#and I have to step back and process these things on my own because it's unfair to others
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
cometconmain · 3 days ago
Text
Personally, when I created the writeup I have on my blog giving a brief rundown of my blog in the description it was less of a "don't interact because I don't know how/refuse to use a block button" in the sense described here and more intended as what I originally thought a DNI was supposed to be:
"I don't tolerate actual bigoted behaviour so don't waste your time coming in here thinking we'll be friends only to spring some bigoted bullcrap on me later thinking that was a normal thing to believe/say/do. Don't waste your time and don't waste mine. Here's where I stand on these real life actual problem things so you can just bail if you're not ready to accept that. If you can't critically consume fictional media and don't have anything substantial to say in your critical consumption, I don't have time for you so save your breath and mine and go back to your purity cult. Also if you're under 18 this blog is not for you. I am an adult and don't wish to have minors running around pretending like we're all chill with having kids on a blog with adult-only content actually when I don't kmow you exist or haven't been told in some way that you shouldn't be here despite how clear I've made it that this is an adult-only space. Leave.
And if I find out you're any of these types of people I WILL be curating my internet experience by blocking you."
You know? There are different ways to use DNIs that aren't "fuck you no you put all the effort in to not expose me to you" and are instead intended more like "Hey look interact if you want but I'm warning you that you're wasting your time long term if you think you can be shitty to real life people right in front of my salad, so to save us both the hassle I'm leaving it up to you specifically because I have no idea you exist and can't block you until I do so feel free to take that first step since you know we won't gel and you know I exist while I have not yet had the displeasure."
That said, people definitely shouldn't put real life issues next to fandom preferences and gripes. It defangs serious real world issues by trying to take the fangs off them and slap them directly onto the fictional things to lend credence to them because the person doing it doesn't know how to express their discomfort well enough to feel heard about it/expect people to dismiss anything they say out of hand so they grab whatever closest thing from real world issues already considered serious which could kind of fit if you do a handstand and squint through a cloud of steam. Which has the opposite effect, because now people are (rightfully) angry at them for trivialising real world issues to make people treat their perspective on fictional media seriously.
If you know how to criticise media and/or make sure you know the difference between actually potentially harmful handling of a theme within fictional media vs something made you uncomfortable and you want to express it and feel heard as part of processing it but don't know how, then you probably won't feel as strong of - if any - need to play up what you have a problem with. Because a) you know how to express your position to get people to listen to you, b) don't need strangers on the internet to validate you to know you're right because you're versed in identifying and talking about how to fix this problem in media causing potential harm to a marginalised group or otherwise teaching potentially harmful perspectives and here's why... and c) you know when something is just bothering you personally and probably have some healthier copes for it, like ranting into the void on your own post without using any main fandom tags and/or ranting to your friends and/or writing fix-it fic and or- you get the gist.
The day we start doing more of that is the day this whole 'anti-shipper' and responding 'pro-shipper' thing will probably calm down a little bit.
i don't respect DNIs not in the sense i go out of my way to break them but in the sense that i don't respect DNIs as a concept and consider them to be something of a red flag in general.
i'm not sure how to explain it but it's the combination of usually putting very serious issues on the same level as fandom stuff, the fact that half the time people don't even know what they're against beyond 'the bad stuff' therefore even further watering these issues down, and the idea that other people are expected to manage your online existence for you.
there's a passiveness to it that i think is actually a problem and it does not surprise me in the slightest that people with DNIs tend to view what media they consume as activism. do you get what i'm saying.
8K notes · View notes
jungwnies · 2 days ago
Text
wrong time, right person - carlos sainz (1/4)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
୨ৎ : pairing : carlos sainz x fem!reader ୨ৎ : synopsis : years after a bitter breakup, you and carlos sainz reunite unexpectedly. old wounds resurface, but so does undeniable love. will history repeat itself?
୨ৎ : genre : romance, angst, humor, drama ୨ৎ : tws : mild language, arguing, friendships ending, bantering, suggestive humor, mentions of alcohol consumption. ୨ৎ : wc : 952
part one | part two | part three | part four
Tumblr media
Spain was never supposed to feel like home.
You were just an exchange student, a stranger in a country where the language tripped you up, where conversations flowed around you like a current you couldn’t quite swim in. The other students were nice, polite even, but distant. They smiled, but no one really saw you.
Except for him.
Carlos Sainz wasn’t just friendly; he was relentless. He talked to you like it was the most natural thing in the world, like he had made it his personal mission to make you feel at home. The first time he sat next to you at lunch, he didn’t ask the usual "Where are you from?" or "How do you like Spain?" Instead, he stole a fry from your plate and smirked.
“You always eat this little?”
It took you a second to process what he said, your brain scrambling for the right words. When you did, you narrowed your eyes and stole a fry right back.
“Mind your business.”
He laughed, loud, unapologetic. And just like that, best friends.
He made Spain feel like home. He dragged you to local karting tracks, shoved a helmet on your head, and laughed until he was breathless as you struggled to drive at half his speed. You sat on the asphalt after his races, drinking cheap sodas and listening to him talk about his dreams; Formula 1, podiums, championships. You still remember the way his eyes lit up when he talked about his father, the legendary Carlos Sainz Sr., how he wanted to make him proud.
“You think I can do it?” he asked once, voice quieter than usual.
You scoffed, nudging his shoulder. “I think you’re already doing it.”
And you were right.
He climbed the ranks, and you were right there beside him, just like he was there for you. Modeling started small, with local gigs, small shoots. but soon after, your face was showing up in magazines, whispered about in the industry. The first time you booked an international job, Carlos picked you up and spun you around like it was his victory too.
“You’re gonna be famous,” he said, grinning. “I’m gonna see your face on billboards, aren’t I?”
It was fun, easy, and natural, until it wasn’t.
The higher he climbed, the further away he felt. The more you succeeded, the less you seemed to talk. At first, it didn’t feel like a big deal. You still sent texts, still FaceTimed when you could. But slowly, the missed calls turned into silence, and suddenly, you were watching each other’s successes through headlines instead of in person.
Then, he made it to Formula 1.
And you? You were stepping into high-fashion modeling.
The night it all fell apart wasn’t supposed to be anything special. Just another call that went unanswered. Just another missed "good luck" before a race. But this time, Carlos called back, and he called back angry.
“You don’t even care anymore.” His voice was sharp, cutting straight through your exhaustion.
You blinked, phone pressed to your ear, the weight of his words settling deep into your chest. “What?”
“You heard me,” he snapped. “You missed my race. Again.”
Your stomach twisted. “Carlos, I had a show. You knew that.”
“Right, right,” he said bitterly. “Another shoot, another runway, another excuse. Siempre tienes una razón, ¿verdad?” (You always have a reason, right?)
Heat flared in your cheeks. “Excuse me? Don’t you dare act like you’re the only one with a career! I support you, Carlos, but I have my own dreams too.”
He laughed, but it wasn’t the kind that made your heart feel light, it was sharp, hollow, cold. “Support? ¿Eso es lo que llamas esto?” (Is that what you call this?) “Because it feels a lot like you just don’t give a damn anymore.”
Anger burned hot in your chest. “That’s not fair.”
“No?” His voice dropped, quieter, but somehow even more dangerous. “Entonces dime, when was the last time you actually showed up for me? When was the last time you watched me race, not through a screen, but actually there?”
You opened your mouth, then closed it. Because the answer was obvious. And it wasn’t one you wanted to say out loud.
Carlos exhaled sharply, like he had been hoping, hell, borderline begging, for you to fight him on it. But you couldn’t.
He scoffed. “Eso pensé.” (That’s what I thought.)
Tears burned behind your eyes. “This isn’t fair, Carlos. You’re always traveling, I’m always traveling! What the hell do you expect me to do?”
“I expected you to care.” His voice cracked. Just slightly. But it was enough to break you.
Your breath hitched. “You think I don’t?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted, and that hurt worse than anything else.
Because Carlos always knew. He always understood you, always read between the lines, always saw you even when you felt invisible to everyone else. But now? Now he wasn’t even sure.
The silence stretched between you like an open wound.
And then he said it.
“Quizás sea más fácil así.” (Maybe it’s just easier this way.)
It felt like the wind had been knocked out of you. “What?”
His voice was flat, emotionless. Like he had already given up. “Maybe we’ve just been holding on to something that doesn’t exist anymore.”
You felt something inside you shatter.
Carlos had been your best friend. Your person. Your safe place. But now he was just...just nothing.
“I don’t have time for this.” Your voice was quiet, raw, aching. “I have an early flight.”
He let out a bitter laugh. “Por supuesto que sí.” (Of course you do.)
Neither of you apologized.
Neither of you fought for it.
Neither of you said goodbye.
Carlos left for another race. You left for another shoot.
Neither of you looked back.
Until you were given no choice...
Tumblr media
© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.
206 notes · View notes
swiftiethatlovesf1 · 1 day ago
Text
Unspoken Melody p.9
Hi guys, here's a new part of the story, if you've missed part 8 here it is :) If you want to read more of my stories, here's my masterlist.
Two drivers, one unforgettable concert, and a chance encounter with a pop sensation that leaves Oscar questioning everything he thought about music—and maybe even himself.
Tumblr media
A few months had passed, and life had taken on a rhythm that felt entirely your own. Your album was finally finished—a collection of songs that weren’t just about heartbreak, but about rediscovering yourself. Writing it had been more than cathartic; it had been a revelation. Somewhere in the process, you’d unearthed pieces of yourself that had been buried beneath the weight of your relationship with Mark.
You had become you again.
And with that, life had opened up in ways you hadn’t expected. Nights out with friends, spontaneous trips, and even a few race weekends spent in the paddock. You’d like to say it was because of Lando’s relentless insistence—because, of course, he had been loud and borderline obnoxious about making sure you came—but the truth was, Oscar had been the reason you kept going back.
Oscar had been steady. Supportive. A quiet presence when you needed one, a voice of reason when you doubted yourself, and a source of laughter when you thought you’d forgotten how to enjoy things. He had given you something you hadn’t even realized you needed—peace. And somewhere along the way, your friendship had grown into something more. Not in the sense that there were declarations or crossed lines, but there was an undeniable warmth between you, a comfort that settled in your chest every time you were near him.
And now, here you were in Monaco, attending a tennis match because your manager had insisted that a public appearance would be good for promotion. It was a beautiful day, with the sun glinting off the pristine courts, and as you settled into your seat, it was hardly a surprise to see a few familiar faces in the crowd.
You waved at Lando, Charles, Pierre, and Oscar, who were on the other side of the court. A warm smile stretched across your face as they returned your greeting, and then you turned back to your manager, who was diligently explaining your media duties. 
You hadn’t been expecting it, but then again, in Monaco, nothing ever really was a surprise.
Oscar had noticed you before you had seen him. In fact, he wasn’t sure how anyone couldn’t notice you.
You stood out effortlessly, even in a crowd filled with celebrities and elite athletes. It wasn’t just the way the sun seemed to catch on the soft waves of your hair or how your white flowy dress swayed delicately with each step you took. It was the way you carried yourself—graceful but natural, like you weren’t trying to be seen, yet everyone’s eyes found you anyway.
And, of course, Oscar’s did too.
He should have looked away before anyone noticed, but the moment stretched too long, his gaze lingering on the way you laughed at something your manager had said. You looked… happy. And that was enough to make warmth spread through his chest.
Unfortunately, Lando definitely noticed.
“Oh, mate,” Lando grinned, nudging Oscar’s arm. “That was some serious staring.”
“I wasn’t—”
“Yes, you were,” Pierre cut in with a smirk. “You looked like you were about to start reciting poetry or something.”
Charles chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “She does look beautiful today.”
Oscar shot him a glare, which only made Lando’s smirk grow. “Relax, mate. No one’s trying to steal your girl.”
“She’s not—” Oscar started, but the words died in his throat when, as if on cue, you finally noticed them.
You looked up, eyes scanning the stands, and then landed right on him. A radiant smile spread across your lips, and without hesitation, you lifted your hand in a wave.
Oscar barely had time to react before Lando dramatically waved back like an overexcited child. “She smiled at you, Oscar! Did you see that? She smiled at you!”
Pierre snickered. “And look—he’s blushing.”
Oscar scoffed, willing the warmth creeping up his neck to disappear. “I’m not blushing.”
“You totally are,” Charles said, sipping his drink casually. “You’ve got it bad.”
Oscar rolled his eyes, forcing himself to focus on the court. “Can we not do this right now?”
Lando, of course, ignored him. “You know, it’s painfully obvious there’s something going on between you two.”
“There isn’t,” Oscar muttered.
Pierre raised an eyebrow. “Right. Because most guys offer to be emotional support, drive girls home, order them breakfast, and stay up eating pizza with them just out of pure friendship.”
Oscar sighed. He should have known they wouldn’t let this go.
“I just wanted to be there for her,” he said finally. “She was going through something awful, and I didn’t want her to feel alone.”
“That’s exactly what someone who’s in love with her would do,” Lando pointed out smugly.
Oscar turned to give him a pointed look. “She just got out of a relationship. A really bad one. I’m not going to be the guy who swoops in when she’s still healing.”
For the first time, Lando’s teasing expression softened. “Yeah, I get that.”
Pierre nodded. “You don’t want her to think you’re just some rebound.”
“It’s not just that,” Oscar admitted, running a hand through his hair. “I just… want her to be happy. No pressure, no expectations. Just her figuring out what she wants.”
Charles leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “And what if what she wants is you?”
Oscar hesitated for just a second.
Then, you turned back toward the court, laughing at something your manager said, your eyes crinkling in a way that made his chest tighten.
He swallowed. “Then I guess I’ll just have to wait and see.”
@justaf1girl
18 notes · View notes
stereax · 7 months ago
Note
saw you post 'listen before you go', thought you'd enjoy this:
oh...
#sterechats :)#going through It. and by It let's just say. the worst loss of my life lol#but I don't think anyone wants to hear how I ruined it again#and how badly I miss them#and if they'd give me one more chance I'd be the happiest person in the world#they put up with so much shit I should never have put them through#I can't blame them for leaving I just wish I could show them how much they mean to me#that behind all of my masks and my anger I cared about them more than anything#and I'm just so damn scared of being vulnerable because I've learned vulnerability is weakness#and even though that's wrong and I know it is it's less vulnerable to close myself off and respond with rage#than it is to actually confront my own emotions and realize that I'm not a robot#that I have feelings and they're usually really big and overwhelming for me#and I have to step back and process these things on my own because it's unfair to others#because I can't keep treating my friends like they're responsible for my emotions and at fault for them#because I need to actually communicate my needs instead of assuming people know them#because these same patterns are why I keep losing friends over and over again#and if I don't fix them I'm never going to be able to maintain a friendship#god. if they're ever going to read this I hope they know how much they mean to me#and how deeply and truly sorry I am for everything I've done#and how I never want to hurt them ever again#and I'm crying again. it feels like all I'm ever doing recently is crying#you know that saying 'you don't realize what you have until it's gone'? yeah.#for all the shit I talked I'd do anything to hear them tell me about their f1 drivers again#I miss them so much it's killing me it feels like#I just. I don't think they're coming back#no matter how much I tell myself they just need a few weeks or months#I think I really fucked it up this time and I don't want to admit it to myself#because I don't think I can mentally accept that they're gone forever most likely#I just want to hope that they'll give me that one last chance and I can prove myself#I just want to talk to them again and it hurts so much
3 notes · View notes
mako-island-moon-pool · 2 years ago
Text
You want to know how bad my memory is?
I was writing last night and I just straight up forgot that Sanji exists. I have been watching this show since 2012, he was my fave Strawhat outside of Luffy pre-TS, and I FORGOT HE EXISTED.
I was like 'hm yes well the ones who would understand are Nami and Robin... W- wasn't there one more I was thinking of a moment ago? Wasn't there another one who'd Get It?????'
'it's not Chopper. Definitely not Usopp. And it's not Zoro. That's all the remaining Strawhats at this point in the story. So... Why am I convinced I'm forgetting someone? Let's go through the arcs in my head agai- OH MY GOD, I FORGOT SANJI'
Tumblr media
#When I tell you my memory is shit... 😭 I used to own a Sanji shirt. What the fuck??#When that post about the memory issues finally leaves my queue#Like I joke about it but this shit can be genuinely terrifying. Like knowing my brain is getting worse. Knowing I'm probably forgetting#Seriously important things and just 'oops I can't remember haha'#It's scary.#I'll never get better because I'll just relive the pain over and over because my brain refuses to remember the help and progress I make#Every day I wake up back at step 1 it's so depressing and scary and horrifying and I hate it#I can never process anything bc I just forget and if I do remember it's like a punch to the chest for the first time every time#And people get SO sick of you after a while. Constantly asking for help. Never remembering anything. They get so annoyed with you.#Anyway. On a lighter note (not actually) I'm trying out a new one-shot :)#Not to speak ill of the 'soon-to-be' dead but Garp was a shit grandfather#So I was like What If Me And Luffy Had The Same Reaction#Because self love starts in recognizing your self through the other god damn it#Even if I finish this idk if I'll post it bc of how personal it is but it has been very cathartic to write#Then again I could just publish it anonymously so my irl friends won't see it. No harm no foul.#I (kid) once pushed my mom (grown adult) out of my room when she caused me to have a meltdown so I could 100% see Luffy doing the same thin#In my defense she had a habit of taunting me and destroying my stuff to punish me after inciting meltdowns and I just wanted to be alone#I was like 7 years old at the time (hell year hell year) so I doubt I actually hurt her. She just looked surprised. I remember that.#Sometimes I wonder why I identify so much with werewolves and then I remember ah yes. The childhood of being treated like a monster.#Like a freak because when people kept pushing your boundaries you'd rather bite than let them do whatever they want to you#Oh boo hoo such a terrible thing for a child to be... Protective of themselves...#ANYWAY. like I said this wasn't going to be much lighter.#I want Luffy to punch the lights out of Garp to protect his friends. Not even in-canon just in this fic#Ik in-canon Garp is a complex guy and loads of fans love him but... Smash eggs make sandwiches know what I'm saying?#Yeah GROOVY
7 notes · View notes
pepprs · 2 years ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
#to translate this post: someone liked this post i made (on the upper left) on AUGUST 28 having a moment of self awareness that i was running#away from my whole life and not moving or learni ng to drive or anything. it is now march 8. it has been almost 7 months. and i have made#basically zero progress. and there is nothing stopping me but me. i could read the drivers manual and whatever whenever i want. but i am not#doing anything. and i don’t know how to get myself to start.#purrs#i know it’s a cop out excuse but i truly do think it’s covid. i think being in lockdown for a year and a half made me just let go of any#sense of progress. made me scared to take steps forward. and i mean i did bc i lived on campus for a while after that but it’s like.. EVERY#part of my life is stagnant rn it seems. and it’s not just me it’s my siblings too. we’re all getting older but none of us is trying to move#out or gain our independence in any way and my brother isn’t even looking for jobs even though he needs one. we’re all just getting older#but we’ve lost (or maybe had knocked out of us by covid and our mom being so strict) any sense of moving ipward and spreading our wings.#forgotten we have wings at all. and ive done important things like going on a house tour or traveling with my besties (<3). but i have only#made it to page 8 of the drivers manual and i truly do not want to read the rest of it. i have only been on one house tour and im longing to#move out but how much am i really because i can’t bring myself to schedule another tour and start searching for a new home in earnest.#i just come home every day UTTERLY exhausted and spend all my free time trying to process or rest. and im not making room for myself to use#my wings. and it’s truly terrible. why are we all okay with living like this. my younger self would be HORRIFIED if she saw how much i had a#atrophied since graduating and moving back home. my brighton self would be HORRIFIED. i told myself i wouldn’t and then it’s exactly what i#did. and ik im being harsh and ive spread my wings in some important ways during this time but… these are so obvious. such low hanging#fruit in some ways. bc any 16 year old can take this test and pass it so why can’t i at 24? why won’t i let myself? dont i want a nice cozy#home i make my own where i can eat what i want and sleep when i want and have control over sounds? then why am i not running for it?#delete later#i am wasting my youth i am wasting my youth i am wasting my youth 🤑🤑🤑🤑🤑🤑🤑 my one precious life 😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃#also LMFAOOOOO the next tag on that aug 28 post was that i need to get a new campus id card… guess who hasn’t done that either ♥️
11 notes · View notes
beemovieerotica · 8 months ago
Text
struggling with how to word this, but putting it out there anyway:
i can fully understand the posts on here from a lot of americans being tired of "vote blue no matter who" posts when the #1 thing that people are constantly (and sometimes only?) addressing is how the republican party is going treat trans/queer people if elected.
it's part of an unfortunate pattern of prioritizing the effects on a demographic that includes white + upper class people, when people of color and those in the global south are actively and currently being killed or relegated to circumstances in which their survival is very unlikely
it is genuinely exhausting to witness this, and i was also on the fence about even participating in voting because i a) felt like it didn't matter and b) every time i voiced being frustrated with the current state of the country, white queer people would immediately step in with "but what about trans people!" -> (i am mixed race trans man)
and i say this with unending patience toward people who do this, because i know that it's not something they actively think about. but everyone already knows how the republican party is going to treat queer people. you are probably talking to another queer person when you bring up project 2025. the issue is that, for those of us who aren't white, or for those of us who are but who are conscious of ongoing struggles for people of color worldwide, the safety of people around the world feels more urgent than our own. that is the calculation that's being made.
you're not going to win votes for the democratic party by dismissing or minimizing these realities and by continually centering (white) queer people.
very few people on here and twitter are actually talking about issues beyond queer rights that concern people of color, or how the two administrations differ on these issues instead of constantly circling back to single-issue politics. this isn't an exhaustive list. but these are the issues that have actually altered my perspective and motivated me to the point of committing to casting a vote
the biden administration has been engaged in a years-long fight to allow new applicants to DACA (Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals, the program that allows undocumented individuals who arrived as children to remain in the country) after the Trump administration attempted to terminate it. the program is in limbo currently because of the actions of Trump-backed judges, with those who applied before the ruling being allowed to stay, but no new applications are being processed. Trump has repeatedly toyed with the idea of just deporting the 1.8 million people, but he continues to change his mind depending on whatever the fuck goes on in his head. he cannot be relied on to be sympathetic toward people of hispanic descent or to guarantee that DREAMers will be allowed stay in the country. biden + a democratic controlled congress will allow legal challenges to the DACA moratorium to gain ground.
the biden administration is open to returning and protecting portions of culturally important indigenous land in a way that the trump administration absolutely does not give a fuck. as of may 2024, they have established seven national monuments with plans to expand the San Gabriel Monument where the Gabrielino, Kizh / Tongva, the Chumash, Kitanemuk, Serrano, and Tataviam reside. the Berryessa Snow Mountain is also on the list, as a sacred region to the Patwin.
i'm recognizing that the US's plans for clean energy have often come into conflict with tribal sovereignty, and the biden administration could absolutely do better in navigating this. but the unfortunate dichotomy is that there would be zero commitment or investment in clean energy under a trump-led government, which poses an astounding existential threat and destabilizing force to the global south beyond any human-to-human conflict. climate change has caused and will continue to cause resource shortages, greater natural disasters, and near-lethal living conditions for those in the tropics - and the actions of the highest energy consumers (US) are to blame. biden has funneled billions of dollars into climate change mitigation and clean energy generation - trump does not believe that any of it matters.
i may circle back to this and add more as it comes up, but i'm hoping that those who are skeptical / discouraged / tired of the white queer-centric discourse on tumblr and twitter can at least process some of this. please feel free to add more articles + points but i'm asking for the sake of this post to please focus on issues that affect people of color.
