#but hating yourself forever is still harm
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bitchwhoyoukiddin · 2 days ago
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*BANGS POT*
THIS. THIS, THANK YOU.
I want joy for Enji and Keigo! I WANT them to be peaceful and happy and kind TO and with each other!
I want them both to get softness because both of them (through choice or trauma or lack of choice) haven't had it in their lives. <3
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Second piece of the post-war Season series❄
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auguryofjellyfish · 1 day ago
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You talked a bit about some of the episodes yesterday but what did you think of [Flat Rejection]
oh boy, that's an interesting one.
first point I want to get out of the way: I think the way Mai is acting is a little immature. not unreasonable, there's a difference. but I, personally, will never condone ignoring someone and avoiding them if it's not absolutely necessary to protect yourself, because that can completely destroy people mentally.
Yanagi was kind of an ass in the trial in general…I think the worst he did was harping on Watari for doing damage to her room and not getting punished, that was COMPLETELY unnecessary and very ungentlemanly of him. at least Watari doesn't seem to hold it against him.
but other than that, his intentions towards Mai were good. he WAS right about her being too reckless. before she was abducted, he was very deferential and cautious with her, almost demure with his suggestions. all in all trying to be respectful. he was warning her repeatedly to stop damaging the door, pleading with her, trying to get her to see reason, and she didn't listen. then… she disappeared, and came back unconscious, bloody, and bruised black.
…what else was he supposed to feel, than that it was HIS fault this happened? because he didn't try hard enough to protect her?
he was trying to take her opinions, her strength, her independence into account, and look where that got her. no matter what, he's going to feel responsible, he needs to help people, he can't just be a bystander. he NEEDS to protect those who he feels need protecting. even if it's from themselves. I understand his point of view. he can't just leave people be, he can't let injustice stand, he won't turn his eyes away from people getting harmed. he's proactive. and most importantly… he really, really cares about Mai specifically.
now, Mai. Mai is incredibly strong, physically and mentally. she can take care of herself, she takes care of others. she is fiercely independent. but she's not made of stone. she's not unshakeable. there was a time when she was weak. when she was scared. when all she cared about was survival above all else. and she hated it, not being in control, of herself, of her actions, of her own fate, and she never, ever wants to feel like that again. and it's like…who the fuck does YANAGI think he is? to butt into HER life and HER decisions like that? to her, he has 0 reason to do that. it makes no sense because she doesn't need protection. she doesn't need a knight in shining armour, what the hell? it feels like Yanagi is undermining the strength she's been working so hard to cultivate. which is incredibly insulting. she can handle herself. …but she can't. not 100% of the time. Mai was so, so shaken after she came back from being tortured. she was scared. she was made completely powerless. she collected herself eventually. rested, gathered her strength again, because life goes on. because it was horrible, but it wasn't her first time. she can't just break apart here, that's not who she is. she has to keep moving forward.
…but Yanagi saw Mai's tears. he saw her break down. he heard her cries. and he didn't forget it. the sight was seared into his brain. he never, ever wanted for something like that to happen again.
…and here we are. yes- he was being controlling. Yanagi is a very, very passionate person, and the terror he felt when he saw her disappear, and the heartbreak from when he saw her cry from pain and fear- it was too much. it still doesn't mean his behaviour was appropriate. just understandable.
what he did was wrong. but let's circle back to my first point- Mai ignoring him. I really dislike that. she has every right to be angry with him, but this is childish. and borderline cruel….she should at least hear him out, one last time. let him say his piece, and then decide whether to thwack him over the head and tell him to fuck off forever or not.
being in this sort of limbo is extremely bad for Yanagi's mental state. stuck ruminating on his own thoughts, he has to supply his own reasoning because he doesn't know hers. he thinks that his behaviour was threatening instead of invasive, which isn't true. and now he's spiraling, wondering if he's destined to hurt people like his (grand)father, if he is even capable of treating them right, capable of care.
and of course he is! Yanagi is NOT his father. he has bad tendencies, but he knows he acted rashly and on his emotion. most of the time he's doing his best to care about other people's comfort and wellbeing. his hot-headedness pushed him to make huge mistakes, like the ice fairy incident and trying to control Mai, but that's not who he is. he is not cruel, violent, and selfish. he has flaws, he's had bad examples, and he hurt people, a lot, but he's not irredeemable.
and just like Wada said- this is a high-stress situation. this environment is designed to break them, to push them to the brink. to kill them. and he doesn't want her to DIE. his reaction was that of a well-meaning, but overprotective parent, who saw his child get bit by a dog a bit too hard, and got so frightened he tried to bundle her up in bubble wrap.
still patronizing, but it doesn't mean he's a MONSTER, an abuser. and he's not destined to be one.
but as long as this silence persists, he will continue to invent his own arguments, which will make sense to him, but will be blown completely out of proportion because he feels HORRIBLE, and he needs to self-flaggelate as a way to punish himself.
anyway. they need to talk.
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martyrbat · 1 year ago
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in the newest edition of skinny bitch audacity (fatphobia):
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comparing weight gain to... being a meth addict. and that you can look at someone and be qualified to say theyre degrading their health if they arent a small enough size for you to be attracted to them/be 'acceptable'
[IF YOU SHAME ADDICTS ON THIS POST YOURE GETTING BLOCKED. IF YOU SHAME FAT PEOPLE ON THIS POST YOURE GETTING BLOCKED. I WILL NOT WARN YOU TWICE.]
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tonycries · 8 months ago
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Freak On The Cam! - C.K.
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Synopsis. Choso always loved watching you - his pretty lil’ camgírl - from behind the screen. Who knew he’d love being on-screen with you even more?
Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, camgírl! reader, spítting, Choso has rings and piercings, first times + loss of vírginity (Choso’s), oral (fem receiving), exhíbitionism, DOWN BAD Choso, cúmplay, use of “ma’am”, Sukuna is a menace, víbrators, light jealousy (Choso’s), some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 6.5k
A/N. Meant to post this last week but hehe here we are. Also I’ve GOT to stop using Unc-kuna so much lmao.
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“Wanna see a movie or do you wanna make one?”
Choso was screwed. Completely and utterly screwed. So badly, in fact, that he might as well just wipe off every trace of himself online and go into hiding - preferably forever.
All because he had been so stupidly careless as to leave his phone unattended for exactly 1 minute and 47 seconds around Sukuna. 
In the time it took Choso to raid the kitchen for his favorite brand of cereal, his uncle had managed to open his Twitter (because “that’s where all the juicy stuff is”), stalk your pretty page at the very top of his last searched, and send a god-awful pick-up line that would probably get him blocked. Or worse.
Damnit, he knew he shouldn’t have made his password Yuji’s birthday.
“Ya should be thankful I didn’t DM her myself, brat.” Sukuna chuckles, not even a shred of regret in his tone, way too amused with how Choso was frantically trying to tackle the phone out of his hands. “What’s the harm in asking? Such a pretty camgirl, n’ you look like you need some good pu-”
“She’s also my classmate.”
“Kinky. Even better.” 
No, not “even better”. God, this must be some kind of cosmic joke, and Choso just wished the Earth would swallow him up whole right now - and maybe his phone along with it too. 
It had taken him almost a whole semester to work up the courage to just sit next to you during your shared lecture. All gorgeous with your bright smiles, and your smart mouth. And Choso was very much content to admire you from afar - and from behind his phone screen, of course.
Never following, never liking. Never tipping you off as one of your hundreds of thousands of fans.
And now, not only had Sukuna revealed that he’d found your secret Twitter account - the one with those sinful little clips of yourself that had Choso opening the app way too much - he’d also propositioned you. Like some creep.  
“Ugh. This is why women hate you.” Still desperately grappling, he spits out more to himself than Sukuna at this point. “B-besides, she’s never even gonna respond any-”
Ping!
And the Itadori household had never been quieter. Never, on a random Saturday during spring break. Never, as the two men crowd the phone, jaws dropped and staring wordlessly at the singular message on screen. You. 
“Let’s make one ;)”
---
“So s’not a stream this time, jus’ a video. Is that okay?”  You hum from your desk, glancing at the man seated on your bed as he hastily nods along with whatever you said. Looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here. 
Weird. 
It had only been a few days of back and forth since you’d gotten that first text - the one that you’d honestly thought about blocking like the thousands of others. But there was just something about it that made you stop, something that had you clicking on the profile to delve a little deeper.
It hit you like a semi-truck back then - five of them, in fact - that this was someone in your class. Someone you knew. How the hell did he even find this account? 
You knew Choso as that sweet - albeit slightly gloomy - kid that sat next to you, always quick with his answers and even quicker to look away from your gaze, no matter how hard you tried to spark a conversation. You’d just guessed he was afraid of you or something.
So nothing could’ve prepared you for how ridiculously attractive he looked in that profile picture, all smug grins and dark locks falling effortlessly around his slightly smudged eyeliner. Shirtless, giving just a peak of- oh god, were those nipple piercings?  
Could you really be blamed? You just had to have him.
But, here - it was like he was just itching to run away at the first chance he got. 
“You’re not held at gunpoint, y’know.” you giggle at how he startles at the mere sound of your voice. The mattress dips as you stop fiddling with the camera to sit next to him, thighs flush against his muscled ones. “Are you sure you want-”
“Yes.” 
It seems that both of you were surprised by the abrupt response. Too quick. Choso clears his throat, cheeks flaring as he tries to dredge up some semblance of dignity, he drawls lightly. “I mean- Yes.”
You study him for a moment under the dim lighting, noting the way his hands clench and unclench in his lap, the way his chest rises and falls rapidly as he struggles to control his breathing. He was nervous. Nervous and horny - nothing quite like the suave impression his pick-up line gave off. 
But so irresistible just the same.
“Well…Cho.” you bat your lashes, voice dropping to a seductive whisper - not too heavy, for now at least. “Then why won’t you even look at me?”
Alas, Choso was not a strong man. 
Maybe at your words, maybe at that playful little nickname you gave him, he’s finally raising those dark eyes to look at you. Twinkling with- fear? anticipation? A flicker of something so dangerous as his gaze sweeps greedily over that tight dress you put on just for this occasion. 
Choso tries to ignore how sinfully it hugs all your curves. Or the way it would look a million times better on the floor. 
This was absolute torture. 
And God he thinks he could pass out right then and there as you lean in closer. Too close. The temperature in the room suddenly increasing by about 10 degrees as you purr, tone careful and balanced. “Much better. And now…” 
His breathing becomes heavier, eyes flickering downwards. Once. Twice. 
And you know you’ve got him in the palm of your hand. 
“...all you gotta do is touch me.”
Yeah, if Choso thought he was going to pass out before then he definitely wasn’t ready for those dangerous little words. Ones that have him shaken right to the core - fighting that urge to just take you how he’s imagined all those lonely nights.
“You- huh?” he lets out a shaky laugh, the sound strained as he crosses his legs with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, desperately trying to will away the blood rushing straight to his throbbing cock right now. 
But how could he? Not when you only shift closer, barely even a hair’s breadth between you two - relishing in his strangled gasp as your tits press so enticingly against his arm. Such an adorable pout playing on your lips as you mutter, “Do you not want to?”
And he did. Oh, how he did - has been imagining it for the past five months, in fact. And Choso lets you know, a little twenty times, actually, as the words spill panickedly from his lips. 
“-idiot trying to set me up and I’ve been dreaming of fucking you for so long but I’m just-” Heat rushes to Choso’s cheeks, as he abruptly shuts the fuck up. But it’s too late - the damage has been done.
You give him a wry smile, lips mere inches from his ear. “Just what?”
His breath hitches, muscles rippling so deliciously as he shudders beneath your touch. “I’m a-” Choking out - as if it physically hurts to  admit - “-virgin.”
Oh. 
Now, you might’ve expected many things - but certainly not this. Though, looking at the cute flush on the tips of his ears, all the way down to those big, needy eyes, you don’t mind. Not one bit.
With one, quick glance at the rolling camera - your mouth is moving before your mind. “Do you want me to…do something about it?”
And then it’s like something snapped. 
You don’t know who leans in first, just that Choso’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him - how could you not? 
Because goddammit it was always those pretty lips that you were staring at whenever he was spouting off answers in class. You just never expected he’d be kissing you back with such an infectious desperation. 
No sooner are you thinking about how sweet his lips are before he’s pulling away with a soft sigh, pressing hot open-mouthed kisses down your jaw. Your neck. Back to your lips like he wanted everything and anything.
You gasp licks a long, languid stripe up your neck - maybe at how utterly obscene it felt, maybe at that sharp cold feeling that makes you flinch. Fuck - a tongue piercing? The noise makes Choso’s mouth drop into a quick oh! surging forward to claim your lips again. Addicted. 
Only to be stopped by your hands cupping his face, letting out a pained grunt at how he was so close. Just a hair’s breadth away from your lips.
“Cho~ Open your mouth, baby.” you whisper, hotly. 
And he looked so pretty - dark hair askew, lower lip swollen and quivering with need, brows furrowing because he wanted more of your taste. But he obeys, of course he does, Choso thinks he’ll do anything you asked. And lo and behold, sitting right there in the middle of his tongue was a pretty silver piercing.
You just can’t help but thumb open his mouth further, looking him right in the eyes as you spit in his mouth. Once. Twice. 
“Bet no one else has done this before, huh?” Grinning at how sinfully Choso’s eyes roll to the back of his head at your taste, “Kiss me proper now.”
God, you were so good at throwing away whatever was left of his poor sanity. And it’s all that’s said before his kiss-bitten lips are crashing into yours again. 
“No. No one’s hah- done that before. Only you.” he’s panting into your open mouth, swirling his tongue with yours. “F-fuck only you. Only you only you-”
You barely even realize the way you’re on his lap now, sitting so prettily there that Choso half-deliriously wonders whether he should take a picture. Mind spinning too much with his throbbing erection under your drenched panties, a damp little patch at his fat tip. So hot and heavy already.
“Cho, do you want me to-”
“Yes, ma’am.”
You certainly don’t have to be told twice - especially with that little nickname. Fiddling with his belt, you’re so hazy with want - the need to taste Choso, to see if the rest of him was as sweet as his lips - that you almost miss the look of confusion that flashes across his face.
You bat your lashes at him almost-innocently, “You alright?” And Choso thinks he could cum right there and right now at the sight. If he wasn’t currently battling for his life, that is. 
