the bed. “I’ll start with his hands.” 
Kneeling down, he slides a large case from underneath the bed and pops it open to reveal his tools. The spread is a pristine assortment of autopsy tools, not a lowly butcher knife in sight. He delicately runs his fingers over them, settling on the fine toothed bone saw. Your gaze never leaves him as he rounds the bed, aligning the sharp teeth of the saw with what you’ve come to know as the ulna. The bone right on his inner forearm. 
Yunho grinds the saw against it and the man’s arm tears open, tattered pieces of flesh splintering off to the side as he carves his way through tough tendons. Blood gushes from the man’s arm, drenching the brand new sheets in a river of crimson. Yunho’s movements are precise and purposeful. The saw taps bone as the body below him convulses violently, the pain beyond anything you can imagine or ever care to. 
Your boyfriend pauses, glancing over at you, and you know it’s about that time. You open one of the drawers beside you, fishing out your phone and a pair of over ear headphones. You sync them up, hitting play on your favorite song, and smile lovingly back at him.
He can’t be as brutal when he knows you’re listening. It’s one of few things about his profession he’s never quite been able to bring himself to expose you to. Even with the man’s cries muffled, being dismantled brings sounds out of someone that could give the most vile person nightmares. You can watch all you want but you won’t hear them.
It’d be easy to say that you weren’t like this before you met him. You were a sweet, delicate flower and this charming psychopath came along, corrupting your young soul. But a girl doesn’t get wet watching her boyfriend dismember people because she had her purity corrupted.
You were never innocent, you’d simply presented yourself as such. Yunho just freed you from the prison of feeling guilty about what got you off. Power. Not being at the mercy of anyone. Yunho treats you like a princess. You’re never left wanting for anything. Your every desire is satisfied. So what if your Prince Charming comes with a body count? Nobody’s perfect. 
Yunho makes quick work of the body. After the slice to his second arm the man’s already at death’s door and the severing of his knees puts the final nail in the coffin. Yunho tosses the body parts to the ground like the limbs of an old doll. Breathless and blood soaked as he licks splatters of scarlet from his lip, he goes in for another cut.
You’re the only other thing he looks at like he does his work. The excitement of the kill is borderline orgasmic, dopamine coursing through his veins with every gruesome cut. Once he starts he has to keep going, chasing his high until it’s finished and the body’s nothing more than scattered pieces of an impossible puzzle. 
Shoving the torso to the floor, he steps back to catch his breath, waving to get your attention. You slip your headphones off, setting them down to navigate the landmine of limbs and entrails to reach your love. 
“You need some water, Yunie?” you ask, throwing your arms around him. The blood weighing down his clothes sticks to your arms, cool against your skin. It used to feel a bit strange but after a few times you’ve come to find it refreshing like a cool shower on a hot day. 
Yunho shakes his head, a dazed look in his eyes. Usually the adrenaline begins to die down after that final cut but it’s only getting more intense. His chest rises and falls rapidly as he salivates over you like a man on the brink of starvation. “No, I need you. Right now.” 
His lips crash into yours at a thousand miles per hour and you don’t even attempt to stop him. Why would you? Bloody gloves cling to your dress, stripping you of the material. You rip his shirt open, sending buttons raining down onto the slippery hardwood floor. Yunho’s hands ravenously explore your body as you rid him of his pants, painting your plush figure in blood like a canvas. 
Attempting to feast upon your body through gloves is as close to torture as he’s ever come so he tears them off, groaning in delight as his bare hands sink into your pillowy ass. He picks you up, tossing you back on the bed, your breasts bouncing marvelously as you land.
You grin watching your boyfriend stare down at you like an absolute animal. His body’s everything dreams are made of, his flawless, rigid cock already leaking in anticipation. You spread your thighs, teasing him with the arousal dripping from your entrance. Bringing two fingers between your legs, you stroke them between your lips, spreading yourself open for him.
“You want it?” you moan, back arching as you pinch your sensitive clit. 
Yunho positions himself between your legs, palming his cock above a pussy that’s clenching wildly at the ghost of what could be. He places a hand on your thigh, admiring the view. You in a sea of blood toying with yourself for his pleasure. What a sight to behold.
“You aren’t teasing me are you?” he asks, gripping your thigh tighter. His voice is low and rough, feral in every way. 
You bring your slick fingers up to the head of his cock, coating it on your juices. “And what if I am?”
You motion to get up, your brain set on tasting his cock on your tongue, but Yunho’s quicker than you, grabbing your wrists and pinning your arms over your head. His free hand wraps around your neck, the veins of his arms pulsing as he applies the right amount of pressure to leave you breathless but not in pain. 
“Do you want it?” He bumps his cock against your slit, missing on purpose to drag it between your folds. Your body shudders as much as it can with his full weight on you. 
“Mmhmm” you hum, knowing he won’t hurt you but loving that you’re completely at his mercy. 
“You know that’s not enough, baby” he smiles, squeezing your throat tighter, “I need to hear it, princess. Tell me you want it. Beg for daddy’s cock.”
He presses his throbbing tip to your entrance but this time he arches into you, giving you the head and nothing more. The stretch of that alone is disorienting, a wave of heat rushing through you. Releasing his hold on  your throat, he brings his lips to yours, parting them to taste the desperate pleas that spill out. 
“I want you to fuck me, Yunie. I’m so needy for your cock. I have been all night” you whine and his tongue traces your lips. You taste delicious. He inches into you, feeding you a little more then stopping. A little more then stopping. And your body jumps with every motion, pitiful sounds pouring from your lips onto his. 
“Fuck me” you beg, an undeniable brokeness in your tone, “Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck…” Your voice trails off, eyes rolling back as he bottoms out. He lifts off of you, still holding your arms in place above your head, and thrusts into you ever so gently. You clamp down around him tightly enough that it’s hard to move, your pussy's too needy to let go. 
Yunho grins, cupping one of your breasts, “I didn’t know watching me kill got you so hot. You’re sick, you know that?” He pinches your nipple harshly and you squeal, twisting in his hold. 
“I know” you moan, blowing him a kiss, “But so are you.”
“Fuck, I love you” he growls, pulling you under with another dizzying kiss.
His thrusts grow harsher, your warm, spongy walls drawing him in impossibly deeper. His fingers knead the tender flesh of your breast as he brings his tongue down to soak your bud in equal parts blood and spit. Taking the bud between his teeth, he wraps his lip around it, suckling at it without losing his rhythm between your legs. 
“Yunie. So good. So, mmph, aah…” you’re moaning but he gives one particularly hard thrust to your cunt, knocking the words right out of your mouth. 
You want to touch him so badly. To dig your nails into his back while he fucks into you. To run your fingers through his hair, tugging at the deep brown strands as his tongue swirls around your bud.
“Touch” you pout, wiggling your hands. 
Yunho pops your bud free of his lips, licking his way up your breasts, across your heated skin, along your neck, until you’re eye to eye. “Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want.”
“Wanna touch you. Please, daddy” you plead. You’re so helpless. So beautiful.
Yunho watches you squirm, feigning indecision. After an agonizingly long contemplation, he turns your arms loose, the redness on your wrists marking where he held you. Your hands are drawn to him like magnets, scouring every inch of him they can reach just to feel him.
Your nails find his back, digging into the flesh. Yunho buries his face in your neck, moaning at the sensation. “Harder” he whispers, fingers knotting in the sheets beneath you. You dig your nails in deeper, breaking skin, and he’s on the edge of a whimper, the sensation nearly too much for him. 
Slipping an arm around your back, he keeps you flush against him, sinking into you over and over. Your mouth falls open, eyes squeezed closed. You’re saying something but nothing’s coming out. Only whines and moans, the occasional fractured piece of his name.
There’s no bracing yourself for a cock this long and thick. You just have to take it, let it destroy every bit of you until there’s nothing left. A sense of euphoria surges through you and your legs instinctively lock around his waist. 
“That’s it” he coos, fawning over the string of hickeys he’s left on your neck, “Be a good girl and cum for me.” Yunho grabs for your wrists one last time, locking them above your head. He pounds into you so hard the bed creaks, maybe even moves a few inches. “I wanna feel you gushing around this cock.”
Suddenly your breath hitches and your body feels weightless. It’s as if you’re floating above yourself. Watching this gorgeous man fuck you into the mattress like his own personal whore. And you are. You’re more than happy to be. Your senses come back to you in a rush of ecstasy and you’re trembling, crying out as you do exactly as he said. Creaming, gushing, dripping down his length. 
Yunho pulls back, kneeling between your legs to drag his cock out and glide it back in. He goes all starry eyed at the sight of his cock glistening in your cum and soon he’s spilling inside of you. Your needy walls milking his cock of the warm, white liquid that overflows from your delicious pussy.
His hand comes down on your plush belly, enjoying its softness as he feeds you those last few strokes. You’re still moaning weakly when he finishes, laying back on the bed and pulling you on top of him. 
Curled up safe and warm in his arms, you bask in the afterglow, thoughts of the man your boyfriend dismantled little more than a distant thought now. But ultimately it’s difficult to ignore. Especially when your eyes drift up and you notice something dangling in the corner of your eye. 
“Yunie” you say, lightly petting his shoulder. 