19K notes · View notes
weirdly-specific-but-ok · 9 months ago
Text
for whom good omens is being written
Hey maggots and the rest of the fandom, it's the Good Omens Mascot here. Today I read a post about this tweet:
Tumblr media
The accompanying video genuinely made me cry. And I've been thinking about this for a long while, as far back as February, when I saw a lot of conflicting opinions on what people wanted from the third season. It really is true that no matter what you do, some people will be dissatisfied. But what matters is that Neil is writing this for Terry.
And I was reminded of some paragraphs from the Good Omens TV Companion, which I'd read in Amazon's sample excerpt of the book. I know this is a long post, but I really truly do think you all need to read these, I've done my best to select only the most important parts. Here you go:
'His Alzheimer's started progressing harder and faster than either of us had expected,' says Neil, referring to a period in which Terry recognized that despite everything he could no longer write. 'We had been friends for over thirty years, and during that time he had never asked me for anything. Then, out of the blue, I received an email from him with a special request. It read: “Listen, I know how busy you are. I know you don't have time to do this, but I want you to write the script for Good Omens. You are the only human being on this planet who has the passion, love and understanding for the old girl that I do. You have to do this for me so that I can see it." And I thought, “OK, if you put it like that then I'll do it."
'I had adapted my own work in the past, writing scripts for Death: The High Cost of Living and Sandman, but not a lot else was seen. I'd also written two episodes of Doctor Who, and so I felt like I knew what I was doing. Usually, having written something once I'd rather start something new, but having a very sick co-author saying I had to do this?' Neil spreads his hands as if the answer is clear to see. 'I had to step up to the plate.' A pause, then: 'All this took place in autumn 2014, around the time that the BBC radio adaptation of Good Omens was happening,' he continues, referring to the production scripted and co-directed by Dirk Maggs and starring Peter Serafinowicz and Mark Heap. ‘Terry had talked me into writing the TV adaptation, and I thought OK, I have a few years. Only I didn't have a few years,' he says. 'Terry was unconscious by December and dead by March.'
He pauses again. 'His passing took all of us by surprise,' Neil remembers. 'About a week later, I started writing, and it was very sad. The moments Terry felt closest to me were the moments I would get stuck during the writing process. In the old days, when we wrote the novel, I would send him what I'd done or phone him up. And he would say, "Aahh, the problem, Grasshopper, is in the way you phrase the question," and I would reply, "Just tell me what to do!" which somehow always started a conversation. 'In writing the script, there were times I'd really want to talk to Terry, and also places where I'd figure something out and do something really clever, and I would want to share it with him. So, instead, I would text Terry's former personal assistant, Rob Wilkins, now his representative on Earth. It was the nearest thing I had.'
(...) As Neil himself recognizes, this is an adaptation built upon the confidence that comes from three decades of writing for page and screen. But for all the wisdom of experience, he found that above all one factor guided him throughout the process. 'Terry isn't here, which leaves me as the guardian of the soul of the story,' he explains. 'It's funny because sometimes I found myself defending Terry's bits harder or more passionately than I would defend my own bits. Take Agnes Nutter,' he says, referring to what has become a key scene in the adaptation in which the seventeenth-century author of the book of prophecies foretelling the coming of the Antichrist is burned at the stake. ‘It was a huge, complicated and incredibly expensive shoot, with bonfires built and primed to explode as well as huge crowds in costume. It had to feel just like an English village in the 1640s, and of course everyone asked if there was a cheap way of doing it. 'One suggestion was that we could tell the story using old-fashioned woodcuts and have the narrator take us through what happened, but I just thought, “No”. Because I had brought aspects of the story like Crowley and the baby swap along to the mix, and Terry created Agnes Nutter. So, if I had cut out Agnes then I wouldn't be doing right by the person who gave me this job. Terry would've rolled over in his grave.'
And, finally, this paragraph:
"Once again, Neil cites the absence of his co-writer as his drive to ensure that Good Omens translated to the screen and remained true to the original vision. 'Terry's last request to me was to make this something he would be proud of. And so that has been my job.'"
I think that's so heartwrenchingly beautiful, and so I wanted you all to read this, too, just in case you (like me) don't have the Good Omens TV Companion. It adds another layer of depth and emotion to this already complex and amazing story that we all know and love.
Share this post, if you can, please, so that more people can read these excerpts :")
Tagging @neil-gaiman, @fuckyeahgoodomens and @orpiknight, even if you've definitely read these before :)
15K notes · View notes
sigilslvt · 21 days ago
Text
JEALOUSY • DRABBLE
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
☣︎ Summary: The men all have their reasons for getting jealous around you. But how exactly do they react when they feel the threat is much more real? SURELY, they’re rational, right?
Includes: Gojo, Geto, Toji, Choso, Sukuna, and Nanami
Tags: fem! reader, friends to lovers, exhibitionism, semi-public sex, bathroom sex, unprotected sex, teasing, bulging, pussy eating, choking, breeding, praise, overstim, possessiveness, threatened gun violence, toxic possessiveness, car sex, dry humping, rough sex, squirting, pining, premature ejaculation, love bombing, pregnancy, pregnancy sex, true form sukuna, slight angst
WC: 13.1k
A/N: I cackled writing Choso’s, my poor baby is too precious 😩💜
Tumblr media
༒︎ Gojo Satoru ༒︎
You pull into the gas station because, once again, your car is on its last leg. Satoru’s been absolutely useless this entire car ride, lounging like some kind of overgrown housecat, sunglasses crooked on his nose, humming the most obnoxious song he can think of just to get under your skin. His long legs are kicked up on your dashboard like he’s king of the world.
“Finally, a pit stop,” he says, stretching dramatically. “I was starting to think you’d just run us out of gas for fun. You know, to create a bonding moment.”
“Shut up,” you mutter, putting the car in park. “Stay in the car. Not that I have to tell you that.”
He snickers, not even looking up from whatever weird little game he’s playing on his phone. “Sure thing, sugar. Let me know if you need me to heroically pump the gas for you. I’ll try not to make it look too easy.”
You ignore him because giving him attention only makes it worse. You grab your wallet and step out, the cold air biting at your face as you swipe your card and get ready to fill the tank as quickly as possible so you can return to the cocoon of warmth that is your car. You’re in your own little zone, minding your business, when a voice breaks through the quiet.
“Hey there! Need some help?”
You glance up, startled, and see a guy walking over. He’s got that effortless, small-town-boy charm, the kind of guy who probably calls everyone “ma’am” and knows how to fix a tractor. He’s smiling, too— a little too widely, and before you can even process what’s happening, he’s taking the pump right out of your hands.
“Oh, I had it,” you say, trying to be polite, but this guy is already on a roll.
“Nah, no worries,” he says, grinning. “Someone as pretty as you shouldn’t have to pump their own gas. It’s just not right.”
You blink at him, caught somewhere between confusion and being impressed, because— wow. Is this really happening?
You glance back at your car, hoping Gojo hasn’t noticed, but as soon as your eyes land on his, you know you’re doomed. He’s sitting up now, sunglasses pushed to the top of his head, staring at you both like he’s just been served the juiciest gossip of the year. His grin is growing and you’re sure he’s ready to put on a show.
Before you can stop him, he throws open the car door and steps out like he’s been summoned to the stage. He stretches unnecessarily— arms up, head tilted back, like he’s on the cover of a sports magazine— and then saunters over, hands in his pockets, looking way too pleased with himself.
The gas station guy looks up, noticing Gojo for the first time. His smile falters just a little. “Oh, uh… hey. Didn’t realize you had someone with you.”
Satoru’s already grinning like the cat that got the cream. “Oh, don’t mind me,” he says, waving a hand. “I’m just her boyfriend. You know, the adoring, perfect, doting one who pumps her gas all the time.”
You groan. “Toru—”
“What? I’m just saying, it’s cute that you’re trying to help, bud,” he says, turning back to the guy with a grin so wide it’s almost terrifying. “But this is kind of my thing. I know she’s just the sweetest, but she’s taken.You get it, right? Yeah, you get it.”
The poor guy blinks, clearly unsure if Satoru’s joking or about to start something. “Uh, yeah, no problem,” he mutters, handing the pump back to you like it’s radioactive. “You two have a good day.”
“Oh, we will!” Gojo chirps, giving him a little salute. “And hey, nice try, man. Better luck next time.”
The guy doesn’t even look back. He practically sprints back to the safety of the gas station, and as soon as he’s gone, you turn to Toru, crossing your arms and pursing your lips in annoyance.
“What the hell was that?”
“What was what?” he asks, feigning innocence as he leans casually against the car. “I was just making sure no one stole my job. You know how much I love pumping your gas.”
You gape at him. “You’ve never pumped gas in your life!”
“Exactly,” he says smugly. “That’s what makes this moment so special. It’s a sacred duty.”
You groan, covering your face with your hands. “You’re so insufferable.”
“And yet,” he says, draping an arm around your shoulders, “you love me. Isn’t that wild?”
“Whatever. I’m gonna get a snack. Want something?” you roll your eyes and start walking toward the station.
“I’ll come with, I’m craving something sweet.” he smirks with a look in his eyes that you can’t quite discern.
You raise a brow and walk with him, entering the gas station with the goal to grab a bag of chips and water, but the second you head for them, your hand is being trapped by Satoru’s and he’s tugging you toward the bathroom. You shoot him a look of confusion and annoyance, but he pays it no mind as he yanks you inside, closing the door behind you and pressing you against it.
“Toru, wha—”
“Told you I wanted something sweet, sugar. Bend over a little f’me.” he instructs, turning you so you’re facing the door. Your palms lay flat against it, trying to use it as leverage to turn yourself, but he presses your head to the door, too, his strong palm mushing your cheeks to it, sucking his teeth in disapproval.
“You’re insane, w-we’re in a gas station,” you try to reason with him, but his hand’s already shoved up your skirt and peeling down your panties. “Satoru, seriously…”
“Y’telling me to stop? She’s cryin’ f’me, though, I think she’ll be so sad if I don’t give her what she wants,” he purrs, getting to his knees and littering kisses on the fat of your ass. “C’mere, baby.”
You’re lost to him the moment he stuffs his face into your already dripping cunt, bucking yourself back against him and into the feel of his greedy tongue slipping between your folds and down, down, down to your clit. You can feel him smirking against you when he draws out a long shaky whine from your lips between your panting and while normally his cockiness would annoy you beyond belief, it instead turns you on more. And yet—
“Wh-hah— why couldn’t this wait until we got to the hotel?” you ask, nails scraping down the door when he plunges his tongue into your twitching hole.
He pulls away for a moment, spreading your ass to spit a glob of saliva between your folds and slurp it back up while sucking your clit. No answer. You huff and tremble, unsure of how long you’ll be able to keep yourself standing if he’s just gonna keep eating you like a man starved.
You try, you really do, to keep your voice down, but when his tongue hits that spot inside of your gummy walls, his hand between your thighs and thumb working on your clit, you can’t help but let your moans slip out. And oh, does that make him even more unrelenting. His thumb draws circles on your clit quicker and with more pressure, his tongue fucking into you as rough as can be. 
Your eyelids flutter closed, breathing labored as you feel that sweet sweet build up that you love so much. He knows what comes next and while normally, he’d see you to the end, this time he stops, earning a frown from your pretty face.
“Wh-why’d y—” you start.
“Y’mine, say it.”
“What? Toru, what’s—”
“Say. It. Say y’mine… say y’love me and I’ll make you cum so good, sugar, I promise.” he all but whines.
You don’t know why it needs to be said or what’s going on with him, but you’ll be damned if you let your orgasm escape you. With every second that passes, it runs from you, so you give him what he needs. “I’m yours, baby. I love you.” you coo.
“Again.” he huffs against your cunt, making your knees weak. He’s so close. You’re so close.
“I love y— hah,” your breath escapes you when he delves his tongue back into your pulsing hole. “Fuuuuck… I love you, I love you, I l— fuck!” your cunt tries it’s best to grip his tongue, but he fucks it into you with more force as you cum on it, losing strength in your legs and slumping down while your brain goes dumb with pleasure.
He holds you up, tongue slipping out of you and back to your clit, his head shaking side to side while he licks at your clit, overstimulating you beyond belief. All you can do is cry out for mercy, palms battering at the bathroom door as you raise your white flag.
With that, he frees you from the sweet torture, massaging your thighs and resting back on his ankles. “I’m pumping your gas from now on.” he huffs.
Coming back to your senses, you realize why he pulled this stunt off. “Satoru. Were you… jealous!?” you chuckle in disbelief.
“I’ve got nothing to be jealous about, it seems. What with the ‘I love you, I love you, I—’” he mocks you while standing up and you smack his arm.
“Sh-shut up.” You huff, pouting as he puts your panties back in place, dolling you back up and kissing your shoulder.
“Nope. But you’re gonna wish you had when the poor guy out there’s blushing redder than red.” he teases. Your eyes widen and you cover your mouth with your hand when you realize he had to have heard everything.
“You’re insane.” your voice is muffled by your hand.
“Insane’s one word for it,” he smirks. “I like to say I’m just crazy for you.”
Not long later, you’re climbing back into the car. Satoru follows, flopping into the passenger seat with a contented sigh like he’s just won a marathon.
As you pull out of the station, he stretches again, kicking his feet up on the dash like he owns the place. “You know,” he says casually, “you should really thank me. That guy was totally about to ask for your number. I saved you from a very awkward situation.”
And you could quite literally kill him.
༒︎ Geto Suguru ༒︎
The room is buzzing with conversation, a polite undercurrent of tension that doesn’t escape you. Cult leaders and their followers mill about in finely tailored clothes, exchanging calculated smiles and empty pleasantries. You’re trying your best to look engaged, but your thoughts keep drifting to Suguru.
He stands a few feet away, surrounded by a small circle of curse users, his tall frame commanding attention with ease. His black robes flow elegantly around him, his long hair tied back neatly. The faint smirk on his face, the calm way he speaks— it all oozes confidence. Control. Every now and then, he glances in your direction, his sharp eyes softening for just a moment before flicking back to the conversation.
You’re nursing a drink near the refreshment table when someone sidles up beside you.
“Ah, I was hoping I’d get the chance to meet you,” a smooth voice says.
You turn to see a tall man in a perfectly tailored suit, his polished appearance almost too pristine. His expression is warm but calculated, and his sharp eyes are already fixed on you. Takeda. You recognize him instantly— leader of a large, influential cult. Non-sorcerer, but powerful in his own way.
“Good evening,” you reply, forcing a polite smile. They have their role to play, Geto tells you, so you make sure to keep appearances with non-sorcerers despite their usual poor attitude toward you.
He smiles wider. “Good evening, indeed. I couldn’t help but notice you standing here all by yourself. It seems almost criminal for someone as lovely as you to be left alone at an event like this.”
You feel your cheeks warm at the unexpected compliment, a small flush creeping up your neck. “I’m not alone. I’m here with my boyfriend,” you say, gesturing subtly in Suguru’s direction.
Takeda follows your gaze and chuckles softly. “Suguru Geto. Of course. I’ve heard much about him.” His attention snaps back to you, and his smile turns almost wolfish. “I must admit, though, I’m surprised. I didn’t think someone so… captivating would end up with a man who seems so creepy… Besides, I’m sure he’s always so busy. Too busy to truly appreciate a beauty like you.”
Your face heats further, and you stammer, “He’s not too busy. He’s just—”
Before you can finish, he takes your hand in his and presses a lingering kiss to your knuckles. It’s old-fashioned, deliberate, and enough to leave you momentarily stunned. Not in awe, but in pure shock. He’s bold, you’ll give him that.
Your breath catches, and you feel a wave of heat rush to your face. You try to pull your hand back, but his grip is firm— not unkind, but enough to make you falter. You can’t ruin appearances by hurting him, so you allow it, praying he’ll give up soon.
“A pleasure meeting you,” he murmurs, his lips still ghosting over your skin.
And then you feel it— the air shifting suddenly. A heavy, familiar presence fills the space around you, and Takeda finally releases your hand. You glance over your shoulder to see Suguru a few feet away, his dark eyes fixed on the two of you as he approaches.
“Takeda,” Suguru says smoothly, his tone light but carrying a weight that makes your stomach flip because you know better.
Takeda straightens and flashes a smile that’s far too confident. “Geto. What a pleasure to see you,” He gestures toward you. “I was just introducing myself to your lovely partner. She’s quite… enchanting.”
Suguru’s lips twitch, curving into a faint smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’m aware.”
There’s a pause, the kind that feels too loud in the quiet. Suguru’s gaze flickers briefly to your hand before returning to Takeda.
“I see you’ve already made yourself comfortable,” he continues softly.
Takeda chuckles nervously, clearly unsure of how to respond. Geto’s not usually the type to be confrontational in public. It’s normally all smiles and politics for him, so this has Takeda stunned. “I meant no disrespect, of course.”
Suguru hums thoughtfully. “No disrespect… Of course not.” He tilts his head slightly, his smile sharpening. “But you’d do well to remember your place, Takeda. Admiration is one thing. Touching, however…” He trails off, his tone turning razor-sharp, dark eyes honing in on the poor man’s. “That’s dangerous, especially for someone like you.”
Takeda falters, his polished demeanor cracking for just a moment. “I— I’ll keep that in mind,” he mutters before excusing himself and retreating into the crowd.
As soon as he’s gone, Suguru turns to you, his sharp expression softening slightly. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, just looking at you in a way that makes your stomach twist.
“You seemed… flustered,” he says finally, his voice quiet but probing.
Your cheeks burn, and you look away. “I wasn’t, he just caught me off guard,” you mumble.
Suguru steps closer, his dark eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “Are you sure? Because from where I was standing…” He pauses, his voice dropping. “It looked like you didn’t mind it.”
“Suguru—”
“Did you like it?” he interrupts, his tone impossibly soft, almost vulnerable. “A weakling holding your hand, kissing it like that… Did you enjoy it?” 
Your heart twists at the faint frown tugging at his lips, the rare glimpse of uncertainty in his usually composed expression. That’s when you recognize the look in his eye. It isn’t anger, it’s fear. Insecurity. Things you never expected to see from him.
“No,” you say quickly, reaching for him. “Of course not. I could never, baby.”
For a moment, he doesn’t respond, his gaze flickering over your face as if searching for any sign of dishonesty. Finally, he exhales softly and takes your hand in his, his thumb brushing over the spot where Takeda’s lips had been.
“Come with me,” he murmurs, his voice low but firm.
He leads you down a hallway, wanting to be away from the noise and chatter of the convention. When he pushes open the door to an empty room and pulls you inside, the silence feels almost deafening in comparison to everything on the outside.
Suguru closes the door and turns to face you, his dark eyes heavy with emotion. Without a word, he cups your face in his hands, his thumb brushing over your cheek.
“Say it,” he whispers, his voice raw.
“Say what?” you ask softly, your hands resting on his chest.
“That you’re mine,” he breathes, his forehead pressing against yours. “That you wouldn’t leave me for some monkey.”
Your heart aches at the quiet desperation in his tone. “I’m yours, of course I’m yours.” You whisper, your hands curling into his robes. “Always.”
The next thing you know, his lips are melting yours, soft at first, but quickly growing more insistent. When he pulls back, his breathing is uneven, and his eyes are darker than ever.
“Again,” he all but whines, his lips trailing down to your jaw. “Say it again.”
“I’m yours, Suguru,” you repeat, your voice racing as your heart squeezes. “Only yours.”
He exhales sharply, his hands sliding down to grip your waist. “Good,” he whispers, moreso to himself. “Good… because I need you.”
You nod, your fingers tangling in his hair as he kisses you again, this time with a desperation that feels like he’s trying to erase every trace of Takeda’s touch from your skin.
His nails dig into your sides, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips. He takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, tasting all that you have— all that you are. He’s needy, moving to hoist you up and hook your legs around his waist.
Your dress rides up your thighs and he wastes no time gripping at the fat of them, subtly rolling his hips into you in a way that tells you he may just be doing it subconsciously. Gasps are shared between your lips as he kisses you a few more times before moving to swipe his tongue up your neck, stopping just under your jaw and sucking a big fat hickey into the crevice.