“Yeah, s’jus’- what I wanted hah- was to…” His hands sneak down, cupping your heated pussy through your drenched panties. “-taste her. ”
“Oh?”
“Are y’gonna teach me how?”
Oh. Fuck.
You know you’re fucked. Completely and utterly fucked.
Only moments later, Choso’s wrestling you back onto the mattress, face-to-face with your sloppy pussy. So mean with the way he was pinning your hips down with one hand, all but ripping your panties off with the other. 
You feel his piercing before his tongue. Both the hot and cold so maddening on your cunt as Choso licks long, lazy stripes up your puffy folds - dragging his hot tongue all the way from your base. Just grazing your swollen clit. 
“Teach me- fuck fuck-” words muffled and slurring together, vibrations going straight to your pussy. “Use me. Use me how you want.”
You’re threading your fingers through his dark locks before you even realize it, grinding your sloppy cunt all over his waiting mouth. “Quirk your tongue like- ngh-” Angling him close enough so he bullies his soft tongue into your tight pussy. Piercing massaging all the right places. “Fuck-”
“Like this?”
“Sh-shit,” you gasp, nodding deliriously. “S’too ngh- good.”
And by God, did you mean it. 
“Yeah? Y’like this?” he’s groaning, wrapping his lips around your swollen clit. “Can feel you clenching around me. Shit shit shit, you love this, huh? So slutty on camera for it?” 
Getting wetter and wetter by the second as his tongue roams for that one-
“Oh! F-fuck, Cho. Right hngh- there. Deeper-”
Ah, found it.
Choso grins as you tug on his soft strands, you can feel it on your throbbing pussy. Pushing your legs all the way till they’re at your tits to hit that little spot each and every time. Again and again. Eyes glassy, torn between devouring that slutty expression on your face and how fucking drenched you were. 
“Shit, baby,” his words are so strained now, like his sanity was dancing away at each flick of his tongue. “You’re drooling everywhere. See? Show the camera now.”
You don’t have to look. Because you can feel it.
Can feel how wet his mouth is, just glistening with slick and saliva. Trailing all the way down his chin - to his wrist - only second to how sloppy your dripping cunt was. It was like he was getting messy on purpose, like a little reminder to himself that shit this was you and he was eating out your pretty cunt to insanity-
“Oh my god, think m’hooked.” Tongue dragging all over your swollen folds, catching on his piercing. “Think your pretty lil’ pussy’s hah- driving me crazy. Ruined me, Fuck-”
And it’s so embarrassing how he’s talking you through it, grinning at every lil’ whine and whimper that leaves your mouth. You were acting all shy right now in a way that makes Choso’s cock twitch so painfully. He barely even notices, though, with the way he was so drunk off your pussy. 
So messy - unable to decide between rolling his tongue over your ravaged clit and dipping into your sloppy hole. Too much. In and out in and-
“Faster.”
He goes faster. 
“H-harder.”
He goes harder.
Anything and everything for you - to keep those pretty moans falling from your lips, walls getting tighter and tighter around his tongue. And Choso might just consider himself a man addicted.
“Can you ngh- cum f’me, baby?” You flinch as he spits out the words into your cunt. Harsh. Fucked-out. Sounding just as delirious and breathless as you. “Cum f’me please. Wan’ to taste y’on my tongue. Please. Fuck- need it so bad. So bad.”
You’re so caught up in Choso’s pussydrunk little babbles that you barely even realize when you’re cumming. Just that you’re letting out a strangled scream of his name, dragging your sloppy pussy all over his mouth. 
And he has never seemed more blissed out. Long gone is that nervous little expression usually on his face around you, Choso looked like he could be suffocated in-between your legs right now and love it. Hope for it, even.
He tells you that, of course. As soon as you’re blinking back your vision, blood still roaring in your ears. Delicate strings of slick snapping where he parts from your quivering cunt, lips swollen and glossed so prettily with your sweet sweet juices. 
“Baby, y’think the video of lesson one came out good?”
Oh. Shit, what have you done?
---
That certainly wasn’t the last time you saw Choso - or the last time you had him in front of a camera, either.
A few weeks later, you found yourself with an entire album for the man - a hidden treasure trove under the simple name of “Cho <3”. Most of the videos favorited, all sorted so tediously in a way that showed you spent an obscene amount of time looking at all the ways he ruined you. 
So filthy on camera that you always wondered whether it was the same person in the sheets and in class, texting Choso for later. Just to confirm. 
But embarrassingly, only some of these videos made their way onto your Twitter account - with Choso’s pretty face largely out of the frame. The two of you hadn’t ventured into streams yet either, opting to hide him away. Because, okay, maybe you were slightly jealous of other people seeing him - but it was really hard not to be when he looked like that.
In spite of all that, you’d still gained a casual hundred thousand more followers since his appearance - ones who always commented on your solo streams asking where your “hot emo bf” was.
Comments you’d pointedly ignore, because, hell, you wished he was here on-stream helping you get off, too. Yet despite the endless flirting and videos, Choso actually hadn’t made it further than actually holding a full conversation with you. And you wanted more. 
For all you know, you might just be one of his many trysts - and it was just for the videos, right? You get the content, he gets the experience? A win-win situation, so why have you never felt more like such a loser?
Such a loser the way you’ve already lost count of the “lessons” but still haven’t gotten to feel him - to fuck him the way you wanted just yet. 
“S’alright if I take this, right, ma’am?” He smirks during one such session, knuckle-deep in your dripping cunt. Dangling your drenched panties like a badge of honor, flimsy and soaked with your sweet sweet juices. “S’alright if I-” And he can’t even finish the sentence. Your jaw drops as Choso raises the thin fabric to his face, breathing in your essence like a man possessed. 
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-
“You’re so filthy, Cho-” you manage to choke out once you find your voice. Squirming on his bed like such a slut for him. “Was the innocent thing just an act?”
“Nope.” he pops the p, licking lewd little circles on your neck, thumbing open your puffy folds to watch in amazement at the way you glisten and clamp around his fingers. Eyes flickering briefly to the recording phone in his hand. “But we gotta give ‘em a good show, huh?”
Right, you’d forgotten about the camera. But none of that matters anyway because-
Intensity setting 2.
“You’re so mean, too.”
“Am I?” he grins, teeth grazing along your racing pulse. “I think you taught that to me, baby. Shit, lesson 8 it was?”
God, he was addictive.
Choso’s having way too much fun playing around with the intensity setting of the bullet vibrator shoved inside your ravaged cunt. Sending quick, methodical vibrations all along your pulsing clit. In time with the breathless moans leaving your kiss-bitten lips, and it’s all you can to call out for- more? Mercy? Both? 
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-
“God, you’re so perfect. Shit, so messy f’me.” he groans, and you could tell that the video wasn’t going to be uploaded anyway. Too shaky, focusing in and out of Choso’s fingers. Knuckle-deep and pumping in and out of your filthy hole. Relentless. “Almost makes me wanna show off to an actual audience.”
“Maybe I want to, too.” you muse, shifting at his heated gaze. Dangerously pressing your thumb over those nipple piercings you’ve gotten to know so well lately - as if to support your point. God you wish he’d take off that snug shirt.
Intensity setting 3.
“That so?”
And no matter how many times Choso’s ruined you on camera - and watched the videos over and over afterwards - he always thought they weren’t enough to capture your perfection. 
“Such a slut f’me, baby.” To capture the exact moment in which your wet lips fall into a soft little oh! when he massages your walls in time with the pulsing vibrator. To capture that absolutely sinfully excited little glint in your eyes as he ruts his clothed erection against your pussy. “Y’always this dirty?” Quickly turning into a look of slight panic at the sudden jingle of keys from the front door. 
“Yo, brat. Where the fuck are ya?”
Ah, there he was, the reason that Choso usually locked his bedroom door whenever you were over, even if he was home alone. 
Intensity setting 4.
As the silence continues, so does Choso’s abuse on your cunt. In fact, he only gets more erratic - like he wanted you to cum. Needed you to cum right now, right here in front of Sukuna, footsteps only growing louder. Nearer.
“Cho-” you fight to get out the words. “He’s hah-.”
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-
“Can’t speak? That’s cute.” he coos, voice way too relaxed for someone whose mind was reeling with the realization that he couldn’t remember if he locked the door this time, and how adorable you sounded. Enough so that it made some raw, primal part of him wanna pull down his pants and fuck you right here right now. Cockblocks and his own virginity be damned. “C’mon now, use your words like a good girl. Tell the camera.”
Cocky bastard.
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-
“Close!” you yelp, unsure of whether you were talking about yourself or the looming Sukuna. Jaw slack, tears springing into your ears as you look up at Choso. “So close.”
God, you were addictive. And this video was definitely going in both your favorites.
“Mhm,” he hums, movements getting hastier. More desperate. “I know, ma’am.”
Intensity setting 5.
That’s all that it takes for you to cum, letting out a loud strangled moan of Choso’s name. Or, you would’ve - if it hadn’t been for the way he’s shoving two, thick fingers into your mouth.
Silencing you - and in your hazy brain you think that if this was his way of shutting you up, then you really didn’t mind. Because all you could taste was you and the cold, cold metal of his rings. Somewhat intoxicating.
“Shhhhhh.” he’s breathing out, still mindlessly grinding his hips into yours. Though, you realize with a pang that today won’t be the day you get to feel that achingly hard erection straining his pants. “These pretty moans aren’t for him, hm?”
Pressing on the back of your tongue, smirking at the way you nod tearily up at him, moans still muffled. Hell, do you even know how sexy you’re being right now.
“Mhm, all f’me. All for fuckin’ me.”
Knock! Knock! Knock! 
“Why the fuck are you locked up in here on a Saturday night?” Sukuna sounds impatient, but not surprised. Probably imagining all sorts of dorky things his nephew was doing to hole himself up in his room. “Come out n’ get this takeout- what’s left of it anyways.”
And with that, it’s like the magic is over.
Your high only just bating before Choso’s hurriedly ending the recording on a hazy still of your disappointed pout, cursing Sukuna for his impeccable timing. 
Slightly concerned about the door being broken down and someone else seeing you in all your fucked-out glory, he hastily moves to grab the spare cloth by his bedside. Cleaning you up with hushed promises of “sending the recording later”, and “s’alright, he’ll be gone soon.”
Close. You were so close.
A win-win situation - but you’ve never felt like more of a loser.
---
“By God, I never thought he’d get the balls to do it.”
You yelp in surprise at the deep voice from behind you, whirling with a defiant brandish of Choso’s (your?) keys. He’d given them to you a few lessons ago, saying it would make it easier for you to come and go from his apartment as you pleased. Which - to you - felt dangerously like something a boyfriend would say-
But that wasn’t important right now.
What was important was the older man suddenly towering over you right outside Choso’s front door. Big arms crossed over his chest, that leering smirk clashing with his pink hair. “I knew it was odd that brat had a pair of heels by the door.”
Shit. Sukuna.
Ryomen awfully-wingman-his-nephew Sukuna.
“Spill.” At your confused head tilt, he plows on. “Spill the tea. I need new blackmail on my lil’ nephew. How badly did he have to beg you to go out with him?”
You don’t know what was more bizarre - what he was saying or the way he actually pulls out his Notes app as if hanging on to your every word. 
“I-It’s because of you.” you manage to choke out, unsure of what Choso has told his family about you.  Eyes flitting between him and the door right behind you, sounding your very best not to sound just as guilty as you felt. “You’re the reason we have this weird…thing.”
A beat of silence passes. One. Two. 
And just as you’re beginning to wonder whether you’ve broken Choso’s infamous uncle, he throws his head back and laughs. Laughs, right in your face, sounding like he’d just heard the funniest punchline in the world. 
“Oh that’s hilarious.” he exclaims, wiping a mock tear. Cackles dying down as if he was suddenly aware that maybe Choso would hear and walk in on this impromptu interrogation. “Damn, that awful pick-up line is why you started fuckin’? I thought it’d get that sap blocked so he’d stop stalking your account so much.”
“No, we…” you hesitate, mind reeling with what Sukuna just admitted, and how bad it would really be that you’re divulging your sex life to a relative of the guy you’re fucking. Before thinking fuck it, might as well confide in someone. “...we’re just doing stuff for-” putting up air quotes. “-content.”
“Just content?”
“Just content.”
“And you like that fool?”
Your face burns at how glaringly obvious it apparently was, “...Yes.”
This seemingly sets Sukuna off on another wave of uncontrollable laughter. “Ohh, thanks for the blackmail on that emotionally-constipated brat.” Typing away on what you assume to be his Notes, he promptly turns to walk away, “See ya around, doll.”
“Wait!” you call after in confusion, making him stop and raise a brow. “Aren’t you supposed to like- I don’t know, give me advice for your nephew or something - like a good uncle?”
Scoffing, “Who said I was a good uncle?” He leans in ever-so-slightly, “Jus’ rock his world on camera or somethin’ n’ ask him out right in the middle.” Satisfied with being enough of a decent samaritan for today, he walks back with a half-wave, “He’d listen to whatever you say anyway.”
Oh. Is that so?
And Sukuna probably meant it as some joke. Something to tease the both of you with - but it’s something that sets the gears going off inside your head. Something that had you ignoring Sukuna’s slightly panicked, “Jus’ not too soon, I needa bully him with this first.”
---
You didn’t listen to Sukuna’s little plea, of course. Because only a few days later you’d steeled yourself to finally send that one text you knew would change your relationship with Choso. For the good, hopefully. 
You: 9pm my place. Get ready, cuz this time we’re gonna be live ;)
Cho <3: :0 
And with that, you’d thrown your phone on the bed, jittery about later tonight. Browsing through your wardrobe for that one set of barely-there lingerie in his favorite shade of pink. Hey, you could never be too prepared, right?
Nothing could’ve prepared Choso for this moment - absolutely nothing at all. 
He might’ve just died and gone to heaven the very moment he read that dangerous text - finally inviting him to join one of your streams. The ones that he’d always watch in the safety of his bedroom, lights dimmed, pants bunched around his ankles. 
Cock just achingly hard in his fist while he wished he was with you behind the camera. Getting you off so much better than any sextoy would. Just forcing those pretty moans from your lips - and everyone else could see that. Wish it was them ruining you instead. 
