#i don’t really feel bad about it anymore like I have a handle on it but what else am I doing yknow lmfao
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folkwhoreberry · 21 hours ago
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I've a request for Percy Jackson as punishment for you deleting your drafts, something where Percy does little things for the reader? For example, drying her hair after she gets out of the shower, putting food on her plate, small and simple things, but things very cute😊↕️🤍
Mr. Jackson To Your Service
percy jackson x reader
or... the one where you’re obsessed with capri sun
word count : 969
warning : none omg who would believe that, english is not my first language!!!
🌙🩵🍓🌙🩵🍓🌙🩵🍓🌙🩵🌙🍓🩵🌙🍓 🩵🌙🍓🩵🌙
🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊
lunch time.
who would’ve thought that getting hundreds of hungry teenagers with powers in one place is a good idea?
either way, it is what it is and you’re not planning on starving. but fate has other plans for you, like having the scary ares kids standing in front of your favourite food, blocking your path.
and that’s how you ended up sitting in a corner table with percy, your plate only carrying a few pieces of veggies with a side of capri sun.
“why don’t you have anything on your plate, angel?” he asked, his brows furrowing in confusion as he saw how little food you had on your plate. “uhh, ‘m not really hungry.” you mumbled, tossing one of the veggie pieces around your plate with your fork.
percy tilted his head, his lips curling into a playful smirk. “not hungry? I thought I saw you eating an entire pizza two days ago, no problem. what happened to that appetite of yours?”
you shrugged, poking at the broccoli. “I guess today’s just one of those days.”
he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper, “are you sure it’s not because you’re avoiding the ares kids? I mean, you did seem pretty eager to steer clear of them.”
you snorted. “it’s not that bad, percy. they’re just… uh, intimidating. doesn’t help that they think they’re better than everyone else.” you took a sip of your capri sun, trying to act casual.
percy raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “right. I’m gonna go get you something, angel.” he said, getting up before you can even react, leaving you sitting there, your face dumbfounded.
after a few minutes, he came back with a plate full of pasta with the white sauce, and yet another capri sun. just like he had promised.
——————
after the long day of activities, you finally made your way back to your cabin, completely drained. after a quick shower, you wrapped yourself in your towel and stepped out, only to see percy waiting in the hallway, leaning casually against the wall.
“you okay?” he asked, raising an eyebrow when he noticed your wet hair. “need a hand with that, princess?”
you rolled your eyes, but smiled. “really? you’re gonna stand there like you’re some kind of hair stylist?”
“well, I mean, I have a lot of experience handling water,” he said, gesturing toward himself. “being the son of poseidon and all. so, yeah. I think I can help.”
you raised an eyebrow. “are you seriously gonna dry my hair for me?”
percy gave a dramatic sigh, as if you were making him perform some kind of great sacrifice. “I mean, I guess I have no choice now.” he paused. “unless you want to go to bed with wet hair. then I’ll leave you to your doom.”
you giggled, rolling your eyes again, but agreed. “fine. do your worst, seaweed brain.”
a few minutes later, you were sitting on your bed while percy wielded a hairdryer like he was in the middle of some grand mission. he was being unreasonably serious about it, and it took everything in you not to laugh at his overly focused expression.
“you know, percy,” you said in an exaggerated voice, “I feel like I’m in the presence of greatness right now.”
“you should,” he said without missing a beat. “I’m literally the best at this. I should add ‘professional hairdryer wielder’ to my resume.”
you couldn’t help it anymore, bursting into laughter. “you’re ridiculous.”
he grinned, proud of himself. “and don’t you forget it. all in a day’s work, saving the world and drying your hair. I’m a multitasker.”
when he finally finished, he gave a small bow, proud of his work. “there you go. all set, angel.”
you looked at your reflection in the mirror, surprised at how good your hair looked—no frizz, no mess. percy had somehow managed to do a better job than you could’ve hoped. “wow, you’re actually good at this.”
“told you,” he said, giving you a playful wink.
——————
you were heading to mr. d’s office to complain about something when you spotted percy walking towards you, looking way too smug for his own good.