It feels so good that you almost don’t notice the way his hands are working their way down, down, down to your ass, pulling you into him with every roll of his hips. You feel how hard he is even through his robes, unable and unwilling to stop yourself from sliding the top of his gojogesa off his broad shoulders. You’re dipping your head down to pepper kisses all over his shoulder while he marks you up, your nails leaving marks of their own on his skin from how hard you’re gripping him.
You know what this is. Know what he needs. You’d be a fool to stop him from taking it. “Sugu… here.” You tell him, emphasizing your words by rolling your hips in tandem with his.
You swear you hear him growl as he tears his lips from your throat and grips your underwear on one side to tear them off, your eyes widening at the action. Suguru’s normally a calm, calculated man, even when he makes love to you, everything is suave and he’s always in control, but now? Now, he’s become someone entirely different. Someone needy. Someone eager to prove a point. To stake a claim.
“Here, angel.” Is all you hear before your mouth is stuffed with your own underwear and– when did he whip his dick out? You’ve got no idea, but it’s plugged into you before you can react, a long and grateful groan just spilling from Suguru’s lips like he’s finally laying in bed after a long day of hard labor. He’s home. Your head falls back against the door and he uses the opportunity to attack your neck again, littering the skin with kisses, licks, and the occasional bite.
He’s got no rhyme or rhythm in his thrusts, he simply ruts into you with a force that has the door shaking, the metal bar rattling and making your stomach lurch with fear at the fact that it could so easily be pushed for you two to end up on display for everyone. The fear falls away soon, however, replaced with nothing but pleasure when he’s targeting that wonderful gummy little bullseye that makes you go dumb on his cock.
Your eyes start searching for something in the back of your head, drool dribbling down the corners of your mouth and soaking your underwear as your shaky moans are muffled by the fabric. And you don’t know when it started, but your ears tune into Suguru whining the same thing repeatedly. “Mine, all mine, mine, mine, mine—” again and again and again with every punctuated thrust targeting your poor cervix.
Your nails rake down his back, hoping to find some sort of balance to compensate for the fact that your legs are beginning to ragdoll, no strength left in them as they flop by his sides with every thrust. Except, you don’t have to worry. No, his grip on you is bruising, he never wants to let you go.
And you wish you could see his face in this moment. See how he looks when he’s so adamant about proving it to himself that you’re his. Before you know it, you’re snaking a hand into his hair and tugging his head back, earning a needy little whine from his puffy lips before he’s looking at you. Oh, is he looking at you. Like you’re the world. Like you’re salvation. His brows are drawn tightly together, a pout on his lips that tells you he’d be nothing without you. God, you wanna kiss him. Wanna tell him a million times over that you’d never even think of another.
The look on your face tells him exactly what you want, you think, because in the next instant, he’s tearing the underwear from your mouth and crushing his lips into yours. His thrusts have rhythm now, his hips fucking into you with urgency. Every time his thick cock slips past your puffy folds, you’re inched closer, oh so closer to cumming and your stomach draws tight at the feeling. He’s chasing both of your orgasms, not once missing that spongey little spot that makes you see stars as he pounds you into the door, your voice sounding out to God knows how many people are in the hallway while you kiss him, your drool now slipping down his chin.
You hear him groan into the kiss as his hips start to falter– he’s close. And yet, while his rhythm is lost, his force is worse. Every thrust brings you closer and closer to the edge until you’re right there. “I love you,” he whines against your lips before breaking away and letting his head fall back. “I love you, I love you, I. Fucking. Love. You.” He punctuates the last repetition with a thrust for each word, cumming on the very last one along with you, who couldn’t help but cum at the words he’s never said before.
You two had been together for a year. A whole year and not once had Suguru ever uttered the words. You always knew he wasn’t an emotional man, so you never expected to hear the words. You felt it, though. His care for you. It was in his actions. How he never forgot an important date, how he would always bring home food or a treat or flowers for you, how he loathed being away from you for any given reason. And yet, the words still shock you.
He ruts into you a few more times before he stills, nothing to be heard except for your breaths shared between each other until his eyes go wide– perhaps in realization of what he’s just said, and he kisses you. Softer this time. More sure of himself. Like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders now that he’s confessed.
When he finally pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, his hands tightening on your thighs. “Don’t let anyone else touch you like that again,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough. Not angry, not upset, just… needy.  “I don’t care who it is. I won’t stand for it. Even if you don’t love me like I love you, I just can’t bear to see that again.”
You smile and offer a tired chuckle, brushing his hair back from his face. “Y’know, for someone usually so calculated and knowing, you sure are stupid,” you shake your head softly. “I love you, too. More, actually.”
His lips press against your temple, and he exhales slowly, the tension in his body finally easing. “Not possible,” he murmurs again, his voice soft. You can hear his smile in it. “Nobody’s ever loved anyone like I love you.”
༒︎ Toji Fushiguro ༒︎
You aren’t sure if dragging Toji to your high school reunion is a brilliant idea or the worst decision you’ve made all year. On one hand, you know he can charm the socks off anyone when he wants to, all cocky smirks and lazy grins that send shivers down your spine. On the other hand, he doesn’t exactly thrive in situations that involve niceties and polite small talk—especially with people he doesn’t give a shit about. Still, you’ve convinced him, mostly because you want to show him off. He’s hot, and he’s yours. What’s the point if you can’t gloat a little?
Toji is surprisingly well-behaved for most of the evening. He nurses a glass of bourbon with his usual swagger, leaning against the bar and throwing you looks that tell you that he’ll be waiting for you to make this worth his while later. He even manages to avoid scaring off too many of your old classmates, though you catch the occasional side-eye when he’s not so subtle about telling them to fuck off. Everything’s going smoothly.
That is, of course, until he notices you talking to him.
You don’t mean to bump into your ex-boyfriend. Really, you don’t. But there he is, standing near the drink table with the same easy grin you remember from your teenage years. He calls your name, and before you can stop yourself, you’re smiling back and walking over. Toji’s gaze burns into your back the entire way.
“Wow, you look amazing,” your ex says, his tone warm but casual. It’s just an observation— a compliment between old friends, but you can just feel the way Toji’s teeth grind from across the room.
“Thanks. You’re not looking too bad yourself,” you reply, keeping your tone light. The conversation flows easily, filled with harmless reminiscing about old high school antics. Nothing romantic. Nothing serious. Just memories of embarrassing pranks, favorite teachers, and the god-awful cafeteria food.
But you know Toji. You don’t have to look to know he’s watching, his sharp green eyes narrowing every time your ex laughs or steps just a little too close. You can practically hear the internal dialogue: “Who the fuck does this guy think he is?”
Then your ex does it. The thing you know is going to push Toji over the edge.
He hugs you.
It’s quick and friendly, a casual embrace to say goodbye. But as soon as your ex’s arms wrap around you, you feel your body being eaten up by your boyfriend’s shadow. You pull back quickly, about to turn to Toji to defuse whatever storm is brewing, but it’s too late.
He moves quickly— silent and deadly. One second, he’s leaning against the bar. The next, he’s standing behind you, his presence towering and suffocating. His hand rests on the back of your neck, deceptively casual as he leans in close.
“I dunno why yer touchin’ her, pal,” Toji drawls, his voice low and dangerous, “but don’t let it happen again.”
Your ex blinks, clearly startled by the sudden shift in atmosphere. “I… sorry? I was just saying goodb—”
Toji’s hand moves and you worry he may actually hit the poor guy. “Oh, shit.”
“You gonna say goodbye, then get the fuck outta here,” Toji says, his grin sharp and feral as he subtly lifts his sweater just enough to reveal the gun tucked into his waistband. “Before I decide you don’t need yer legs.”
Your ex’s eyes go wide and he stumbles over himself to retreat, mumbling something about it being nice to see you before practically sprinting away. You don’t even have time to scold Toji before security is suddenly very interested in the two of you.
Five minutes later, you’ve been escorted out of the venue, Toji’s hand resting possessively on the small of your back. You wait until you’re alone in the parking lot to whirl on him.
“Seriously?” you hiss, smacking his arm. “You pulled a gun on him?!”
“Relax, doll,” Toji says, his grin infuriatingly smug. “I didn’t even take it out.”
You groan, stomping toward the car. You reach for the passenger door, but before you can open it, his arm shoots out, blocking your path.
“Nah,” he says, his voice dropping an octave. “Yer sittin’ in the back with me.”
“What, am I in trouble now? Gonna spank me?” you ask sarcastically, raising an eyebrow.
Toji doesn’t answer. He just opens the back door and shoves you inside, sliding in next to you and shutting the door behind him. You cross your arms, giving him a pointed glare. It doesn’t take long before he’s sulking.
He leans back against the seat, legs spread wide, and huffs like an overgrown child. “Wasn’t jealous,” he mutters.
You snort. “Sure you weren’t.”
“Ain’t funny,” he grumbles, glaring at you.
You can’t resist pushing him just a little further. “If you’re not jealous, then you won’t mind if I go back inside to grab his number. Y’know, for old times’ sake.”
His head snaps toward you, his jaw tightening. In one quick motion, he turns, caging you against the seat with his arms. “The fuck you just say?”
“You heard me,” you say, smirking. “If you’re not jealous, it shouldn’t bother you.”
Toji’s eyes narrow, and the tension in the car shifts again, but this time it isn’t anger. It’s something else entirely. He leans in until his nose brushes yours, his voice dropping to a low growl.
“Ain’t about bein’ jealous,” he says, his breath warm against your lips. “Ain’t nobody else touchin’ my girl. Don’t care what reason they have.”
His hands find your waist, pulling you closer as his lips ghost along your jawline. His touch is possessive, his grip firm enough to leave no room for argument. You can’t help the shiver that runs down your spine.
“Toji…” you start, but he cuts you off with a low chuckle.
“Nah, you’ve been mouthin’ off thinkin’ yer cute,” he says, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck. “Time to shut that pretty mouth o’ yours.”
He's enjoying himself, towering over you in the confined space of the car, the sunlight streaming in from the windows only highlighting the wolfish grin that spreads across his face.
“You’re so—”
"Hm?" He hums, his hand already snaking down your side, easily slipping under the hem of your dress as he plants a kiss onto the side of your neck. "Y' got somethin' t' say, doll?" 
His fingers dance on your skin, inching closer and closer to the spot he knows will make you weak in the knees. He's toying with you, getting a kick out of your restraint as you try to formulate words again. But before you can finish even a syllable, he cuts you off.
"Save it, sweetheart. Was gonna be nice 'nd all when we got home t’night, but you had to go and run that pretty mouth with yer ex." He growls lowly in your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “So while yer getting yer brains fucked stupid, I want you t’remember… this is on you.”
With a rough grasp, he flips you onto your stomach in the backseat, your dress riding up your ass as he yanks your panties down with a swift tug, the cool air hitting it and making your hole clench around nothing. His dick is hard and straining against his pants, pre seeping through to form a dark spot. The anticipation of what's to come has your breath hitching, heat pooling between your legs. He leans over you, the weight of his body pressing down onto yours.
He’s rutting against your ass, one hand sliding up to toy with one of your nipples while his other hand massages your hip. God, if you could see the needy little look on your face right now, then he’d finally get you to understand just why he’s so addicted to you. You’re just so gluttonous for him. Always wanting more, more, more. And of course, he’s always willing to give.
But right now isn’t the moment for giving. No, he needs to take. To take and take and take until there’s no more left of you to give to anyone but him. Always him. He backs away just enough for him to unzip his pants, his cock springing free. His hand finds it immediately, stroking himself in slow, teasing motions, hard length throbbing against your bare ass. There's a devilish grin on his face as he utters, "Gonna show ‘er how much she needs me."
Without waiting for a response, he aligns himself with your sobbing cunt, teasing your folds with his thick head just swiping back and forth and mixing his pre into your skick. He groans at the contact, his hand gripping your hip tighter. Suddenly, with a swift thrust, he plunges himself deep, his girth stretching you so mind numbingly good that you fear you may just pass out. The thing is, he’s barely in, but the sensation is already overwhelming, causing you to gasp and buck your hips.
He wishes you knew how fucking good you feel. Wishes you knew that whenever he fucks you, that tight ring of resistance tries so hard to push him out. That is, until he’s fucked his fat tip into you a few times, because then you’re practifally sucking him in. He knows the stretch is a lot. Knows you’re sore hours later without fail and yet, you still beg for more. Just like now.
Words are failing you, but your look is enough. You want more. Need more than just his tip. You wanna be broken in. And so he does. He feeds you inch after inch of him, sitting up and pausing at the halfway point to admire the way your cunt looks swallowing him so eagerly. He grasps at the globes of your ass, jiggling them and biting his lower lip at the God granted sight.
His free hand moves to the back of your head, fingers snaking into your hair before he grips tightly and brings your head up so he can press your face into the window. And just light that, he fucks the rest of himself into you roughly, grunting.
"Fuckin’— take it," he rasps out, taking a brief moment to adjust to the feeling of your tightness around him, unable to resist a little moan of his own. Then, he starts moving. Slow and punishing at first, then picking up speed with the same punishing force. Each thrust is precise and purposeful, perfectly hitting that spot inside you that makes you feel fuzzy. He's unabashedly vocal too, grunting and groaning with each delicious slide in and out of your wetness. "Fuck... y' take my cock so good..." he compliments, pushing your face harder into the back window. 
Easing up on his grip on your waist, he rolls his hips, grinding against your ass before pulling out for just a moment to slap his tip against your folds, watching as your cunt twitches and then thrusting back in again. His actions are deliberate and controlled, meant to stir you up and drive you to your limit. 
"Please baby, please, please, please..." you moan helplessly, your words swallowed up by the sounds of your bodies slapping together and his grunts of pleasure. But he merely chuckles darkly, gripping your hip and pressing your face against the window harder as if to anchor himself and punish you at the same time, his thrusts never faltering. 
"Y' can gimme more than that," he teases, a smirk playing on his lips as he leans down, teeth nibbling at your exposed neck. 
He slows almost to a stop, but the slight shallow thrusts still feel so overwhelmingly good you think you’re gonna go insane. “Y’really think she could live without me? Mmm mm, no, she needs me. I’m the only one who can stuff this greedy little pussy the way she needs to be stuffed. Isn’t that right, baby? Say it f’me.”
“F-fuck! Toki, gonna—” SMACK!
“Not talkin’ to you, princess. Talkin’ to her.” He delivers a pointed thrust into you to emphasize the fact that he’s genuinely talking to your cunt in his pussydrunk state.
Your sure he’s left a permanent handprint because of how hard he spanked your ass. The sting that lingers where his palm landed makes your cunt twitch and ache around him, which he considers to be answer enough. “S’what I fuckin’ thought. Atta fuckin’ girl, yes baby.” He groans, quickening the pace ever so slightly and beginning to pull you back into him to meet his thrusts.
“Talkin to an ex, y’must have wanted to get yerself fucked stupid, hm? Is that what you wanted? To be fucked like this?” He’s talking, but you can tell it isn’t for actual answers, no, it’s more to himself. He’s fucked out. So close to the edge.
The thrusting quickens, his hot breath fanning over your ear. "Cum f' me, doll," he commands, his voice dropping an octave, "show me how good I make y' feel. Only me. And then I’m gonna breed yer cute cunt so good." With that, he delivers a particularly hard thrust, aiming for that spot inside you that will unravel you completely.
That’s when you finally let loose, the coil inside your tummy snapping and letting you feel so much pleasure that you’re moving your ass back into him with a force that’s unmatched, just swallowing him deep into you over and over again. And that does it for him— his cum spurting inside you and filling you so good.
He kisses you so hungrily you feel you may just lose your breath entirely and pass out. His hands are holding you in place so you don’t fuck back onto him, because he knows if you did, he’d break you.
Toji leans back, smirking at the sight of you, his thumb brushing your swollen lips.
“You done throwing your little tantrum?” you tease, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.
He glares at you, though there’s no real heat behind it. “You’re real fuckin’ funny, y’know that?”
“Oh, I know.” And deciding to drop the bombshell now, you lean back against the seat and say casually, “By the way, he’s married. To a man. They have two kids.”
Toji freezes, his expression shifting from smug to incredulous in seconds. He blinks like a cartoon character in shock, his brows furrowing. “What?”
“Yup,” you say, your grin widening. “Your big, scary display of dominance? Totally unnecessary.”
He huffs, running a hand through his hair. The look on his face is so priceless you wish you could brand it into your memory. “Tch. Coulda fuckin’ said somethin’ sooner.”
“And miss all the fun?” You laugh, leaning in to kiss his cheek.
Before you can say anything else, he’s on you again, his hands roaming as he mutters, “Gonna make you pay for makin’ me start a scene.”
You laugh, the sound cutting off into a gasp as his hands find their mark. “I made you start a scene? Oh, this I gotta hear.” You say, your voice breathless but still teasing.
“Keep talkin’, doll,” he says, his grin turning wicked. “See where it gets ya.” And then his lips are finding yours again. Just like that, the argument is forgotten, lost in the haze of his possessive, consuming affection.
༒︎ Choso Kamo ༒︎
The mall is crowded, loud with the hum of chattering voices and echoing footsteps. It isn’t your favorite place to hang out, but your best friend had begged you to come along. Somehow, Choso ended up tagging along too, though you weren’t sure why. He wasn’t exactly the mall type, after all— too quiet, too detached from the bustling energy of human spaces like this.
You glance over your shoulder at him now, and there he is, just like you’d expect. He’s trailing a few steps behind, hands shoved into the sleeves of his robe, his dark eyes drifting lazily over the crowd. His usual stoic mask is firmly in place, making him seem untouchable to anyone passing by. But you know better than that. Beneath the unapproachable aura, Choso is awkward— painfully shy even. He’s still figuring out how to interact with humans, still trying to understand what it means to live in a world like this.
And for some reason, he’s decided you’re his safe space.
You smile to yourself, turning your attention back to the task at hand. Your friend had told you they’d meet you at the bookstore, but they’re running late, so you decide to wander into one of the nearby shops to kill time.
Choso doesn’t follow. You assume he’s probably going to find a dark corner to tuck himself into. 
What you don’t realize is that he does follow. At a distance. He’s used to watching from the sidelines, content to let you move through your world without interference. He doesn’t mind, in fact, he learns from watching how you interact with people, animals, media, and the likes. He learns about the world, but more importantly, he learns about you.
His eyes are on you now, but just seconds later, they shift. There’s a new focus, a new target. Him.
The guy behind the counter at the little boutique you walked into. He’s tall, clean-cut, and obnoxiously friendly. At first, Choso thinks nothing of it. It’s not like he can stop every stranger from talking to you. But as the guy’s gestures become more animated, and his laughter gets a little too familiar, something shifts in Choso’s chest.
He wishes he could hear whatever it is he’s saying that has you so giddy. Wishes he could just— wait, what?
The guy leans forward across the counter, his hand brushing yours as he hands you something, maybe a receipt, maybe a bag, Choso doesn’t care. Because what he does next is what hammers the nail in the coffin. His hand moves to the top of your head and he ruffles your hair, making you laugh. It’s the casual intimacy of the gesture that makes his stomach churn. He knows he shouldn’t jump to conclusions. He knows. But he can’t help the way his jaw tightens, or the way his fingers curl into fists in his sleeves.
You’re still smiling at the guy. You’re laughing. And he hates it.
His mind spirals before he can stop it. The scene plays over and over in his head, each time twisting into something worse. What if you like this guy? What if you’re into someone who can flirt with ease, someone who doesn’t stumble over their words or overthink every little thing?
What if you don’t want him?
Choso feels a sharp pang in his chest, like something fragile has cracked. He’s been so careful, so guarded with his feelings. He thought he could keep them tucked away, safe from rejection, safe from ruining this. But now? Now he feels them slipping through the cracks, raw and unmanageable.
He looks away, leaning back against the wall outside the store. His heart’s racing, though he doesn’t know why. It’s not like he has any claim over you. You’re your own person, free to talk to whoever you want. He’s just… He’s just the weird half-curse with no idea what his place is in this world who follows you around and doesn’t know how to say what he feels. But what if he did say it?
The thought hits him like a lightning bolt, sudden and electrifying. He’s scared, sure— terrified, actually, but the idea of staying silent is worse. He doesn’t want to lose you to someone else, not without at least trying.
So he waits.
When you finally walk out of the shop, you’re holding a small bag, a content smile on your face. You spot him instantly, standing off to the side like he’s been there the whole time.
“Hey, sorry that took so long. They had some really cute stuff in there,” you say, holding up the bag as if to explain.
Choso doesn’t respond right away. His eyes flick to the shop behind you, then back to your face. He doesn’t ask about your purchases. Instead, he asks, “Who was that?”
You blink, caught off guard. “Who?”
“The guy you were talking to,” he says, his tone as flat as ever, but there’s something behind it—a tension you can’t quite place.
“Oh, him? That’s just my friend from school. He works here part-time,” you explain, shrugging. “I didn’t even know before now.”
Your words are casual, but they allow Choso a wave of relief. That relief is short-lived, however, replaced almost immediately by a surge of determination. This is his chance. His moment to say what he’s been holding back.
“Can I… talk to you for a second?” he asks, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant.
You tilt your head, curious but not concerned. “Of course. What’s up?”
He gestures for you to follow him, leading you away from the bigger crowd and toward a seating area deeper in the mall that’s less populated. Once you’re there, he turns to face you, his hands still buried in his sleeves.
For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. He’s searching for the right words, but they don’t come. Instead, what comes out is raw and unfiltered.
“I thought you liked him,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.
You blink, surprised. “What? No, Choso, I told you, he’s just a friend.”
He nods, but his gaze drops to the floor. “I know. It’s just… I don’t know how to do this.”
“Do what?” you ask gently.
He looks up at you then, his dark eyes searching yours. “This. Any of this. Being around people. Trying to figure out how I’m supposed to feel, how I’m supposed to act.”
You wait, sensing there’s more he wants to say.
“But with you… it’s different,” he continues, his voice steady despite the nerves etched into his expression. “I don’t feel lost when I’m with you. I feel… human.”
Your heart skips a beat, but you don’t interrupt.