Yunho strokes your hair, looking down at you lovingly, “Yes, baby?”
“I think his hand’s still attached to the handcuff.”
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ilovechuuy4 · 2 months
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Hey! Idrk if ur active but I would like to request sub!Kunikida x m!reader smut :)
I have not been able to find smut BSD writers that will do m!reader and I'm desperate lol-
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And when I'm taking your innocence I'll be corrupting your mind.
Sub!Kunikida x m!reader
warnings; sub!kuni, m!reader, !AMAB, s3xual intercourse, intense descriptions of the male sex, mlm intercourse, rimjob, n1ppleplay, pure smut small hints of angst, possibly OOC, aftercare wasn't wrote but was indeed given, unprotected intercourse, Cumming inside, etc etc.
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A/N: Im so so so so sorry this was so delayed, nothing haz been going my way man Ive been feeling so sick lately and no motivation but I hope you enjoy😣(I'LL REQUEST SOME MLM BSD WRITERS AT THE END!! ) p.s e/c = eyecolor
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"Can I top you?" The question ran through Kunikida's mind ever since his boyfriend asked. You had been talking with some friend recently about how uptight Kunikida was and maybe if he wasn't so focused on his ideals he'd be less tense. So of course, that's what led you to asking the question. But that's also what led him to be under you right now in the bed y'all shared together. Your hands slidding up and under the other man's shirt cause him to let out a soft gasp.
This was all so new to him he didn't really know how to react this wasn't "apart of his ideals" he wasn't supposed to be with another of the same gender. He'd always imagine himself with a beautiful woman and yet, here he stares up at a handsome man. One that he'd knew he'd marry one day. "Are you sure.? You know, about this?" Kunikida asked in a hushed tone which made you pause everything you were doing before looking at him, your deep e/c eyes looking lovingly into his moss green ones.
"Of course I am, Kuni. I wouldn't be doing this if I wasn't sure. Just relax and I'll do all the work, okay?" You reassured, hand gently cupping the blonde man's face your thumb rubbing his cheek. "Alright, I believe you." Kunikida hummed before he leaned in, kissing the man that sit on top of him. The kiss was slow and gentle, you smiled into it kissing him back. Your hands trailed down, fingers unbuttoning the tight pants that cover the other's pale legs. This was the first time that the ideal striken man ever went against those ideals that literally dictatated his life so you could completely understand why he was so nervous.
You slowly slip off his pants, pushing them down all the way until they were throw into a small pile on the hardwood flooring of the bedroom. You then allow a finger to hook under the waistband of Kunikida's boxers slowly pulling them down before his smooth cock springs to life leaving the man to gasp softly as the cold air touching his now exposed lower half. He looks at you from were he lay on the bed, his face painted with lust. "Are you alright?" You ask, you yourself wanted to continue but you wanted to make sure the other party wanted to as well.
"I'm sure, I'm just you know. Nervous." He said under his breath. You nod softly, grabbing the hem of your shirt before slipping it over your head. It was regarded before going down, taking one of the blonde's nipples into your mouth nipping at it slightly with your teeth before sucking on it. Soft whimpers were coming from deep within Kunikida's throat. Noises he wasn't sure how he made but here he was, squirming under your pleasurable acts of love.
"Be.. mhm~ be careful." Whined Kunikida, his breath coming in soft labored pants as you pull away. You swiftly pull off your shorts leaving you in only your boxers now. "Would if be fine if I were to..give you a rim job? I don't want you to be uncomfortable with anything I do." You asked, you wanted to make sure he wanted to do this. It was about his pleasure and comfort too. The room had fallen silent for a moment as you looked at your love, his face riddled with embarrassment yet he nodded. His entire trust in you was now as he slowly turned over and lay on his stomach.
A sly smirk played on your face, you lived how much trust he put into your though you've only did this once or twice in past relationships. You reach over, grabbing a pillow before slipping it right under his hips before diving down. Your hand gently squeezing one of the others asscheeks before spreading it. Dipping in your tongue pressed softly against his entrance, tasting him. You watch as he squirmed, back dipping into the mattress. You reach up, allowing your hand to trail along his pale skin that his spin pokes out of. Fingers slowly rubbing along his spine.
You allow yourself to lap at his hole, feeling as your lover slowly relaxed and let the pleasure take control. Moans from the opposing side filled the room as ever so slowly, you slipped your tongue inside him causing him to gasp, his back arching. "Wait, hold on a minute.." He gasped out, his legs trembling he wasn't sure how to react to this it was an odd feeling of tightness in him. You allowed yourself to wait for a moment before slowly pumping your tongue in and out of him before you slowly press a finger in as well, stretching him slowly.
"Relax for me, kuni. It feels weird but relax, your really tight." You said, pulling your tongue away allowing your finger to pump in and out of him slowly before adding another digit. "Fuck.." Kunikida cursed before speaking once more. "My mind is like a blur. Like you just scrambled my very last thought." He groaned, the two digits inside him still thrusting, stretching him open for you. "We don't have any condoms." You abruptly say which caused the blonde to choke on his spit before swallowing it down. "It's.. That's fine." He hummed with a nod soft whimpers escaping his mouth.
You couldn't help but worry for him, what if when yoy do penetrate he hurts. Well of course it will hurt, it's his first time but, you're just scared. You shake your head, swallowing down the uneasiness before withdrawing your fingers. You help kunikida turn over and you couldn't help but smile at his beet red face. You plaster feather light kisses all up his neck and to his jaw line before kissing him slowly. You felt the heaviness over the others arms wrapped around your shoulders as your tongue slips inside his mouth, exploring his sweetness.
You take this time to lube your member up and apply some to Kunikida's hole. You slowly position your cock to his entrance before rolling your hips slowly. Your tip pushes past the tight ring of muscle cause the other to moan into your mouth. Your free hand, which wasn't gripping the blonde's hips was softly wrapped around his cock, pumping it slowly so he didn't pay much mind to the slight pain of you entering him. Finally, you were have way in before the pain was gone as Kunikida was moaning, his back arched like a cat.
You can't handle it anymore, soft grunts escaping your throat before you swiftly push all the way in with a deep groan. You could feel how he tightly he squeezed around your cock which made you want to take him roughly. But you knew you shouldn't. You keep your pace steady, slowly thrusting in and out. Kunikida's moans were surprisingly loud as they filled the room. His short nails digging into your shoulders as your pace picked up. Your eyes widen a bit as you heard the other gasp, you thought you hurt him which made you stop.
"Are you okay?" You said, gently cupping your lover's face. He was panting heavily, his cock leaking pre before he spoke, his voice trembling. "It was just that spot you hit..it felt like no other." Kunikida mutters to him, his face red with embarrassment. You laugh softly before you press a kiss to his forehead, slowly rolling your hips back into motion as you pump your cock in and out of him. "Your prostate. That's what it was." You said reassuringly, letting him know it was totally normal.
You increase the pace, the tip of your member constantly hitting his prostate, causing his eyes to roll back in ecstasy. His loud moans echo off the wall, they were truely music to your ears. Kunikida's thoughts were jumbled and clouded he could only souly focus on how amazing this felt and how he'd never thought of reversing the rules like this with you. "Ahh~ fuck.. Wait!~ honey, keep hitting right there..~" He groaned, his eyes closing shut as he felt his orgasm build inside of him and bubble up.
"You're close, aren't you?" You asked, thrusting deeply inside him, hitting all the right places. You watch as he moans, his being trembling under yours. Pre was oozing from the tip of his cock as he whined and whimperer uncontrollably. He felt it all building up at once before he came,his eyes shut tightly as he rode out his orgasm. The way he tightened around you made you spill. Your seed shooting deep within his core.
You collapse onto him, panting heavily. "God, I love you. So so much." You say to him, pulling him on top of you when you turn on your back. You held him close, not wanting to leave him for a while. "I love you too. I adore you actually." He said, head rested on your chest. "Though, I could say you took more than my will to think. You took my ideals." He said softly, he was spent. His sentence made your heart swell up. You knew how much his ideals were to him and it was amazing how he'd give it up just for you.
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A/N; Recommended BSD MLM writers; @melonn-soda @prettyrainsstuff @zzprompto @sleep-0-deprived @queer-n-here @kissatoru @kisakis-boyfriend @hunn1e-bunn1e @nishikiace
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gazorninplat · 6 months
Text
As much as I love Disco Elysium, I think I was not prepared for Sacred and Terrible Air. Of course, I was expecting to know more about the world of Elysium as a whole, and Robert Kurvitz is a very good writer, but the thesis of the novel (and how it makes its points) flash-banged me.
Disco Elysium this is not, and it wasn’t supposed to be, but I think I can understand better now what the team at ZA/UM was getting at with this specific setting, and these specific narrative angles. Kinda messy, because it’s been a week since I finished it, but here are some things I’d like to highlight: 
1. The pedophilia. I surely wasn’t expecting this to be such a central theme of the novel, but a lot of its main points revolve around it. The most interesting use of this, as a narrative device, is how the girlfriend of Jesper basically accuses him of being a pedophile because he cannot relate to the adults around him. He’s still obsessed with a girl he met when he was 13 years old, and fetishizes a scrunchie he stole from her bag two decades ago. Yeah, I guess Jesper, well into his thirties, is still in love with a 13 year old girl. His girlfriend is almost half his age, and they started dating when she was 15 years old and a lingerie model (!). Zigi mentions how pedophilia was a bougie disease, and well… That idea went right into my thought cabinet (I call it “Bougie Babies for Sale).