“what?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bundle wrapped in twine. “I made something for you.”
you took it from him, unwrapping it carefully. inside was a tiny wooden necklace, the pendant shaped like a trident with delicate waves etched into the surface. it was small but thoughtful, and your heart skipped a beat.
“percy, you actually made this?” you asked, your voice soft.
“yep. I thought it might be… kind of cool? and, you know, I’m getting pretty good with a knife.” he scratched the back of his neck, his usual cocky grin replaced by a slight blush. “I know it’s not the best thing in the world, but… I thought you might like it.”
you were completely speechless for a moment, your heart swelling. “percy, it’s perfect. I love it.” you carefully slid the necklace around your neck, admiring it for a moment. “thank you.”
“well, you know… anything for you,” he said, his voice softening, and for a second, he looked so uncharacteristically sincere that it made your heart flutter. “I’d do anything to make you smile.”
“you already do,” you whispered, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “yeah, angel? I do?” he said with a smirk, making you him and nod.
“well, what else can I do to make you smile, m’lady?” he teased, putting one of his hands behind his back as he held your hand in his other, bowing down jokingly as he gave you a kiss on the back of your hand, just over your knuckles.
“mmhh.. get me a capri sun.”
————————————————————————————
a/n : hi hello I am currently craving capri sun but unfortunately it costs 0.5$ and I do NOT have that kind of money to spend in the school cafeteria💔
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blossoms-phan · 2 months ago
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signing up for phannie twitter in a trench coat was not on my to do list today but i need y’all to know this is just for the enrichment like sure I guess but tumblr is my number one girl and so are all of you on here <3
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story-book-sillies · 4 months ago
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Grieving over someone who isn’t gone is such a complicated feeling. Especially when they are your best friend. Especially when they want to leave you.
I still can interact with them today. I can see them with my own eyes, hear their voice with my ears, understand their deepest dreams because we just know each other.
But soon, I won’t be able to see them in person, the only way I can hear their voice will be through a phone, and now someone else will learn to understand them better than me. I will slowly be forgotten as someone else becomes their remembered.
And it hurts. But it happens. And I knew it was coming but I didn’t want it to happen so fast. It’s like when you know something is going to bite you but it hasn’t happened yet. You anticipate the pain so it’s like the pain is already there.
They’re still here but they’re already gone. They’re not gone forever just gone for now. You’re still a kid. They’re all grown up and they’re leaving you. It hurts.
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seilon · 2 years ago
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kinda wild how you can have almost every aspect of your life deeply intertwined with someone else for years and then have all of that thrown in your face when that person decides none of it meant anything and, in fact, was toxic and purge-worthy
#hahahaha it’s been a bad day#and I am spiraling and all around not having a good time#I keep looking at the bulletin board in my room that used to make me so happy to look at because of all the good memories on it and the#reminder of there being people who care about me and now it just sorta. does the opposite#most of it just makes me feel. dread.#he’s in almost every picture and 80% of the people in the pictures in general I don’t talk to anymore for one reason or another#mostly people who just drifted away because I’m absolutely terrible at staying in touch with people#like not in a quirky way. like actually actively ruins relationships for no reason level bas#but some of them are people who purposefully don’t talk to me anymore#found out recently about one of these people. it’s someone I’d been friends with for like 15 years. purposefully blocked me#I believe because of whatever bullshit my ex has told her. she never asked me about anything so whatever she knows is#heavily biased and probably warped#because I don’t have anyone advocating for me. lol#even my close friends- the extremely few I have- are ‘neutral’ on it. which. im gonna be honest hurts me quite a bit. I have no one who#truly condemns him for the way he’s handled (lack thereof) all this and bolstered all my trust issues in the process and has made me#constantly critical of my own intentions because I can never trust that what I do or say is manipulative or ‘unhealthy’ anymore and I don’t#think I’m an all around good person on top of that because of my low empathy and all that and etc etc etc. it’s really fucked me up#but yeah anyway. yeah. they’re still on good terms with him more or less (though not as close as I am but that’s