“And I don’t want to lose that. I don’t want to lose you,” he says, the words tumbling out before he can stop them. “I like you. I… I think I’ve liked you since the moment we met. I just didn’t know how to say it— didn’t know what it was. B-But I do, now.”
You stare at him, his confession hanging in the air between you. For a moment, he thinks he’s made a mistake. That he’s crossed a line he can’t uncross.
But then you smile.
Not just any smile— the kind of smile that makes him feel like the world isn’t so complicated after all.
It’s all you can do because his confession doesn’t catch you off guard, not really.
You’ve always known.
“Cho,” you say softly, stepping closer, “I know. I’ve known for a while.”
His eyes widen slightly, his lips parting in surprise. “You… knew?”
You nod, giving him a small, reassuring smile. “Yeah. You’re not exactly subtle, you know. But I didn’t say anything because I wanted to give you time. Time to figure out what you wanted, how you felt.”
He’s silent, staring at you like he doesn’t know whether to be relieved or mortified.
“For what it’s worth,” you continue, your voice warm, “I like you, too. Just as you are. You don’t have to change or be anyone else for me, Choso. I like you for you.”
Something in his expression shifts. It’s now a mix of disbelief and something deeper, something more raw. His gaze flickers to your lips for the briefest moment, and when he speaks, his voice is barely audible. “Can I… kiss you?”
The question catches you off guard, not because you don’t want him to, but because of the way he asks it, so tentative and earnest.
“Of course,” you say, your tone gentle but steady.
But he hesitates, his eyes darting to the small crowd around you. His voice drops lower, almost shy. “Not here. Can we… go somewhere else?”
You bite back a smile at how endearing he looks, his cheeks tinted pink as he avoids your gaze. “Come on,” you say, nodding toward a quieter hallway where the restrooms are tucked away.
He follows you like a shadow, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie as he keeps his head down. When you reach the single-occupancy restroom, you push the door open and step inside, holding it for him as he follows. The door clicks shut, and the noise of the mall fades into a distant hum.
For a moment, the two of you just stand there, the tension in the small space thick enough to cut with a knife. Choso shifts nervously, his hands twitching at his sides. “I… don’t know how start,” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper.
“That’s okay,” you reply, your smile soft and steady. “Just follow my lead.”
You step closer, reaching out to cup his face in your hands. He freezes for a moment, his dark eyes wide and uncertain, but when you lean in, his lids flutter shut.
The kiss starts slow, tentative, his lips warm and soft against yours. But as you deepen it, something shifts. It’s like a switch flips inside him, and suddenly his hands are on your waist, gripping you like you might slip away if he doesn’t hold on tight enough.
He grows bolder with each passing second, his fingers wandering over your arms, your back, your hips, your ass. There’s a desperation in the way he touches you, as if he’s trying to memorize every inch of you all at once. Finally, he pulls you flush against him, his entire arms wrapped around you, one hand gripping your hip and the other on your shoulder.
You can’t help but chuckle against his lips, pulling back just enough to catch your breath. “Easy, Cho,” you murmur, your tone teasing. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Sorry,” he mutters, his face flushed as he loosens his grip, but only slightly. “I just… I don’t know how to stop.”
Your smile softens, and you press a light kiss to his cheek. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s okay to feel nervous.”
You kiss him again, this time letting him lead you. As things heat up, he starts to get carried away again, his hands roaming with a mix of urgency and inexperience. His kisses grow hungrier, his breath ragged as he presses closer, his body practically trembling against yours.
Suddenly his whole body stiffens and a low, unsteady sound akin to a whine escapes him before he pulls back, his face burning with embarrassment. He avoids your gaze, his hands falling away as he stammers, “I— I’m sorry. I dunno what— I didn’t want to stop, I—”
You pull back further to see a dark patch beginning to form even on the purple cloth that rests in front of his robes, realizing what happened. Your perfect Choso just came in his pants from kissing you. You can’t stay silent much longer for fear of making him more embarrassed, so you hush him gently, cupping his face and tilting it so he has no choice but to meet your eyes. “Cho, it’s okay,” you say firmly, your voice steady and soothing. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. This is all new for you, and that’s perfectly fine.”
He swallows hard, his dark eyes searching yours for any hint of judgment or disappointment. When he finds none, his shoulders relax just a little.
“You mean that?” he asks softly.
You smile, brushing a stray strand of hair from his face. “Of course, I do. We’ll take things slow, okay? There’s no rush.”
He nods slowly, the tension in his posture easing as he lets out a shaky breath. After a moment, he looks at you again, his expression soft but serious. “Is this… what love is?” He closes his eyes, his lips curving into the faintest smile as he leans into your touch. And in that quiet, stolen moment, it feels like the rest of the world fades away, leaving only the two of you in its place.
༒︎ Ryomen Sukuna ༒︎
The room is dimly lit, the sterile scent of disinfectant clinging to the air. You’re lying back on the exam table, your dress pulled up over your growing belly. The monitor hums softly as the sonographer, a man with overly polite eyes and a soothingly gentle touch, adjusts the machine. He explains the process as he goes, his voice calm and warm, clearly trying to put you at ease.
Today is your first 3D ultrasound where you’ll finally get a better view of the life growing inside you. It feels surreal. You’ve had to wait until you’re 32 weeks along to get the best view, so the wait has made you antsy. Will it look like Sukuna? You? Will it smile or suck its thumb? Surely it’s too early for that, right? All of these questions are running through your mind and making your body vibrate with both nervousness and anticipation. It actually does help that the sonographer noticed and is trying to soothe you. 
You glance to the corner where Sukuna stands, his towering figure leaned protectively against the wall. His crimson eyes are locked on the sonographer, sharp and unyielding, like a predator stalking prey. His arms are crossed over his broad chest, claws tapping rhythmically on his forearm, a faint sound that portrays his growing irritation. The air feels heavy with tension; thick enough to cut with a knife. You’d be lying if you said that didn’t contribute to your current nervousness.
The sonographer prepares to squirt gel onto your belly, offering you a soft smile. “This might feel a little cold,” he says, his tone careful. “But it’ll help us get a clear image of the baby.”
You flinch slightly at the cold, and the response is immediate.
“Watch your hands.” Sukuna’s voice slices through the room, low and menacing.
The sonographer freezes, visibly startled. His gaze darts nervously to Sukuna. “I- I’m just preparing her to perform the scan, sir. There’s no need to worry.”
Sukuna scoffs, the sound dark and mocking. “Worry? I’m not worried, human. I’m warning you.” His crimson eyes narrow, radiating danger. “You’re touching my wife who’s carrying the heir to my throne. Be mindful.”
You press your palm to your forehead, exhaling sharply. “Ryo,” you say, your tone firm. “He’s doing his job. Stop scaring him.”
Sukuna’s eyes flick to you, softening slightly, but the fire in them doesn’t fully die. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
The sonographer hesitates, visibly uneasy, before resuming his work. The wand glides gently over your belly, and the monitor flickers to life. He points out the baby’s heartbeat, their tiny limbs, and the way they seem to kick at nothing in particular. His voice is soothing as he explains, almost too soothing for Sukuna’s liking.
You can see that the baby has four limbs, thankfully, and it’s got a frown on it’s face, much like its father’s. Until you speak, that is. When you speak, you can see the soft smile that graces your sweet baby’s face, again much like its father’s. You feel tears prick at your eyes finally seeing your baby so clearly.
The sonographer glances at you again, his smile almost reverent. “You’re doing wonderfully. Your baby looks perfect— beautiful, actually.”
That does it.
“Beautiful, huh?” Sukuna mutters, his voice laced with venom. “Bet you say that to every woman you see. Must be part of your script. You’re just so reassuring. Well, my wife doesn’t need that. She has me. Do you think yourself better than I?”
“Ryomen.” Your voice sharpens, and you shoot him a glare that tells him you’re angry. “Enough.”
He stares at you for a long moment, his lips curling in mild defiance, but he backs off for now. The sonographer continues, though his hands move a little faster this time, clearly eager to finish. Sukuna’s eyes remain locked on him, every small movement scrutinized like a hawk circling its prey.
Finally, the scan concludes. The sonographer hands you a towel to clean off the gel, offering another polite smile. He opens his mouth to speak, but Sukuna doesn’t give him the chance.
“You’re done, right? Get out.”
The man’s eyes widen; he looks to you as if hoping for an intervention. You manage a tight smile. “Thank you for your help. Forgive my unpleasant husband,” you say pointedly, dismissing him with a polite nod.
The door clicks shut behind him, leaving the two of you alone. Sukuna stands there, still bristling, his claws twitching at his sides.
You sigh, wiping the last of the gel from your belly. “You’re ridiculous, Kuna. He wasn’t touching me in any sort of suspicious way.”
“He shouldn’t have been touching you in the first place,” Sukuna snaps, taking a step closer.
“He’s a medical professional, Ryomen. It’s his job.”
“I don’t care,” he growls, his crimson eyes boring into yours. “He was too close; too soft. Like he thought he could make you feel safer than I do.”
You sit up, tugging your dress down over your belly. “No one is trying to take your place.”
He scoffs, pacing in front of you like a restless beast. “You’re mine. No one else gets to put their hands on you like that.”
You stand, squaring your shoulders as you step into his path. “Would you rather our child go unchecked and we miss something bad? You can’t scare every single person who helps me, Ryomen.”
His eyes narrow, the frustration in them simmering just beneath the surface. “You’re too soft,” he mutters. “Always making excuses for people who don’t deserve it.”
“Soft doesn’t mean weak,” you counter, standing firm. “And I don’t need you turning every little thing into a fight. Trust me, Ryomen. I’m not going anywhere. But… you’re wrong, you know. I do need comfort. You provide safety, yes, but never reassurance. Gentleness. Maybe just… passive acceptance. I’m carrying your child. Of course I’d like to be doted on and treated with care.”
Before he can get upset again, you add, “By you. Only you. So just— please stop it with the anger and hostility. I want my child to know their father is capable of love the way I know he is.”
The tension in his shoulders loosens slightly, though the possessiveness in his gaze remains. He steps closer, towering over you, his hand coming to rest on your belly. His touch is firm but deliberate, a reminder of who you belong to.
“You’re mine,” he says, his voice low and commanding. “You. The baby. You’re my dearest prizes. No one else gets to act like they know how to care for you better than I do. I study everything, every minute detail about you and what’s to expect with the child. I suppose I’ve been so wound up with preparing myself and protecting you that I’ve gotten more hostile than usual. I… can work on it.”
You place your hand over his, meeting his gaze with unwavering confidence. “That’s all I’m asking.”
“Get back on the exam bed.”
“What? Why? He’s finish—” he interrupts you by walking you backwards until your ass hits the edge, caging you in.
“Because I don’t think I’ve ever told you how beautiful you look carrying my heir and standing up to even me. And I’d like to show you just how much I love it.” He says, leaning down to nuzzle his nose against your neck, just below your jawline. As expected, you tilt your head up for a kiss and he indulges you, kissing you so hungrily and lifting you onto the bed.
His hands wander all over your body, his touch carrying a gentleness you’re not used to. Goosebumps raise on the whole of your body in response and you’re leaning forward into the kiss, losing yourself in it. You don’t even realize he’s hiked your dress up and removed your panties until the cold hits your slick-sheened pussy.
“Ryō—”
“I know, brat, I know.” He says, a teasing lilt in his voice as he parts from your lips to kiss along your jaw. “Come to the edge f’me.”
You do exactly that as he undoes his robes to reveal his second set of arms… and his second mouth. God, you love how freaky this man is. His second set of arms grip the globes of your ass to hold you steady as he pulls you flush against his lower mouth, his fat tongue just smearing your cunt with your slick and his saliva. 
You’ve never cared to admit that this mouth of his has always been your favorite. It’s so big that it offers more coverage, more pressure, and gets so much dee—
“Biiiiig stretch.” Sukuna warns you before he plunges his second tongue into your hole, lingering at that first ring of resistance to deliver a few shallow, but mind numbingly pleasurable thrusts before he pushes the rest of the way in; as much as he can, that is.
He uses the moment your pretty little mouth releases an ah! to kiss you again, his first set of hands slipping up your dress to find your tits. If there’s anything he’d put on top of the list of things he loves about your changing body, it’s this. How fucking thick your ass has become and undeniably huge your tits have grown. Just swelling and preparing to fill with milk to sustain his heir.
He pinches your sensitive nipples between his large fingers, making you moan into the kiss, relaxing your cunt around his tongue between you. Suddenly, you’re lifted just slightly above the table, his other hands beginning to fuck you on his tongue, his saliva and your slick just drip, drip, dripping onto the bed and floor beneath you.
“So greedy. Pussy’s always so fucking greedy…” he groans, resting his forehead against yours so you both can watch as your pussy bulges from swallowing his tongue so eagerly. It’s such a lewd sight, one you’ve undeniably grown addicted to in your time together.
Your moans mingle together and it’s then you realize that he’s now using just one of his hands to fuck you on his tongue. His other is wrapped around both of his cocks and pumping them together, ribbons of pre falling down his lengths and being smeared by his movements. You’re not even slightly ashamed of the way you salivate seeing him getting off while eating your pussy and watching himself do it. It’s so fucking filthy that you can’t help but—
“Gonna cum f’me, aren’t you? Mmmmmhm, can tell by how she’s flutterin’ around my tongue. My needy fucking wife.” He smirks, pulling you flush to him so that the widest part of his tongue rubs against your clit while he switches it up and fucks his tongue into you, faster this time.
“O-Ohmyfuckinggod!” The words come out strung together, the added attention on your clit making you see stars, your breath quickening, heart beginning to race. You lean back onto the bed using your hands to prop you up so you can get a better view.
“So nasty, beautiful.” A chuckle falls from his lips and you can’t even respond before his upper hands are just engulfing your tits and kneading, easing the pain of the swelling and pleasing you at the same time.
Then, something happens. Milk begins to drip from your right nipple and it has you both stopping in your tracks. You’d heard of the low possibility that milk can come before you give birth, but you never considered it’d happen to you. A blush of embarrassment creeps on your face and you’re about to apologize when you hear Sukuna groan, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as his mouth immediately latches onto your tit and he just sucks.
“S-Sukuna, fuck!” You whine, his lower tongue beginning to work your quivering pussy again, bringing you right to the edge of pleasure.
He releases your tit with a pop! and nips it gently. “Mine. Mine, mine, all fuckin’ mine, such a good Queen providing for my heir early. Gonna be such a good momma.” He praises you before beginning to suck the lactating nipple again, making you come undone on his tongue, your gooey insides clenching around his tongue, trying to stop him with how tight you are, but he’s too strong, fucking his tongue into you through your orgasm to swallow up every last bit of cum you have to offer him.
It’s not until you’re whining and your legs are limp, weak pushes against his shoulders making him release your tit and slip his tongue from your slobbering hole. He runs the tip of his tongue against your oversensitive clit just a few times before you feel him kiss your puffy folds, making your body lurch.
You watch breathlessly as he tries to suck up the milk from your poor abused nipple again, your fingers slipping into his hair and tugging his face up to yours. “Y’know, you’re mine too. Forever. Don’t you forget that.” You smirk.
Something flickers in his eyes— pride, possessiveness, and a touch of vulnerability he’d never admit to. “Damn right I’m yours,” he says, his lips curling into a smirk. “But don’t think that means I’m gonna get soft on people.”
You lean into his hand as he caresses your cheek, a small smile playing at your lips. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
“And yet, here you are,” he says, leaning down until his face is inches from yours. His voice drops to a rumble. “Carrying my child. Still standing by me. So brave.”
“Someone has to keep you in check,” you tease, though your voice softens with affection.
He lets out a low chuckle, pressing a possessive kiss to your forehead. “Yeah, well, let’s see if you’re brave enough to take my cocks after cumming like such a good brat f’me.” 
Your eyes widen, feeble hands trying to push him away by his chest, “Kuna! We have to leave, they’re probably traumatized!” You tell him in a hushed tone, suddenly all too aware that you’re in a doctor’s office for fuck’s sake.
“Yeah, well. They can afford the therapy.” He gives you a shit eating grin while thumbing open your cunt. “Open up real wide f’me, baby.”
And as you brace yourself, you remind yourself to make apology rounds to the staff whenever your husband is through with you.
༒︎ Nanami Kento ༒︎
Nanami Kento is tired. Not just the kind of tired you feel after a long day, though God knows his body aches from another grueling shift of paperwork and exorcisms. No, it’s deeper than that. A bone-deep fatigue that comes from too many hours spent away from the one person he’d rather be with. You.
He steps through the door, loosening his tie with one hand and holding his briefcase in the other. The house is warm and smells faintly like the lavender candle you always light in the evenings. It feels like home, but he quickly notices something’s off.
Your voice carries down the hall, light and warm, tinged with laughter. It’s a sound that usually has his shoulders relaxing, but tonight, there’s an edge of tension beneath it that prickles at him. He sets his things down quietly, toeing off his shoes, and listens.
“Yeah, it’s been kind of lonely lately,” you say, and he freezes in place, his hand hovering above the coat rack. “I mean, I get it. Nanamin works so hard and I love him for it, but… I don’t know. I just miss him. I feel like I barely see him anymore.”
His chest tightens. You’re talking about him. He takes a slow, measured breath and steps closer, rounding the corner silently.
“Thank you for keeping me sane, though. Honestly, if I didn’t have someone to talk to, I’d probably be climbing the walls by now.” There’s a soft laugh on the other end of the line. Gojo’s laugh. The realization is instant and leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.
Gojo. Of course, it’s Gojo. His coworker, the occasional thorn in the side, the most insufferable man he knows. And apparently the one you’ve been leaning on while he’s been too busy drowning in work.
Kento feels his jaw tighten, his nails digging into the palm of his hand. He knows— logically, rationally— that there’s nothing going on between you and Gojo. You’d never betray him like that and Gojo, for all his teasing, would never cross that line. But the knot of jealousy twisting in his chest doesn’t care about logic.
You must have heard him shift uncomfortably because you glance over your shoulder, startled. Your expression softens when you see him and you give him a small, almost sheepish smile. “Hey, Kento just got home,” you say into the phone. “I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”
Nanami doesn’t miss the way Gojo’s laugh sounds out one last time before you hang up. He doesn’t say anything as you set your phone on the counter, but his silence is heavy. You know him well enough to recognize it immediately.
“Ken,” you say softly, stepping toward him. “Long day?”
He hums in acknowledgment, his gaze steady on you. It’s not cold, but there’s something simmering behind it; something that makes you hesitate. “Gojo?” he asks finally, his voice calm but with an edge you can’t ignore.
You blink, caught off guard by his demeanor. “Yeah. He was just checking in. He knows I’ve been home alone a lot lately.”
“Does he?” His tone is even, but the sharpness is undeniable.
You frown, crossing your arms. “Nanami, it’s not like that. He’s a friend. Our friend. You know that.”
“I do.” And he does. He knows it’s innocent. But that doesn’t make it easier to hear you laughing and confiding in someone else while he’s been too busy to do the same.
“Ken.” Your voice softens and you reach for him, your hand brushing his arm. “Please don’t do this. Don’t beat yourself up or think anything crazy. I’m not mad at you for working so much. I know why you do it. I know it’s for us. But… it’s hard sometimes. That’s all I meant.”
“I hate that you feel like this,” he says quietly, his gaze dropping to the floor. “That you have to go to someone else when I should be here.”
You step closer, your hands sliding up to his shoulders. “You’re here now,” you murmur, trying to pull him out of his head. “That’s what matters. That you always come back to me as soon as you can.”
He looks at you, something dark and conflicted in his eyes. “Is it enough?” he asks, his voice low, almost hesitant. “Am I enough? Or would you rather have a husband who has more time for you?”
Your heart breaks at the vulnerability in his voice. “Kenny,” you say firmly, cupping his face in your hands. “I don’t want anyone else. I just want you. Always.”
The tension in his shoulders eases slightly and his hands settle on your waist, pulling you closer. His lips find yours in a kiss that’s anything but gentle. It’s hungry. Desperate. As if he’s trying to make up for all the time he’s spent away from you in one moment.
You gasp against his mouth and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his hands sliding down to the globes of your ass and gripping tightly. When he finally pulls back, his breathing is uneven, his forehead resting against yours. “I’ll change for you,” he murmurs, his voice raw with emotion. “No more late nights. No more overtime. I’ll cut my hours. Whatever it takes to be here with you.”
“Ken, you don’t have to—”
“I do.” His hands slide under your shirt, his touch firm but gentle as he lifts it over your head and lets it fall to the floor. “I won’t let you feel like you’re second to anything. Ever again. You’re too precious to me. My world. My heart. My wife.”
His lips find your neck, trailing heated kisses down to your collarbone. He moves with a purpose, his hands exploring your skin as if to reacquaint himself with every inch of you. It’s more than physical— it’s a promise.
You tug at his tie, fumbling with the knot until he helps you pull it free and rips off his button-down. Then his hands are on you again, guiding you toward the bedroom.
“Lay back for me,” he murmurs, his voice low and commanding but with an undercurrent of tenderness that makes your pulse race.
You obey, sinking onto the bed as he leans over you, his lips finding yours again. His touch is both reverent and possessive, his movements careful but insistent. Every kiss, every caress feels like an apology and a vow wrapped into one.
He wraps a hang around your throat, squeezing for one fleeting moment before trailing it down your chest, between your breasts, down your stomach, over your pubic bone, and finally under your nightgown to meet your slick riddled cunt.
“Shit,” he hisses, forehead resting against yours while he catches his breath, his fingers slipping back and forth between your folds, teasing at your clit in passes. “My love… I don’t want to waste any time, I just need t’feel you. Normally I’d ea—”
“I know, handsome, s’okay, I’m ready, I can take it.” You reassure him, knowing he was going to apologize for not properly warming you up.
You see, Nanami has always been one for foreplay. He could slurp up your saccharine slick for hours upon hours if you let him, but tonight? Tonight, he just wants to be one with you.