Alas, it was only a dirty little fantasy. 
Until now, that is.
slvt4u: Holy shit boyfriend reveal, about time.
uniwhore: THIS is the hottie from Twitter????? 
itsgenslut: idfc just fuck
“Nervous?” you smirk, looking down at the man sprawled so prettily on your bed. “You look just as close to an aneurysm as you were the first time. Though-” snaking your hand down, “-this is still the same as ever.”
You chuckle at the way Choso catches your lips with his, more to shut up those pathetic little moans threatening to escape him than anything. Because every glance at you in that sinful little pink bra gave Choso a mini heart attack. 
“B-baby-” he gasps, grinding his clothed erection against your palms. “I wan- hah-”
“Mhm?”
And God how you’ve ruined Choso - run him so utterly dry of his sanity.
Because he’s angling your head down, piercing cold against your tongue. “Spit.”
It was like that first time had gotten him addicted. So you do - right into his waiting mouth. Jaw dropping at the way he tips his head back, back, back to let it slide so obscenely down his throat. Moaning at just a taste of you, “God, I need to f-fucking ruin you.”
And if there’s anything you’ve learned after all these months with Choso, it’s that anything he says - he does.
The words have barely left his mouth before he’s pulling your bra off, ripping your panties easily off your hips. Each and every little regret about what a shame it was thrown out the window at the first sight of your pretty pussy. 
It never gets old - and Choso could never get enough of the sinful sight - your cunt so sloppy and ready for him already. 
“Cho-” you whine as ringed fingertips coming up to circle your sloppy entrance. Cold. Stretching you to insanity. “S-stop teasing.”
“Yes, ma’am. But first-” shifting you around ever-so-slightly on top of him. “Gotta show off how wet y’are f’me.”
uniwhore: did he just call her “ma’am”?? Me when??
roses101: idk who i wanna be they’re both so fucking hot ugh
“Fuck, y’look so sexy from this angle. Wonder if the camera thinks so too?”
Your face slightly burns at how he was seemingly taking over your own stream. Smug bastard, you think, glancing down at Choso, red-faced, hair untied, wearing a sly grin as his eyes slide over the flurry of comments. But two can play that game. 
“Cho~” fumbling with the hem of his underwear, “You’ve been holding out on me.”
A gasp leaves you involuntarily as you tug down Choso’s boxers just enough for his throbbing cock to spring free, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Blushed your favorite shade of pink - to match your bra - so so angry and soaked in precum. 
He was so intimidatingly long - longer than any of those toys you usually brought on camera. Thick enough that it had you wondering, shit, would you even be able to take it?
“S’this a-alright?” and for all his previous confidence, Choso sounded self-conscious. Peeking at you through his long lashes.
You grin, pumping a hand up and down his swollen cock, letting his precum drip down your wrist. “S’perfect.”
“God- fuck, baby. Oh-” Choso lets out breathless little profanities as you straddle his waist, dragging his weeping tip down your swollen folds. So fucking filthy as you sink down in by fucking in. Slowly. “Too- much-”
Apparently too slow because no sooner have you just taken in his fat tip, squeezing and clenching around him, that Choso’s flipping the both of you over. 
“M’sorry.” he breathes into your mouth as your back hits the mattress. “M’sorry m’sorry, fuck- just can’t-” fingers immediately drawing frenzied little circles on your pulsing clit to take your mind off the dizzying stretch as he bullies his massive cock into your snug cunt. “Can’t wait can’t wait- waited too fucking long. Want this so badly-”
You felt too good. Too perfect around him. 
“Ah! Hngh- Cho, oh my god. Too- ngh-” you moan, as he starts grinding in shallow, mindless little movements just to fit himself inside. Pushing and pushing, you wondered if he even realized what he was doing.
Sounding like his sanity was dwindling away with each little thrust, “S’too big? You can take it. Fuck fuck fuck please. Need this.” Pressing all the way into your lungs. “How do you wan’ it- how do you wan’ me?”
Honestly, Choso didn’t even need to ask, because he just bottoms out - heavy balls smacking against your ass, cock swollen and throbbing inside you - that you think that you just wanted him to ruin you. 
“R-ruin?” his voice breaks as he repeats - more to himself than you. Oh, shit had you said that out loud? You’re speechless as Choso throws your legs over his shoulder, dragging his swollen lips lazily across your ankle. “Yes ma’am.”
Oh. You might as well have just signed off your will. 
Because then he’s fucking into your sloppy cunt. Unforgiving. A man starved because he was. Jagged, quick thrusts, splitting you apart deeper and deeper on his rock-hard cock. 
“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck-” he pants into your open mouth, finding it so fucking difficult to find any rhythm when your tight cunt was milking him so good. “You feel so good. So messy. Ya love it like this, huh? Being hngh- watched?”
“Hngh-” you buck wildly into his body, reaching up to play coyly with his nipple piercings. Tugging and pulling lightly. “Feels too good- are- ah- are ya sure this is your first time?”
Honestly, it was a wonder Choso didn’t cum right then and there. 
Tojisslvt: need someone to fuck me like this the first time
22sabi: Typing with one hand is so hard.
DaStrongest: i could fuck her so much better than than inexperienced loser
Choso throws his head back in a cruel little laugh at that last comment, something that makes you tingle all the way from your burning cheeks to your stuffed cunt. Clamping down deliciously on Choso’s unforgiving cock in a way that makes his hips and fingers stutter. 
“Ya think you could fuck her better?” it takes you a second to realize he was talking to the camera and not you. Thrusts getting sloppier, getting familiar. “I’m the one that got her so messy like this.” Purposeful. Calculated. Like he was aiming for that one-
“Fuck!” you scream as he hits that magic spot. Once. And then over and over like a man possessed. Just so utterly ruining you the way you knew he could. “Cho oh my god- I can’t hah- ngh-”
The cold metal of Choso’s rings dig into your cheek softly as he turns you head to face him. God, this was the stuff of his wildest dreams.
You - teary eyed and looking up at him like such a slut. Pussy getting wetter - tighter - as he teases you in front of the camera. Torn between running away from his relentless cock and bucking up for more more more-
 “Fuck no no no- Keep your legs open, baby. Don’t hah- run away from me.” his fingers dig into your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. “Don’t- need this. Need this so ba- shit.” 
And he sounded so genuinely worried he’d lose the feeling of your heady cunt. Fingers bruising on your hips as he pulls you closer. Like he was trying to fuck out any and every shred of shyness out of your body. 
slvt4u: Always the quiet ones.
DaStrongest: heh, fuck off. i’d make her cum so much harder.
Now, Choso was fucking you like he had a point to prove, and it was probably the only reason he hadn’t passed out from how good your pussy felt wrapped around him. 
Both of you were barely-lucid at this point - and he was out of control now.
Pussy drunk thoughts unfiltered, “No one’s ever d-done this- got me hah- feeling like this.” And you had the distinct feeling he just beat you to your original goal, letting out sweet little babbles into your open mouth - though his hips were anything but. 
So hard that you were sure the creases of your sheets would leave marks for tomorrow - along with his balls on your ass, your ankles on his shoulders, lips searing against yours. It was like he wanted to prove something - to prove he was good enough to- the viewers? To you? 
Knowing your body well enough to hit that one spot over and over until you were sobbing. Fingers erratic on your clit. 
“Cho-” you squeal, tears springing to your eyes as he only gets sloppier. “I-I’m gonna-”
“Cum?” he breathes, as if he couldn’t believe it. And fuck if you weren’t the gates of heaven spread wide open for him then he didn’t know what was. “Fucking cum. Please please- hah- f’me. Cum on m’cock n’ make them jealous. F’me- Like you’re mine.”
You barely even realize when you are. Jaw slack, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you see stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. God, he was gonna have to go home and rewatch this stream all over again. 
“Ngh- m’cumming m’cumming oh-”
Not even realizing the way you’re dragging your nails down Choso’s sculpted back. Marking up his milky skin - and he lets you. 
Loved it in fact- the way he loved you. 
Your eyes go wide, and Choso knows he’s fucked up. Realizing with a jolt that words were tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. But it’s the way you squeeze him tighter- giving him such a gorgeous little fucked-out smile that sends him over the edge.
Sharp canines digging into the crook of your neck like he wanted to break skin, holding himself back from breaking you while he cums and cums so hard it hurt. Over and over-
“Love you- love you love you love you-” he’s muttering into the skin, unbarred. “Since I first saw hah- you. Wanted this more than fuck fuck- air that I breathe.”
His seed was oozing out of you now, painting your ravaged pussy white, dribbling down your legs.  So fucking full and debauched. Thick, hot globs that were sure to stain those overpriced new sheets. But did Choso care for the mess? Not at all. 
Because you were holding him so impossibly tight, pushing away the strands of hair sticking to his forehead. Whispering little praises as he fucks you through his first time. Close. Warm. Everything he ever dreamed of.
“S’everything I ever dreamed of, too, Cho.”
And he knows he’s won. 
urfavslvt: Proudest nut. Want more.
uniwhore: does this mean couples content??? Pls say yes plsplspls
DaStrongest: invite me next time <3
“Thought you were embarrassed.” he licks soothingly over the bite. Voice shot, piercing smooth against his tongue. Embarrassing little confessions leaving him with each spark of electricity running through his veins. “Thought you didn’t stream w’me cuz of that- but shit. Dreamed of this f’so long. So long-”
Oh?
“Hey, Cho.” your voice rings through his hazy mind. Just enough for Choso to raise his head and meet your intoxicating, sultry gaze. Giving a sly, sidelong glance at the still-blinking camera. 
“Mhm?”
“Wanna film a week’s worth of ‘movies’ in advance?”
---
Sukuna (do not answer): Oi shitty nephew, where r u Jin made me come over with (half) leftovers.
You: Sorry, not home. At the movies rn.
Sukuna (do not answer): When tf do u go to movies?? 
You: Since now, on a date. You probably can’t relate.
Sukuna (do not answer): Stfu n’ stop lying, a date with who? Ur body pillow?? Not like u had the balls to ask out that pretty lil’ camgirl anyway.
Haha
Right? 
You: *girlfriend
Sukuna (do not answer): Huh?
You: Girlfriend.
Sukuna (do not answer): THE FUCKIN’ PICK-UP LINE WORKED??
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A/N. This came out a LOT longer than expected. 
Plagiarism not authorized.
8K notes · View notes
inkskinned · 10 months ago
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will you be enough for her, though. little slip child. you hated every time you had to scream to be heard, so you stopped screaming. it feels so fucking demeaning, 16 and shivering, saying please! father! look at me! and having him say in a minute sweetie.
online they're back to making fun of self-harm scars. isn't that funny. we have dropped the silver pretense of empathy and are walking around without any shred of humanity.
are you still shouting? how can anybody love you, then, siren. error signal. your voice so quiet and desperate. nobody is going to help you, stop begging. how can anybody actually look down at you without squashing you flat. oh, darling. you once bit into the back of your hand to stop from crying out, and discovered that it felt too dramatic for repeating.
people like you aren't supposed to cry, because you are too much. you have never meant to, but you take the air out of a room just by walking in. other people can take up room like a sunbeam. you blurt out all your wickedness in oilslicks, everyone can feel it. you slosh yourself over their hands and demand their flinch. you are a bone stuck in the throat.
be more beautiful, more perfect. if you can earn it, they won't abhor you. they might even tolerate you, if you turn the right way and never stand up straight.
but love? her life is a silver fish, a cat paw. your life is a long, thin, impossible desire - angry like a blade. your life is a crack in the floortile. you cannot bring your rotted fruit heart into the church of her hands. you will ruin her. you will overtake everything good for her.
or worse - you will have to beg her look at me. and that moment of desperation will ruin you forever. completely.
deleted scene from body's a bad monster, 9.24.2024
2K notes · View notes
fresitasmoribund · 1 month ago
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What Ifs and How It Was
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-`♡´- pairing: Poly!Wolfstar x Fem!Reader
-`♡´- summary: A late-night conversation with your best friends—Sirius and Remus—leads to playful confessions. The three of you assume enough time has passed for any romantic feelings to fade. But the awkward silence that follows suggests otherwise.
-`♡´- contains: confessions, kissing
-`♡´- masterlist
-`♡´- word count: 3.9k
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You’d never believe the whole “friends-of-the-opposite-gender-can’t-exist” nonsense. It always kind of seemed like an excuse. A way for people to justify turning casual friendships into something way more complicated than they needed to be. In fact, you hated hearing it. You always brushed it off with a sigh or an eyeroll. After all, you had plenty of friends who didn’t fit into those narrow definitions. Until that one night.
You weren’t much of a pub-goer, but that night, something strange pulled you there. Maybe it was the dull hum of the city that night. Or maybe it was the promise of a drink you didn’t have to make yourself. Either way, you found yourself tucked into a corner of the first loud, dimly lit place you could find. You nursed a glass and enjoyed the atmosphere, staying just close enough to any brawls for free entertainment, but safely away from getting hurt.
During your little adventure, you stumbled upon a very drunk man, and his very apologetic friend. Actually, it was more like he had stumbled into you – literally.
Sirius Black was an intoxicated mess of long, unruly hair and had the kind of energy that could ripple through the air like static electricity. One minute, you were sipping your drink, minding your own business. The next, you were knocked sideways by a body that practically materialized out of nowhere. You tried to catch your balance but only ended up stumbling backward.
“Shit! Sorry! I didn’t—” His own laughter interrupted him as he tried to untangle himself from you.
Before you could even process the situation, another presence appeared – calm, collected, and letting a string of “sorry”s fall from his lips. Remus Lupin, his sober friend, helped both of you up with a surprisingly gentle grip.
“You alright?” Remus asked, his voice soft but sincere. His eyes roamed over your face with a mix of concern and just a mild amount of amusement. You found yourself nodding before you could even stop yourself.
Sirius, meanwhile, was still rambling apologies, his words tumbling clumsily over each other in a way that made it clear he wasn’t entirely control of his brain at the moment.
“I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to—” He paused, staring at you with wide, doe-like eyes. “But, hey… you’re alright. You look alright. Maybe even better than alright.”
You blinked – slightly confused – before shaking your head with a smile.
“It’s fine. No harm done.” You straightened, brushing yourself off.
He turned toward his partner, his attention already shifting to something else.