partly just due to me being#physically close rather than in another city). and it honestly hurts me that they could actively be centrists here#like I. just. really don’t trust anyone anymore. how the fuck could I#uh. anyway. im not sure if i want to take the board down all together or just take off almost all the photos on it#not sure what’s more depressing#cause they’re both pretty bad lol. almost all my major good memories from the past five years have included my ex so they’re basically all#tainted and unpleasant to look back on now. really just wasted five years of my life for this#another reason I’m constantly contemplating my own intentions these days is because I have a lot of thoughts and urges that I’d never do but#that are. related to purposefully hurting others or myself physically or emotionally or both. like. every part of me wants to deck my ex in#the face but obviously I’d never do that. but even just the compulsion feels like a justification of his narrative/view of me as a person#like haha maybe I am a shitty toxic abusive manipulative bastard. maybe I do just deserve to be alone where I can’t hurt or think about#hurting anyone. it’d definitely be better all-around if I didn’t fucking exist. burden lifted. but you know.#not sure how im like this but also egotistical and self centered but alas here we are. anyway I’ll delete this soon sorry
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ghostickle · 1 month ago
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milo-is-rambling · 2 years ago
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Had a nightmare last night that many different large scary animals were trying to break into the house I lived in in New Hampshire and I kept running around and locking doors and screaming and crying and begging for my family to help me and they were just sitting and laughing or sleeping or living their lives and I was watching huge black bears pound on glass sliding doors and fog them up with their breath as they drool over the idea of demolishing my family and there were like big mountain lions finding small holes to crawl through trying to get in and I’m sobbing and bleeding and kicking them and trying to get my family to do something and they don’t even notice and act like I’m crazy
#hahahaha that’s totally unrelated to me having a panic attack and calling out of work only for my mother to tell me that she’s disappointed#in me and I should’ve just sucked it up and gone to work#my life is honestly me vs my mental health vs my mother#like if she could just. no. I’m the one with the problem. I stopped taking my meds. that’s on me. she shouldn’t get mad at me for the way I#deal with my own brain especially cause the first half of June went so well for me. but whatever. she’s allowed to be upset when her child#isn’t taking care of themselves. that’s fair. however. FUCK OFFFFFFFFFF#I DONT WANT NIGHTMARES WHERE IM DYING AND THEN I WAKE UP AND STILL FEEL LIKE IM ABOUT TO DIE#LIKE GIRL BE THE LITTLEST BIT SUPPORTIVE OF ME INSTEAD OF SAYING YOURE MAD AT ME BC I HAD A PANIC ATTACK SO BAD I COULDNT HANDLE A FIVE HOUR#SHIFT AT WORK LIKE JUST TELL ME IVE COME SO FAR FROM WHERE I WAS LAST YEAR (bad panic attacks every day) AND THAT I JUST NEED TO BREATHE AND#ILL GET THROUGH IT AND ITLL BE OKAY AND YOU CAN GO TO WORK AND EXPLAIN NEXT SHIFT AND APOLOGIZE AND ITLL BE FINE#INSTEAD OF SAYING TO YOUR KID ‘are you TRYING to get fired so you don’t have to go to work anymore?’ WHILE IM SOBBING WITH MY HEAD IN A#TRASHCAN DRY HEAVING LIKE YEAH MOM THATS JUST WHAT I WANT TO HEAR YOU THINK IM NOT FREAKING OUT ENOUGH ON MY OWN WHAT DO YOU THINK SENT ME#INTO THIS PANIC ATTACK LIKE SHUT THE FUCK UP#sorry. having a moment.#I just keep getting really vivid flashbacks to my dream and it’s like I was trying to protect my dad bc in my dream he was still alive and#then I woke up and felt so powerless to everything and remembered my mom still being mad at me which I’m sure is going to continue and I’ll#be guilt tripped for the rest of the weekend at least#and she’s going to be on my ass about going back to therapy when therapy has nothing to do with this#rage rage rage rage fear fear fear fear fear that’s all I seem to know anymore
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insanechayne · 2 years ago
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~ ~ ~
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lemonlover1110 · 6 months ago
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𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
Sukuna
[Chapter 3] Wedding Night
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Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader
Warnings: MDNI, Mentions of Cannibalism, Smut, Slight Dub-Con, Virginity Loss, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Masturbation, Creampie, Slight Breeding Kink
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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You swore that on the day of your wedding, you’d be the happiest woman alive. Being born a mere peasant and in a happy family gave you the option of marrying for love. But things change in the blink of an eye.