Still processing it.
Now, let’s go back to the rest of the main characters. With all this in mind, a pedophilic overtone covers their interest in these four missing girls, but Jasper is the only one who acts on it, sort of. Khan remains in a sort of arrested development (he still uses a shirt he had when he was 13), foregoing normal adult relationships, and Tereesz joins the police as an investigator with the idea of still finding them some day (essentially letting these eternally prepubescent girls define his entire existence), leading him to a very dark path. I wonder if the brutality they afford to the “actual” pedophiles in the story (Vidkun Hird and the Linoleum Salesman) comes from the realization that they are not that different?
2. Obviously, though, this fetishization of the Lund sisters is also a fetishization of the past. The novel states it in the first few pages; they disappeared twenty years ago, in a time that most conservative people remember as the “good old days”. Basically their version of the American Fifties. Now, being obsessed with the past is a running theme in both SaTA and DE, but the angle here is different.
I already said it: the past is not remembered, is fetishized with an almost sexual yearning by a lot of the male characters of the book. They want to be consumed by it (and lucky them! It will) and do nothing more than serve it. It reminds me of a poem by Yamil Nardil Sadek, which, translated to the best of my ability, goes like: 
She awaits me
sitting on the bed,
wearing leather,
and armed to the teeth,
the Memory.
Yeah, that sums up Sacred and Terrible Air pretty well. Everyone is being consumed by the past, bite by bite, and enjoying it. Vidkun Hird, by the mythologized version of his tribe’s history; Sarjan Ambartsumjan, by a miniature ship model that requires constant, devoted thought or else it will disappear, the three main characters by the memory of that summer with the Lund girls. Even the Linoleum Salesman is being haunted and consumed, of sorts, by his sickness and dementia that only sometimes let him take a peek of the past. Beyond that, there are very few characters that do not spend time being followed by relentless ghosts. Literally, in the case of Zigi. Which brings me to…
3. The Pale. It was a really cool concept in Disco Elysium, and it’s an existential nightmare in Sacred and Terrible Air. It always was, really. But here it lets you take a look into it in a way that’s applicable in real life. The Pale is a metaphor for many things, but actually for a single one: A world where our current Capitalist reality facilitates both apathy and yearning for better days, often idealized in our collective pasts.
My favorite scene, one that was incredibly puzzling but so obvious in retrospect, is a beautiful speech by the ghost (?) of Ignus Nilsen to Zigi. I will just paste it here:
“I said terrible things, yes! I stood on a white horse, in a blizzard, and gave speeches. In the mountains, on the construction site… I swung my sword, with silver sunbeams on the hilt. And all around me fluttered white flags, crests of crowned horns made with silver thread, a pentagon between the prongs of the horns, the branches raised to heaven. Everyone who came here with me became happy, Zigi! Communism is powerful! Believe in Communism, it’s a burst of enthusiasm! I promise! It’s beautiful when you believe in a person, but without it…!”
“Without it, there is nothing.”
“Nothing. It was a blizzard, but it was bright, it was morning. Communism is white, it sparkles! Communism is the morning, it is a jubilation!” 
The Pale begins to recede dangerously around the entroponaut.
The fucking Pale recedes with talk of Communism! At first it might appear a little heavy handed (yeah, Communism, by itself, could save the world). But then I got into how Communism could be a solution to the antipathy and chronic nostalgia that sustain Capitalism, and then it hit me. Nilsen, a literal ghost from the past, is talking about a future that could have been. That he wanted to accomplish. That people, probably, can still achieve. The Pale is not eternal, it can be pushed back. Because the Pale seems to subsist on the past, it abhors any talk of the future. A better future. That’s how we solve things, and for a central thesis, is not bad at all.
With that being said, and because I’m just rambling here while pretending I’m working, there are also some things that I just didn’t understand, but maybe it was because of the translation. The original novel is written in a very poetic style, and some of that is still here, but I still need to untangle…
1. The Man. It is said that the day the Lund girls disappeared, they were joined by a mysterious Man that nobody seemed to remember correctly. A character even suspects that she was remembering wrong. Now, the Pale erases people and memories retroactively, so maybe it had something to do with it, but… Who was that? Is there any theory about that Man, or I just missed something? Some scenes and narrations were tough to parse for me (my primary language is not English).
2. Was Malin Lund pregnant? That flash with the fetus was sudden and weird.
3. What was the significance of the three meat piroshkis? They mention that it was unusual that the girls bought them (and if you do the math, you can realize early on that they were not planning to get back home. That purchase didn’t leave them enough money for the bus fare back), but that’s it. Were they for the Man? Also, the narration mentions that Lund girls’ picnic basket contained “the kind of things girls like to eat”, so maybe they were planning to see the boys and bring them the kind of things boys eat? I’m overthinking that? The chapter actually titled “Three Meat Piroshkis” just left me even more confused.
4. I don’t understand how Khan’s pen works at all. The one he brought to the school reunion. That was the part I re-read the most. Anyway, even with that, I loved Sacred and Terrible Air. Definitely one of the most enthralling reads I had, with or without the background of Disco Elysium. I’d still like an official translation that could potentially solve the issues I had, but for now, a Top 10 Book for me.
Go for it now.
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wandasaura · 1 month
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Not really a request but something I can’t get off my mind: r being a brat all day and Natasha trying her best to tame but r just gets more bratty. When Wanda tries she realizes r just isn’t feeling good and doesn’t know how to communicate that
natasha's been trying all day to get you to cooperate with even the simplest of tasks and orders. it started when you refused to get out of bed, but you'd already promised to come into the office with her and it's too late to back out because she's set up little tasks for you that need to be done and she's allotted everyone else's time to different/more important things. you fought her the entire time, whining and stomping your feet and grumbling beneath your breath until she had bent you over the counter and spanked you. that wasn't even enough to pacify your attitude for any longer than a handful of minutes. you fought her about eating lunch when the time rolled around, only munching on a handful of french fries that she'd reluctantly ordered after you'd straight up refused to eat the salad she got you (which should've told her you weren't feeling well, because she'd made sure to specifically order your favorite salad that you only ever get when you come to work with her, but she was so stressed with work and annoyed by your attitude that she didn't think anything of it). you found her on completing the tasks she assigned to you, which was really just running paperwork down to some employees and stapling her documents together (both things that you loved and constantly asked to do), but the final straw was when you returned home three hours early, not even stopping by to see wanda before natasha dragged you out of the building. you'd pushed her away when she tried to pull you into her chest, huffed and told her to fuck off, and if wanda hadn't walked through the door within the same breathe, you would've ended up with a bright red ass. it took wanda approximately six seconds to realize you weren't feeling well, and when she pointed out to natasha how your eyes had a sickly gleam over them and your voice sounded hoarse, everything clicked. you didn't want to get out of bed because you were beyond tired with a rising fever, you didn't want to eat because you felt nauseous, you didn't want to exchange pleasantries with her employees because your throat hurt, you didn't want her touching you because every time she had before, she'd laid a harsh spank to your ass when your body already hurt. she literally feels so bad about how she neglected to really look at you all day, but its quickly made up for when she makes your favorite boxed soup for dinner, letting you lounge against wanda's chest as she spooned it into your mouth, your favorite show that she hates on the television. and the next day, when you're feeling the slightest bit bette but still undeniably sick, she apologizes and cancels all of her meets to lay in bed beside you.
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b1mbodoll · 1 year
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i dont know why hybrid breeders thought it was a perfect idea to put bunny!you in a cage with wolf!nicho (>人<;) he so obviously could break you to pieces but instead he likes to play with you! pulling on your ears and flicking your tail :( it's enough to make you whine everytime but he doesn't care !!!! and eventually when his heat comes, you can tell bcs hes twice as mean when teasing you, pushing you down and lifting your ass up so he could "play with you like normal" but the whole time his hybrid cock is running against your pussy TT n when you get really fussy it gets hard not to fill you all the way up completely (non con) ★★★ literally theres no way you're getting out of his hold! you can cry and try to push him away but hes 10x stronger than you and his heat makes him soooo hot all he can think abt is making your tummy swell up with his pups! (so unrealistic but i know you're into it but imagine him fucking his knot into you so deep it starts pooling out your mouth and your eyes are rolled back and u cant do anything but feel it completely)
love 🎀 anonie!
pairings: nicholas wang x f! reader
warnings: hybrids + inflation + knotting + breeding + blood + noncon + jealousy + a/b/o dynamics + drool + daddy kink + subspace + inflation
💌: i had to prio this bc its so dreamy like 😵‍💫 u included a lot of my fave kinks n tropes n im so thankful i love u so much for swndinf this my way idk how much i can add on bc its lrtrly perfect but i hope i do it justice !