“Moony,” he slurred, nudging his shoulder. “Get the beautiful thing a drink, yeah? It’s the least I can do after practically throwing her across the pub.”
Remus gave him a pointed look with a raised eyebrow, but he didn’t object. Instead, he reached into his jacket pocket for some cash. A small laugh bubbled up from your throat. The absurdity of it all made you suddenly realize how amiable they both were together.
As Remus went off to grab the drinks, Sirius took a step closer to you. Thinking back on that moment, it had been a little too close, but it felt… oddly natural. He grinned, still a little wild-eyed. You could tell that despite the graceless introduction, he exuded a sort of warmth that was impossible to ignore.
“So,” he started, as if you’d known each other forever, “Why are you at a place like this by yourself, gorgeous?”
It was cheesy, and it was a clear attempt at flirting. You’d find out that the drunker Sirius got, the worse his flirting was. You never let him live it down from that day on. But in that moment, there was something about it – the light in his eyes, the tilt of his head – that made you grin.
Before you could respond, Remus returned with drinks in hand. He was a little bemused by Sirius’ antics but was clearly used to them.
“You alright?” He asked, handing you your drink with a small smile.
You accepted it gratefully, still processing the oddness of the situation. “I think so. I’ve survived worse.”
Remus chuckled softly and stepped back, more comfortable now that the initial awkwardness had faded. Sirius, however, was still standing a little too close to you. His smirk widened as he took in your drink and then glanced at Remus.
“See?” Sirius said, raising his glass. “I’m not completely abysmal.”
Laughter passed between the three of you, the unexpected bond sinking in quietly.
Even then, you still had the firm belief that you could strictly stay platonic with friends of the opposite gender. They couldn’t count, right? For starters, there were two of them. And, you quickly learned, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were an inseparable package deal.
Okay, maybe you did have a crush on both of them at one point. But it was almost like they actively tried to make it impossible for someone not to be at least a little infatuated by them. Remus had a quiet charm—the kind that lingered in his soft-spoken words and surprising wit. His pensive gaze always carried an air of controlled intensity. It felt like he was trying to understand you down to your very soul – but never in a way that felt invasive. He carried himself with a reserved elegance, shoulders slightly hunched. If you ever had the pleasure of picking up on a mumbled retort of his, you were sure to laugh. The scars that crossed his face only added to the enigmatic air of mystery around him. He was always your source of calm – perfectly balancing Sirius’ chaos.
Sirius was a natural flirt – his beauty so striking it was almost cruelly unfair. He carried himself with a confidence that tipped toward arrogance, but never quite fell over. That was thanks to the way he could charm the socks off anyone in a heartbeat. He tended to look at people like he could eat them alive if he wanted to – in a violent and sexual way. Everything about him was larger than life – his laugh, his humor, his confidence – and it was hard not to be swept up in his orbit.
They didn’t shy away from touching, either. Sirius didn’t seem to know the meaning of personal space – always draping himself over the nearest friend he could find. He’d sit too close, his thigh squished against yours. Or he would lean in too close to make a point, lips quirking into that devilish smirk whenever he noticed your cheeks flushing. And Remus, although more reserved and respectful, was the kind of person who would grab your hips to gently move past you. Or he’d kneel in the middle of the pavement to tie your shoe before you even realized it had come undone.
There were loads of times that you could have justified having a crush on them.
Like that one time you’d walked straight into a pole, and while Sirius was laughing his ass off, Remus wore a worried look on his face.
“You alright, love?” he whispered, his hands tentative as they cupped your face, tilting it gently to inspect for any damage. His touch was warm, and for that brief moment, the whole world seemed to fade away. You hadn’t realized how badly you needed the comfort until it was there.
But it wasn’t just his hands or the softness of his voice. It was the way his brow creased in genuine concern for you, his amber eyes scanning yours as though searching for something deeper than a bruise.
“You had me scared for a second. Can’t have you broken just yet, can we?” His lips curled into a smile, his thumb gently brushed against your cheek.
You managed a sheepish laugh, waving him off with a dismissive, “I’m fine.” But even as you spoke, he remained. His hands fell from your face to your shoulders, steadying you. Sirius grinned, striding over to you both.
“Oi, let me coddle her too.” Before you could react, he slung an arm over your shoulders and pressed his cheek to the side of your head. “You’re alright, love, aren’t you? Say it’s so, for my sake.”
Or that time you’d brought Sirius a drink at a party.
He was talking someone’s ear off when you found him – gesturing wildly as he launched into a tirade. It wasn’t unusual for him to dominate a conversation. His voice was always a little louder than necessary, and his laugh could cut through the room like a knife. He was magnetic, in that way only Sirius could be.
You didn’t even think about it as you grabbed his empty cup and swapped it for a fresh one. You slid it into his hand so seamlessly that it took him a moment to notice. But he always notices when you do something.
When it seemed he finally did, he stopped mid-sentence. He glanced at the new cup and then at you with a look of exaggerated delight, like you’d just handed him a winning lottery ticket. Without missing a beat, he grabbed your face – careful not to spill his drink on you – and planted a big, dramatic kiss on your cheek.
“Oh, I just love you, darling,” he beamed, eyes sparkling with mischief.
And then, just like that, he turned back to his conversation. He picked up right where he’d left off, as if nothing had happened.
How could anyone not be totally, madly in love with them?
… Definitely not you. That’s for sure.
Your feelings seemed to die down when they began dating each other about a year into the blossoming friendship the three of you shared. It was only a matter of time for them, and you knew that. They shared a longer history, and, truthfully, you had assumed they were already a couple when you first met them. You had even offered advice to both men on how to approach the topic with each other. You were happy for them, and despite the coupling, there was never a time the three of you weren’t together. The dynamic didn’t change much, either. Well, aside from those moments when you’d step out of the room for only a second and come back to Sirius practically devouring Remus’ face.
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The soft, creamy glow of the table lamp illuminated a small portion of the room they had designated as yours after purchasing a flat together. Sirius is sprawled casually on top of Remus, his chin resting on his folded arms. You are next to them, propped up on your side, a pillow tucked beneath your elbow.
While Sirius casually leaned into teasing you as he often did, Remus just… was. The way his hand subconsciously finds its way into Sirius’ hair, twirling a lock between his fingers, spoke volumes without either of them acknowledging it. You knew them both like the back of your hand – their habits and quirks as familiar as your own heartbeat. But in those quiet moments, you’d find yourself wondering what it would’ve been like if the timing had been different. What if you were a little braver?
No. You are grateful for what you have now.
“Remember our first impressions?” Sirius asks suddenly.
Oh, that’s right. The anniversary of that night was coming up. The three of you had been friends for three years now – three years since that night at the pub. Three years of shared moments and laughter.
You glance at him, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, you tripped over me and nearly knocked me out cold.”
Sirius grins, eyes sparkling with mischief. “That’s not how I remember it. I’m pretty sure I was just making a graceful entrance, and you were too starstruck to see me coming.”
You roll your eyes, and Remus chuckles beneath Sirius, the heat of his hand still resting in his boyfriend’s hair.
“You were a drunk and clumsy fool,” Remus says tenderly and full of affection.
Sirius shrugs melodramatically with a sigh. “Alright, maybe I was a little clumsy. But I’m glad we did have our little run in with each other. I’m pretty sure you were already in love with her by then.”
You freeze.
Remus stiffens, but Sirius is undeterred.
“Moony and I have talked about this, and I think enough time has gone by for this to not be as awkward, but…” He pauses for dramatic effect, turning his head toward you, a sly grin on his face. “I actually had a crush on you.”
Your eyes widen slightly, and you fight to keep your jaw from dropping. You were certainly caught off gourd by the sudden confession. You chuckle, brushing it off with a teasing shake of your head.
“Oh, come on. You’re just messing with me.”
Sirius’ grin stretches wider, and he looks like he’s not going to back down.
“I’m serious,” he insists, though the humor still sparkles in his eyes.
“Not this again.” Remus groans.
But Sirius only looked more pleased with himself. “Oh, don’t act like you weren’t gone for her too, Moony.”
Your breath catches in surprise. The comment he made about Remus being in love with you after the first meeting – you thought he meant it as a joke. Your eyes flick toward his face, where he held an unreadable expression.
“What? You’re telling me you had a crush on me too?”
“Oh, you definitely had him wrapped around your little finger.” Sirius raises his head from his arms to narrow his eyes at you before turning to Remus. “Remember that time—early on—when she fixed your tie for you?”
Remus closes his eyes briefly, silently begging a higher power to take him away as his face turns red. You fight the urge to bury your face in your hands.
“You remember that, right? I saw you. You practically turned to stone when she did that. That was the moment I knew.”
“Sirius, please…” Remus lets out an exasperated sigh, but you can see the edges of his lips twitching upward.
You can’t help but smile at the easy camaraderie between the two of them. It was one of the things you love most about being with them – how natural and effortless it all felt.
“Alright, fine. Maybe I did.” He finally looks at you before returning to stare at Sirius. “Can we move on now?”
“That’s so crazy,” you say, fighting back a big smile. “I remember having a little thing for you two as well.”
The laughter that followed filled the room, the three of you lost in the silliness of the confessions. But as the laughter gradually fades, a sudden silence blankets the space. It wasn’t uncomfortable—quite the opposite, actually—but it carries an undercurrent of something deeper.
When what you revealed finally sinks in, you think you must have misheard yourself. What you said was a joke you hadn’t realized you were about to make, right? You weren’t sure if the sudden heat in your cheeks was from the admission or the way the air in the room had shifted so subtly that it was almost imperceptible. It was as if the past three years of friendship, of teasing, of little moments like these, had all been stripped of their platonic certainty and were now clouded by scrawls of “What if?”
The silence is so thick you can almost hear your heartbeat echo in your ears. The room feels suffocating with the weight of unspoken feelings – as if the walls themselves are holding their breath.
You exchange a glance with Sirius. He’s not looking at you with the usual carefree glint—there’s something else buried beneath it now. Something that makes you think twice before meeting Remus’ gaze. He’s looking at you too, but his eyes are softer, more searching than you’ve ever seen before.
In the stillness, you can hear Sirius’ fingers drumming lightly against Remus’ shoulder. Then it stops, and the sound fades to be replaced by the thrum of your own pulse in your throat. Remus’ breathing slows, and you can see the way his chest rises and falls with a rhythm that seems too deliberate than it should.
Your gaze flits between them. Back to Sirius, then Remus. The question hovers in the air, and even though it’s unspoken, it’s painfully palpable. It’s a question you’ve been trying not to ask for the past few years. It’s one that lingers in the corners of your mind every time they look at you like this.
Then, just as the moment stretches taut and thick, Sirius breaks the silence in the only way he can. His voice is casual – too light – almost too loud for the moment.
“Well, that’s enough emotional exposure for one night!”
He rolls off Remus, flopping onto the bed and causing the springs to protest. His hair spills across the pillow, messy from where he had been lying on top of Remus. The tension that has been building up snaps like a rubber band that’s been pulled too tight. It’s broken—but not completely gone.
You can’t help but notice how Sirius’ cheek is flushed with something more than just playful exhaustion, his lips curling into a mischievous smile. He stares at the ceiling in contemplative wonder before he distracts himself by kicking his feet up into the air.
Remus’ gaze is still on you. He looks at you, a beat too long, like there’s something he wants to say but can’t find the words for.
Before either of you say a word, Sirius is already pulling him back into the moment. With a theatrical sigh, he drops an arm around Remus’ chest, yanking him into an easy, lighthearted conversation again. The three of you move on as if the confessions hadn’t resurfaced feelings you thought had vanished a long time ago.
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The room is dark, save for the weak glow of the moon filtering through the windows. You can’t sleep. The silence is suffocating, its heaviness too distracting to lull you into sleep. You’ve been staring at the ceiling for far too long.
You can’t take it anymore.
You throw the blanket off you with a frustrated huff and slip out of bed. The cold floor grounds you slightly as you head for the door. Maybe a glass of water – or two – could satiate the drought in your throat.
 You pad carefully toward the kitchen, instinctually trying not to wake them, knowing both are probably already asleep in their room. The hallway feels endless, your footsteps muffled against the cool wood beneath you. But as you pass their door, something stops you.
A voice.
You freeze, eyeing the light that filters from the space between the door and the floorboards, because maybe your ears were deceiving you. The voice is low, almost too faint to make out. I shouldn’t eavesdrop, you tell yourself – but your feet betray you. You move before you can stop it, drawing closer, until you’re standing close enough to hear. Your heart is racing in your chest.
“Pads, it’s not that simple,” Remus’ voice comes, steady and low.
Sirius huffs from the other side of the room, the sound of the sheets rustling in the quiet.
“It’s exactly that simple, Moony. We just… we tell her.”
Remus sighs in a way that tells you the weight of his thoughts—of this apparent proposition—is pulling him down. “At two in the morning? I think she’d appreciate not being woken up to… this.”
“Because we’ll keep putting it off otherwise!” Sirius’ voice rises before hushing again. He’s trying to gather the right words, being left frustrated but determined. “I can’t keep doing this, Remus. I can’t keep looking at her and pretending like I don’t want—like we don’t want…” His voice trails off, the vexation lacing every word, the quiet desperation in his tone is unmistakable.
Your stomach flips. They’re talking about you, aren’t they?
“I hate it.” He continues. “Feeling this way and not saying anything. It’s like it’s going to rip me apart, and I know you feel the same. Don’t you?”
Silence takes place again, then Remus’ voice breaks the quiet.
“Of course I do, Pads. But what if…”
Your chest tightens. What if? What if what?
There’s a creak of the bed. Then Sirius’ voice intensifies again, louder now. “No. No more of this. Let’s just go talk to—”
“Sirius, it’s the break of d—”
The door swings open.
You don’t have time to step back. You freeze – caught – and there he is. Sirius. Standing in the doorway, his hair tousled, his grey eyes widening as they meet yours.
With no warning, he steps forward. His hands find your face as he pulls you into him. His lips crash against yours with a fierce intensity that you’ve come to expect from Sirius Black.
The kiss is sudden, messy, and it knocks all the breath from your lungs. It feels like lightening, sending a jolt of heat straight to your core. His lips are demanding and desperate, with an undeniable tenderness guiding them too. He sighs against your mouth, his shoulders relaxing as he leans into you. You can’t breathe – can’t think. Everything is buzzing, spinning, and all you can focus on is Sirius.