His hand finds one of yours and he intertwines your fingers, his other hand working to free his cock from the suffocating confines of his pants. When it springs free, it’s just throbbing an angry pink, beads of pre forming at the tip now that his dress pants aren't there to absorb them.
He aligns himself with your painfully empty hole, pushing past that first little ring of resistance with a long groan. The grip he has on your hand tightens, his knuckles turning white as he feeds you inch after mind numbing inch of his cock until his tip’s kissing your cervix. But you know his body well enough to know that isn’t it. And so you brace yourself for him to push in to the hilt, his mushroom tip ever so slightly bullying open your cervix as he does so, making you yelp out in both pleasure and pain.
His lips swallow your whines and whimpers, he’s determined to take everything you have to offer and give you more than what he has. The world, if you asked. His free hand finds purchase on your hip and he holds you steady as he starts to roll his hips into yours, passionately. Roughly. Like he’s trying to stuff you full of all of the love he has for you.
You moan out, reaching your own free hand up to cup his cheek, your legs wrapping around his waist, heels digging into his back, effectively telling him you need more. With every thrust after, you can’t help but gasp. You feel him in your lungs stealing every bit of breath you have, reddened leaking tip repeatedly hitting that bullseye that makes your mind go stupid.
“K-Ken, feels s’good! Hah!” You whine out, back arching up and pressing you flush to him. He moves his hand from your hip to wrap his arm around you, effectively holding your bottom half in the air to get deeper inside of you.
“Mine. My wife. My wife, my love, my beautiful, m-my heart.” He’s babbling, burying his head into your neck and pressing hot, wet, open mouthed kisses to it. You feel him slip his hand from yours and instead, he has the top of your head in the palm of his hand, using it to keep you still, but also to anchor himself so he doesn’t let you slip through his fingers.
“You’re going to be such a beautiful mom. Wh—hah, what kind of husband have I been by not trying to give you my babies? We can start now. After I cum riiiiight here.” He babbles, his other hand moving for only a second to press down where your stomach bulges with his thrusts.
And the look in his eyes tells you this is a promise, not just something he’s saying while fucking you. Just like the perfect little thing you are, you cum for him right then, dragging a long and frustrated groan from him.
“Pussy’s always so good for me. Milking me so good, my love…” he shudders as you cum on his throbbing length.
“Ken, f—fuh— fuck! Cum in me! Please, baby, cum in me!” You beg, making him chuckle.
“Oh? You think I’m done? No, I have to make up for lost time. Evert second I missed, I’ll make up for with an equal amount of time spent buried in this beautiful cunt of yours. Understood?”
And oh are you so incredibly fucked.
1K notes · View notes
rmview · 2 months ago
Text
saying they want to break up during a fight, ATEEZ.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
featuring — ateez members x gn!reader ( masterlist )
summary — a reaction of what happens when the ateez boys impulsively tell you they want to break up during an argument!
contents — angst, fighting, some tears, reconciliation.
Tumblr media
hong ☾ joong
the argument had been dragging on for what felt like hours. hongjoong leaned against his desk, rubbing his temples in frustration. “i don’t know what else you want me to say,” he muttered, his voice sharp.
“i want you to stop shutting me out all the time!” you snapped back, your emotions bubbling over.
he clenched his fists, the stress of everything overwhelming him. “maybe we’re better off apart if i’m so bad at this,” he said coldly, the words cutting through the room like a knife.
your face fell, the weight of his statement sinking in. “you… you think we should break up?”
the moment he saw the tears in your eyes, regret hit him like a tidal wave. “wait, no,” he stammered, stepping forward. “that’s not what i meant. i didn’t mean it.”
“then why would you say it?” you whispered, your voice trembling.
hongjoong’s expression softened, guilt washing over him. he reached for your hands, holding them tightly. “because i’m a coward,” he admitted, his voice cracking. “i was scared of failing you, and i said the stupidest thing i could. please, don’t believe it. i need you — i love you. let me fix this. don’t let me lose you over my own stupidity.”
Tumblr media
seong ☾ hwa
seonghwa’s jaw tightened as he tried to keep his composure. “i don’t understand why this keeps happening,” he said, his voice lower than usual but no less intense.
“because you always avoid talking about your feelings!” you retorted, your frustration spilling over.
his lips pressed into a thin line, his usual patience worn down. “maybe that’s just who i am, and if you can’t handle it, maybe we shouldn’t be together!”
the words hung in the air, and both of you froze. you stared at him in shock, unable to process what he’d just said.
seonghwa’s eyes widened as the reality of his words sank in. “no, wait,” he said quickly, stepping toward you. “i didn’t mean that.”
“you think we should break up?” you asked, your voice breaking.
“no,” he said firmly, his voice trembling now. “i said it because i was frustrated, but it’s not what i feel. i’m sorry — i was wrong to push you away like that.” he reached out, his hands cupping your face gently. “i love you too much to let this end over my own stupid mistake. please… forgive me.”
Tumblr media
yun ☾ ho
“why do you always have to make everything such a big deal?” yunho asked, exasperation clear in his tone.
“because it is a big deal to me and you never seem to care!” you shot back, your voice rising.
yunho threw his hands up, the frustration boiling over. “fine! if that’s how you feel, maybe we should just break up!”
the room fell silent, the weight of his words crushing both of you. your lips parted in shock, and his face immediately dropped. “wait,” he said, his voice softer now. “no, i didn’t mean that.”
“you think this is something to just throw away?” you asked, your voice almost shaking.
“no!” he said, panic seeping into his tone as he crossed the distance between you. “i was angry, okay? i wasn’t thinking. i would never want to lose you — not for anything.” he reached for your hands, his grip firm but tender. “i’m sorry. i said it because i didn’t know how else to handle this, but i’ll do better. please don’t give up on me — on us.”
Tumblr media
yeo ☾ sang
yeosang’s arms were crossed, his face unreadable as you vented your frustrations. “you never open up to me,” you said, your voice shaking with emotion.
“i don’t know how to, okay?” he replied evenly, his tone laced with frustration. “so i hope you can understand how frustrating it can be for me when you push me to do so repeatedly. maybe you’d be better off with someone who could.”
the words hit you like a punch to the stomach. “what are you saying?”
“maybe we should break up,” he said quietly, his gaze fixed on the floor.
your heart sank, and silence filled the room. yeosang glanced up, and the devastation on your face shattered his calm facade. “wait,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “that’s not… i didn’t mean that.”
“then why say it?” you asked, tears streaming down your cheeks.
“because i don’t know how to handle this,” he admitted, his voice cracking. “but losing you? that’s not something i can handle either.” he stepped closer, his eyes filled with regret. “i’m sorry. i let my insecurities speak for me, but i don’t want this to end. please, let me make this right.”
Tumblr media
san ☾
san paced the room, his frustration boiling over. “why do we keep having the same argument?” he exclaimed, running a hand through his hair.
“because you never listen to me the first time!” you shot back, your voice almost trembling. “if you cared about me the slightest, we wouldn’t have to be running in circles over the same topic!”
“that’s not fair,” san replied, his voice rising and something flashing in his eyes. “if it bothers you so much and i don’t care the way you want me to, then maybe you should just leave!”
the words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. your eyes widened, and his heart immediately sank as he saw the hurt flash across your face.
“wait,” he said, his voice breaking as the realization hit him. “i didn’t mean that.”
you stepped back, tears welling in your eyes. “you can’t just say something like that, san.”
“i know,” he whispered, stepping closer to you, desperation in his gaze. “i wasn’t thinking — i was angry. but i don’t want to lose you. please, i’ll do better. just… don’t leave me.”
when you didn’t respond, he gently took your hand, holding it tightly. “you’re everything to me,” he said, his voice shaking. “please don’t let one stupid moment ruin us.”
Tumblr media
min ☾ gi
mingi’s voice echoed in the small room, louder than he’d intended. “i’m tired of this, okay? maybe we should just break up!”
your jaw dropped, the sharpness of his words cutting deep. for a moment, you stood frozen, staring at him in disbelief. but when his words registered, you turned around to walk away quietly.
as the weight of what he’d said sank in, mingi’s anger dissolved into panic. “wait,” he said quickly, reaching for you as you turned away. “no, no, no, i didn’t mean that.”
“then why would you say it?” you demanded, too shook to cry. yet.
“i was being stupid,” he admitted, his voice trembling. “i didn’t know how else to say i’m scared — scared of losing you, scared of messing this up. but breaking up? that’s the last thing i want.”
he dropped to his knees, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his forehead against your stomach. “please don’t hate me,” he whispered. “i love you more than anything. i’ll do whatever it takes to fix this.”
Tumblr media
woo ☾ young
“fine! if you don’t trust me, then maybe we shouldn’t be together!” wooyoung snapped, his voice laced with frustration.
your breath caught, his words hitting like a punch to the gut. “is that what you really want?” you asked, your voice barely audible.
as soon as the words left his mouth, regret flooded wooyoung’s expression. “no,” he said, his voice softening instantly. “no, that’s not what i want at all.”
you shook your head, stepping back as you almost felt queasy at the way he suggested splitting so easily. “then why?”
wooyoung reached out, his hands trembling as they rested on your shoulders. “because i’m an idiot,” he admitted, his voice cracking. “i let my emotions get the best of me, and i said something i didn’t mean. please, don’t believe it. you’re the only person i want.”
he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as if afraid you’d disappear. “i’ll spend forever making this up to you,” he whispered against your hair. “just don’t let me lose you.”
Tumblr media
jong ☾ ho
jongho’s voice was low but firm as he spoke. “maybe this just isn’t working anymore,” he said, his tone colder than he intended.
your eyes widened, and the room seemed to still. it took you a few moments to register what he was implying. “you’re breaking up with me?” you asked, disbelief evident in your voice.
as the words left his mouth, jongho’s chest tightened. he saw the hurt and confusion in your expression, and his own heart shattered. “no,” he said quickly, stepping toward you. “that’s not what i want.”
“but you just said —”
“i know what i said,” he interrupted, his voice almost sharp from the panic he felt. “but i didn’t mean it.” he reached for your hand, holding it firmly. “i got scared, okay? scared that i’m not enough for you, that i’ll keep hurting you like this. but losing you? that’s the only thing i can’t handle.”
your eyes blurred with tears as he pulled you into his arms, his grip tight and unwavering. “i’m sorry,” he murmured. “i’ll never say something so stupid again. just give me one more chance to prove how much you mean to me.”
Tumblr media
notes: ooh, this one was sadder to write :') if you guys have angstier ideas, feel free to send them in and don't forget to interact with the fic after reading <3
1K notes · View notes
sanemistar · 2 months ago
Text
contents ★ husband!satoru x wife!reader, fluff, established relationship, mentions of pregnancy (i kinda have a baby fever rn), satoru gojo’s birthday special. 0.7k+ wc. ノ author’s message: since it’s satoru’s birthday today here’s a cute little special drabble for my beloved <33 back ★ jjk m.list
Tumblr media Tumblr media
satoru hasn’t ever really paid any special attention to nor cared about his birthday, it’s been just a regular day to him. nothing special to celebrate, he’d just be a year older. that’s all that is to it.
it’s been like that, until you’d stepped into the picture and changed his life entirely. ever since he got together with you and his birthday has been a day full of surprises and precious memories that he swears to himself he’ll treasure for the rest of his life. it’s all thanks to you that satoru now has a reason to look forward to his birthday every year.
satoru is away on a quick mission, so you decide to take the chance of your husband coming back home late tonight and make his birthday cake yourself. since it’s the first time you celebrate his birthday as his wife, so you wanted to make something special this year. you’re currently in the kitchen, preparing the ingredients and the things you need to make the cake. you carefully place everything on the counter as you start working right away.
once you’re done with the cake, you place it on the table before you start hanging the decorations on the wall and setting the mood. the theme is obviously blue because it’s the color you associate him with the most. when you’re finished with that, you quickly get yourself ready and dress up as you wait for your husband to get back home. you can’t help but feel so excited to see him when he gets back because you have a special gift for him this year, you’re announcing your pregnancy. you’ve only found out about it just recently so you thought his birthday would be the perfect timing for the announcement.
not too long after you’ve gotten dressed you hear the jingling sound of satoru’s keys, signaling his arrival. luckily, you manage to turn off the lights last minute.
“baby? you here?” he calls for you, but you don’t respond. he keeps looking around trying to find you when you turn on the lights, appearing in front of him with the cake held in your hands.
“happy birthday toru!” you shout enthusiastically with a cheeky smile on your face. and satoru just couldn’t help but laugh at the cute little act of yours. he thanks you before he approaches you and gives your forehead a kiss as he places his hands on your waist.
the two of you sit down and eat the cake together.
“you know, i made it myself.” you say proudly
“so that’s why this year’s cake is so special. thanks, babe. you’re the best.” he replies before taking another bite.
“the cake might not be the only special thing of the day.” you ominously tell him. you can clearly see the slight confusion and anticipation on his face.
“what do you mean?” he asks curiously, waiting to know what you’re talking about. you take his hand and place it on your stomach.
“next year it won’t be just you and me, a little one is joining us.” you grab his other hand and entwine it with your own. “i’m pregnant, honey.” you happily announce your pregnancy to your husband.
“wait wait.. for real? babe, are you sure? am i gonna be a dad?” he asks, clearly still shocked by the sudden announcement. you nod as you bring him the ultrasound pictures of your baby as a confirmation.
you’re standing there right in front of satoru, watching how he’s reacting while eagerly waiting for his response. his reaction is a bit delayed due to his brain taking some time to process the news but once it hits him he lets go of your hand only to pull you close to him in a tight hug as he spins you around.
“this is the best thing i could ever ask for.. you have no idea how much i’ve been waiting for this, to have a family with you.” he says emotionally as a few happy tears escape from his eyes.
“you’ll be the best dad ever, toru. i love you.” you rest your hands on the side of his cheeks as you gently wipe away his fallen tears. he smiles softly, his hands placed on your waist as he leans closer to you. faces are only a few inches apart.
“i love you more than anything, babe. thanks for always making my birthday a day worth celebrating, i wouldn’t have it any other way.” he says before his lips capture yours in a passionate, loving kiss.
satoru is already looking forward to celebrating his next birthday with you and his little one.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝜗𝜚 taglist: @unriding @lxnarphase @sylusdoll @itachiiwrites @itoshivy @17020 @creamflix @luv-lies @suguru-getos
1K notes · View notes
teaboot · 3 months ago
Note
I feel like if you're using a lot of disposable plastic bags in your day to day life, you've gotta do something sustainable to make up for it. Like using bamboo toilet paper or eco friendly cat litter or something, yknow
Honestly I exaggerate for comedic effect, while I DO routinely use ziplock bags to hold spaghetti I cook maybe once a month and the bag itself is usually for freezer storage. I actually throw out maybe one bag a week? I DO hate washing plates and tupperware and junk but that usually just means I eat sandwiches without a plate.
I agree though that needless waste should be avoided, and I do avoid it- biodegradable bags and recyclables, empty butter tubs used to store leftovers, etc.
This said, though, not applicable necessarily for myself but for a lot of others- I feel that it's importat to remember that there are many people who legitimately NEED things like plastic straws, or catheters, or pre-packaged foods
And the idea that that's a moral failing that individuals need to personally make up for when a single billionaire blows out more CO2 in a long weekend than I will in my whole life on a superjet meet-cute in the Bolivian rainforest between humvee drag races funded by the river-polluting textiles plants they planted in a third world country to avoid EPA laws and give an entire village stillbirths and stomach cancer is an idea that those very same bigwigs have spent a LOT of time and money investing in planting in the public psyche.
Like- Glass bottles are infinitely recyclable, so why are so many drinks in plastic now? Loads of drinks manufacturers used to buy them back and clean them for re-use, so why did they stop? If they chose to make something out of a limited and environmentally irresponsible material, why is it my failing to track down a correct process of disposal for them? What if there are none in my area? Do I lobby for more recycling plants in my area? Do I set aside some of my limited time outside the pain factory of my job- which I have more than one of, thanks to rising costs of things just like that drink I just emptied- to properly dispose of this company's waste FOR them?
Say coca-cola just rolled up to your town and started dumping millions of empty plastic bottles in the street, going, "wow, you should really think about building and staffing a recycling depot, it would be really shameful of you to just put these in the trash." When companies purposefully use materials with limited lifespans- because yes, even plastic can only be reused so many times- and tell you it's your own fault if it harms the environment- that's essentially what they're doing, just with more steps.
Yes, its important to be as environmentally concious as we can in our day to day life, but responsible sustainability is not catholicism. We don't get good boy points from our lord and savior Captain Planet every time the average low-income household gathers together to hold hands and repent for a single-use plastic that allows them to access something they need.
Entire families could eat trees and shit dead lithium batteries for years and still not do as much damage to the planet as an average dye plant or braindead celebrity does in a week just for fun, and I'm mad about it
...this went on longer than intended.
TL/DR: DO recycle and minimize waste, but don't beat yourself up over the little waste you can't avoid, and follow the money.
EDIT: Part 2
1K notes · View notes
lovelivision · 4 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
GHOSTLY ROMANCE ♡
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: fushiguro toji/reader
𝐖𝐂: 8k
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: when it becomes blatantly obvious your house is being haunted, the only thing there is for you to do is coexist but what do you do when that ghostly presence haunting your house begins haunting your heart ??
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ only, smut, swearing, making out, obsessive! toji, ghost! toji, slight perv! toji, toji has a big dick, dirty talk, fingering, voyeurism (?), p in v sex, squirting, creampie, f!reader, reader referred to as 'woman', i think that's all ♡
Tumblr media
As of late, you’re beginning to have a sneaking suspicion that your house is haunted, and you aren’t really sure how to react. Often times, you’ll find things aren’t where you left them, some objects are moved just slightly of where they were, and other things are found in completely different rooms.
Sometimes when you go to lock your doors and windows for the night, you find it’s already been done. Innocuous and for the most part these are things you could brush off as you being absent minded, the kicker comes when you start seeing a figure out the corner of your eye or in a passing reflection.
Ignoring it all has been your go to, deciding it’s best to just pretend it’s not happening, and you would continue to keep doing so but your sleep is getting interrupted now and if there is anything you don’t get in between, it’s you and your sleep.
The dreams you’ve been having have started to wander into the obscure territory of some man you don’t recognise living in your house. He walks around like he owns the place, locking doors, closing curtains. It’s not particularly scary but it is unsettling and leaves you feeling unrested, like you didn’t sleep much at all.
Now, as you’re trying to get some well-deserved rest, something goes bump in the night, and you just know it’s that stupid man haunting your house. Frustratedly, you kick the covers off your body and stomp down the hall to where you think the sound originated from.
Arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently, you wait for something, anything, but of course nothing comes. This ghost, entity, or whatever, that’s haunting you started off as easy to ignore and now it’s pissing you off greatly, you just want some damn sleep.
“You got me here, you got me out of bed so you must want something,” your foot continues to tap, increasing pace with your bad mood.
The room continues to be blanketed by the quiet you so badly wanted while you were drifting to sleep, “You’re so rude, haunting me with stupid dreams and moving my shit…” you’re grumbling to yourself, “…haven’t slept well in over a week and now I can’t even get to sleep!”
Still, the room is filled by the deafening silence that usually lingers in your house at this hour, “Great… and now I’m talking to myself, I’m going fucking crazy.”
As you turn to leave the room, you bump into something that feels as stiff as a board. You take a few steps back at it and you’re met with someone’s chest. The person in front of you leans down until they meet your face, his tone deep and monotone when he lets out a low, “Boo.”
It almost feels like the blood drains out of your body at the sight of him and before you have time to really process, your hand is reaching back and up to give him a hard slap right across the face. A small yelp leaving you at it, the smack resounding throughout the otherwise quiet house.
When you draw your hand back, it’s to cover your mouth as you gasp at just how hard you seemed to have slapped him, apology tumbling from your lips and you can only really say it’s because of how shocked you are by the force you used, “I’m so sorry, oh my God, that sounded really bad… did that hurt?”
He’s stoic for a moment before cracking a smile and chuckling at your shocked apology, “Not quite the reaction I was looking for.”
“Sorry! I didn’t mean to hit you…” you trail off, suddenly regretting all your apologies, “Hey! You’re the one who should be apologising to me.”
He’s still far too amused for your liking, “What for? You’re the one who hit me.”
“You quite frankly deserved it,” your brows furrow as you eye him over, you expected something more… ghoulish but he appears to just be some man.
“I don’t think so, I’ve done nothing to you…” he’s talking but you’re not really paying attention, confused by his appearance and, honestly, existence.
Your finger moves towards him, poking at his chest, something you think you shouldn’t be able to do. He’s firm, obviously corporeal, it’d surprise you more if you hadn’t just slapped him as hard as you did.
You’re lost in your thoughts as you continue to poke at him. He cuts himself off to grab your wrist, “–What are you doing?”
“Are you just some guy? Are you just some man in my house right now?” You’re beginning to freak out, much more amenable to the idea of a ghost in your house over some stranger, “I have to call the cops…” you try tugging away, quickly growing more fearful.
He’s rolling his eyes at you like you’re overreacting, “Calm down.”
Your eyes are big and round as you look up at him, scared out of your mind as the idea of some man in your house settles in your bones, “No, I think I’m going to keep being scared.”
“If it makes you feel better, I’m not human…” he squints at you, “Anymore.”
Rightly sceptical when you utter back, “I don’t know if I believe you…”
He seems annoyed at your unwillingness to take him at his word, sighing as he turns and walks out of the room… through the wall. You wait a moment for him to come back but he doesn’t, you’re left in the room alone, wondering if that little interaction actually happened or if you’ve finally lost it.
Another moment passes, waiting, just in case he appears again before you resign yourself to the fact that you’re beginning to hallucinate from lack of sleep. Taking a deep breath, you steady yourself and walk back to your room, only to be met with the sight of him laying leisurely on your bed.
“I’ve gone insane,” you mumble to yourself, “I’m losing my fucking mind in this house alone.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re sane, from what I’ve seen anyways,” He shrugs, “A little spacey but otherwise.”