Neither of you really have families to do most of the wedding ceremony traditions, which cuts the wedding short. He has no interest in any of it, and you don’t feel any sort of joy while you commit yourself to one another. Perhaps you feel a twinge of satisfaction when you receive the title of Sukuna’s wife. 
If you die today, at least you won’t die as a nobody.
After the ceremony, he sends you away to your room. You’re not allowed to do anything even when you hold the title of his wife, at least not when your whims contradict his wishes. Therefore you’re left to sit in silence in your room, and you have no idea for how long you’ll be left in this state. He’ll visit you at night to get what he wants, and you still have a long way to go.
You’re staring off into space, your mind playing a filthy scene of how this will play out. He’s not going to be patient nor gentle, he definitely isn’t the kind. He’s going to fulfill his task and leave you seeking for pleasure once he’s finished. You aren’t expecting anything else, from what you’ve heard, men are selfish lovers. Though Sukuna isn’t exactly a man, you’re sure it applies to him.
“King Sukuna ordered for lady Kyoko to join you.” Uraume informs you before opening the door and letting the woman walk inside, not waiting for your response. She holds her head high when she walks into the room, wearing similar attirement as you. The servants don’t dare to look you in the eye anymore, the news that you’re the wife of Sukuna has spread, and they won’t dare test your authority.
Yet this woman isn’t scared of looking you in the eye, that’s all you need to know.  You have the authority of telling her to look down, but you have yet to find the voice.
“And who are you supposed to be exactly?” You ask her, wanting the confirmation that she’s been intimate with him before jumping to conclusions. There’s a hint of a smirk on her face, an aura of superiority around her. She sits directly across from you.
“One of King Sukuna’s dearest companions.” She sounds cocky, which gives you every answer that you need to know. “He told me to prepare you for tonight.”
“Right, of course.” You nod, feeling your face get warm. The cockiness goes away, and she gets serious as she begins to speak about Sukuna. She’s been ordered to tell you all you need to know for your first night with him, even though she clearly doesn’t want to speak about this.
You only hear about how to please him. You hear about everything you need to do to satisfy Sukuna, and how to handle two of them. You pick up on the jealousy as she explains everything, and it’s hard to ignore the way she glares at you.
You’re taking in every detail about her. She wears the makeup Sukuna expected you to wear last night: white powder, and red beni on her lips. The same makeup look that Uraume said made you look like a fool. 
“It’s not that hard, anyway.” She finishes. She’s staring you down, her eyes feel like they can burn a hole into you. Her gaze feels cold and nasty. “Though you don’t look like you can handle it.”
“I don’t think so either.” You don’t want to begin bickering and get on anyone’s bad side, even if you’re already her mortal enemy. You can’t lay it on thick. You look down at the ground, as if you were too ashamed to say it, “I’m not sure why he would pick me to carry his heir… Why didn’t Sukuna pick you, his dearest companion?”
“Sukuna? You dare call your king, Sukuna!” She yells, not really caring about anything else that has left your mouth. You dare call Sukuna merely by his name when you’re just a lowly human. “This should get your head rolling on the floor! No one calls King Sukuna simply Sukuna.”
“I understand your confusion… But I’m not just no one, I am his wife.” You correct her, fighting back on smiling as the words leave your lips. “I’m not sure either, we just met yesterday. He arranged a ceremony per my request this morning but it’s all too sudden.”
“His wife.” She scoffs, rising from her seat. A title that you don’t deserve, therefore she won’t acknowledge you as such. She doesn’t say anything else before exiting the room, leaving you to sit in silence once again. You could’ve handled the situation in a different manner, but regardless, you’re satisfied with your course of action.
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“You’ll be having dinner with King Sukuna.” Uraume announces before promptly dragging you out of the room and where you’ll dine. You’re met with a long table filled with all kinds of foods, and your stomach growls, a hunger that you didn’t know you had, consuming you. Uraume takes you to the end of the table, the end that’s far away from all the food. “You must wait for him before getting your food.”