When he finally pulls back, he huffs in satisfaction.
“There,” he says, as if he’s finally put everything to rest. His hands fall from your face, but his gaze lingers.
Behind him, you can hear Remus groan. He rubs a hand over his face in exasperation, through there’s a subtle smile tugging at his lips. “Well, I guess we’re doing this now.”
You blink, still standing there and completely speechless. You’re sure you must be dreaming right now as your mind races. You open your mouth to say something – anything – but Sirius doesn’t give you the chance. He turns his head to glance over his shoulder at Remus.
“Oh, don’t act so surprised,” he says. “You wanted this too.”
Remus raises an eyebrow, attempting to keep his composure. He rises from the bed and steps forward, closing the small gap between the three of you.
“I’d have gone about it differently,” he teases. He pauses, his gaze locking with yours, his smile widening just a fraction. “But… I supposed he’s not entirely wrong.”
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You’re nestled between them, the quiet warmth of their bed wrapping all three of you like a cocoon. Sirius’ arm drapes lazily across your stomach as his fingers trace patterns and shapes on an exposed bit of skin. Remus’ hair tickles your jaw as his head rests against your shoulder. Sirius shifts slightly, propping himself up on an elbow to look at you. His stormy eyes flicker with something almost boyish.
“You’re finally ours now,” he says with a satisfied grin.
The words hit you square in the chest, sending a flurry of fluttering wildly in your stomach.
Remus huffs. “Couldn’t have put it more poetically, could you, Pads?”
Sirius snorts and rolls his eyes. “Excuse me for not wanting to keep pretending like we haven’t been living in a ridiculous tension-filled love triangle for the last few years.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Remus mutters while you laugh. He glances at you, his amber eyes softer than you’ve ever seen them.
Sirius leans in with zero hesitation, catching your lips in a kiss. It’s playful but loving, and your lips curve into a smile against his. Pulling back, he flashes you one of those grins that causes your face to heat up. He tilts toward Remus next, with the kiss being slower, and filled with the same easy intimacy that’s always existed between them.
When they part, Remus raises his head from your shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. He moves, placing another kiss to your cheek, then your temple, his breath warm against your skin.
“Goodnight,” he whispers against your hair.
Sirius’ arm tightens around your waist as Remus’ fingers lace with yours.
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acid-ixx · 4 months ago
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a/n: shameless self promo for this fanfic.
my favorite thing about portraying platonic yandere! batfam (or any platonic yandere family) is the fact that no matter what universe it is, if you were neglected or not, a villain or hero, civilian or celebrity, human or nonhuman— their obsession is driven by the mere fact that you already belong.
to them, in the manor, with them, always and forever more. it's like a natural phenomena. it's not fate but rather an established fact that you deserve to be pampered like royalty; to the point their devotion seems holy. you could try to run away from them and you'll still be in their arms right after. you could run to the end of the universe and they'll capture you before you could run from time. because that string of attachment they have with you can never be severed. you can never cut ties with what was already engraved into your soul.
you can hate them all you want, and they'll embrace the embers of your resentment, even if they'd rather you reciprocate— you'll still belong either way.
they acknowledge every part of you, every imperfection you bare. you could bite them, hit them, punch them; yet nothing will falter their devotion towards you. because you're family first and foremost more than anything else. the only thing they won't accept is if you ever dare harm yourself— nothing is allowed to hurt you, not even you. because you're precious, you're their treasure and their pride and joy. and if it was them who had ever wronged you, they'll always find ways to repent, to atone and to make you forgive them.
"do you think we're family in every universe?"
"i hope not—"
"but we already are in this one, no?"
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cammys-imagines24 · 1 year ago
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°•Astarion Drinking Your Blood•°
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Oh, Astarion never tires of your taste.
Whether it's his first time drinking from you or the hundredth.
You were his first human after all.
But even if he hadn't of lived centuries slaking his thirst with that of vermin...
Forcing their rotten, diseased blood down his hungry maw in sheer desperation...
The Vampire would still find your blood to be like ambrosia from the gods.
The sweetest thing to grace his tongue and warm his belly.
Sometimes it's hard to stop, if Astarion is being honest with himself.
But he loves you too, too much to put you in any mortal peril.
Though after a feeding you may feel dizzy and need to recuperate the next day.
It's just, after so long dining upon infected, squirming rats with mottled fur and yellowing buck teeth...
In the shadows of night, prowling the pests and repugnant riffraff.
He can't help himself and he's grateful you allow him to indulge a little.
But despite however ravenous he is, he's always gentle.
Pulling you close and kissing the moonlit column of your throat.
Tenderly wrapping his ivory arms around your waist, his tone sultry while whispering sweet nothings and gratitudes in your ear.
Astarion is so well versed in his ministrations that you've come to want him to feed off of you just as much as he wants, no, needs to be fed by you.
You relishing his hands leaving indents in the flesh of your hips and his breath upon your nape...
Often finding yourself tugging on strands of his curled silver locks to pull him closer.
Until no space is between you two. Until his mouth touches your neck.
And once it does, Astarion can't help but close his eyes, an involuntary shudder resounding through his whole body at the perfume of you.
Your essence a seductive potion which the Vampire would gladly, willingly lap up forever and ever.
No matter how gentle and inviting he makes the build up though, there's simply nothing to be done about the initial pain.
Astarion can't help the fact that once he bares his pearly, white fangs and sinks them into the sensitive flesh of your neck that it's unpleasant.
His fangs like two white hot pokers burrowing into your jugular vein, causing a muffled scream to leave you.
Your bottom lip plump from how hard you gnaw at it.
He does hate your scream. It revolts him that he's the cause of it.
But it is a momentary distress from you before you reassuringly comb through his hair again.
And after a few labored breaths, you ease into the pain. Getting used to it every single time.
By then he's drunk on you. Gorging himself on the nectar of your life. The crimson, pulsing river of your very being.
He's practically sent to heaven with each swallow and he never thought a spawn like him would get there.
Once you go slack in Astarion's arms he holds you tight, cradling your warm body. His fingers ghosting over your chest, hips, stomach...
And when your heartbeat begins to slow that's when he forces himself to pull away.
Licking the scarlet stream which drips down the two raw puncture wounds.
Cleaning up his mess all the way down to the start of your cleavage, exposed from your unlaced shirt.
Aftercare is incredibly important to Astarion and he is quick to sweep you up bridal style in his arms.
Tucking you safely into your shared bed and fetching you a glass of cool water.
You, weakened and tired, putting up little fuss but managing to smile at him and reach out to take his hand.
He wastes no time, falling into bed with you and pulling you close so your head is upon his chest.
He keeps you in a vice grip all night long so that any who would dare come to harm you in your diminished state would have to go through him first.
And he damn well would never let any harm come to you, save that of the wounds he assaults upon your neck.
And with you content but exhausted in Astarion's arms he licks his red stained lips and smiles in satisfaction.
He thinks you are a marvel really, to allow him to drink your blood in the first place.
To consent willingly and give him a taste of pure ecstasy.
And with his flushed cheeks and twinkling, enlivened crimson eyes, he places a kiss on your forehead.
Whispering how very much he loves you while you sleep soundly upon his chest.
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cece693 · 5 months ago
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Childhood Friends (Michael Myers x M! Reader)
Summary: You couldn't remember your childhood, so with a plan to return to your old home in Haddonfield for clues, you never expected yourself to be tied to the boogeyman himself, Michael Myers.
tags: childhood friends, Michael remembers you, mentions of memory blanks, happy??? ending
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Your memory was shit. Anything before the age of eight was a void of nothingness and you hated it. Talking to your parents didn't work: 1) they were dead and 2) even when they were alive, they were too preoccupied with the bitch of your sister to pay attention to you. So, with nothing but a measly 300 dollars to your name, you traveled back to your childhood home in Haddonfield.
You didn't expect much from the trip, to be honest—a vague recollection of a location or a friendly face, but not the plethora of history that followed your family. Ignoring the stares as you walked through the streets and up the old stairway to your home, you turned the key and stepped inside. Once the door clicked shut behind you, you finally let out all the pent-up anger you'd been holding in.
You always knew your last name was trouble—your family was composed of delinquents and shady people. Still, you hadn't expected yourself to be associated with the boogeyman himself, Michael Myers. When you saw his name, it was like a gate swung open. Memories came rushing back, one after another, until you were thrown into the past—back to when you and a young Michael were friends. You remembered standing up to his bullies and tending to his bruises when they found him wandering alone.
And more embarrassingly, the pact you guys made. It was stupid—you were both young and naive—but it was easy to promise something to a boy who had nothing. Together forever.
At the time you laughed it off, thinking it was just Michael’s strange way of saying you were his best friend. But he was dead serious. The way he had looked at you, his eyes intense and unwavering sent shivers down your spine. Not wanting to remember anything else, as it was beginning to give you a headache, you decided to take a small nap. That nap ended up being hours. Once you awoke, the room was pitch black, the clock on the nightstand flashing midnight.
"Shit." You murmured to yourself. You had hoped to get more done, to start unpacking the few boxes you'd brought into this old place, but it seemed you needed sleep. With a sigh, you stood and made your way out of the bedroom, intending to grab a snack before going back to sleep. But as you reached the bottom of the staircase, a strange feeling washed over you.
You paused, squinting into the dark living room—perhaps you were going crazy, or sleep still clung to you.
But then you saw him.
Standing in the middle of the room, his back to you, was a tall figure, his broad shoulders unmistakable. For a moment, you were paralyzed, unsure of what to do. The last time you had seen Michael, he had been a friend, but now he was something unrecognizable.
The thought of fleeing crossed your mind, but before you could act, Michael slowly turned around. His face was obscured by the eerie white mask, the hollow eyes staring back at you, unblinking and unreadable. He didn't move, didn't speak. He just stood there, watching, as if waiting for you to take the first step.
"Michael?" you whispered, the word barely audible in the tense silence.
As soon as the name left your lips, Michael began to move in your direction. Your instinct was to back away, and you did, taking a cautious step backward, your heart pounding in your chest. It seemed he had sensed your fear as he stopped, and held his hands up, a silent indication that he meant no harm. Then, with deliberate slowness, he reached up to his face, his fingers curling around the edge of the mask.
Michael’s hands hesitated for a fraction of a second before pulling the mask off. His blond hair, tousled and unkempt, fell slightly over his forehead, framing a face that was older yet familiar. He took a step forward and this time you didn’t move back. The fear was still there but it mingled with something else: curiosity.
Before you knew it, you were standing right in front of him, close enough to see the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. You reached out, hesitantly at first, and then with more certainty, wrapping your arms around him. Michael’s body tensed for a split second, but then he responded, his arms coming up to envelop you in a hug.
His embrace was strong, almost overwhelming in its intensity, and you were struck by how much larger he had become over the years. His frame dwarfed yours, making you feel small in comparison, but there was a strange comfort in it. As if the world could fade away and nothing could touch you as long as he held you like this.
Michael, on the other hand, was ecstatic. After what felt like an eternity, he was reunited with the only person he had ever truly cared for. And now, holding you in his arms, he felt a sense of peace he hadn’t known in years. I will not let you go again, Michael vowed, together forever. This wasn’t just a reunion—it was a new beginning. And he would do whatever it took to ensure you stayed by his side.
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akutasoda · 6 months ago
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title - ''contemplation' beg your pardon'
╰➜they ask you for your hand in marriage and you decide to tease them
dedicated to - jing yuan!
warnings - gn!reader, fluff, confessions, teasing, ep length - 1.7k
a/n: req by @goddessofdestructionsposts! i did accidentally delete half of this last night-
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the dozing general of the xianzhou luofu. a title that held a lot of respect, except the person who held that title loathed it sometimes. jing yuan had a lot on his plate, and he always had - as soon he became an arbiter general, so much had become expected of him. however, he wasn't dumb in any respect and knew exactly what his duties would've been before the title was handed to him, including those that came with leading the cloud knights.
although, throughout all his years in this position, the one expectation that he desperately tried to push to the back of his mind was that of his legacy. being the current general of the luofu meant that he was responsible for ensuring it's stability in the future when he ultimately retired - the divination commission and the xianzhou alliance did have their opinions on the matter, but jing yuan simply cared little for their expectations or suggestions.
jing yuan gave it little to no thought, sure he knew that eventually it would be a pain, but that was future him’s problem. there were many more pressing issues among the luofu and the dozing general would prefer to waste his little amount of energy on them. the general didn't even bother spending time looking for someone to love, it was such a tedious task and he'd prefer to waste his time taking a nap before someone awakens him for proper duties.
---✩
sometimes you truly hated this job. everyday you would drag yourself out of bed and down to the divination commission and work grueling hours for the sake of the luofu’s safety. most days, it wasn't so bad and your coworkers were always friendly and a pleasure to work alongside! it was simply that some days were extremely stressful but you didn't exactly have the right to complain when you knew exactly what job you were applying for.
you understand why qingque spent so much of her time slacking off and playing celestial jade - admittedly she had been demoted down to a ‘door guardian’, a title that she was still teetering on the edge of losing. multiple times you had caught her sneaking off but you never bothered to stop her, and multiple times she had tried to convince you to join her at least once but you weren't so keen on facing the master diviner's wrath.
but for today it was a very tempting offer. however, you wouldn't sneak away to pass your time wasting paychecks on celestial jade. you had a much safer option. general jing yuan himself. you'd known the general for a while, working alongside fu xuan meant meeting him quite often, but you'd known him as your lover for what felt like forever.
admittedly, you shouldn't be using your lover as a way to get out of work but you truly saw no harm in it today, nothing of importance was occurring and you were sure nobody would even notice. and thus, you started to make your way to find your lover.
luckily, you knew that he would be struck in his office around this time of day and so you found him with ease. the cloud knights recognised you every time and never questioned why you were visiting, they always would let you go see the general. you knocked, to be polite, on the door once, then twice and then a third time.
no response.
you sighed and you knew there was only one explanation for why he hadn't responded. pushing open the door, you walked in and promptly shut the door - purposely rather loud. loud enough so that jing yuan, who was asleep at his desk, would stir from his sleep.
he yawned as you made your way toward him, ‘there’s nicer ways to wake me you know?’