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the first time you and nicho r forced into the same cramped cage your heart was racing and ur tail was twitching so bad :( your reaction tugged at nicho’s heartstrings but the lust he felt was overpowering any bit of sympathy. he’s not a complete monster so he doesn’t take your virginity immediately. instead the wolfboy satiates his sick need to torment you by tugging at your loppy ears and mouthing at your cotton tail, strings of saliva coat the entire thing n pool at your asshole.
he doesn’t go any further yet, has to get you used to the “tame” stuff before he can fuck you raw. tries to hold back for as long as he can but the closer he gets to his rut, the less self control he has n it’s your fault he’s got his teeth planted on your shoulder as he slips his cockhead inside. “your pussy is so tiny, bunny,” he murmers, words slightly slurred from the drool escaping him, “gonna fuckin’ tear you apart.”
before he’s able to fill you up completely, nicho’s needed in the breeding room n your handler lets you out into the gated pasture, doing their best to keep you two in seperate enclosures from that moment on.
it’s been a week since your caging situation was sorted n the wolfboy is lucky if he catches a glimpse of you through a fence. words cant describe how furious nicholas is, snarling at the sight of bunny hybrid! euijoo cuddling up to you under a tree wishing he could scare the male into submitting to him n prove to you that he’s the prime mating choice.
it’s not long before your luck runs out and wolf! nicholas corners you after your caretakers have gone to bed. he’s so large and intimidating and his cold stare makes your legs shake with fear. the silence is deafening and he breaks it by asking to play, the question making your blood run cold because in his world, “playing” means letting him grope you n leave bloody lovebites across your chest. he doesn’t bother waiting for a reply because no matter how much you refuse he’s not gonna leave you alone. he needs to touch you.
nicho decides to go about toying with you differently this time. has to put you in your place n get it through your head that you nd your bunnycunt belong to him! snarls when he gets a whiff of euijoo’s scent, “present f’me, slut” he demands and the need to obey is so strong. has you opening your legs immediately, small hands spreading your hole open to expose your pussy. he groans at the sight and his mind becomes cloudy due to his impending rut, cant take the time to prep your cunt for his huge cock so he just opts to get it over with and makes you take his entire length in one go. “knew you’d feel good ‘round my cock,” his voice is thick, “gonna make you have my pups, bun.” more filthy words are directed to you n they have you keening, fucking yourself on his cock faster n faster.
it’s easy to slip into a submissive headspace, the feeling of his balls slapping your clit and knot beginning to inflate are overwhelmingly delicious leaving you no choice but to beg. “pleasepleaseplease cum, alpha! need your knot so bad i hafta make you a daddy!” nicholas fucking howls when his seed shoots directly into your womb and it makes your eyes cross. even after his knot reaches its full size he continues grinding his cock into you, cum getting pushed so deep inside it spills out of your open mouth n trickles down your chin. he’s too far gone and can’t stand the sight of his semen dripping out, cups your jaw with his hands n covers your mouth, makin you choke on the creamy fluid <3
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phfenomena · 9 months
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❝soon you’ll get better. ❞ william h. bonney x f!reader
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| A/N- just imagine billy taking care of you when you’re sick <33 he’d be so sweet i’ll literally cry
| WARNINGS- sickness, talk of death,
william h. bonney x reader fluff
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your throat burned when you attempted a deep breath, and your nose felt like you were breathing through a wall. your body temperature was too hot but you felt entirely contrary to that. as you lay shivering and complaining in your mind of the pure unbridled annoyance you feel that out of all people you got sick.
billy had stepped out almost an hour ago saying he needed to grab some more things for you, but you couldn’t care less about what he thought you needed. you just needed him.
he comes in clumsily setting each bag and box of food you apparently needed. you slightly smile at the sound of things falling and his boots quickly moving around the wooden floor. you hear boxes and cans opening, and him swearing after he touches the boiling pot on accident.
you laid there on your side phasing in and out of consciousness as you wait for billy to be done with whatever he thought was important. you hear his boots approaching you and you lift your head up. he squats next to the bed and shows you his creation.
“it’s a potato and carrot soup, my ma used to make it when i got sick as a young’n. it’s like magic, just helps you recover real quick. the doctor said you’ve got a common cold, and i’d like to keep it common.” he brushes hair out of her eyes and sets his hand on your head. “i don’t know what i’d do without you, darling. sickness has taken away everyone from me and i won’t let it take you too. i’d go to the ends of the earth if there was an instant cure.” his eyes were soft and his eyebrows were furrowed. he laid a gentle kiss against your forehead.
you began to slowly sit up and let billy feed you small spoonfuls of the ‘magic’ soup. his gaze never leaving your face and his eyebrows never relaxing. you begin to feel guilty because he was doing something important, he wanted you to get better so he made you soup. a true gentleman. you thought.
“thank you, it’s really good.” you manage to croak out before he shushes you and comfortingly rubs his hand over your back. “save your voice, angel. it’s not good to be talkin’ in your condition.” you nod and continue eating the soup when his hand offers it.
“i ran into jesse when i was at the store, he said this colds been a real problem lately. most of the towns got it but it hasn’t taken anyone away yet, and you’re the strongest person here so i’m sure you’ll be alright, doll.” he sounded like he was comforting himself more than you but nevertheless you still nod and offer a small smile to him.
the next morning after a restless night full of billy holding you close, not caring if he got sick, you open your eyes and momentarily forget you were even sick the previous day. feeling alert and not freezing, you sat up and stretched. billy instantly following suit and eyeing you over. “how you feeling, angel?” his worried gaze studying every bit of you. “i feel fine, billy. stop worrying so much. stress isn’t good for you.” you quietly say, not used to talking, as you rub your thumbs over his furrowed eyebrows smoothing them out.
he chuckles and you’ve never been happier to see his smile. “cant help it when it comes to you, and i did tell you the soup was magic, did i not?” he says quickly forgetting the tender moment and instantly wanting his gratification. you narrow your eyes and look unamused. “yes billy. you did. i’ll have to make it for you the next time you get sick, you don’t get sick very often but i’ll have it on stand by.”
you come inside after wiping your boots off and heaving heavily from the heat. you were outside picking weeds and planting carrots and potatoes in the garden from the soup leftovers. there billy lay on the bed, groaning.
“i’m so damn cold and my head hurts. what’s wrong with my throat it feels so itchy.” he complains in an almost whining tone. you laugh as you approach him and press the back of your hand to his forehead.
“well, cowboy. you’re sick. seems you’ve contracted that common cold you talked about, get under the blankets and i’ll make the soup.” he dramatically turns over and looks at you with a grumpy facial expression. “this is your fault.” you hum and pat his head before stepping into the kitchen, laughing at how dramatic he is.
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🤠 🫶 :
Oh my god….
And Kortac’s enemies don’t understand where The Terror™ went, what could possibly have taken down a monster like that…König’s been even more menacing and violent and awful for several months now, taking every mission possible like he’s determined to destroy and kill everything he can, and there’s rumors he’s started literally ripping his opponents in half on the battlefield, and now he’s just...gone? So oh god, is there something worse out there??? Who is this who got to THAT behemoth of all people?? The rumors! The suspense! The horror!
Quick camera pan to reader, just singing to herself as she bakes some goodies to take to the sweet giant Austrian soldier (lmao she’s too forgiving, maybe she chalked up the “cunt licking” incident to a fluke, she’ll just have to be even MORE careful about where she lets him touch, he seems to get too excited). She just wants to do something nice for him, the poor man has been holed up in his company’s sick bay with something (turns out having your brain, heart, and cock explode are not good for your health, but “Blue balled into oblivion” is not something you can actually get diagnosed with, so it’s like…blood pressure issues or something).
König really should be more mindful of his health, tsk tsk.  
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Oh god this just gets better and better, she's worse than all his enemies combined, and she's baking for our poor broken soldier?! This is too cute 😭💞 (oh and 'tease mother'?? I want this to be my new middle name lol!)
Sweet innocent reader also heard König got into a weightlifting accident. On top of all the exploded body parts, dude sprained his back really bad trying to do a deadlift PR with all the 55 lbs plates he could stack on the bar.
Unfortunately the metal gave up before König, it broke in half in the middle of his lift, and rumours say the whole stunt was actually a cry for help, a suicide attempt, even… But no one will ever know because this man is not what you could exactly call a genius 🫡 So maybe it truly was an accident?
And of course sweet reader bakes him some yummy delicacies to cheer him up!
But oh uh. König almost cowers in his bed when he sees her. He goes completely still as sweet reader approaches him in her cutest outfit ever, smiling like an angel and with a box full of muffins in her hands.
She floats next to his bed like the most innocent butterfly ever, opens the lid so that the cozy scent of baked goodies fills the entire room. Then she picks the biggest, most plump chocolate chip muffin from that box and folds his mask over his nose to give him a taste.
Her movements are those of a ballet dancer as she brings the glorious treat to his lips… but it's her breasts his gaze falls to as she leans forward and gives him an abundant view of the two globes of pure sin, pressed together under the neckline far too wide for her usual wear.
Does this woman even know what she is doing to him...?
Is she fucking deliberately teasing him?
His mouth opens just for the sake of that mouthwatering view, and she takes it as a cue of him wanting her to stuff his mouth full of muffin.