His words have you glaring at him, “You ever been told you’re annoying?”
“Not for a long time, no,” his smirk is lopsided.
You approach the foot of your bed, looking at him with your arms crossed, “Right… okay, well, you’re annoying.”
His own arms are supporting his head, clearly very comfortable in your bed, “You’ve only spoken to me for a few minutes, I might grow on you.”
A scowl overtakes your face, “I really doubt it.”
His smile feels condescending, “I think it’s your only option, either you get used to me or you move out because this was my house first, sorry doll.”
“I’m still not fully convinced you’re not just some guy in my house,” how are you meant to tell if you’ve gone insane? Maybe you should book a doctor’s appointment.
“I technically am…” he tilts his head at you, “I’m just not alive.”
There are so many questions you have, and you aren’t even sure if you’d believe any of his answers, “If you’re a ghost why can I touch you?”
Stretching out slightly, he groans before answering, “Because I let you, how else would I be moving your shit around?”
“So, you are moving my things around!” You’re pointing at him like some huge mystery has been solved.
He looks at you like it should be obvious at this point that it was him, taking the wind out of your sails with a single look.
Coughing slightly, you cross your arms again, trying to recover from the slight embarrassment you’re currently feeling, “Why are you touching my things and why show yourself now?”
“You yelled at me to show myself,” he rolls his neck, “Thought I’d be polite and give an introduction.”
“Some introduction… you didn’t even give me your name,” you pinch the bridge of your nose, feeling a headache coming on, “You only answered one of my questions.”
A soft sigh leaves him, like this whole conversation is becoming tedious, “I get bored.”
“Really? That’s your answer? I’ve been wondering if I’m crazy or if my house is haunted and even losing sleep over stupid dreams of your stupid face and you’re telling me it’s because you’re bored.”
He purses his lips, like he’s trying to hide a smile, “Pretty much.”
“Get out.”
“What?”
“You heard me,” your hands are on your hips, prominent frown plastered on your face, “Get out.”
“I can’t technically leave,” he tries to reason with you.
“I don’t care, I know you can disappear and leave me alone so do that,” you’re so tired and cranky, you just want to go to sleep and pretend this never happened, “I want to sleep, and I want it to be peaceful so leave me alone and get out!”
“So bossy,” he grumbles as he gets up, leaning down into your space as he walks past you, “I like that in a woman.”
You fight the involuntary shiver that wants to run down your spine, beyond pissed off at Casper the annoying ghost. Why did your house have to be haunted? Why couldn’t you live a peaceful and normal life? These are all things you wonder as you crawl into bed, determined to get some sleep tonight.
ִֶָ𓂃 ༘࣪࿐
In the morning, you think what had happened last night was some obscure dream, and you’d probably go on thinking that way if your ghostly house guest didn’t appear in front of you while you’re in the middle of breakfast.
Your spoon clatters to your bowl with a gasp, “Don’t!” You sigh loudly, “Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?” He leans back into the chair across from you.
“Don’t just appear,” you grumble to yourself, “Almost thought I had made up all of last night.” So close to having a normal life, you can see it now floating out of your grasp.
“Sorry, doll, I’m very real and I very much live here.”
That earns him a scoff, “You’re a freeloader.”
“Excuse me?” He leans forward, elbows resting on the table.
You repeat it for him slower, “You. Are. A. Freeloader.”
“I heard you,” his eye almost twitches.
Leaning back in your chair, you cross your arms, looking away from him and out the window, “Then don’t act like you didn’t.”
“I could kill you,” he threatens.
You don’t feel inclined to take him seriously, “So could my neighbour, you’re not special.” Your gaze is fixed out the window, watching said neighbour walking to collect his mail. When you turn back to your unwanted companion his glare is pointed and very clearly unhappy which only has you rolling your eyes at him, “You’d really kill me because I called you a freeloader?”
A quiet hum leaves him, “I’m considering it.”
“Drama queen,” it’s murmured but you know he heard it, especially if his growing scowl is anything to go off.
“Shouldn’t you be more scared or something?”
Your eyes squint at him, leaning over the table slightly as you provoke, “Oh, I bet you’d love that.”
“I would actually,” he almost sounds exasperated which only has you growing amused.
You decide to try bargaining with him, “Listen, if you’re gonna freeload here the least you can do is stay out of my way.”
“I liked you better last night when you were scared.”
You take a mouthful of your breakfast, pointing at him with your spoon when you reply, “Well, I liked you better a few months ago when it was significantly easier to ignore your presence.”
It’s quiet, no reply coming from him, leaving it up to you to continue the conversation if you want answers, “What do you even want? Because if you really do plan on killing me I’ll tell you now that the next person who lives here will not be as cute as I am.”
He deadpans at your joke, “You’re hilarious.”
“I know,” you flick your head like you’re flipping luxurious hair.
Already seemingly sick of you when he grumbles, “I already regret showing myself to you.”
“Good, this is much more of an ordeal for me you know? Not only do I know ghosts exist now but there is some guy in my house all the time, how am I meant to go on with my daily life?”
“Not really my problem,” he brushes off your concern.
Being honest, you say, “I don’t like you.”
To which he returns with a big grin, “I’ll grow on you.”
ִֶָ𓂃 ༘࣪࿐
You wish so badly that he didn’t, but he does, he grows on you. It’s nice coming home to someone, having someone to talk to while you eat or do mundane chores. It’s been a few months now and you thought he would be more of a bother, but you think you might be the one bothering him.
It’s funny how you didn’t realise how lonely you were until you finally had someone to spend time with. Early on he told you his name, Toji, he told you he used to live here, and that he died in the house. He still hasn’t disclosed to you how he died, and you don’t want to intrude by asking so you don’t. He’s still quite young so you imagine it wasn’t by natural causes which only deters you from wanting to probe for any more information from him.
If you’re being honest with yourself, you’d recognise that you’re beginning to crush on a ghost but since that seems like something so far out of the realm of ever possibly happening, you squash down the feelings. And when that doesn’t work, you try avoiding him, which is not exactly a fool proof plan when he’s the ghost haunting your house who doesn’t need to sleep.
For the third weekend in a row, you’re sneaking into your own house late, having been out all night with friends just to avoid spending the whole day with Toji. It’s his fault though! He’s hot and also a huge flirt and he makes your heart race, and none of these thoughts are holy so you decided to just avoid him altogether.
Kicking your shoes off at the door, you sneak through the house and into your room, thinking you’ve successfully changed and gotten into bed without him noticing. Victory short lived when he appears next to you on your bed, his weight causing the mattress to dip suddenly.
You scrabble for a second, not expecting the shift, body falling into his. Sheepishly, you look up at him, hand pressed to his chest trying to give yourself some space to think, not used to this proximity. You purposefully keep your distance from him, and it feels like he purposefully gets in yours.
He’s quick to get to the point, “Where were you?”
“Out with some friends…” Hesitance clear in your answer.
“Again,” It’s a question but it doesn’t really sound like one.
“…Yeah.”
His eyes scan your face intently and it has you shying away from him, “You’re being odd,” he states abruptly.
Immediate response being defensiveness, “Because I’m going out with my friends?”
“No, that’s not it, it’s the frequency, you used to spend most weekends home alone.”
Still, you can’t get used to how he knows these things about you, “Okay we’re just gonna ignore that you know that about me.”
Again, he doesn’t beat around the bush, “Don’t change the topic, you’ve been avoiding me.”
Gaze averting his as you stumble out a small, “That’s not true.”
His eyes meet yours with a pointed look, clearly not believing your half assed lie, “Come on, doll, if I’ve done something to upset you I’d prefer you just say it.”
“You’ve not done anything,” you jump to assure him, not wanting him to feel bad for no reason. “You’re the best ghost anyone could ask to haunt their house.”
Ignoring your attempt at humour he pushes for more, “Then what is it?”
An awkward pause shared between you as you try to think of an excuse, “Uhm… My friends… have just been wanting to see me more is all, it has nothing to do with you…”
“Mhm…” you can tell he doesn’t believe you, but he can’t go much further than this, he was as blunt as he could be and hit a brick wall. “Well, I want to see you more too.”
You roll your eyes gently at that, ignoring the excitement his words illicit, “Toji, we live together.”
Expression sour when he retorts, “It doesn’t feel like it lately.”
It’s cute how he’s almost pouting, it’d be cuter if you didn’t feel completely awful for ghosting him. You still get to see each other throughout the day but you work during the week, and you haven’t been spending much free time with him lately, often opting for going out instead. If avoiding him like this is going to keep making him feel bad you don’t want to keep doing it.
Taking the safe option, you choose to make the time spent together productive, “I’ll be home this weekend… I have a bunch of laundry to do though so it might not be fun.”
His smile is crooked, “Alright… got my eyes on you though, doll,” he means it in a light-hearted way, but you think you’ve actually hurt him.
“Okay…” you wait a moment for him to leave but he doesn’t, you’re still too close to him and he’s not moving. The silence in the room deafening as you can only look at him and wait for his next move.
When he doesn’t say anything, you prompt, “Toji… are you gonna leave?”
“Do you want me to?” His gaze is on your lips, hand reaching to cradle your face and just when you think he might lean in to kiss you, he pecks the top of your head, “Night.” It’s the last thing he says before he disappears into thin air.
Your heart feels like it might explode, beating a mile a minute at how he seemed to almost kiss you. The disappointment that settled in you when he didn’t uncomfortable, were you just reading into things or did he actually want to kiss you.
The covers get pulled up over your head as you grumble to yourself, how the hell are you meant to sleep now… he’s confusing you and it’s so unfair. You’d probably get over your feelings for him if he didn’t also show interest in you like this, he’s giving you hope, and it doesn’t feel good.
ִֶָ𓂃 ༘࣪࿐
Ever since the night Toji almost kissed you, it’s all you’ve been able to think about, almost operating like a zombie as you go through the motions at home and at work. Every time you saw him it felt like your skin was on fire, like you might spontaneously burst into flames.
This week has been especially trying because it seems like he actually has been watching you closer than usual. Normally he would give you some more space, but it was almost like every time you were in one of the main areas of the house, he was also there. He’s not the type you’d peg for being clingy but then again, you didn’t take your house to be the haunted kind so what do you know.
Getting lost in your thoughts while fiddling with your poor-quality sink isn’t the best course of action, but it doesn’t seem like you’re making any good choices in life right now. While trying to tighten the faucet by hand, it decides to punish you for being absent minded and sprays water all down your front.
Quickly, you rush to stop the water, all kinds of expletives leave you as your hands slip over the metal. When the water finally stops your hands grab the edge of the counter, slumping against it.
A shiver runs down your spine before you hear him speak, “You really should pay more attention to what you’re doing.”
“It’s not my fault, this sink sucks!” If you had slightly less emotional regulation you might stomp your feet about it all.
He laughs at your frowny face, “I always meant to get it replaced.”
Turning to face him, you huff, “This sink is the bane of my existence.”
“It’s not all bad,” his eyes track down your front, “I did get to see you in a wet shirt because of it.”
“You’re unbearable,” you groan.
“And yet you’ve never tried to exorcise me.”
“You know what, that’s a good option to keep in mind, thanks,” you smile sarcastically at him before wandering down the hall, muttering to yourself, “Well… at least it’s laundry day today I guess…”
Toji is hot on your trail, not speaking, just following you around the house as you collect all your laundry. If you had to describe it, you’d probably say he was hovering, like he’s waiting for you to crack and tell him why you’ve been avoiding him.
You would love to talk to him about what’s bothering you but how exactly does one go about telling the hot ghost that you coexist with that you want to jump his bones, there must be a wiki how page for that online somewhere. The absurdity of the situation is almost enough to make you laugh, almost.
“You in there, doll?” Toji’s voice shocks you back down to Earth.
Dropping the shirt you’d been holding for too long into the washer as you reply, “Hmm? Yeah… I’m here, what’s up?”
“You know you’ve always been a little spacey, but it’s been worse lately.” His head tilts at you, like he’s observing your behaviours.
Throwing a glance his way as you refute, “I am not spacey.”
He looks away from you like he’s avoiding engaging with you on that topic any further, “I’m just asking if you’re okay, Something on your mind?”
“Nothing that concerns you,” dragging out the word as you squint at him.
The exasperated tone he uses is not lost on you, “Then why have you been avoiding me?”
“Didn’t we establish last week that I haven’t been?” Ignoring his stare as you continue to load the washing machine.
“No, we established that you’re lying about not avoiding me.”
The persistence he displays is almost admirable, “You’re annoying.”
“So are you but less so lately,” response quick on his tongue.
“Maybe I’ve reflected on my previous ways and decided to be a better person.” He scoffs at that, and you turn to face him, looking him in the eyes, “What do you want from me?”
“I just wanna know why you don’t spend time with me anymore,” he leans into your space, grin wide and taunting, “You get scared or something?”
“Of you?” brow quirking at him, “Please,” eye roll following your words.
He sighs at you, backing out of your space, “You’re unbearable.”
“That’s my line,” you shoot back, focusing on your laundry again.
A quick hand snatches the garment you’re holding out of your grasp, his attempt at getting your attention back on him. It works because you’re facing him fully now, “You’re childish.”
“Woah,” he looks at what he’s holding like he’s only just noticed what he had grabbed, “These are cute.”
If the ground could swallow you whole, you wish it would happen now because why is your unwanted roommate holding a pair of your panties while smiling at you like the cat that got the canary.
“Toji,” you warn.
He hums back at you, almost indulgent, “Yes, doll?”
“Give them back.”
Dangling your underwear in between the two of you by a single digit, he considers, “I don’t know… I think I like these; I might keep them.”
The expression on your face incredulous, “And what? Wear them?”
“I’m sure I’ll find some use for them,” suggestion written all over his face in a way you wish you weren’t attracted to.
“Toji.” A second warning.
Again, his reply is the same, “Yes, doll?”
“They’re dirty.”
“Really?” He looks to them, “Want me to check?” Hand bringing them close to his face before you snatch them away.
“Don’t be gross!” You chastise him, chucking the panties into the machine with more force than necessary.
Your skin feels hot from embarrassment, how can he be so shameless? It’s uncomfortably quiet in the laundry room as you silently stew while looking down into the washer.
Toji sounds tentative when he speaks, “Are you mad?”
He’s met with an immediate glare at his stupid question, “Well I’m not happy!” Brows pinched and feeling like your head is about to explode when you struggle to get out, “How– how can you be so… so? So shameless.”
“Being dead doesn’t hurt,” he says casually.
You can’t tell if that’s an attempt at humour or if he’s being serious but if you had to guess you’d say it’s a little of both, “I can’t believe I’ve been crushing on you, you’re so embarrassing. What does that say about me? attracted to a shameless ghost who does nothing but embarrass me.”
Your foot has started tapping against the floor with your frustrations, not even registering the blunder you made about outing your crush on him… you know, the thing you’ve been actively avoiding him over just to keep secret.
It’s not until he’s leaning into your space and asking, “You been crushing on me, doll?” That you realise the mistake you’d made.
“What?” You heard him perfectly fine. Only feigning ignorance in an attempt to think of a convincing cover.
There’s pride oozing from him, his grin growing by the second, “You just said–”
“–No, I didn’t,” there is no way to save this and so you fall back on blatantly lying.
He’s revelling in how flustered you are and it’s making it worse, “No, no, I heard you loud and clear. You’ve been crushing on me.”
Your hands move to either side your head, covering your ears as you try to block out what he’s saying, “I can’t hear you; I don’t know what you’re saying.”
Despite your actions, you can hear him perfectly. So, you hear him crystal clear when he borderline taunts, “You have a crush on the ghost haunting your house!”
You don’t say anything back, only staring at him as you wear all your embarrassment on your face.
His smile lessens, replaced by a kinder one, “Is that why you been avoiding me?”
Slowly turning to face him, you drop your hands and give a small nod, feeling all kinds of uncomfortable right now. The fact his immediate reaction was to be amused and prideful has you confused on just what he’s thinking about, does he only find your feelings funny? Does he not take them seriously? Or maybe you’d been overthinking it… it is just a crush after all.
You feel a little guilty over how your feelings have been making you act. He’s literally stuck with you and you’re making it awkward all because you find him attractive, “I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable… but it’s just a crush, I’ll get over it.”
You meant to offer him some kind of relief in saying that, but it doesn’t seem to give him any. A low hum coming from him as he moves in closer. Bending at the waist so he can eye you carefully, getting so close that you avoid his gaze, face hot at his proximity.
“What are you–”
“–You’d just get over me?” He asks. You can’t decipher his intent.
Not able to help the way you fumble over yourself when answering honestly, “I– well… I mean… eventually? Right?”
Almost doubtful when he counters, “And you think I’m just gonna let that happen?”
The way in which he says it takes you aback, eyes meeting his when you utter a succinct, “Stop.”
A singular brow raises at you, “Stop what?”
“Stop flirting with me,” it’s unfair and only serving to confuse you further.
“Why?”
Expression somewhere between a pout and scowl when you grumble, “You are the most exasperating man I have ever had the displeasure of trying to have a conversation with.”
“And yet you have a crush on me,” his eyebrows raise.
Swapping back to denial is your solution, “I just changed my mind; I don’t have a crush on you anymore.”
Still, he flirts, “And there’s nothing I can do to change your mind?”
“Nope,” you pop the word at him, “All my feelings vanished just like that.”
“That’s a damn shame,” he’s smirking as he looks at your lips before flicking back to your eyes. One of his hands reach to cradle the side of your face, mouth hovering overs yours, so close to kissing you but ultimately not moving any more than that.
Your eyes had closed at the way he leaned in but when you don’t feel his lips on yours you open them to see the way he’s looking down his nose at you, smug smile ever present on his stupid face.
“You’re being cruel,” and he his, he knows it too, it’s entirely purposeful on his behalf and you can only take so much.
His thumb brushes your lower lip gently, still so unbearably close when he asks, “How so?”
“Let me go.” You huff at him, “You’re so distracting, go haunt a different part of the house. I need to finish my laundry.”
“Why are you so stubborn?” His words are accompanied by an eyeroll.
“Why are you so–”
You’re cut off abruptly by his lips colliding with yours, clearly uninterested in further back and forth. Especially since it seems like you’re not willing to give up and just tell him you want him to kiss you. When you’re not immediately pulling away, he’s moving his body closer to yours, other hand large on your back as he pulls you towards him.
Lips so much more careful than you would’ve expected of him. Searching and relentless but not rough, not yet anyways. Your hands move to his shoulders and grip him, giving into him completely, his kiss taking your breath away.
The hand on the side of your face is manoeuvring you how he likes, wanting to deepen the kiss. Tongue licking into your mouth, it sends shivers down your spine, involuntary moan leaving you.
You aren’t really registering it but he’s walking you back, sandwiching you between the washing machine and his large body. Hand previously on the small of your back now on your hip, pulling at your flesh. Then slipping it under your shirt and resting against your skin, his touch eliciting goose bumps.
He tilts your head back and trails his lips down your neck, nipping at you as he goes. Your pants filling the room, small and quiet moans mixed in with your breaths. You can hardly think, too focused on how it feels to have him touching you.
Suddenly gasping a moan when he bites at your neck a little harder than you were expecting, your thighs rubbing together at it. His movements grow more frenzied, lips back on yours in full force, tongue in your mouth depriving you of your air.
So much so that you have to push him back by his shoulders, chest moving rapidly as you catch your breath. Eyes wet and glassy when you look up at him, brows pulled up as you struggle to focus in on his face.
“Sorry, I got a bit carried away,” he’s staring at you, awestruck by the stupid look on your face.
You ignore his apology, “Kiss me again? Please?”
“How can I refuse when you ask like that?” The answer is he couldn’t, not when your eyes are all glassy from his lips.
The kiss is messy and despite the coolness of him, hot. Your arms are wrapped around his neck now, pulling him down into you. Both his hands on your hips, playing with the waistband of your pants, fingers tickling against your skin.
Parting to speak against your ear, “You gonna let me touch you, doll?”
Nodding at him, “Yeah…”
He hums at you thoughtfully, “You crushing on me again or am I imagining the hearts in your eyes right now?”
“You ruin everything– ah–” words interrupted by his hand slipping into the front of your pants and underwear.
His fingers slip through your folds, tracing your clit softly,  “Am I still ruining everything?”
“Oh!– noo, no you’re not,” your words are breathless as you shake your head, not wanting him to stop.
“You know…” his grin is sly as he speaks to you lowly, “You’re awfully wet for someone you don’t have a crush on.”
Wanting him to stop talking, you turn your head and kiss him. Your tongue sliding into his mouth, the kiss desperate and chaotic. Lips connected by a string of saliva when you pull back.
Your words are saturated in sarcasm but completely true, “I have a big fat crush on you, Toji, are you happy now?”
“Ecstatic,” he smiles brightly, finger probing at your entrance, “In fact, I might just reward you.” As he finishes his sentence, his digit is pushing into you, biting his lip at how you gasp against him. “You know, you’re really cute like this, all breathless and struggling to take a finger.”
“Such a mean ghost,” you sulk.
“You’re meaner, avoiding me all because of a stupid crush,” his finger crooks inside you, almost knocking you over, “If you’d just told me about it we could’ve had fun so much sooner, you been depriving me of this sweet cunt.”
Your legs are feeling shaky under you, “How was I supposed to– hah– know?”
“I flirt with you relentlessly and follow you around all day like a damn puppy and you think I don’t wanna fuck you?” He chuckles humourlessly, “Shit, doll, if you needed it to be more obvious all you had to do was tell me.” A second finger joins his first, scissoring them to open you up, “I’d drop to my knees just to please you.”
His words make you dizzy, the idea of him on his knees and lapping at your pussy damn near capable of killing you. Your stomach flutters with butterflies at how willing he is to make you feel good.
He can feel the way your cunt clenches down on his fingers, his chest squeezing with how reactive you are to him, “Oh? You liked that, doll? Like the idea of me licking your pussy?”