‘not as fun though, are they?’ you chided and he smiled before adding ‘and so what brings you here, you know fu xuan will give you an earful if she knew’
‘i could say the same for you’ you quickly responded
you had initially met jing yuan by working alongside fu xuan but you only truly got to know him when you ran into him the first time qingque had convinced you to drop some work and extend your break. and surprisingly, the two of you clicked. occasional passings and meetings eventually became intentional friendly meetings and short after, dates.
and it was moments like these that made jing yuans day. sure you both would definitely get an earful from fu xuan later but that was a sacrifice you both were willing to take. jing yuan would do anything to hold you in his embrace as you both dozed off, and he'd happily do anything to stay by your side forever.
having someone in his life forever never seemed possible, but with you? it seemed more than possible.
---✩
‘yanqing, have you seen the general today?’ you noticed the blonde hovering near the door to your lovers office, perhaps he was there for a reason.
‘no, nobody has’ he sighed in annoyance ‘i’ve been asked to wait for his return’ you hummed in acknowledgement before thanking the young man and making your way to look for jing yuan elsewhere.
it wasn't completely unusual for the general to disappear during the day, most of the time he was simply hiding away to lounge about, but today you hadn't even seen him since you bid farewell in the morning - and from a bit of asking around, nobody had seen him for a while either. concern became rather evident on your face as you searched the spots you knew he frequented on the luofu, he wasn't even answering your messages! an occurrence that could normally be chalked down to him being busy or living up to his title, but you knew that wasn't the case this time.
never in all your years of dating the general had he disappeared for this long or even gone this long without messaging you! and after all these years, you really thought you'd get used to his antics but clearly, this was a new one - a one that made you worry more than the rest.
there was one last place you hadn't checked. it was a little hideaway in the luofu that jing yuan had shown you on a date, a beautiful location that became a site of respite for the both of you. so if nobody had seen the general than surely he must be there? there'd be plenty of time for you to give him a talking to when you actually found his whereabouts.
and he was there. standing there and staring idly into the sky but he seemed to notice your presence behind him and turned to face you. ‘what brings you here?’
‘i could ask you the same’ you replied, he could tell a slight annoyance coated your words and so he made no effort to beat around the bush ‘i needed some time to think’
‘mind sharing what's on your mind then?’ he let out a small sigh before responding, ‘i could, but truth be told’ he let out a small laugh ‘im a little scared about it’
‘the general of the luofu scared? what thought could possibly scare you?’ you wanted to jeer that you just spent ages looking for him and were scared something happened to him, but you decided to save it, hold it over him later.
you'd never actually seen such worry be written across your lover's face, it started affecting you because now you were thinking something serious had happened.
truth be told, it wasn't anything serious, admittedly, for ages now, jing yuan couldn't help but imagine having you beside him forever and for the first time in forever, jing yuan was nervous - and somewhere along the line, his nerves had warped into a slight bit of fear.
he never imagined himself meeting someone like you. someone who constantly brightened his day, someone who stuck by him through thick and thin, someone that loved every single part of him. so he never imagined marrying you, and now that's all he ever wanted. he didn't know if you were ready or even thinking of marrying him but these thoughts plagued his mind for far too long.
so there was no time like the present right?
‘mm something i can't seem to figure out properly’ he tried pulling you into a hug and you obliged, allowing him to rest his head upon your shoulder.
‘is there something i can do to help?’ placing a hand on his head to comb through his hair, an action you found helped him relax and soon he pulled away and replied ‘yes, i think so’
‘i’ve been thinking about this over and over but’ he paused for a brief moment, lips pressing into a thin line as he took your hand in his and settled himself down on one knee.
‘will you marry me?’
the scene was picturesque. the general of the luofu kneeling in front of you with tenderness and admiration in his eyes as he held your hand, eagerly awaiting your response.
you wanted to say yes, and you were going to. this was the man that won your heart but he was also the man who put you through so many annoying times - from making you late on many occasions by simply refusing to let you leave his embrace, slumping himself over you while you try and do something demanding your attention, teasing you day in and day out, to today. a day like many others of making you worry about where he is.
was it cruel to do what you were thinking? yes. but nothing could've really stopped you from answering with a hum followed by ‘i might need to think about this one’
‘i beg your pardon?’ the expression on his face was enough to pull at your heart strings already ‘what do you mean?’
‘it means i need to think about this’ you teased and tried desperately to fight the smirk working it's way across your face.
‘my love, you can't be serious’ jing yuan tried to reason, a part of him knew that you were teasing him but he wanted to confirm. he'd rather die than learn you weren't kidding.
fortunately, you really couldn't keep your facade up for much longer and he noticed this so he sighed ‘you’re awful sometimes you know’ and before you could respond he stood up and pulled you into another hug.
‘i still need an answer’
‘you’re so demanding aren't you?’
‘yes, of course i will’
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astridthevalkyrie · 10 months ago
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xavier thinks you're cruel when you smile. everything about you is different, to the point where it feels like you're just a whole different person sharing the same face as the woman he knew. but then, when he met you as a lightseeker, he'd thought the same thing, that you were nothing like his best friend who didn't have any grand dreams of becoming a grandis knight, and only thought of living today to the fullest because she knew she would not see tomorrow. and then he'd fallen for the woman sacrificing her blood, sweat and tears just so that she could be claimed as his. and as predicted, he's fallen for you for the third time now, and he realizes that your personality could change a million times over a million lives, and he will love you more and more each time he meets you. because no matter what you do and no matter what you are trying to be, your smile blinds him each and every time. and that is what he finds cruel, because it must be cruel to make him fall for that smile again and again and again, and surely there is a limit to how many people one man can fall in love with. perhaps he's the exception, or perhaps it doesn't count because you are still one person. either way, it is torture, torture in its sweetest form that he could never hate you for, because you are not actually cruel, you are far kinder than he deserves.
"mister deepspace hunter," you sing, poking his cheek with a chicken plushie, "you can't sleep, we've only seen two movies."
"how many more are there?"
"three more in this series, and then we start the next fantasy series."
"you're insane," he says sweetly, burrowing further under your favorite blanket.
with a giggle, you lay your head down on his lap, hair splayed out on what he deems is your rightful pillow. "it's not a movie night if we don't stay up the whole night."
he's about to tell you that both of you need sleep, that it's not healthy to stay up this late or to pull all-nighters, but then he gazes down to where you're grinning up at him, and his heart stops for a second, because you are so, so, so beautiful, and he's gone.
sleep can wait another day.
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zayne thinks you're cruel when you speak. you are reserved around him, and while he never thinks you should limit yourself, least of all on his behalf, maybe this is the most merciful path you can take. because once you do start speaking, once you place your hand over his across whichever table at whichever restaurant to go off on an excited ramble about your latest endeavor, everything else fades way. and it is cruel, to make him lose control all of all senses aside from sound. it is cruel to metaphorically force him on his knees to bend and dance to the sound of your voice and your voice alone. it leaves him vulnerable, to pain, to betrayal, to any and every harmful thing that could possibly be surrounding him, when he cannot observe, when he cannot fight, when he cannot be, while you are speaking. when every individual word you speak has its own unique significance, and he would not be able to kill anyone who interrupts you because he would not even realize it happened, too entranced by the spell you cast. he is not his own in those moments, he only belongs to you. and thankfully, nothing does befall him, because you are not actually cruel, you are far kinder than he deserves.
"what do you think?"
he pauses, hand in yours as the two of you walk, blinking at you a few times. "what do i think?"
"yeah, you, doctor," you tease, squeezing his fingers. "what do you think? i've been talking your head off for five minutes."
he is not jarred because he hadn't been paying attention, on the contrary he'd been hanging off your every word. his opinion simply does not matter as much in his eyes.
"i agree with you," he says, enjoying the way you beam at his concurrence, "but what did you think about the other article?"
predictably, you take the bait and launch into another long rant, and he wills this topic to last forever.
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rafayel thinks you're cruel when you sleep. so, so soundly you sleep, sometimes in his own bed because he offers it to you like a fool. you look beautiful when you sleep, which is half the problem, and he knows that it is all sorts of wrong to find you beautiful when he's also paralyzed because of how similar your appearance is to death. from a distance, he could never tell the difference. it is only when he is next to you, holding your slack wrist in his hands, that he can breathe easier by pressing his fingers to your pulse. and he is terrified that one day he won't feel it, because it has happened before. one moment you were there, alive and well and his, and the next you were in his arms, lifeless and limp and somehow still beautiful. so there is no way for him to calm his racing heart when he sees you asleep, and the reason it's cruel is because he knows he cannot disturb you. not you, who works so hard and needs your sleep more than anyone else. he cannot ask you to sit up and breathe and laugh and show him that you're still alive. even though he knows you would should he ask, because you are not actually cruel, you are far kinder than he deserves.
"hmm." your eyes are bleary as they blink awake, hardly aware of where you are.
he slides his arms around you from behind, hiding his face in your neck. "you can go back to sleep, was just making sure you were still alive."
a quiet huff escapes you, clearly annoyed at being woken up for such a ludicrous reason. "don't be annoying."
he wasn't trying to be, this time. "okay," he whispers, "sorry."
you turn all of a sudden, shifting in his arms until you're facing him, with a light glare. another apology is on his lips when you crossly tell him, "i was kidding. you're not annoying."
"i can be. sometimes," he admits softly.
"no." you press a deep kiss to his lips, and he understands now why some humans would rather choose to drown under the sea instead of going back to the surface. "you're not annoying. you're never annoying. i love you. okay?"
his voice is choked the next time he speaks, with your face hidden in his neck, soft puffs of air on his neck letting him know that you're still breathing. a tear runs down his cheek.
"okay."
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mr-ribbit · 1 year ago
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this isn't meant to soften or reduce the objective transmisogyny + additional hate action going into this, but since the people running these harassment campaigns are acting like they're literal baby children who need their hands held to understand anything, maybe this needs to be said:
what you're doing and how you treat trans women on this website is fucking MEAN. if you want to sit there and honestly convince yourself that you're *not* a transmisogynist or a transphobe or a misogynist or any other type of bigot - like if you genuinely believe that and are confused why people are calling you these things - then maybe we need to start from little primary colored building blocks and tell you that you're being fucking mean and rude and actively harmful to real people who read the things you say. im not sure why we need to start off with "trans women have feelings" - just kidding I know exactly why we need to - but maybe you don't.
no matter who you're talking to, do you honestly think accusing someone you do not know of being a pedophile, en masse, behind their back /and/ in a public forum, is a reasonable way to treat someone for making a tumblr post about video games or political opinions? even if you strongly disagree with the post, you think someone deserves to be treated like that by people they don't know? take a second please and sincerely imagine how that would feel. wouldn't it be scary? wouldn't you wonder who the people were who thought this about you - if they're people you know - if they're just a few people that will continue saying mean things to you forever or if there are thousands of people who choose to dedicate their time and energy specifically to making you feel bad? if you accidentally write a post in the wrong tone or unknowingly interact with a shitty person, that there are uncountable people that will keep track of that just to hurt you later? that's fucking horrifying
and to zone in on what's specifically happening here: do you think randomly accusing people of being pedophiles or sexual abusers has no effect on them? like a lot of you tend to excuse yourself in these discussions by saying "I didn't actually see the context of what they were saying" or "I didn't see that they apologized already" or "I didn't actually understand the post was a joke" or whatever other kneejerk response to make sure *you* aren't seen as a bad person. do you realize that makes you look even meaner? you didn't bother to actually follow up on a thought you had about someone before sending them hateful messages or making public accusations about them? those actions are harmful whether or not you like the victim at the end of the day.
believe it or not some people you send this shit to are survivors of abuse themselves, or have their own historical personal reasons to be weighing in on a touchy subject. when you baselessly decide it's ok to call someone an abuser of any type, that person is probably *also* disgusted by whatever horrible shit you're accusing them of. as someone that hates these things as much as you do in order to attack someone for them: what do you think it's like to have complete strangers think that about you? how many eggshells would you walk on if random people thought so little of you that they were ok doing this?
it's mean. it's heinous, cruel bullying, and if you genuinely think you are not doing it from a place of transmisogyny or hatefuk bias over the victims' identity, then you need to understand that that's not an excuse. "i didn't even know she was trans" ok, it was still mean to call her a pedophile with 200 of your closest friends in public. "im trans so it can't be transphobia" ok it was still mean to assume someone was endorsing abuse when they were talking about being accused of abuse. "i didn't see the post where she said it was a joke" ok it was still mean to actively harass someone without bothering to look into the full context.
at the end of the day, yes, obviously I still think you're all transmisogynist assholes who are clearly willing to gang up on a woman who has nothing to do with your problems simply because she dared to speak on them. i think you're bigoted and unwilling to examine that if it means giving up your vitriol against someone who doesn't like your favorite video game or whatever excuse of the week. but like even if you were just doing it for love of the hate game, it's fucking weird heinous shit and i hope you're happy having that be a central part of your life
to be clear: im not transfemme and if I'm overstepping or talking over anyone please let me know. im not speaking for anyone's actual experiences except my own, which is the experience of being angry at how much literal bullying and harassment I see excused on this so-called progressive queer blogging website
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3amfanfiction · 3 months ago
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And We Go again
Simon broke your heart when he left. Is he surprised that you moved on? Why is he showing back up? cw: none, 4k
[Thinking about a Simon Riley who breaks your heart. You’d been together for years when it became too much for him. The constant worry for your safety, the fear that someone would track you through him, it twisted his mind and the only way forward in his thoughts was to cut ties. Cauterize the wounds so the nerves were deadened, no chance of someone finding a sensitive spot.]
He cut ties completely, right from the beginning. No phone calls, no text messages, no contact. He turned into his call sign and was a ghost. Nothing physical remained, only the memories in your mind.
He had the decency to tell you in person. If nothing else he wasn't a coward who hid behind text messages. The argument lasted all night—you trying to convince him you were fine, that nothing was going to happen and him being adamant that his presence was putting you in danger.
He wouldn't listen.
Every point you made had a rebuttal, he had clearly come prepared. But you couldn't help the attempt. Showing your soft underbelly as he cracked you open while extracting himself from your lives. Leaving fissures in your panoply as you tried again and again and please listen to me.
"We were supposed to be forever," your voice broke halfway through, choked by emotion. Sitting in the kitchen, you watched Simon where he stood against the counter, even now trying to put space between the two of you.