"There we go," she says approvingly as he takes a bite while staring at her breasts, hovering there not even an arms length away. "I made them extra sweet for you…"
The ample view of her soft tits right there in front of him while his mouth is full of melting chocolate is truly a new plane of hell. Were she to turn around to look, she would see the tallest, most vicious tent forming there beside her as his cock juts up under the sheet in all it's glory.
The muffin is still warm, and she licks the extra grease from her fingers when she's done feeding him. He imagines she's licking his cum off of those fingers instead, and almost groans from the dull pain the mere vision sends to his crotch.
"Don't worry. I know you'll be up in no time, King," she chimes and gives him an exceptionally flirty smile. Whatever new torture methods are being used on him now, he hopes to all the gods that the sweet girl won't look behind her. He will just be shamed and scolded for being hard again.
It's absurd and kind of sad how much he has changed since he met her... He feels equal to the mighty Prometheus, bound to an invisible rock and being tortured night after night after night. It almost brings tears to his eyes.
"Oh. My sweet hero… Are you in pain?" She caresses his face through the mask with genuine pity and worry. A teary hiccup is trying to push up his throat, but he forces it down.
Plump breasts and overly sweet muffins and an innocent woman calling him 'King' and 'hero'? Fussing about his health, thinking it's his back that's giving him pain… A tiny little tear almost, almost escapes the corner of his eye as he gives her a tiny, miserable nod.
"Poor thing. You know, I've been thinking…" she bites her lip, takes a deep breath too, sending those breasts swell inside her shirt and giving his cock another demanding pull.
"I really like you," she continues. "And I've finally decided. I want you to be my first."
Was zur Hölle…
His eyes go wide, but otherwise, he's still. The girl dares to give him a peaceful smile while his mind goes slowly blank from the voiceless, internal scream.
What the fuck has he done to deserve this?
She's finally ready, and he has broken his back so profoundly that there will be no moving for weeks. No exercise, no sudden movements, certainly no pounding her sweet, wet virgin pussy to his heart's content.
"We just need to wait until you get better. Doctor's orders!" she chirps as she softly boops his nose.
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chigirizzz · 1 year
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ONE STEP FORWARD, TWO STEPS BACK — I. SAE
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warnings/tags: angst, hurt/a little bit of comfort, gn! reader, descriptions of physical symptoms of anxiety, ooc sae??, not proofread
summary: love is confusing. a part of you knows sae loved you; another part of you makes you question that. if both parts can't coexist, was your relationship worth fighting for?
wc: 2.3k
notes: this one was difficult to write man. i literally rewrote almost every paragraph dozens of times until i thought this entire thing was worth of being posted. while writing this i was literally biting my own fist out of frustration lmao.
»»——⍟——««
being a professional football player for sure brings a lot of things in your life: fame, money, awards, fans, haters, sponsors, you name it. but one thing that no one ever seems to talk about is the painful feeling inside someone’s entire body when under the extreme pressure—the shortness of breath, the rapid beating of the heart, the big knot on the throat, the tightening of the stomach, the burning sensation in the eyes due to increased blood circulation, and so on.
sae was used to those feelings. it was part of his life as an athlete—it was part of his life ever since he was a young boy, like when he had to get ready to leave his home country to live in another one, practically alone, without his family. for days, young itoshi sae felt in panic, nauseous and was disturbed by severe headaches.
it’s funny how emotions can make you physically sick, right?
of course, anyone can feel like this—it's completely normal and it’s what makes us humans. for a singer, those symptoms of sickness might happen mostly on the stage; for a baker, those nerves might happen mostly when getting ready the perfect wedding cake; for a writer, that anxiety might happen mostly when publishing a book, afraid of what people will think of it and if it will sell well.
for football players, those sensations are, most of the time, absorbed by their bodies and minds the moment they step on the field.
sae falls into this category.
then, at the end of the day, people can still live through situations that make them feel anxious outside of their professions—perhaps they have to get ready for a date; perhaps they got lost and can't find the right path to go home.
sae does not fall into this category. he is a rational man who avoids people and feelings not related to his career. he always knows what to do and what not to do.
but today, today is different. today sae itoshi is in the second category, and he might be stuck in there for a while, who knows.
sitting on the edge of the bed you both share, he inhales deeply as his hands make their way to grab said edges. the soft material of the bedspread under his fingers helped him cool down a little bit. so soft ♡. he exhaled after holding his breath for a few seconds.
he could hear your sobs.
you were sitting on the comfy sofa placed in the small, elegant balcony connected to your shared bedroom. although the curtains were blocking the outside view, the chilly, cold wind of the night would constantly move the brownish pink curtains to give the man the perfect—and heartbroken—sight of your figure in a curled up position, crying, with no sign of stopping so soon.
(brownish pink curtains… you wanted to buy those because it reminded you of sae's hair. of your boyfriend's hair. he could still hear your laugh when you suggested buying those.)
you too were in a psychological and physical distress; you too were in the second category—the difference, however, was that you have been in that same category for a while; meanwhile sae has only entered it today.
sae didn’t like the feeling of his sunken heart, of the big knot on his throat and of the tightening of his stomach’s walls when looking at you so miserable like that. and the worst part? he was the reason you were in that state.
in case you didn't understand yet, my dear reader, itoshi sae broke your heart once again and now your relationship is at a great risk of ending. by saying that sae has officially entered the "second category", we get the idea that said man is now anxious, scared, and physically sick with the thought of losing you—the anxiety that he only felt on the field and never in his personal life? he's feeling it right now.
and it’s only now that he understands how much he disappointed you ever since you two started dating. he remembers it all now: how he didn’t show any interest in your thoughts and hobbies (which is not true, he was just devoid of emotions but it still hurt you), how cold his responses could get, how he never denied that his career was the number one priority, the dry messages he sent you when you were excited, how mean he could be to other people even if you’d tell him how much you hated that attitude of his, how he would just gave you a gift after a fight instead of properly apologizing, how he stood up on you several times on a restaurant, all ready for him to arrive for your date, only to not appear because he preferred to stay late at practice and ended up forgetting the plans you both made…
the true—although not surprising at all—is, the oldest itoshi wasn’t good with feelings; he knew what to do and what not to do during matches, but when it came to human beings, he didn’t have an idea of what he should do or what to say—and let’s be honest, he didn't care about it either. sae did love you, though. the way he looks at you proves it; the marks he would leave on your body during nights so full of lust and romance that would be capable of shedding emotional tears from aphrodite’s eyes proved it; the way he'd roll his eyes and proceed to place soft kisses on your fingers when you complained of the water being too hot after finishing washing the dishes proved it.
the engagement ring he bought for you that is hidden in a safe place where you couldn’t find it proved it.
and now there might not be a day where he could put the ring around your finger and watch you giggle like a teenager in love.
his heart weighs heavier now, almost like it’s getting ready to be swallowed by the black hole formed on his stomach. fuck. he passes his hand through his reddish brown hair, tugging a few strands.
he got out of the bed and made his way to the door of the small balcony. there you were, still in a curled up position. your sobs have stopped already but a sniff or two could be heard.
“talk to me.” the genius didn’t know exactly what his tone was. tiredness? begging? regret? i-don’t-care-at-all-stop-acting-like-this? this man sure was confusing. there was no response, the only thing that could be heard were the sounds of the leaves of the trees moving with the wind, almost mocking, not sae, but you.
the way you rolled your eyes was unknown to him.
“seriously, y/n. head inside so we can talk—”
“fuck you, itoshi, leave me alone.” your intention wasn’t to be mean to him, you didn't think before speaking—it hurt both you and him—, but sometimes harsh words were better in specific times. this is a specific time, you should have shared your thoughts a long time ago. “you wanna talk now? you usually just buy me roses without saying anything.”
“i’m trying to fix things up.”
you turned your head to look at him, a sad smile on your lips. “and i appreciate it, really, but i’m just so fucking tired, sae.” your voice broke on the word “tired”. “and you just want to talk now because i said i was thinking of breaking up with you during our fight earlier? why, sae, why…” more tears were threatening to fall, voice still breaking.
teal colored eyes darkened. you were now looking at the view in front of you. you guys lived in a really peaceful neighborhood with big, expensive houses. the view was nothing special (a few trees, a few parked cars, a park near you), but it wasn't bad either. it's not like the view mattered as long as you lived with the love of your life.
even if said love of your life could sometimes be difficult to put up with.
you remember when you started dating him and met his younger brother, who had the audacity to say with a serious face that you would regret dating your boyfriend. although you now understand the point rin was trying to make, you didn't regret being with sae; you didn't regret anything at all. and if you were to be honest, you wanted to ignore the fight and just spend the night watching a movie or something, but you had to act like a mature adult and find a better solution.
were you, though, being a mature adult by giving that response to sae when he said he wanted to talk? you were genuinely confused.
sighting and while wiping your tears, you patted the uncopied place of the sofa beside you. "ok, let's talk. sit." the man did what you told and you moved away a few centimeters to give him more space. it was… silence. a mix of comfortable and uncomfortable silence.
without looking at you, sae rested his hand on top of yours, causing you to flinch a little by surprise, but paid no mind and let him interlock his fingers with yours, your thumb now caressing his pinky finger.
"what… what do you want to say?"
"were you telling the truth earlier?"