“I need you, please,” your lip quivers, shudders running through your body at how his thumb rubs over your clit.
A single peck is pressed to your wobbly lower lip, “You already got me.”
“Noo– oh God–” You’re trying so hard to get your words out but he’s touching you so insistently, his fingers reaching all the perfect spots so effortlessly you might go blind. Your head rolls back as you gasp out, nails clawing down the front of his chest.
Slurred words and jumbled moans leaving you as his hand speeds up. It’s an active effort to get out, “Wan– want your– ah! dick, please.”
He laughs like he’s had the wind knocked out of him, “Only ever need to ask.” His hand is drawing back from your core, a pathetic whimper leaving you at the loss. “Turn around for me, doll.”
You do as he says, turning around to face the washing machine, one of his hands reaching forward to shut the lid. His body moves in close behind you, his front pressing into your back, firm erection against your ass.
His lips brush against your ear, “Hold on and bend over.”
“You’re so demanding,” you mutter as you do what he says.
He counters, “And you’re so obeying.” You can feel the air of his smugness radiating from behind you.
Both his hands tug at your pants, slowly pulling them down your body until they drop onto the floor. You can’t help but feel exposed and impatient, your panties stuck to your core with the arousal that drips from you. Toji’s finger creeps into the gusset, pulling them back before letting go, teasing you for his own enjoyment.
Straightening up, you try to turn to face him and tell him off for being a massive tease but he’s too close to you. An arm is wrapping around your front as his head tucks into your neck, “You going somewhere?”
“I thought since you seem to be indecisive I’d leave while you think about your next move,” you bite back.
He’s pushing your front back down, “You always this impatient?”
“You always this big a tease?” Your hands reach out to hold the machine again.
“Always got something to say don’t you?”
“Toji, I’m so wet and needy and if you don’t do something soon I’m going to finish without you and I’ll make you watch.”
Quietly and under his breath, he utters, “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
Before you get a chance to spin around and question him on that further, he’s pulled his pants down and your panties to the side. His cock head stretching you open, your fist slams down into the washer as you struggle to accommodate his size. Stuttered gasps and whines leaving you as he presses forward inch by inch. One of your hands has to reach back and rest on his pelvis, stopping him, needing a moment to catch your breath and get used to taking his size.
You pant out to him, “Wh– what did you mean?”
“Fffuck–” he’s struggling to maintain focus when you’re gripping him that tightly, “What?”
You’re trying to control your breathing as you ask again, “What did you mean by ‘wouldn’t be the first time’?”
“Doll, I’ve been in this house since long before you moved in,” he leans down to you, his lips brushing against your ear, “I’ve seen you fucking yourself with your toys.”
Involuntary whimper leaving you, your hips rutting back into him, “You’re such a perv.”
“Oh yeah, the fuckin biggest,” he groans at how your pussy flutters around him, “Loved when you would come home high and dry from a date, your cunt drenching your dildo with just how needy you were, squirming in your bed while fucking yourself.”
You hate how turned on you are at the thought of him watching you masturbate, “Move, please.” Hand moving away, giving him room.
He’s drawing back only to fuck his hips forwards, “Hnnn– and now I get to see how you coat my cock, such a messy fucking thing.”
Toji’s hips falter at how your cunt sucks him in, so greedy and sopping wet that it’s making his head spin. He can’t tell if it’s been too long or if you’ve got the best pussy he’s ever fucked but it’s probably somewhere in between and he can’t be bothered to think too hard about it right now.
“Is it– hah– is it nearly in?” You whine back at him, not sure how much more of him you can fit.
He’s steadily rocking his cock into you, filling you more each time he thrusts forward, “Not– not quite.”
Maybe you should let him take the lead with this but you’re impatient and horny and he’s taking too long and you just want him so deep inside you that you feel him in your guts. So, in your fuzzy brain, you decide it’s a good idea to fuck your hips back as he moves forward. He bottoms out, his pelvis slapping into your ass but you’re left breathless, squirming as you grapple with how full of him you are.
“Oh my God– what– why are you so– hng– why are you big?” Tears spring to the corners of your eyes, feeling so completely overwhelmed. Pussy twitching around him as your legs shake.
He can’t believe you’d done that, letting out a long-drawn-out groan like he’d been gut punched, “Fuck– greedy fucking thing, you couldn’t– hnn– couldn’t wait for it? Was trying to take it easy on you and your tight little hole.”
His cock is jerking violently inside you, so unbelievably turned on. Your cunt snug around his dick nearly has him believing this is his heaven and you’re his own personal angel. He’d take it for truth if the sight of your hole stretched around him weren’t so sinful, your panties tugged to the side and soaked.
His voice is strained when he checks in, “You good, doll?”
“Mhm, yeah I– mmph– I’m good,” you’re giving him the go ahead, punctuating your words with your hips wiggling back into him. It almost knocks him out, seeing the way your ass jiggles.
His hands are gripping your hips tight, holding you still as he draws back. His first thrust ruthless, forcing you forward, brain taking a second to realise that the loud moan reverberating in the room was you.
“You’re gonna be the second death of me,” he says through stifled grunts.
You are completely lacking in any kind of retort to throw back at him, only able to dumbly hum at him so he knows you heard him. The way he’s driving his dick into you has you twitching and scratching at the lid of the washer, almost embarrassed by how drunk on his cock you are.
There are so many thoughts in your head and also none at all, “Toji, it feels so– oh!– feels so good– I can’t–”
“You’re doing so good, taking it all so well,” he sounds wrecked, words breaking off at the end. “Pussy so fucking– ffuck– so creamy– ohhh–”
Toji’s eyes stay locked on how you take him, chest fluttering at how he’s fucked you open. Cock drenched in your slick, dripping down your legs. So relentless in his pursuit that he just knows your ass is gonna hurt tomorrow from the consistent smack! smack! Of his pelvis slapping into you. Not even a question of if his finger marks will be imprinted onto your hips, the memory of him fucking you so well something he’s not going to let you forget.
He finally has you full and squirming under him, he’s not going to let it be a forgettable experience. Determined to fuck you so good that you’re begging him to do it all over again. He already wasn’t going to let you go but especially not now, not when having you feels this fucking divine. The borderline obsession he feels for you growing by the second, fuelled by how pliant you are for him.
All his thoughts are coming a million miles a second, all of them about you and how bad he’s wanted you, how ecstatic he is that he’s finally balls deep inside you. “You’re so perfect, feel so– hnng– feel so perfect–”
“Careful Toji– hah– I might think you like me,” you joke at him.
The smirk he’s wearing can be felt even though you can’t see him, his laugh short, “Oh I fucking looove you, pretty thing. You’re never getting rid of me.”
You don’t know if that confession is one you can take seriously or if he’s just severely pussy drunk but its effect on you doesn’t change, your cunt clamping down around him as your chest stutters. The tears you had been holding back finally slipping down your cheeks, so overwhelmed you’re seeing stars, hell, you might be hearing things.
His hand reaches to your face and squishes your cheeks between his thumb and fingers, pulling you back to him, your back arching lewdly for him. His tongue licking at the tears tracking down your face, “Crying over my dick, doll?” His words are laced with a sickening kind of affection for you, “So sweet for me.”
His other hand grabs at the bend of your knee, pulling it up. Despite your shaky hands still resting on the washer, all your weight is basically being supported by him. Your head falls back onto his chest  He uses the access to kiss you messily, tongue licking at yours, swallowing down the moans you let out.
Still, his hips drill into you, never letting up for even a second. Obscene squelching sounds of him fucking your gooey cunt filling the room, followed by the sharp slaps of skin hitting skin. Your stomach is pulling taut, getting so fucking close to finishing, vision blurred by all the tears in your waterline.
“Don’t fight it,” he murmurs into your skin, encouraging you, “Let it– fuck!– let it happen.”
“Feels– feels too– ah!– it feels different,” it feels too good, too much, “You need to­– need to stop, it doesn’t feel right.”
It sounds like he gets excited, not even a little concerned, “You’re doing so good, doll.”
“It’s not right–”
“–It’s fine,” he tries to offer comfort, “Trust me.”
Your legs shake violently, the build-up of your orgasm foreign and like it might have you passing out. As different as it feels, you trust him and let it happen, let yourself get fucked over the edge and into bliss. Your orgasm rips through you, moans tumbling freely and loudly, your body shaking from the force of it. Temporarily it feels like you lose sight, unseeing but feeling your cold tears against your hot cheeks.
Cunt clenching down, hard, on his dick, coating him completely in your cum. Body twitching with the shocks of your orgasm, head full and spinning. With the amount of blood rushing in your ears, you can’t hear what he’s saying. Only after a few moments have passed are you able to begin barley making out what he’s saying.
“Fffuck– that’s it, look at that,” Toji can’t hide the absolute pleasure in his voice even if he tried to, completely ecstatic at the sight before him.
You’re breathless and limp, letting him hold your lower half up, head lolling against his chest. Able to feel the vibrations of his moans against you, in a way it’s soothing to you.
“Doll, look down,” he prompts, hand guiding you down.
You whine in protest but look down anyways, an absolute mess everywhere. Lower halves drenched after your orgasm. “Oh my–” when he lets go of your cheeks, your head flops back onto his chest, head spinning.
“Hah– squirted everywhere,” he smiles into your skin, “All for me– hnn–”
He’s in love with the fact he’s managed to get you to cum like that without even really trying, his ego getting a boost he surely didn’t need. His own orgasm so close it bites at his skin, his hand gripping your thigh tight, pulling at your flesh. Free hand sliding under your shirt and grabbing at your breast, shamelessly groping you.
Shudders wracking his body as he cums suddenly, almost taken off guard by how quickly it happens. Cock twitching as he dumps his seed deep inside you, taking a moment to breathe before pulling back slowly, watching as his dick leaves you covered in both your orgasms.
Carefully, he places your leg back down on the ground, leaving you to stand on your own only for your legs to wobble and almost give out under you. If Toji hadn’t been right behind you, you would’ve fallen to the floor. He pulls your panties back into place before hoisting you up onto the washing machine, letting you sit while he puts his dick back into his pants.
You watch him move, all dazed and fucked out, pleasantly placated. His eyes meeting yours when he’s fully clothed, a big smile spreading across his face when he sees the mess he’s made of you.
Leaning in towards you, he asks, “Still got that big fat crush on me?”
“Uhm… I don’t know…” you pretend to think about it, like you don’t know if you like him or not.
He gives you a quick and soft kiss, “How about now?”
“I think… maybe,” you smile lazily at him.
His brow raises, “Maybe?”
“Yeah… definitely maybe still have a big fat crush on you,” you nod once, sure.
He’s grinning when he sighs, “You’re unbearable.”
“That’s my line,” you retort.
You’re both playing dumb but you both know you got it bad for each other and Toji is not going to let you get away with avoiding him again. Not after he’s gotten a taste of you.
Tumblr media
𝐀/𝐍: this took longer than what i said it would and i'm sorry for that but i also was only planning for this to be a drabble... i have issues ToT anyways !! i hope you enjoyed !! happy almost halloween !!
[⚠︎] — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of lovelivision
★ ⁝ my works are not to be used for AI under any circumstances
1K notes · View notes
wileys-russo · 1 month ago
Note
Alessia “babe… I don’t know how to tell you this, but I lost my ring” living room
Tumblr media
lost property II a.russo
it wasn't until you got in the car that evening that either of you tweaked anything was wrong, alessia having surprised you with a dinner reservation at your favourite japanese restaurant.
"oh less, why?" you'd questioned right away when you'd arrived home from work and she'd told you, the blonde giving you an odd look and a smile.
"just because." the englishwoman grinned, pecking your lips and sending you upstairs to get ready while she put on a load of washing. an hour later and you were both ready to go, alessia holding up the procession as she hunted for her car keys.
"baby this is why i bought you all the air tags for christmas!" you reminded gently, a thin lipped smile on your face as you tapped your foot, the pair of you now running late for your reservation as alessia dug through her training bag for the second time.
"i don't need them! i don't have a problem with losing things, this is a one off." your fiance huffed stubbornly as you exhaled, sinking down into the sofa. "we could just order in?" you suggested, knowing it took a lot to tip the level headed blonde over the edge but recognizing she was close to snapping.
"no. we're both ready, and you look gorgeous. they're here somewhere!" alessia paused to send you a smile before resuming her digging through her bag, moving quickly onto her favourite handbag and purse but also coming up empty handed.
"i'll go check upstairs less, and you look beautiful!" you rose up from the lounge, ducking down to kiss her cheek and taking the steps two at a time, disappearing into your bedroom.
"found them!" you called out within seconds, a roll of your eyes as you snatched her keys off the bathroom counter and also her phone with a scoff. "where?" alessia was already waiting at the bottom of the steps with wide eyes.
"bathroom, where you showered right after training." you laughed, twirling them around on your finger and holding them out of the taller girls reach, hovering a few steps above her.
"should you call them? let them know we're running late?" you suggested, alessia nodding and slipping a hand into the pocket of her blazer, the temptation to grin swallowed down at the frown on the footballers face as she patted herself down.
"i can't-" "bit hard to call without a phone?" you questioned, eyebrow raised and the device held in your other hand as alessia's cheeks flushed pink. "you'd lose your head if it wasn't attached to your body darling." you teased, her keys and phone slipped into her hands as you squeezed her face in your free hand as you passed.
"this is just a bad example. i do not have a problem with losing things!"
only as your fiance finally pulled out of your driveway and you hung up with the restaurant who agreed to hold you table, did you note there was something quite noticeably missing from her left hand which gripped the steering wheel.
"less." you called for her attention as she hummed, eyes on the road and both hands on the wheel, slowing down at a red light and glancing toward you with a raised eyebrow.
"baby wheres your ring?" you asked quietly, the strikers eyes dropping immediately to her hands which she balled up and moved to her lap. "i uh-well i-" the blonde stumbled over her words, jolting in her seat as she light turned green and the car behind her honked twice telling her to move.
"alessia. did you lose your engagement ring?" you asked slowly, eyes narrowing as your fiance could almost feel the tension rise ten fold within the car, hairs on the back of her neck prickling at the hardened look which burned the side of her face.
"no! babe of course not, of course i didn't lose it." the blonde assured, reaching across to squeeze your knee. "right. so then where is it?" you questioned, arms moving to cross as your fiance shifted in her seat, eyes refusing to meet your own.
"its uh, its being cleaned!" alessia excused, flashing you a nervous smile as you hummed. "the engagement ring that you've had for two weeks...needed to be cleaned?" you asked clearly not believing the poor attempt at a lie.
"yes! yes i was uh, i was showing the girls and i forgot to take it off while we were training. then of course it rained today, and the ring well it got muddy." alessia lied, nodding as if to convince herself more than you, turning right into the carpark.
"it got muddy?" "yes, muddy." "and you couldn't have just wiped it?" "wiped my engagement ring? you don't wipe diamonds!" alessia scoffed, putting her car into park and giving you a look of shock which you met with a blank stare.
"look at this baby, see how it sparkles? catches the light? thats because you take such good care of it, much better care than me. but i would never lose my ring! never." alessia laced her fingers with yours, holding up your engagement ring as you rolled your eyes.
"you spin a decent story russo." you gave her a slight smile, unclicking your belt as the blonde kissed the back of your hand and let go to do the same, the pair of you exiting the car.
"now my love, would i lie to you?"
~
"leah!" the blonde glanced up from her breakfast at the call of her name, eyebrows furrowing together at the younger girl practically barreling through the cafeteria to get to her, dropping into her seat and trying to catch her breath.
"less?" leah questioned, taking a bite of toast, a few odd glances thrown alessia's way whose chest heaved, not even dressed for training yet as she'd run right from her car to the table.
"i lied to my fiance and i think our marriage might be over before its even started." the blonde stated bluntly, leah choking on a mouthful of toast at the sentence, beths hand smacking her on the back as she joined the pair with a plate of food.
"you right? you know you're old enough now to know you have to chew before you swallow leah." the norhterner smirked as her friend gave her an evil side eye, quickly chugging the last few mouthfuls of juice.
"alessia you've not even been engaged for a month, how is your marriage over already? you've loved that girl for years!" leah asked once she could speak again, beths eyes near bugging out of her head.
"what did you do to that poor lovely girl alessia?" she spoke up sternly, eyes narrowing as alessia scoffed. "why do you assume i did something?" the striker questioned, leah clearing her throat capturing the attention back to her.
"to quote well uh, you. 'i lied to my fiance and i think our marriage might be over before its even started'." leah mocked, fixing the younger girl with a look who paled and sunk into her seat with a sigh.
"i lost my ring." "sorry speak up please some of us don't speak whisper." "i lost my ring."
"uh i hope you mean literally any other ring and not your engagement ring alessia!" beth gasped as the striker winced and shushed her. "oh less forget the wedding being off, you're a dead woman. can any of the venues you were thinking of accommodate a funeral?" leah questioned, alessia shooting her daggers before dragging her hands down her face with a quiet groan.
"she is always on you about being more mindful of your possessions, little miss forget a lot!" beth reminded as your fiance exhaled heavily.
"i know i know! i didn't mean to i just..." "forgot?" both beth and leah chimed in sync sharing a grin as alessia huffed. "are you two going to help me or not?"
"right. so we need to retrace all of your steps from yesterday, where did you start?" leah asked as the three of them made their way out of the canteen, having merely an hour to do so before they were required on the pitch.
"my car. but i already tossed that last night after she fell asleep, and i searched the house top to bottom it's definitely not at home." alessia affirmed as leah hummed.
"so you walked in through the front doors and-" "alessia!" a new voice interrupted them, one of the trainers waving from the end of the hall as he chased after the trio.
"not now henry i'm so sorry, girl talk." alessia called back, jolting the man in his tracks who nodded with a strange look, opening his mouth to speak but they'd already disappeared into the change rooms.
and an hour later as the trio wandered out onto the pitch, alessia was still ring-less, word spreading throughout the team some of whom checked in with her and others (kyra) who seemed to think it was hilarious.
it was obvious her mind was elsewhere during the first session, missing easy goals, easy passes, tripping over herself with her head in the clouds as your voice echoed around in her head.
renee pulling the striker aside to check in alessia assured she was just having an off day and everything was fine, beth and leah watching a few feet away as they hung back after the whistle, the rest of the team filing inside for lunch.
"hey less!" again henry called after her as alessia joined beth and leah, the trio already trying to plot where else the ring may have been left, leah now making an excuse that they all had recovery and couldn't be late as she ushered them back inside.
the later in the day it became, the more alessia's stress grew, now going as far as to be dodging your calls and ignoring your texts, having a day off from work and trying to do the groceries without the list you'd asked her to write out yesterday, another thing she'd forgot.
"the more ya dodge her the more its gonna bite you in the ass later less." beth cautioned, watching the younger girl silence your call and slip her phone into her pocket with a wince, trudging through the car park with slumped shoulders and a face like she was being marched to her execution.
"good luck mate, its been lovely knowing you." leah sighed squeezing her shoulder as alessia pushed her hand off with a scowl, the older blonde snickering and jogging off to catch up with steph who she'd driven in with.
you were starting to grow worried the later in the day it became and your fiances car still hadn't appeared in the driveway, all your calls going to voicemail and texts unanswered.
you paced around the living room, darting to the window like an excited puppy every time you thought you heard her, only to deflate seeing it was just one of your neighbours.
though when afternoon turned to evening and still there was no sign of her, all of the girls confirming she'd left right after training same as them, your worry began to fester and stew, doubts creeping in no matter how much you tried to push them out.
you bounced your knee and bit your lip as your mind drew itself to a conclusion you tried to refuse to believe.
the fancy dinner last night, the insistence to make you breakfast in bed before she'd left for training, the cute little note on the fridge, the lack of a wedding ring, the unexplained absence, the dodged phone calls and messages you could see she'd read.
then finally, the engine, the hurried footsteps and a key in the door.
"baby? it's just me!" she sang out, the thump of her training bag against the floor and shuffle of her shoes wiped against the welcome mat sounding afterward, but you didn't make a move to go and greet her.
"hey i thought we agreed to watch that together! its thursday night that means takeout and trashy tv shows." your fiance whined seeing you already a half an hour into an episode of the real housewives.
a show alessia had been adamant she would never watch or enjoy however after days of her 'curious' questions and hovering around the sofa pretending to be busy whenever you'd put it on you'd worn her down to actually sit and watch, and since then she was hooked.
"are you cheating on me?" it came spewing out of you before you could even take a beat to process, pausing the television and head whipping around to meet your fiances gobsmacked features.
"am i what?" "are you, cheating, on me?" you repeated a little firmer this time, swallowing the fear of her answer and trying to give her the hardest look you could muster.
"i-why would you think i would ever in a million years cheat on you?" alessia rounded the sofa in the blink of an eye as you sat with arms crossed and a frown.
"you took me out for a fancy dinner to distract me, you didn't wear your ring, you've been ignoring me all day and you finished training hours ago but you only just got home and no one can tell me where you've been!" you accused, alessia's face falling.
"baby-" "no alessia, where have you been? who have you been with? does she work at the restaurant? is that why you took me there so you could-" you gasped, shooting up to your feet as the blonde groaned.
"no! no no no no. can you please sit down? i will explain everything." alessias hands fell to your shoulders, very gently pushing you back down to the sofa, shifting uncomfortably under your prickly glare.
"babe i don't know how to tell you this. but...i lost my ring." alessia mumbled quietly, foot nudging a scuffed patch of carpet. "you what?" you asked, not quite hearing her properly as she winced.
"i uh, i lost my ring." "you mean the cleaner lost your ring?" "no...it was never at the cleaners." "right. so you lied to me about it?" "no!" "alessia you are skating on thin ice-" "okay yes! yes i told a little lie. but i promise you i have spent the entire day trying to find it, thats why i'm so late!" alessia collapsed onto the sofa beside you and buried her face in her hands.
but before you could say anything the doorbell rang, and when your fiance made no move to get up to answer it too busy indulging in her little pity party you got up to get it.