"Sometimes—" he swallowed, gaze steady and far too emotionless for someone causing such harm, "sometimes things don't work out like we've planned and we have to adapt and re-strategize. This is one of those times."
"Adapt and re—? I don't want to adapt and re-strategize, Simon!" You turned pleading eyes on him, fighting your tears with a herculean effort, "I want you here with me." You slammed a finger down on the table in emphasis.
Your chest ached. Your heart felt like it was slowly being eaten away with every word from his mouth. Corrosive acid flowing through the veins and corroding the tissue. Slowly eating away until there was nothing left.
"I'm sorry."
he'ssorryhe'ssorryhe'ssorry.
"If you were sorry, you wouldn't be leaving." You could feel yourself losing the fight, against the tears and the breakup both. It wasn't fair. Why did he get to come in and decide you're better off apart? Didn't you get a say?
Not fair not fair not fair. You two had made plans together. You were going to buy a house, maybe get a dog years down the road. None of that was going to happen if he left.
And if he wasn't here anymore, if you didn't have him to lean on, what was going to happen to you?
"I don't know what I'm supposed to do by myself," you broke into a sob, no longer able to hold back. Thick tears ran down your face, "I don't know what to do, I need you, Simon."
Simon walked over and pulled you up out of your seat and into a hug, holding tightly, pressing your face into his chest. You fought it at first before crumpling into him, letting him be strong for the both of you.
One last time.
"You'll be all right. You're tough, you're going to get through this."
It almost made it hurt worse that he was still comforting you, even as he was ripping your heart out. If he was an asshole then at least you would've been able to hate him.
You felt the fabric under your face become sodden with tears as you struggled to bring yourself back under control. It was the work of minutes before you're able to look up at him again, eyes red and swollen but tearless once again.
Seeing his apologetic face above you filled you with annoyance which turned to anger the longer you looked at him.
[At first you were so angry at him. Why? Why did he do this? You were both fine, nothing had happened and nothing was going to, he was just being dramatic. He was hurting the both of you for no reason.]
"No! This is stupid!" you shouted, losing your temper with a frown and a shove, separating yourself from his embrace, ignoring his reaching hands as you take a step back. "You're running because you're scared. The big bad Ghost is scared of something that might happen."
"Sweetheart," he tried, palms faced upward, reaching, tone calm in an attempt at appeasement.
"Don't touch me!" you cried, cutting him off, slapping his hands to the side, "You don't get to act all high and mighty. You're choosing this. You're still stuck in the past, thinking that what happened to your family is going to happen again and it's not!" your voice cracked on the last word, doing nothing but angering you further. You grit your teeth and stuck your chin out, looking to cause hurt equal to what you were feeling, willing to try anything to ease the agony, "You're choosing to end what we have, forever, because you're being a baby. When this whole thing is because you're a little kid who's afraid of the dark, afraid of the past."
"And what if I am?" He finally broke, voice raising to match yours, "I'm allowed to be scared sometimes too! Do you know what it would do to me if you died? If you died because of me?" his face curled into a look of pain so deep it came across as disgust. Needing nothing but the echoes of you being hurt to cause shock waves of agony to ripple across his soul.
"You're not listening to me Simon, I'm not going to die," you tried again, frustrated, knowing it was a futile effort but unable to stop reaching for him, hoping that this time he would reach back.
"Everything around me dies!" he thundered before pulling himself back together, taking a breath to recenter himself. "Everything and everyone. I've watched it in real time, I won't do it again with you." He took a moment to breathe, face evening out, "We're over."
[But he wouldn’t listen, convinced that he had the right of things. He packed up his things and left--leaving you crying at the kitchen table, not looking back.]
He left you in the kitchen, heading towards the back of the house only to quickly return, bags clutched in his hands.
He planned this. He must have if he was already packed and ready to walk out the door. You never had a chance of changing his mind.
"I'm rotten, through and through," he hesitated by the door still looking at you, not wavering for a moment, even when it was painful, "and I'm doing what's best for you. You don't see it right now but you will one day." Looking at you one last time as if to memorialize you in his mind, he turned and walked out the door.
"You're a coward, Simon Riley!" You shouted, waiting until the door was shut before breaking down into gut wrenching sobs, crumpling forward to bury your face in your arms and wail.
[You move on. If he thinks you’re going to pine for him forever he’s mistaken. The best thing you can do for yourself is to try and be happy. Whatever that looks like.]
You made it to the grocery store and the corner bookstore this week. You were angry at the fact that being able to go two places was a milestone. You expected to lose a lot of things when a relationship ended but this was a bitter truth.
Everything reminded you of him and what you'd lost at first. The street corner where he snuck a kiss, the grocery aisle where you squeezed his ass and made him jump three feet in the air, the park that had the pop-up hot chocolate stand you stopped at the day you were caught in the snow.
You hated it.
If it would have been reasonable, you'd have moved. Packed up what you wanted and left the rest. But moving took money and you were down to one income now. You would be staying right where you were and would work through your triggers as they came.
And they weren't shy about making their presence known. You had broken down more times than you cared to count over the weeks since he left, some days not even able to leave the bed. It was horrid and felt like you were trapped in a nightmare.
It wasn't sustainable. You couldn't live the rest of your life having a break down every time you thought you saw Simon in a crowd, every time you caught a whiff of his scent, every time you thought you heard him saying your name. You were miserable and you didn't want to be.
So you set about to change it in any way you could.
[You put in the work. You find out who you are single, who you are when you don’t have Simon’s shadow standing behind you, and what brings a smile to your face.]
You knew what you were working towards, you just didn't know how to get there. How do you heal from a wound that ripped you in two? Your anchor, your person, was gone and you needed to be okay standing, however unsteadily, on your own feet.
It seemed easiest to start with the small things.
You signed up for a painting class. Once a month you sat in a room with a handful of other people and you all painted the same picture. Some months turned out better than others but it did what it needed to, it got you out of the house.
You even made new friends which you weren't expecting.
They encouraged you to continue branching out. Figure out what made you happy. You liked the painting classes, although you're unsure if it's the painting or the people who made it enjoyable.
You tried a book club and a needle-point class but neither were quite what you wanted so you kept searching. Indoor rock climbing, weekend dog walking, ceramics, working on a theater backdrop for the local school—if it was something you could jump into, you tried it. Each class was a page in your book, perhaps not a lot by itself but it slowly told the story of who you were.
It took a while but you started to figure out who you were, the things you enjoyed, what made life a little more.
[You weren’t expecting to fall in love again. She’s wonderful, so it happens quickly.]
You made a friend at the painting classes you still went to, every other week now. She was one of the instructors and you saw her every class.
It was surprising how easily she made you smile.
It didn't take long before she was sitting you up front, closest to her when setting up for the evenings. You began to have inside jokes, knew each others preferences, good-naturedly teased one another.
It frightened you when you realized what this feeling growing inside of you was. You were trying to get over heartbreak, not set yourself up for another round of hurt.
You tried to pull away, telling yourself it was for your own good, it was for protection. But she wouldn't let you. She reached out when you went silent, asked after you if you skipped a painting class. She made sure you knew you were wanted and that your presence was never a burden.
That you were never a burden.
When she asked you out there was only one answer.
[Sweet and kind, she has a steady head on her shoulders and she loves to make you smile. She’ll pepper kisses across your nose and cheeks, tuck her hand into your back pocket to squeeze your butt when you least expect it, and always has your favorite drink at her house.]
You took it slow, which was a struggle with how easy everything was.
Lunches turned to date nights turned to day trips turned to sleepovers.
Things weren’t perfect but they were good.
If you disagreed, you discussed it. No arguments, no hurt feelings, just conversations. And she was so demonstratively affectionate you never had to wonder about her feelings. She showed them in innumerable kisses dusting your face and any skin she could get a hold of. If you were walking she had your fingers threaded together, occasionally bringing your hands up to her mouth for a kiss or a tiny nibble.
You were standing in line at the grocery and she came up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist and placing her chin on your shoulder to wait, whispering in your ear about these shorts make your ass look perfect, baby before giving it a squeeze. Laughing at your resultant yip and looking innocent when the cashier turned to look at you, as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.
[How could you not fall in love with her? When you think the word home her face is what pops into mind. Her laugh is what you hear when you get caught out in the rain, soaked and irritable-it always calms you down, her smell when the annoyances of the day gets to be too great.]
It didn’t surprise you this time when you realized your feelings. It had been a long time coming, slowly growing with each kind word and cheerful moment shared. Now that you could see it was there, you were surprised you hadn’t recognized this wellspring of love before.
Because you did. You loved her. And you weren’t scared of it. It was hard to be scared when you knew she was right there with you.
You realized it after an exhausting day at work. Everything that could go wrong, did. You were short staffed and a delivery which was supposed to be there the night before never showed up so you had to handle it.
It was exhausting and you were tired and wanted to cry.
Your phone lit up with ‘Babe’ on your way home. It was her warm, hi baby, that had your shoulders lowering from your ears. She kept you company the whole way, listening to you about your day and the mishaps you’d had to deal with.
By the time you walked through the door she was putting the finishing touches on one of your favorite comfort meals, the couch was set up with everything you could need and the TV was queued. When she smiled at you, you really did break down with a sob, too overwhelmed at the gesture to hold back.
She let you cry on her shoulder while she rubbed your back.
[So you twine together, tighter and tighter as the months go on, milestones and anniversaries coming and going. Until one day you hear a knock on the door.]
How long had you been together? It felt like forever and not at the same time. You knew it has been long enough that you’d started setting money aside each month. Something that would go towards a ring in the future.
You were cleaning the kitchen while Babe was in the back, having given your pup Cooper a bath and now trying to get him semi-dry before he hopped up on the bed or couch.
You could hear her singing to him as she dried him, a little ditty she made up just for him—Cooper, Cooper, you’re such a trooper, look at that handsome smile, look at that shiny coat, you’ve got so much style, please sir can I get a quote?
Cooper knew his cue and gave the tiniest little boof at the end. You smiled as you pictured the scene, knowing she had given him a kiss between the ears at his participation.
You’d finished wiping the counters when you heard the knock.
[It’s a booming knock, one you haven’t heard for quite a time. You know who it’s going to be before you ever get to the door, your partner returning from the back of the house, making her way towards you.]
It was a knock from fists too large to rap gently and too used to battering down doors, besides. It had been years since you heard that sound and your breath started to pick up as your feet automatically took you to the door, helpless to stop the catastrophe before it began.
You had been doing good! Things were better now than they had been for a long time, why was he showing up at your doorstep? You didn't want him here!
It was like a Pavlovian response. The last time you saw him you had experienced pain your mind shied away from even now. You can’t help but to feel his return was going to bring that pain back too.
You reached the door and pulled it open after only allowing yourself a steadying breath, looking up, up, up at him.
Simon.
[He hadn’t changed much in the time he’d been gone. Although it’s hard to see any new scars when he was covered up like that.]
You had forgotten how big he was. How if you only looked at his mass instead of his eyes it was easy to be intimidated by his size.
But you knew this man. You had seen him cry when his nightmares became too vivid, had rubbed his back as he vomited into the toilet, listened to the most heinous cough first thing in the morning when he was trying to clear his throat. He was undoubtedly just a man, no matter how forbidding.
He looked good at least. He had a healthy weight on him and you couldn’t see any wounds. New scars were still to be determined though.
You wondered if you were allowed to see under his mask any more.
[“Simon,” a sigh, already tired knowing him showing up on your doorstep could be nothing but trouble.]
“It’s been a while,” you said, forcibly calm, staying in the doorway, keeping him outside. You couldn't be hurt if he stayed outside, right?
You wondered what brought him here, now, after all this time. You didn’t separate on good terms—he made sure of that. You weren’t the type of exes to drop by each other’s house or send Christmas cards. Hell, you didn’t even bump into each other in the store.
“I hope I’m not interrupting,” he rumbled
You wondered what he would do if you said, yes, you are interrupting, you’re no longer wanted here. Would he argue? Or would he turn around and leave?
Which did you want?
“What do you need?” you asked instead, avoiding his statement.
[Arms wrap around your waist before he can respond, who's this? and you don't hesitate to share. You have no interest in keeping secrets.]
You startled when she touched you, too focused on Simon to recognize her footsteps coming up the hallway, headed your way. Cooper was probably shut into the bedroom so he wouldn’t dart out the door. As her chin tucked onto your shoulder, she asked, “Who’s this?”
How did you explain Simon? How did you tell the woman you hoped to one day marry about the man you had expected to marry? That guide wasn’t in the latest how-to quiz on the internet surprisingly.
Still, she made it simple for you. She was incredibly easy to talk to, both when you were learning who the other person was and over the course of your relationship. You had had these conversations with her before. On nights when you had woken up crying or weekends when the drinks flowed freely. You had talked about who Simon was to you, what your relationship with him was like, the expectations, and then the eventual end.
So really, all you had to do was introduce them.
“Babe, this is Simon.”
[She offers him a warm cuppa because that's the kind of person she is. You'd like nothing more than to close the door in his face, uninterested in opening yourself back up to the hurt. Your tether to him was a scarred over nub, nothing there to support leftover feelings. He made sure of that.]
You weren’t sure how you all got to the kitchen. It was as if it was instantaneous between one blink and the next. It was utterly your partners doing, though, of that you were positive. And as you cradled the steaming cup of tea in your hands you realized again how thankful you were for her.
But you still didn’t want Simon here. In this sanctuary you’d made, free of his influence. He hadn’t pulled any punches when he ended things and you found yourself unwilling to be back in a situation where he could hurt you again.
You didn’t know what to say to him, how to start a conversation anymore. You used to be able to ask him anything, now you couldn’t even ask if everything was okay.
Seeing him sitting across from you at the table was surreal. You had come to terms with never seeing this again so it was shocking. You felt like you were concussed, your thoughts jumped from one topic to another, never staying on one thought all the way through. You didn’t know how you were going to handle tonight.
Babe must have taken pity on you because she stepped in and took up the conversation, starting with introducing herself. It let you zone out. You were aware of the cadence of tone between the two of them but the individual words felt muffled as though spoken through a thick door.
What was he doing here. You didn’t want to see him.
You didn’t.
Right?
Obviously you were happy he appeared unhurt. Even right after the breakup you hadn’t wished him ill. Did that mean you still cared for him in some capacity? You thought that it might.