"about me breaking up with you?" a "mhm" was his answer. "yes, i was ." by the corner of your eye you noticed he stared at you after those words. your mind couldn't decipher what his thoughts were. "i don't like being stood up on a date two times in the same month, y'know?"
the man sighted. "i was busy with practice. and i literally warned you at a good time, you just got to the place too early."
you let out a chuckle in an ironic way. "you did warn me, yes, and i wouldn't mind if it was once or twice, but enough is enough, itoshi." it was the second time of the night—scratch that, it was the second time in your entire life that you called him by his surname. even when you were only friends, you would call him by his first name or by cute, silly nicknames. the second time the word itoshi came out of your mouth, it was full of venom; venom that seemed to wrap so tightly around his heart. "i know your career is extremely important to you. i understand that and i want to support you in any way, shape and form, however, things can't keep going like this."
"i see." the reddish brown haired man looked at both your hands still together. you didn't let go of him, you didn't want to and he didn't want it either. “i understand.”
he should say something more. something more profound, more romantic, capable of making you stay, but what can the prodigy do about it? sure, he'd be lying if he said he didn't want you to stay with him, but the decision was yours and he had to take it, whether he liked it or not; whether it’d left him heartbroken or not. besides, he now understands just how much he confused you with his true feelings. you both were tired of the constant kiss and make up.
just how sae could be an egoistic on the field, he could be also one on his private life (just ask literally anybody and they will confirm).
you let go of his fingers to turn your arm so that your palm was facing upwards, in contact with his, and you interlock your fingers again. “it’s not easy for me but… i feel like it’s the best choice.”
you spent a few seconds looking into each other's eyes, until sae leaned his forehead against yours and you did the same, with your eyes closed and enjoying the cold night breeze hitting your bodies, the breeze contrasting with the bittersweet heat formed in your hearts.
“so… is it decided…”
“yes… it is.” you were glad that he respected your decision and that you discussed the matter without further discussion. “i’ll still pack my things today. in the morning i’ll call a friend and ask them to stay at their house for a few days. then i’ll see how it goes.”
“hm.”
he offered to help you pack your bags, but you refused—him helping you would only make you more emotional and rethink your decision. that night, you and your now ex-boyfriend slept on the same bed, back to back.
»»——⍟——««
"hey,” it was now the next morning and you had just gotten ready to leave the house. sae called you before you had a chance to get out the door. “do not hesitate to call me if you need anything.”
a smile formed on your lips. now that you were changing your path in life, it seemed that you just lost a heavy weight on your shoulders. sae didn't like that, but again, he was in no position to make you stay. “ thank you sae, really. the same goes for you, though. and don’t overwork yourself.”
those words and the little chuckle that followed hurt sae like a bitch. you always told him to not work himself till exhaustion, yet he always ignored you…
“well… goodbye, itoshi.” before he’d answer, you stepped out of the door, closing it behind you.
as the sound of the engine of your friend’s car starting up reached his ears, he made his way to the bedroom, to reach out for the engagement ring he bought for you. he layed on the bed, hugging the tiny ring’s box, hot tears running silently down his cheeks to the pillow.
you were gone. you were officially gone.
»»——⍟——««
tagging: @izzylovestnbhd
thank you for reading. likes, reblogs and coments are appreciated ♡
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wizzdot · 1 month
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The Patron Saint of One Way Trips
Ch24
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Description: poor Laika’s self doubt raises its ugly head again. John is a sweetheart. Kyle is upset. Lots of angst, fluff etc xoxo
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Laika's POV*
I must have fallen asleep. I wake up next to Kyle, the others had left.
Oh god.. what have I done?! I've made a huge mistake forcing myself on them like that.. worthless stupid mutt, no one would ever want a stray like you. Why did you ever get your hopes up in the first place?!
Physically, I feel so much better - almost as if the heat fever hadn't happened at all. I slowly and softly lift his arm from around me and try to crawl from the bed. I need to hide from the rejection. I won't let it find me. I know it's coming. I just know it..Kyle's only here because he was literally stuck to me, because I practically forced myself on him.
I feel sick. Disgusting mutt!
I stand from my bed and don myself in my own clothes, feeling far too revolting to even dare to pull on anything of theirs..
I sneak out from the room, taking a final glance at Kyle, a tear falling from my cheek as I scamper away from the pack's private quarters.
As I reach the familiar hallway of the mess hall, I take a sharp left and go to the infirmary. I make sure to ask for the same kind nurse who had checked me when I first arrived. I trusted her - sort of..
She pokes her head out from behind a door and furrows her brow..
"I'm not aware you had an appointment Miss..." she doesn't remember my name
"...Laika" I supply for her "..and I don't.. I need to talk to you.. and ask for help.. please" I whisper, eyes darting to make sure no one is listening in or watching.
"Oh.. okay, you better come in then, I can call the Capta-" - "NO.. I mean, no, it's okay.. he wouldn't want to waste his time on something so stupid.. honestly"
I lie through my teeth with a fake, tight lipped smile on my face. She buys it though.. thank god.
"What did you come here for then, Laika..?" she asks, casting an eye over me, clearly checking for any external injuries.
"Uhm.. well- you know how you did the blood tests.. and they came back as sort of inconclusive but swaying towards Omega.. well - I want suppressants..just incase"
She narrows her eyes at me, confused by my request.
"Laika, from what I recall, the unknown drugs that you have been exposed to while in Russia haven't left your system yet. It would be dangerous to mix suppressants in while we still aren't entirely sure what you are.."
"I don't mind.. I'm happy to risk it.."
"Where has this all come from, honey? You are stressed and nervous, I can see your eyes darting all over the room, you've not made eye contact with me once, you're being deceitful and you're clearly panicking over something.. I want to help you, I do.. but I need to know a little more about what's happened.. do you understand where I'm coming from, honey?"
She leans forward in her chair and places a gentle hand on my leg. Just above my knee. She smiles, a trust worthy smile.
"I-I need to leave and I don't want anything to happen before I'm ready to deal with it.. I just want the suppressants, then you'll never see me again.. I'll be out of your hair...please..?"
"Okay, honey.. Let me just go outside and think this through.. I need to have a quick re-read of your file just to make sure you're not allergic to anything or if anything would be incompatible to your blood type.. just give me a few minutes, sit tight.."
She stands from her chair and gives me a squeeze on my shoulder and a smile as she leaves, closing the door behind her.
Thank god - she is helping me. As soon as I get these suppressants, I'm calling Kate and requesting an immediate pick up. I don't care where to. Just away from here. I've already done enough damage here. Filthy, disgusting mutt.
*John's POV*
I had left Kyle and Laika together, sleeping it off. They looked so comfortable and settled when I left. I decided to take Simon and Johnny to the gym - we'd been lifting weights - spotting each other. Simon is quite close to improving on my personal best but he hasn't managed it yet, thankfully.
As we walk back towards our quarters, I can smell a subtle hint of her scent in the hallway. I ignore it, and put it down to the fact that we probably have carried her scent around the base, having spent the morning in her bed.
My phone starts to vibrate in my pocket. I glance at it and see that it is Dr Lewis. What does she want? I thought my check was next week..?
I slide the green tab to answer "Captain Price speaking.." I greet.
"Captain, it's Dr Lewis.. I need to keep this quick because she isn't in a stable mood. I've got Laika here - she is in a bit of a state, rambling about needing suppressants and said something about never seeing her again.. I think she is planning to run away.. I'm not sure what's happened, but she needs someone to talk to. She is very fragile at the moment, Captain.. I sincerely hope nothing bad has happened to her under your watch.."-
"I'm on my way" I growl out, hanging up the phone. "JOHNNY, SIMON FOLLOW ME"
I storm my way to the medics, barging angrily past rookies. When we arrive, I order Johnny and Simon to wait at the entrance.
The Doctor is standing in the middle of the waiting room, no Laika to be seen.. "Where is she?" I grumble.
I can feel my palms splitting - my nails digging harshly into my skin. "Captain, she is in my office - I suggest you calm down.. she isn't going to take this well - I didn't tell her I was calling you.."
"You've done the right thing - I need to see her, where is she?" I ask again, quickly, trying to hurry things along.
"Follow me.."
I walk directly behind the slightly older Doctor, Fuck I wish she'd hurry the fuck up..
*Laika's POV*
I hear the door handle rattle slightly and then the Doctor steps into the room. What I don't expect is an angry looking John following closely on her heels..
"What on earth do you think you're playing at, Love..? Suppressants and threatening to leave..? Why...?" he barks at me.
I stare at the Doctor, my lip quivering and my eyes wide and red, from unshed tears. This isn't the first time I'd been betrayed..
She gives me an apologetic smile, mouthing 'sorry', before turning and leaving the room. Coward..
"...Laika?" John steps closer when the door closes.
"Speak to me, c'mon, Love" - "Stop calling me that" I whisper.
"I didn't hear that, speak up, Love.. I want to hel-"
"I SAID, STOP CALLING ME THAT.. IT'S NOT TRUE.." I shout.
John visibly recoils at my tone, tilting his head to one side and furrowing his brow. The tears start flowing freely now, I stubbornly turn away, refusing to face the Alpha.
"Look at me.."
"Laika..? C'mon, whatever this is about.. we need to talk about it..."