"uh hi?" you spoke to the unfamiliar man on your doorstep who took a step back as you pulled the door open. "i'm so sorry to bother you this late, but is alessia here?" you noticed the arsenal badge on his jacket and the word staff sewn underneath, nodding and calling out for the blonde.
"henry? is everything alright?" alessia questioned, surprised to see him to say the least as his hand fished around in his pocket. "look i tried to talk to you all day but-" he grunted and rummaged deeper into his pockets.
"-but i didn't think you'd want to wait any longer for a reunion." with that he fished a sandwich bag out of his pocket and at the sight of its contents alessia's jaw nearly hit the floor.
"my ring! jesus christ henry if i wasnt engaged i'd kiss you." alessia breathed out as he handed it over and you rammed your elbow into her side with a glare making the trainer chuckle.
"i've been married for three years now. good luck! see you tomorrow." the man grinned and with a wave he was walking back down the driveway, the door closed as alessia scrambled to slide the ring back onto her finger with a deep exhale of relief.
one which was interrupted by a clearing of your throat.
"baby-" "no. nope! no, not a word." you warned, a hand held up to stop her advancing toward you as she'd started, a sheepish smile and guilt ingrained deep in her features.
"i'm really sorry?" "thats three words." "i love you?"
"lie to me again and you can have this back." you warned seriously pointing to the ring on your own finger, your fiance nodding eagerly and launching at you for a hug which you ducked.
"baby where are you going?" "to find a needle and thread." "...why?"
"because alessia we are going to take those air tags i got you for christmas and sew one into everything you own, and then after that i'm going to stitch that ring permanently to your finger!"
866 notes · View notes
junezsq · 5 months ago
Text
cigarettes
Tumblr media
steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: you hate the way cigarettes taste and when he finds out he decides that maybe it’s time to quit
established relationship
warnings: alcohol, (underage) drinking, partying, smoking, a few swear words, make out scenes
word count: 3.6k
a/n: someone get me somebody like steve ugh!!!! the way I feel like he'd do anything for the people he loves :')
── ᵎᵎ ✦
by the time you’d filled up the kitchen counter with all the different types of liquor you could find it felt like you had run half a marathon. to be completely honest, you were still in shock about how one household could own this much alcohol in the first place.
the sound of footsteps echoed throughout the hallway towards the kitchen and when you glanced sideways you smiled at your boyfriend walking towards you. “hey,” you pushed yourself off the counter and motioned your hands at the kitchen island, proud of the set up you’d made, “tadaa! what do you think?.”
he chuckled, “you didn’t have to.” he looked over the full counter before looking back at you, taking a few steps closer so he was able to place his hands on your waist, “it looks great, sweets.”
you shrugged, “i wanted to help.” you smiled, moving your hands along his chest and up to his shoulders. your eyes flickered up to his hair, which he had carefully styled in the time you’d been setting up the kitchen. the devil on your shoulder told you it’d be fun to run your hands through it and mess it up a bit. you didn’t want to force him to undergo the entire styling process again though, which would result into him missing the start of the party he was organizing, “it was a lot though, is it all yours?”
steve glanced over at all the bottles you’d picked, “it’s my dad’s.” he looked back at you, raising his hand to carefully tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. you raised your brows, “and he lets you use it? i bet my dad would kill me if i drank even the tiniest bit of his precious liquor.”
“i don’t know.” he moved his hand back to your waist, “he’s never home long enough to check.”
your gaze softened as you softly squeezed his shoulders in comfort. you knew how difficult it had been, and still was, for steve; not having his parents home for majority of his life. “luckily, you now have me to irritate you.” you tried to lighten the mood, successfully, because he let out a soft chuckle and dipped his head to sweetly place his lips on yours.
you let yourself melt into the kiss for a short moment before pulling back, leaning your forehead against his, "on that note," you bit your bottom lip, slightly smirking as you leaned backwards so you could look at him again, "could i stay the night?"
steve smiled at your request, "you know you don't have to ask that, sweets." he softly squeezed your hips, placing a quick peck on your lips. "but if you do, you have to help me clean up."
you giggled, moving to stand on your toes and reconnect your lips with his. you felt him smile through the kiss and you slightly tightened your grip on his shoulders when he pulled you closer against him.
the sound of the doorbell ringing throughout the house interrupted your moment and a laugh escaped your throat at steve throwing his head back in annoyance. you softly patted his chest, "i'll open the door."
steve watched as you walked off around the corner and towards the front door. god the things you did to him. there was never a moment he looked at you and didn't want to smother you with kisses. he was sure he could kiss you all day, everyday, and never get tired of it. he shook his head, a small smirk playing on his lips as he turned to the kitchen island, grabbing two red cups to fill them up with a drink he knew you liked.
the first to enter were some you recognised as steve's friends and a couple of your classmates. you decided to keep the door unlocked so no one had to worry about constantly hearing the obnoxious sound of the doorbell.
while you made your way back to the kitchen you widened your eyes, surprised by the amount of people that had arrived in the span of a few minutes. you muttered a couple sorry’s as you squished yourself through the crowd and a breath of relief left your lips when you’d finally reached the kitchen.
your eyes fell on steve, who was talking to someone you vaguely recognized as someone from your school year. you dusted off your hands on your jeans as you stepped closer to them, “hey.” you breathed out, and at the sound of your voice the two immediately turned their heads to look at you. you glanced down and caught sight of the two cups in steve’s hands. “what’cha got there?”
steve followed your line of sight, “right.” he glanced at the guy next to him, telling him he’d find him later that night to continue whatever conversation they were having, “here you go, gorgeous.” he turned to you and handed you the fullest cup, clearly already having drunk from the other one.
you thanked him as you took the cup from his hand, a small smile playing on your lips, “you didn’t have to cut off your conversation with …?”
he chuckled, leaning back against the counter, “joshua.”
“right,” you nodded before taking a sip of your drink.
“it’s fine, we still have the entire night to finish that.” steve kept his smile playing on his lips as he took your free hand in his, pulling you closer to him, “and i needed to give you your favorite drink.”
you playfully rolled your eyes at his words, “you’re such a cliché, harrington.”
“don’t act like you don’t love it.”
“hmm.” you stilted your head, trying to appear as if you were in thought, “maybe.”
steve smirked at you, softly squeezing your hand as he pulled you even closer against him. he immediately smashed his lips on yours and you returned his smirk through the kiss. you tried your best not to spill the drink you were still holding in one hand as you untangled your other from his, moving it to the back of his neck.
his tongue swept over your bottom lip, as if to ask for permission and so you moved your hand up to slightly tug on his hair in answer. he groaned softly at the gesture and tightened his grip on your waist, slowly starting to loose himself into the kiss. he couldn't get enough of it. of you.
"yo, harrington! stop sucking the life out of your girlfriend!"
a voice called throughout the kitchen and you giggled as you pulled away from steve. your hand was still tangled up in his hair when you glanced to the backdoor in which eddie was leaning against the doorpost. you playfully rolled your eyes and looked back at steve starting to carefully fix his hair.
"you're just saying that because you're still bitchless, munson." steve shot back, removing his hand from your waist only to immediately wrap his other arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. you instinctively wrapped your arm around his middle.
"whatever." eddie scoffed, pointing his thumb over his shoulder, "you comin' outside?"
steve's gaze landed on you, his eyes searching your features for a hint of your thoughts. you smiled at him, "go! i'll try and find robin or nancy."
"are you sure?" steve's eyes were focused on yours and you gave him another reassuring smile, "yeah!" you detached yourself from him and softly pushed him towards the backdoor, "go!"
"alright, alright," steve chuckled, leaning closer to you again to place a quick kiss on your lips, "don't let anyone get close to your drink."
you giggled at his protectiveness, knowing he would stay by your side the entire evening if you asked him to, "i won't, now go! eddie's waiting." his hand found your cheek as he leaned in for another soft kiss. you smiled against his lips while slightly pulling him closer by his collar.
“harrington!”
eddie’s call-out made him draw back with a stupid grin playing on his lips, “see you later, yeah?”
you nodded, letting go off his collar to softly pat his chest, “see ya.” your own smile didn’t recede as you watched him stalk off towards eddie and out the back door. a soft breath escaped your lips before you quickly downed your drink. time to mingle.
⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚: *⋆.*:・゚ .: ⋆*・゚: .⋆ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚: *⋆.*:・゚ .: ⋆*・゚: .⋆ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚:
the chatter and music died down as you stumbled through the hallway, trying to make your way towards the bathroom. at the sound of a door closing you glanced backwards, but the quick movement caused you to loose your balance. before you could fall face first to the ground though, a pair of strong hands found your waist.
“shit, sorry.” you grumbled, automatically grabbing their arm to straighten yourself. when you found the mystery person’s face you immediately widened your eyes in surprise, “steve!”
it was obvious you’d had a drink too many; the strap of your top had fallen of your shoulder and your hair was completely disheveled. steve chuckled at your excitement and let go of your waist to carefully readjust the strap and place some hair strands that were stuck against your lipgloss behind your ears, “what’s up, sweets?”
you shrugged, “nothing much.” steve’s hand found it’s way to your upper arm, causing your insides to warm up at his touch. you slightly raised your brows when you remembered something, “i found robin!”
“you did?” steve let his thumb rub small circles on your skin.
you nodded eagerly, “yeah! only a moment after you went outside, she walked into the kitchen. she made me a drink, actually!” you started rambling, “it was really good! not as good as the one you made me, but maybe, like, a close second!”
“a close second, huh?”
you hummed in response, “and then we talked for a while, i don’t remember about what, though.” you lightly tilted your head in thought, but gave up quickly, “doesn’t matter, because then we went dancing for a bit, and after that she made me another one of those drinks. that one wasn’t as good as the first one she made me, though.”
“that’s too bad.” steve’s eyes went over your features while he listened carefully, “and then … you ended up here?”
“yeah,” you smiled at your boyfriend, “i was on my way to the bathroom, but now that i think about it, i don’t really have to pee.” you shrugged and steve let out a soft chuckle.
you slightly tilted your head, placing your pointer finger against his chest, “what have you been up to, handsome?”
an amused grin was playing on steve’s lips and you swore you could see small sparkles glowing in his eyes as he looked at you, “well, while robin was playing your personal bartender, i was outside with eddie and a few other guys from our year…”
you tried your utmost best to focus on whatever steve was telling you, but for some reason all you could look at, and think of, were his lips. they were just too pretty to not look at. you swallowed, flattening your hand against his chest as your mind started wandering to what his way too perfect lips could do. what they’d done to you already.
“are you listening?”
his voice pulled you out off your trance and your eyes flickered up to his, “huh?”
he raised his brows teasingly, “what are you thinking off?”
you let out a soft breath, “sorry, it’s just … i wanna listen to what you’re saying,” you trailed your hand up to his cheek so you could place your thumb on his bottom lip, your own lips forming a small pout, “but all i can think of is your lips and how badly i want to kiss them.”
“do you now?” steve smirked, your thumb moving along with his bottom lip as he spoke. your eyes intently followed the small movement.
“yeah…” you let out another sigh, “wait! is this what you meant when you told me you wish you could kiss me 24/7?” you blurted out, tearing your gaze away from his lips to look him back in the eye.
all steve did was let out a soft laugh. his hand slowly creeped up your arm and to your hand, removing it from his cheek so he could intertwine them, “i did tell you that, huh?”
“i get it now.” your focus landed back on his lips as you softly bit your own bottom lip. the things you’d do to the male standing in front of you if his house wasn’t full with people right now.
he pulled you closer by your hand and leaned slightly closer. his forehead was almost touching yours and when he spoke in a whisper you felt shivers form along your spine, “you know you can just kiss me anytime you want, sweets.”
“i know.” you whispered, detaching your hand from his and moving it, along with your other, up to the back of his neck. his hands instantly moved to your waist. you smirked lightly as you pulled him closer; your foreheads now touching, “but what if i want you to kiss me?”
steve chuckled before connecting your lips with his and you felt yourself instantly relax. “you’re crazy.” he spoke in between kisses, softly squeezing your hips.
“about you, yeah.” you mumbled against his lips, tangling one of your hands into his hair; wanting him to be as close to you as possible.
you raised yourself to stand on your toes just as his tongue darted past your lips and into your mouth. a soft groan escaped steve's lips as he tightened his grip onto your hips. just when you started to melt into the kiss, you could taste a bit of nicotine on either his tongue or lips.
you pulled back slightly, which steve took as a hint to trail his kisses down towards your jaw and neck. your brows formed a small frown in thought. was it your imagination or did he really taste like cigarettes? wanting to find out you placed your palms on his cheeks so you could tilt his head back up and move back into a kiss. as soon as your lips touched his again, you knew you were right.
you leaned back, "did you smoke?" you asked, your eyes on his and his face still cradled in your hands.
steve blinked in confusion, "I did ... outside with eddie and the others." he let his fingertips slip just underneath your top as he spoke, under the impression you already knew he'd smoked earlier that night, "why?"
you threw your head back and let out a groan, “ugh.” a sigh escaped your lips, letting your hands slip down to his shoulders as you looked him back in the eyes, “ now i don’t want to kiss you anymore.”
steve's brows knitted together, getting more confused by the second, "what? ... why?"
"i hate the taste of cigarettes." your lips formed a pout as you spoke, "kinda makes me want to throw up, actually."
"really?! i didn’t know that."
"yeah..." you nodded, starting to play with the collar of his polo.
steve slipped one of his hands from underneath your top and reached up to tuck a stubborn strand of hair behind your ear, "so if I kiss you again right now, you'll throw up..?"
you giggled softly, "okay, maybe, not literally throw up." your eyes went over his features as you spoke, "i just think it tastes awful."
"right." steve slightly tilted his head in thought.
when you noticed you softly squeezed his shoulders, "I'm not saying you have to quit smoking, or anything! you can do whatever you want." you smiled affectionately, "i just won't kiss you right after you've smoked ... maybe you can eat a mint or brush your teeth?"
"alright." steve quickly nodded, still slightly thrown off by this new information. "yeah, i can do that." he smiled at you, moving his hand back to your waist, "wouldn't want to miss out on kissing you, now would i?"
a giggle escaped your lips as you reached your hand up to softly ruffle his hair, “i’m going to get some water, sober up a bit.” you smiled, brushing some hair away from his eyes, “see you later?”
even though you already knew his answer your smile grew slightly when steve hummed in confirmation. you raised yourself on your toes to place a kiss on his cheek, his hands instinctively squeezing your waist.
you gave him one last smile and steve watched as you walked off. his eyes stayed on the doorway through which you had just disappeared a moment longer before throwing his head back. all sort of thoughts were circulating through his head; he couldn’t stop thinking of the conversation you’d just had.
he ran his hands through his hair before placing them on his hips. how had he not know about this? he though of all the times he’d smoked, coming to the conclusion that none of them had been around you, and that there’d always been quite some time between taking a cigarette and seeing you.
steve sighed and let his hand slip into his pocket, taking out his lighter and a pack of cigarettes; the thought of not being able to kiss you slipped into his mind. he ran his free hand through his hair once more before stalking off towards the kitchen.
he squished himself through the crowd, mumbling a quick sorry when bumping into someone. a voice he vaguely recognized called his name but he ignored it as his thoughts were elsewhere.
when he reached the kitchen he instantly went for one of the counter cabinets and opened it to reveal the trash can. he took one last glance at the cigarettes and lighter in his hand before throwing them away. a small breath of relief escaped his lips; it almost felt as if he should’ve done this way sooner.
⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚: *⋆.*:・゚ .: ⋆*・゚: .⋆ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚: *⋆.*:・゚ .: ⋆*・゚: .⋆ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚:
when steve wasn’t able to find you he decided to take a breath of fresh air and go outside for a bit. while he ran his hand through his hair he closed the back door. he was still wondering if he should tell you he’d decided to quit smoking tonight or if he would wait until after the party; not sure if you had managed to sober up.
“look who we’ve got here.” he glanced up to find eddie already looking at him, a stupid smirk grazing his lips. eddie reached out his hand that held a pack of cigarettes, “want one?”
steve shook his head, “thanks, but i can’t.”
“what?” eddie slightly tilted his head, taking a cigarette for himself before stuffing the package into his pocket, “didn’t you smoke one with me earlier?”
steve watched as eddie casually lit up the cigarette, “yeah, that was my last one.”
“your last one?” eddie knitted his brows, exhaling the smoke, “ever?”
steve shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets. he had never been a big smoker, he’d probably describe himself as an occasional one; parties, etc. however, having eddie point out so specifically he’d taken his last cigarette earlier that night, it made it sound so official. “yeah, man.”
“why’s that?” eddie tapped his cigarette, his eyes focused on the male in front of him.
steve shrugged once more, “promised my girl.”
the moment the words had left steve’s lips, eddie perked up, his eyes widening and a stupendous smirk growing on his own lips, “no way.”
“what?”
eddie exhaled some more smoke and slightly pushed steve’s shoulder, “aw, my little stevie is in love.”
steve slightly rolled his eyes, but stayed silent as he let his eyes wander over his backyard. eddie’s smirk grew even larger at his silence, “dude, you’re not even denying it!”
“okay, shut up.”
eddie opened his mouth to tease steve a bit more, but closed it the second his eyes caught on the back door opening. when he saw who was making their way outside he grinned back at steve, placing his cigarette against his lips, “speak of the devil.”
steve knitted his brows in confusion, turning his head towards the direction eddie was looking. at the sight of you his brows and posture relaxed instantly and when your eyes found his he couldn’t help but smile. you returned his smile and walked closer to the pair, “hey, i was looking for you, actually.”
“were you now?” eddie tapped his cigarette, “i’ve been outside the entire night.” he playfully smiled at you.
you let out an exaggerated gasp, your eyes falling on the curly haired, "no way! dang it, I should've come out here sooner." you giggled softly.
eddie exhaled some smoke once more before peaking away his cigarette, "too bad and too late, cutie, because i'm going inside now." he sent you a smile and glanced at steve, softly patting his arm, "good luck with the whole 'no smoking' thing, buddy."
your eyes snapped to steve, who obviously cringed at eddie's words. the curly haired called out a goodbye; you waved at him but kept your focus on your boyfriend, "what did he mean by that?"
steve bit his bottom lip, his eyes avoiding yours, "yeah, uhm, exactly what he said. i decided to quit."
"what?!" you exclaimed, reaching out your hands to place them on his cheek so you could turn his head and make him look at you, "but i told you, you don't have to do that."
"but i want to." steve's eyes finally found yours.
"why?"
steve instinctively moved his hands to your hips to pull you closer towards him, "because i can't miss out on kissing you."
you couldn't contain your smile as you let your thumbs softly caress his cheeks, "you're crazy, harrington."
"about you, yeah." steve returned your smile when he repeated the words you'd uttered to him earlier that night, "you know i'd do anything for you, sweets."
1K notes · View notes
xitsensunmoon · 8 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
My first ever comic con! And first cosplay too. Of course it's gonna be my boy :] Ramblings about the process are under the cut(Let me know if?? You would want me to elaborate with process images for any of the steps?)
The costume took me forever to make, as I've never done any machine sewing, sculpting, fabric dying or spray painting before but learning all of these was so fucking fun!! I never realised just how many different skills go into making a cosplay but it was so worth it!!!
Almost all of the clothes(except the hat) were purchased first as bases, but all of the detailing was added by me. All of the fabric used was originally just scraps that I was given for free so I needed to learn how to dye and dye all of the stars, they were originally white.
The sewing machine was its own beast that brought me tons of frustration from the lack of skill and knowledge (it was devastating to find out that 95% of fuck ups were my fault and not the machine's lmao). But as a result, a hat sewn from scratch, all of the fur trims, embroidery on the corset, stars and the collar(which is very hard to see on the pictures unfortunately) was all added manually. The stars and the stripes(on the back of the cape) were attached using heat-and-bond adhesive (I WISH I knew about such thing just when I started working on this. It would save me so much time and nerves.)
Then I found out about polymorph(mouldable plastic) and it has become the next thing I wanted to learn, to sculpt the claws and the fangs(yes, they're handmade jfksjs). The claws I then primed and painted in trillion coats because I wasn't satisfied with the colour of the spray paint. The fangs I moulded to my own teeth and then stained with tea to match the colour of my teeth :)c
As for makeup, I used Mehron Paradise water activated paints. At first I wanted to try to save money and bought myself Snazaroo instead, which unfortunately turned out to be a waste. Snazaroo didn't hold on my face for longer than 2 hours, cracking and peeling awfully. Mehron on the other hand survived 11 hours of me smiling, talking, emoting and such and didn't even crease at the smile lines(I'm actually shocked about that). It obviously works like any other makeup which means your skin texture and wrinkles won't go anywhere but Mehron's elasticity pleasantly surprised me. It did obviously smear from sweat and saliva(if you're eating and licking your lips) but if you don't touch the skin it just dries again, self setting. But if it's dry it's fully smear-proof. Highly recommend!
And last but not least, I've decided against painting my hands as it was very risky that I will stain everything I touch at the smallest hint of sweat. So instead I got myself gloves-tights(? Not sure how they're called but it's made from the same fabric as tights) and painted them with normal acrylic paint(did you know you could dye fabric with acrylic paint? I personally didn't), then heat set with an iron and voilà, they're reusable, my hands are not stained after an exhausting day and I don't stain everything I touch. It worked wonderfully which honestly was a surprise as I was really sceptical that acrylic paint will somehow stay in place.
I think this whole thing took me minimum of 6 months with big-big breaks for my school and life in general. But I'm really proud! This project taught me so many new skills and I couldn't have been happier about learning new knowledge, even if it sucked to fail in the meantime.
Everyone at the con was really nice and gave me a large confidence boost even tho it was my first time and I had no idea what I was doing. Taking photos with other people was really awkward/new for me as I hate cameras so I really had no idea how to pose/behave in front of one. But that's okay I think. This whole experience definitely made me want to do this again, so I think that will come with experience. Thank you for reading this far, hope you enjoyed this little summary :)
2K notes · View notes