You tuned back in as chairs scraped across the floor, the other occupants both standing before heading to the living room, Babe making a detour to grab bedding from the hallway closet before meeting Simon by the couch.
[Why is she offering to let him spend the night? Babe you don't need to do that . . . babe?]
What did you miss? You weren’t paying attention but surely you would’ve heard her offering him a place to stay for the night. She knows she doesn’t have to do this right?
You kept quiet while she made up the couch, still not ready to have a real conversation with Simon and it seemed he felt the same way with how he made sure to keep your partner between the two of you as often as possible.
You decided you didn’t want to be here anymore. You’d reached the end of your rope, unable to play at indifferent any longer. Spinning on a heel you strode for the bedroom, anything to put distance between you and the feelings you felt bubbling up like acid, corroding your throat and causing your nose and eyes to burn. Just like when he left. You knew him showing up was going to cause you pain.
It was eons before she made her way back to the bedroom with you. Watching as she crawled under the covers you asked, “Why is he here? Why did you let him stay?”
“Because he needed it.”
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morguecuts · 5 months ago
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Love Laced Caffeine
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five hargreeves x fem!reader synopsis: lovey dovey morning with five :)  word count: 1.1k tags: lots of fluff and cute moments  authors note: i love adding pre-story lore, but if im too detailed pls yell at me, okay thx enjoy! dedication: my bestfriend @solspina who sits with me everynight as i write. i love you forever. check out her work if you enjoy warhammer, the stories are absolutely incredible.
♱⛧ ⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨ ୧⋆ ˚。 ⋆⛧♱
the constant impending apocalypse is no longer a worry ever since the world was saved. special abilities have only ever been used in a joking, or more importantly an emergency manner, since then. you met the umbrella academy in 2019 but are now 3 years deep into a very loving and committed relationship with arguably the grumpiest family member, five hargreeves. 
he was surprisingly the sweetest person you’ve ever met. the overprotective nature of his actions was incredibly attractive. his words were only ever gentle towards you, a walking example of hating everybody who wasn't his lover. his “old soul” showed itself in the way that he treated the relationship with you. 
he constantly took you on dates, sometimes small, like watching a movie at the nearby theater, or larger, like trips across the world to go sightseeing. five bought you a multitude of gifts since you’ve been together as well. the most cherishable was the silver chain that dangled from your neck, symbolizing the first time he admitted he was in love with you. ever since then, you’ve dedicated yourself to being the only person he will ever need. to this day, he is still trying to repay you for loving him this hard. 
there was always a peaceful sensation waking up in the academy house. the feeling of being surrounded by those who love you, everyday, brings a smile to your face. the siblings agreed on not moving out for a couple years, taking time to overcome the years of trauma collected more recently. although you would like to have your own place with your boyfriend, there's no harm staying here with everyone else for a while longer. 
you remove the weighted sheets off five’s bed allowing the breeze to strike your body. the shock of the cold floor sends a bone chilling feeling starting from the bottoms of your feet, all the way to the tips of your hair. there's a slight grumble coming from the boy still lying in the bed. a combination of annoyance and sadness stretched across his half-awake face. 
“please, a couple more minutes..” his face turns to face your direction, sleepy eyes barely open but still pleading with yours. a lone arm reaches out to grab yours, a small attempt at preventing you from leaving.
“as cute as you are, i really want to go downstairs for coffee.” you lean into his touch, bending down to place a kiss on his lips. a smile creeps upon the boy, a sly hand wrapping around your waist dragging you down onto his chest. you let out a surprised eek before giggling. 
“can you survive 20 minutes without coffee?” he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, rubbing your back subconsciously.
“fine, 20 minutes and then i’m getting up without or without you.” you look up smiling at him, the boy leaning down to kiss you once more. his gentle touch makes you sigh into him, melting into his body, relaxing against his chest. he pulls away and wraps the bed sheets back over the two of you. 
the combination of a cold room, warm bed and safe boyfriend creates a comforting environment, your eyes fall drowsy before slipping into darkness. when you awake, the bed is empty, no five to be seen anywhere. you rub your eyes confused, sit up for a moment and sigh. a faint smell of coffee is brewing in the distance, most likely in the downstairs kitchen. you decide to follow the scent trail in hopes that your boyfriend is waiting for you at the end of it. 
the house is peacefully quiet, a gentle hum lingers over the hallways. you make your way down towards the rest of the house, whispers and giggles come from beyond the doors of other bedrooms. you pass viktor going up the stairs as you come down, greeting with a cheerful embrace and soft smile. 
“seen five anywhere?” you ask, pulling back.
“hmm, kitchen i think? was making pancakes when i passed by” he smiles at you before turning to continue his journey upstairs. with a small nod, you thank him.
rounding the kitchen's large wall, you see five standing over what seems to be the pancakes cooking on the stove. his back is facing you, unaware that you entered the room. his hair is still messy as if he woke up moments ago, loose black sweats hang from his waistline, a green jumper embracing his torso. the record player sits in the living room, playing distant calming jazz music as five hums along. 
you creep up behind him, wrapping arms around his waist and laying your head onto his shoulder. his body tenses for a minute before relaxing, his arm bends backwards to hold your waist, pressing you into him. 
“good morning, love. i was going to bring this up to you, but now you’re already here” he speaks while flipping the soft flannel cake on the pan. he gently places the spatula onto the counter, spinning in a circle to face you. your hands still wrapped around his stomach carefully, holding his touch.
“mm sorry, i smelled coffee and knew i’d find you somewhere nearby” you smiled up at him, his deep brown eyes staring back before leaning down. he places a gentle kiss upon your lips, hands cupping your face as he does so. you lean into his hands, kissing him back while running hands to the back of his neck.
his hands rest on the backs of your thighs momentarily before he bends into a swift motion, picking you up and gently setting you down onto the closet counter. you pull back from him, laughing at his action. he shoots a grin in your direction before turning back to the well toasted hotcakes. there's a peaceful silence between the two of you before he speaks up once more.
“coffee is still hot, want me to make you a cup?” his loving tone swoons you everytime he offers to do even the smallest things. you nod yes before he swiftly turns to begin making the warm beverage. the boy presents the drink just how you like. it didn't take him long to memorize exactly how you favor it.
everything he does for you is a constant act of service, from a small cup of coffee, to a full platter of breakfast foods, or even carrying you upstairs to lay together once you’re happily full of food. his love for you is laced in the caffeine high that he brings with every kiss.
 ♱⛧ ⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨ ୧⋆ ˚。 ⋆⛧♱
thank you so much for reading!
i hope you’ve enjoyed it, please feel free to make any comments or story requests down below. any support is always appreciated <3
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luckykiwiii101 · 5 months ago
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Tough Love, Oops, I meant Tough *Hate
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(There’s nothing comforting or kind for you to read in this post, and i’m going to be very harsh, if you can’t handle that, then don’t read.)
Hey Pathetic Upper East Sider.
Here are some fun facts about you! ->
- You’re the reason you don’t have what you want. You blame your circumstances…when in reality it’s actually all your fault and only your fault.
You’re pathetic.
- You aren’t persisting because you’re too lazy to pick a new story and fulfill yourself with it. Talk about self harm, but mentally.
Pathetic
- You’re going to continue to stay miserable because you find comfort in it.
Pathetic
- Ignore all the bloggers that tell you that you can manifest anything you want. Plot twist. You can’t. Because you won’t persist.
Pathetic
- You clearly don’t love yourself. At least not enough.
Pathetic
- You have no aura. Infact, you are an insult to aura itself. Aura runs from you. At full speed.
Pathetic
- You can’t even do something that requires not even moving a muscle.
Pathetic
- The audacity. Of you. Burning in hell. When you’re not even dead yet.
Pathetic
- The devil himself would be kinder to you, than you are to yourself.
Pathetic
- I always wondered how much self hate it took to destroy your own life, but looking at you…now I know.
Pathetic
- You’re not even living, you’re surviving.
Pathetic
- When your life goes downhill, how does it feel knowing even you wouldn’t have the will to save yourself..?
Pathetic
- No one will be there for you, because nobody understands that you have the power to change your own life. They’d never understand. No one is here for you. No one understands you. No one.
Pathetic
- Way harsh but suicide doesn’t seem any worse from this.
Pathetic
- You’re the reason you’re going to end up crying tomorrow. You’re the reason your pillow is drenched at night. You’re the reason.
Pathetic
- You’re never going to be happy. And it’s all your fault.
Pathetic
- You’re the villain that the audience actually wants to get rid of.
Pathetic
- No one on this app cares about you.
Pathetic
(Do I sound harsh enough yet? Well maybe because you let the truth be harsh).
- Again, it’s all your fault.
Pathetic
- People younger than you are out there living their dream lives.
Pathetic
- Let go of all that hope for the future. The future’s got nothing for you apart from eternal misery. I would say you have nothing but misery is far from nothing.
Pathetic
- Delete your vision boards, they’ll never be your reality. Now they’ll only make you miserable. What sane person stares at things they know they can never have?
Pathetic
- If you really had it in you, you would’ve done it by now. Or at least tried.
Pathetic
- The fact that you think this is all difficult.
Pathetic
- The audacity you have to feel bad for yourself. Don’t cry at the fact that your life is miserable. Cry at the fact that it’s all your fault.
Pathetic
- You’re powerless. With power comes persistence. And you’ll do anything but persist.
Pathetic
- You’re not going to persist today, you’re not going to persist tomorrow, you’re not going to persist next week..
Pathetic
- Tomorrow you’re going to wake up, with nothing you want. And your lack of care for yourself is the reason why you’re going to live like that forever. Enjoy your 9-5. If you can even get one..
Pathetic
- The fact that you think i’m kidding.
Pathetic
- The fact that right now you’re telling yourself “maybe i should persist” when you told yourself that months ago…and here you are. Same old same old…
Pathetic
- It’ll reach 2026 and you still won’t have anything you want.
Pathetic
- Remember all that excitement you felt reading those success stories?…funny how it’ll never be you…
Pathetic
- The fact that the only reason you probably saw this is because of the #loasuccess tag, when you can’t even relate..
Pathetic
- You’re never going to have what you want. You gave up ages ago when you decided to not persist. I think it’s time you truly accept it. You’re never going to have what you want. Read that again.
Pathetic
- You don’t have tomorrow to redeem yourself because you’re never going to stay consistent with yourself and persist. You’ve already tried that before.
Pathetic
- You’re hopeless.
Pathetic
- The fact that all this is to you, is just words on a screen, and not your actual reality.
Pathetic
- And the worst of them all…you’re going to read this, feel bad, and just keep scrolling. As usual.
Pathetic.
Happy miserable scrolling, as your miserable little finger scrolls from this post, and your miserable little eyes skim the words of the next, as your miserable little child self watches you crush their dreams, and take away everything. everything. everything.
You are actually just…pathetic. It’s pitiful. I know.
P.S. Did I forget to mention? You’re pathetic.
- gossip girl
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suikung · 5 months ago
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may i request some shikamaru x lil!sis headcanons?
| Brother!Shikamaru
| TW. Incest
Shikamaru was the prized sibling in the family, and the Nara clan. From the moment he started in the academy, his genius was noticed. Your parents equally loved you, however you could tell they knew you weren’t as gifted as Shikamaru. And Shikamaru obviously knew that. But to him, it’d be better for it to stay that way.
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You started the academy a year after him, and immediately the instructors could tell a difference between your brother and you. They held you to such high standards because of him, and when they weren’t met, all you would receive was a look of disappointment. It crushed you to know you’d never be as good as him. But it didn’t deter you from training hard day and night.
He didn’t allow you to have friends, even if he did. It was always something along the lines of “They’re just a drag you know. No need to concern yourself with them.” It almost felt he took all the friends for himself so there wouldn’t be none left over for you.
He was and continues to be the biggest manipulator. His words might seem innocent to any pair of ears, but he knew to yours, they would crush your self esteem. “Come on, why train so hard? Just accept the way you are.” They might seem as if he encouraged self acceptance but in reality he was firm on the belief you’d never advance.
As the years went on, his words only weighed heavier. He tried his best to convince you not to take the chunin exams. Wasn’t being a genin enough for you? You already were assigned missions. And he hated it. You now needed to uphold a responsibility to the village and he sadly couldn’t keep you at home. Couldn’t you see he was doing this all for your safety.
When Asuma-sensei died, it further showed to him the cruelties of this shinobi world. And soon he know that the King, was not the Hokage or Feudal lord, but you. Just like the knight, he’d work even harder to protect you. Conveniently for him, you’d been dispatched on a mission and had come back severely injured. While he vowed to find those who did this to you, he also petitioned with Lady Tsunade to have you relieved of being a shinobi. “She’s not capable of continuing to do this Lady Tsunade. I say this with her best interest in mind.” Just like that, you had returned to being a normal civilian.
During the 4th Great Ninja war, you stayed home. Despite the village needing all the power they could get, Shikamaru did not let you join. “You haven’t done anything in forever. Do you seriously think joining the war would result in you coming back alive?” He was right. Your brother was always right, so you stayed home. You waited for both him and your father to return, however only Shikamaru came back. The loss of your father weighing so heavily on the family, your mother shortly followed suit.
Now he had nothing but you. He had lost the people who would always talk sense into him, give him a guiding push in life when his path might stray. But now? He had no one to tell him what he might do is wrong. So he let his instincts take over. His feelings suppressed for so many years, he could finally let them over when the time was right. And that time would be when you turned 18.
Shikamaru was now 19, you 18. He led the clan on his own after the war. But he needed someone to do it with him. You had now become his wife. Nothing out of the ordinary in this society. Pure bred clans were a normal things. However now he possessed so much more control over you.
Immediately you were left to uphold a traditional housewife life. He was cunning, already he kept you inside as much as he could but now as his wife he could finally put his ultimate move on the board. You had fallen pregnant.
Now he controlled every single thing in your life. What time you ate. What you ate. Who you were around, what if they caused you stress and in turn harmed the baby? But to him most importantly, when you went outside. He was still a Shinobi, he couldn’t be around you 24/7. But this allowed him to keep you inside, for what seemed like forever. Only ever being outside when he couldn’t take your begging and crying anymore to be free. But his plan worked. And if he had to, he’d continue to keep you pregnant if it meant you’d never have to step foot outside again.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
A/n I love him and his fucked up hairlime
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