"Th-there's nothin' to talk about, Captain.. I need to leave"
"Nonsense.." - "S'not, I don't belong here.." my hands shake as I throw my arms in the air, exasperated. Defeated.
I hear him step closer again, then I hear his knee hit the floor in front of me. Alpha's don't kneel.
"Look at me.."
"Please, sweet girl.." - "don't call me that, either.."
"Jus- Just look at me.. please"
He kneels in front of me for at least two minutes, while I stubbornly refuse to face him from my seat. He doesn't move, doesn't sigh, doesn't so much as move a muscle. He waits for me..
I sit, sniffling snot and tears into the sleeve of my own jumper. He just kneels there. Unmoving.
"You can go.. I don't need babysat.. You've got better things to do.." I eventually argue, still not looking at him.
He doesn't reply, still kneeling and silent. What is he trying to achieve..?!
"Captain.. I said, GO!"
Silence, just the sound of his breathing..
I break. I look at him, he is already staring back at me. Why are his eyes slightly red..?
He still doesn't say anything.
"What do you want..?!?" I choke out, tears still pouring from my eyes.
"Get up.. stop kneeling.. speak.. SAY SOMETHING" God, I'm desperate.. I don't know why I'm reacting like this..
He gently reaches out, slow enough that if I truly wanted to, I could have moved, hell - I could have slapped his hand away..
He entangles his fingers in mine and squeezes, softly, just once. He guides my hand towards his lips. He kisses every single knuckle, I look away, not deserving of his tender touch.
As soon as I look away, he releases my hand. I furrow my brow. He still hasn't said anything..
He stands and walks towards the door. My eyes widen, anxiety heightening.
"John..." I say in a small voice, as his hand reaches the door handle.
He pauses, but doesn't turn to face me.
"I'm sorry.." I whisper. He still doesn't turn, but he also doesn't turn the handle.
"I - I don't know how to.. how to do any of this.." I finally admit. His shoulders relax, dropping slightly, yet he still doesn't speak..
"I'm broken, John.. you.. your pack.. it's better without me..."
He lowers his head, I can see that he is shaking it. His hand pulls away from the door handle, dropping back to his side. He takes a half-step back into the room, still facing away from me.
*John's POV*
I couldn't speak. I couldn't find the right words. One wrong move and she'll leave. She thinks so lowly of herself. She doesn't think she is worthy of anything but pain and sadness.
I can't let her go.
I clear my throat and turn to face her, almost unable to continue when I see that broken look on her face, staring right back up at me.
*Laika's POV*
He clears his throat and turns around. This is it, he is saying goodbye.. brace yourself, don't let him see you cry..
"My pack would tear heaven and earth apart to find you if you left us now.."
What?!
"My pack.. they want you.. emotional baggage and all.. we've all got some.."
I gulp
"and my pack - it could be your pack too - if you can stop punishing yourself for things you had no power over."
"We both know it isn't your fault. And I'll kill the bastards. You just say the word. I'm at your command.."
"Love" he tacks on to the end.
I have nothing to say.. I'm stunned.
"What if I mess it up..?" I whisper
"You won't.."
"But what if I do..?"
"We'd figure it out.."
"Why me..?"
"You may not see it, Love.. but you're perfect for us.. if you'd let us prove it to you. I'll tell the boys.. we will take things slow.. court you properly.. let us at least try..?"
"John..?"
"Yes, sweet girl.." he replies instantly, kneeling back to the ground, taking both of my hands in his..
"I'm scared.. I'm scared I'll mess up.."
He cups my chin softly.
"Beautiful girl, there is nothing you could do.. nothing.. that would change my mind on this.."
My eyes trail from his eyes, to his facial hair, to the freckles on his nose and then down to his lips.
"John..?"
"Yes, Love..?"
"I-I'll try.. I want to try.." I sniff.
He breaks into a soft smile, his dimples showing. He wipes the tear lines from my cheeks with his thumb.
I stand on the balls of my feet to kiss him on the cheek. I wobble slightly and end up kissing the very corner of his lips. He purrs, but doesn't push for more.
"C'mon, I want to take you back.. never liked Doctor's offices anyway.." he grumbles lowly.
He reaches and grabs my hand, squeezing it softly once, giving it a quick kiss on my knuckles again.
He turns the door handle and leads me through the waiting area.
He nods a quick 'thanks' to the Doctor.
As soon as he steps foot into the main hallway, I'm greeted by a pacing Johnny and Simon, who looks.. anxious.
He immediately steps forward and holds my face firmly in his large hands, crouching down so that we are eye to eye.
"Are you hurt? What happened? Who do I need to fuckin' kill?"
"Calm down, Simon".. John reaches over my shoulder to squeeze Simon's arm.
"We're all okay now.. That's all that matters.."
Johnny squirms his way behind me and lifts me into his arms, carrying me like a groom would carry a bride.
"Johnny!" I yelp.
"No princess of mine walks when she is hurt! Whit happened, lass. Si will sort the fucker out.."
"N-nothing happened!" I giggle.
I notice, from the corner, how John and Simon both relax at the sound of my laughter.
"Wh-where's Kyle..?" I ask, guiltily.. that same feeling of dread washing over me.. what if he hadn't wanted it.. what if he regrets it..?
As soon as the words have left my mouth, a frantic figure skids around the corner, wearing just loose sweatpants slung lowly over his hips.
"JESUS FUCK, LOVE!!" He pants, actually clutching his chest, where his heart beats rapidly.
He rushes towards me and pulls me from Johnny's hold and into his own, tight and suffocating arms. It was oddly grounding. Until I felt his hands shaking, and his panicked breathing...
"When I woke up.. and you weren't there.. I looked everywhere. FUCK!" he weeps into my neck, rubbing my lower back gently, more for his own benefit than mine, I assume..
"Thought you'd gone.." He glances up then, and notices that we are outside the infirmary. He freezes and drops his arms immediately.
"Shit.. fuck.. tell me I didn't hurt you..? Please tell me I didn't..." He looks completely lost in his own panic.
I step towards him, with tears in my own eyes..
"Kyle.. Kyle.. Alpha..?" He backs away from me.
I scurry forward and cling to him, trying to hug the anxiety from him.
"Alpha.. you didn't hurt me.. I promise.."
"You sure..?"
"I'm sure, Kyle.. not at all.." I reach up and kiss his cheek. He looks me up and down, making sure that I am telling the truth.
"Why'd you run off..? You weren't there when I woke up..." I gulp
"I- I was running away from rejection.. didn't want you to regret it.. so I - I ran.."
"Why would you think..-" he starts with a furrowed brow, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Oh, you silly girl.. come here.. I'd never regret even one second spent with you.." he whispers into my hair as he hugs me tightly.
He pulls away from the hug and looks around at his pack..
"Dinner..?" John suggests.
The Alphas all nod, and I feel a gloved hand take mine and drag me back towards their private quarter. I turn my head back to the others and stumble after the hand that is pulling me. It's Simon.
"Gave us all a hell of a fright there , little bird" he grunts..
"Sorry.."
"I don't want your apologies, love. Just need you to stay, yeah..?"
"Yeah, Simon. I'll try staying this time. no more running away.." I whisper
"No more running away.." he repeats, softly.
I feel the softest squeeze on my hand.
I squeeze back.
A silent promise to each other.
We are both ... damaged.
But Christ, we'd try...
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mvltisstuff · 11 months
Note
hi omg thought of this while rewatching s2 ep3 with the earthquake but okay so there’s the little montage of everyone being happy and eddie running to christopher - but what if there’s something similar for buck? instead of him being with abby he’s dating reader and reader has a lowkey job (maybe librarian at an elementary school?) so when he gets home the first thing he does is yell for reader and then holds them and they both shed a few happy tears just talking about how happy they are that the other is okay.
you’re honestly the bestest and i am saying this in advance that this is gonna be fabulous, as always. PLEASE AND THANK YOU!! <333
something in the orange - e.b
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summary: request
evan buckley x reader
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a/n: the end of this ask was literally so sweet, i appreciate this so so much and i’m so happy you enjoy my works, that’s why i do them <33
buck was so sick and tired of watching everyone else have someone to run to. he hated having to see everyone in each others arms, watching a warm embrace ensue in front of him, just wanting it to be him instead. it was years on end of him watching kids with their parents, husbands with their wives, friends with their own friends. he always had the quick breakfast with a lay in bed, but he never had the long run of love that was supposed to come with it.
he thought his parents would be able to supply that love for him, but he must’ve been mistaken. they had no issue jumping out on every little thing in his life, nonetheless missing out on it. there was only so much love maddie could give, and he needed every drop of it. he thought maybe, someone mature like abby would come with the cherishing attitude to stay, but it left as fast as she did.
the earthquake had given a huge jumble to bucks brain, being able to save a bunch of people, but just wanted to go home at the same time. it felt selfish, and he hated himself for it, but how could he wish for anything else but just to be with y/n at home? he’s seen calamity and chaos the entire day, a constant strain of it into his shift. he’s seen death, broken bones, sobs, blood, anything that one doesn’t want to see. it took incredible pursuing to make bobby let buck take a break, but he could see he needed it.
he held his phone shakily in his hand, squinting over y/n’s name on the screen being darkened by the sunlight. he was nervous to even press the call button, not knowing if she’d be the one to pick it up, or an emergency responder who had her phone.
“hi, baby,” her sweet voice rang through the phone, leading him to sigh out and he couldn’t contain the light smile that formed on his lips. “are you ok?”
“i’m fine, i just wanted to hear your voice, make sure you’re ok.”
“we’re alright over here, there’s still kids here that need to get picked up, but they’re going pretty well with the evacuations.”
“i’m sorry i didn’t get over there, i got sent in the opposite direction.” y/n was working at the school on the other side of the city. buck was, of course, sent to work on the east side. he wanted to be able to save her, even if she wasn’t in trouble. he wanted to touch her so he knew she was breathing and alright, but he’d have to wait.
“don’t apologize, you’re doing amazing, buck,” she reassures him, letting his mind relax for a moment as she speaks to him. “go do your job, i’ll see you tonight, i promise.”
“i just want to see you.”
“i know, but you can in a few hours. do it for me, ok?”
“i love you, so much.”
“i love you, too, buck.”
the moment his fingers connected with the cold metal of the door, he instantly twisted it open to reveal the dim, yellowish lighting in his home. he felt like the introduction to his apartment felt like the ground stopped shaking. he was so excited to be able to rest, lay in his bed with y/n in his arms.
the thick soles of his shoes thumped against the ground as he threw his bags onto the floor. his shoulders instantly slumped and his feet automatically led to the stairs.
“hey,” y/n spoke, drying her hair with a towel to the side as it rested on her shoulder.
“hi.” he replied, slowly blinking his eyes.
“baby, you’re exhausted.” y/n steps forward down a few steps, standing a few inches taller than buck for once. her hands run over his shoulder blades, wandering over his skin and magically lifting the tension and stress from the earthquake.
“i know,” he says. “i just wanted you so bad today. there wasn’t a minute where you weren’t on my mind.”
“i’m here for good, buck. i’m not going anywhere, and i want you to get some rest.” she grabs his hand, pulling him up the steps and leading him to sit on the bed. he strips down to his boxers, leaving him shirtless as he puts on a warm hoodie that y/n handed him. he stops by the bathroom, washing his face as y/n prepares the bed for the two of them.
“i got you ice water, i left it on the nightstand.” y/n smiles softly up at him as he walks back in. “i turned the AC up, since you like it cold and i turned on the mattress heater.”
“you treat me too well, honey.”
“you did amazing work today, you deserve the treatment of a saint. come lay with me, please?”
“don’t have to ask twice.”
he crawls back into the bed as y/n dims the lights and turns their TV on. the white lights brighten their faces as he leans into her chest. his cheek rests right against the middle of her breasts, over her heart.
her arm is wrapped warmly around under his arm, the other hand rubbing his short hair. one of his legs lay between hers, his hands running against her sides. he breathes softly matching the rhythm of her, letting the noises of her gentle words and quiet noises from the TV lull him to sleep, allowing his deserving body to rest against the person he calls home.
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flokali · 2 years
Note
this new update got me thinkin and now i’m SAD.
i imagine scara gets pretty needy after his whole meltdown. in his mind, this only proves he truly isn’t worthy of godhood. no matter what, he will always be less-than. he talks so much about how lowly everyone else is during his godhood ascension because he’s projecting. he feels worthless, he feels unworthy, he feels afraid. ei was right to abandon him.
so being chosen as your consort… doesn’t sit right with him at all. he immediately assumes you also want to control him or use him for your own gain, but he’s also in no position to tell you no. he’s not even worthy of your presence.
he knows the kind of things that are expected of him, so he rushes through it a little. he’s very careful not to show he’s shifted since that battle, afraid he’ll irritate you if he’s too open with his feelings. he initially didn’t want to accept your offer, but now that he’s here, the idea of being abandoned again makes him feel sick. he’s very quick to jump in bed with you. he thinks he needs to convince you to keep him around.
he’s very careful with his words. not once do you question his whole self-righteous facade has slipped. not for several months until you’re laying with him in bed, cooing sweet aftercare in his ear. you were particularly rough with him tonight, so you loved on him a bit more afterward.
his mask started to crack. you noticed the tears clinging to his eyelashes and asked him if everything’s okay. he huffed out a sad laugh.
“after all the pain i’ve endured… in the end, i’ve only changed hands. gone from one god’s puppet to another’s sex doll,” he whispered. “do i at least fill this role properly?”
basically, scaramouche resigns himself to his inferiority after his failure. now all he can do (from his perspective) is try to convince you not to abandon him too.
God fucking damn it this is plaguing my mind… take this and my first born child, nonnon ;; this ask literally got me out of writer��s block this is insane — (shameful kofi plug here)
Warnings: implied sex, scara is going through it, soft yandere, hurt/kind of comfort, you’re both implied to be naked, etc. Ask to tag.
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You’d originally had only assigned him as a consort in title, your plan had been to have him as a companion – the sex that would come alongside it was a thought you’d pushed partially to the side. You’d been aware of Scaramouche’s struggles in the past, but he’d always been someone you’d found yourself drawn to comfort and you’d hoped to help him by having a new role for him, one no one else would have.
Kunikuzushi, however, upon hearing your request has but a crisis, a case so severe of panic and doubt invading his mind he can’t help but shut down entirely.
“A consort…” His porcelain hands find their way to his silky hair as he helplessly tugs at the dark strands. He would be your consort, of course a part of him was ecstatic to know you’d picked him and yet, he couldn’t help but ask, why him? All of the feelings he’d thought he’d worked out come rushing back, he was a failure and an embarrassment; nothing about him was worthy of your time and affection and yet you’d still personally picked him amongst everyone else.
You’d chosen him and he couldn’t have you abandon him, he couldn’t have you realize how utterly worthless he truly was and even if it meant minimizing himself to a doll for your pleasure and using his looks against you he’d rather you use him as you wished than have you toss him aside.
Maybe that’s why he was so eager to bed you upon the first couple of days within his role as your consort, so truly desperate to try and show you he was going to be the best fuck of your life so you would do anything but abandon him.
It’s why, upon hearing his words, you can’t help but feel the need to puke almost immediately, the food from a mere hours ago wanting to escape into the open once more as you registered Kunikuzushi’s words, you reflectively cover your mouth at the sick feeling in your stomach as you shoot up from the bed.
What you had previously thought to have been a fun time suddenly felt tainted as you desperately tried to find the words to say.
“Kuzushi…” Your voice was but a whisper in the suddenly cold room, “is that… is that what you see this as?”
Is that the image you have of us? You wanted to ask, but your words failed you. Is that how he saw you – no, is this how he saw himself?
You instinctively want to reach out to him but the wide eyed look he shoots you makes you recoil back into yourself, his purple pupils are blown wide as he stares back at you, seemingly realizing what he’d said.
“Is this not what it is?” The former Harbinger asks, “Sex… that’s what you want from me, right? It’s why you keep coming back, right?”
“Of course not!” You defend yourself, your eyebrows furrowing as you try to rationalize what you were hearing.
“If it’s not that then why?,” he narrows his teary eyes, “Why would you need me? I’m… what good am I?”
“Kunikuzushi,” you mutter his name, “this was never just about us sleeping together!”
“You say that but fail to answer me what it is then!” He screams, his voice rings in your ears as you stare at him in bewilderment, “Don’t… don’t try to comfort me by saying such things, I… I don’t mind if you only see me for sex…”
“But you do mind.” You insist.
“And what makes you think that?” He laughs, the action completely out of touch with the tears streaming down his face.
“Then why are you crying?”
“I-I’m not.” He says but as he raises a hand to his face he feels the dampness in his cheeks.
“Kuni, I… let’s not continue this,” you sigh, “I don’t want you –“
“No!” He lunges towards you, sending you tumbling into the bed with him now laying on top of you, shaky hands reaching towards your neck as he speaks, Kunikuzushi’s voice trembling as his hands helplessly tighten against your throat, “D-don’t you dare, no… you’re not leaving me, not again… yes, yes. Let’s do it again, come on, I’ll– I’ll show you, hah… I’ll show you, you can’t get rid of me… I’ll be your sex doll again, so please…”
“I… you were never a sex doll,” you say, reaching out to caress his hair, his tears hitting your own cheeks, “why… Why do you think that? Kuni… ghk”
“Then why,” his grip on you starts making you dizzy, “why are you here?”
“B-because… I like you.” You smile, your hands still caressing his hair with fondness.
“Why…? Why?” It’s a mere whisper that could’ve been lost if you’d been anyone else.
“I don’t know,” you lie, you weren’t about to open new wounds – not as the hands that once dripped your throat began loosening –, “but it’s not because of your looks or… sex.”
His breath hitches as he searches your eyes for signs of lies, for a sign your words were nothing but a desperate attempt to get him to calm down, but he couldn’t; all he saw in your eyes was sadness and adoration, both awfully misplaced he wants to proclaim but the cavity where his heart was supposed to beat finds itself tightening as his body gives out.
Soft whimpers are heard as he grasps your shoulders in a search for much needed comfort. You let him; you let him search for comfort in your embrace, you let the tears stain your bed, and, perhaps most importantly, you let him stay by your side.
An unspoken promise you won’t let him go.
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