“Of course.” You nod in response. Every meal that you’ve been offered so far has been awful, but the food on the table makes your mouth water so perhaps the cooking changes when Sukuna is going to be present. “When will he show up?”
“He should be here soon.” Uraume tells you, before stepping away. The moment they step away, you hear the echo of his loud footsteps as he approaches the dining room.
He walks inside, sitting across from you and not even bothering to spare you a look before digging into the food. He’s taking it all for himself, and you’re too scared to even stretch your hand out. You’re too shy to ask for any food, but thankfully, you’re brought your own separate meal.
Your appetite dies down the moment your eyes look down at it… It’s very different from Sukuna’s. Either different people cooked your food or there was no effort put into yours. You try not to judge the food by its appearance, and take your first bite. You nearly gag when the food touches your tongue, but you try to remain polite and force yourself to chew then swallow.
“Is the food not to your liking? It looks like you’re being forced to swallow shit.” Sukuna speaks up, and you look at your plate in shame. 
“It’s bad.” You answer. He yells for the servants, and within seconds a group is gathered right before him. They’re on their knees, eyes staring at the floor in front of them, not daring to look up at him.
“Remake her food, and make it right this time.” He orders, and they respond in unison. The same response that Sukuna gets every time he speaks: Yes, king. Sukuna glances at you before glancing at the people that kneel before him. “Bring out the person that made the food.”
“What are you going to do to them?” You chime in, but you’re ignored. Your word doesn’t seem to matter when you’re speaking to Sukuna. He knows why you ask, and he doesn’t care enough. You’re bound to see some bloodshed eventually, you better start getting used to it.
“Uraume made the food.” He’s informed, and his opinion changes. He retracts his former statement, simply ordering that someone else makes it to your liking. He dismisses them, and continues to eat his food.
“Does Uraume make your meals?” You ask him, your question falling on deaf ears. It’s a situation where you speak when you’re spoken to, and he didn’t speak to you first.
“Kyoko came running to me, yelling how you disrespected me.” He brings up, and you raise your brows. Suddenly you begin to feel sweaty, nerves consuming you. “What did you exactly say about me?”
“I called you Sukuna instead of formally addressing you.” You confess, and you begin to think over and over again of how to begin your apology. But you know that an apology won’t be well received, so instead of saying anything else you look down at the table in complete and utter shame. “Which should be fine, no? We just got married.”
“It is fine.” He reassures you. “You have the power to be harsh. Don’t embarrass me.”
“Embarass you how?” You question. “Were you listening?”
“Don’t try to get under her skin, words won’t shed blood.” He ignores the question. “If someone dares disrespect you, you must make them pay.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want to hurt your dearest companion.” You answer, and he scoffs. It’s clear that she thinks highly of herself when Sukuna couldn’t really care less about her.
“You said it yourself, I picked you instead of her.” He responds. “She’s not so dear to me if I chose a woman I just met over her.”
“Right… I’ll make her pay next time.” You nod your head, but you’re not going to do it. You aren’t going to make anyone shed blood because you aren’t like him. 
You hear your stomach growl as Sukuna continues to eat, and you can’t help but ask, “Can I taste?”
“Of course.” He doesn’t even waste a second before stretching his arm out in your direction, holding a bowl full of food. Before your chopsticks touch the food, Uraume comes into the dining room and speaks up,
“He’s a cannibal.” Which makes you freeze in your spot. You retract your hand, and Sukuna rolls his eyes. It now makes sense why he has a whole separate meal, and why his meal seems so tasty even if it’s made by the same person that cooks your food. It should be a more shocking confession, but you’re not surprised at all.
“Why’d you ruin my fun!” He yells, though he sounds more annoyed than angry. He’s ignored by Uraume, truly the only person who has that power. Instead of listening to him, they put your new plate of food in front of you.
“I’m so sorry the food wasn’t to your liking, my queen.” Uraume bows down before you, and you’re taken back by it. You’re not sure how to respond, it isn’t anything that warrants an apology in your eyes. “I didn’t make the meal, another servant did.”
“Bring them in.” Sukuna orders, and Uraume rises from the ground. They walk away and you’re about to dig into your new meal, but his voice stops you. “Don’t you dare.”
“It looks fine.” You answer. The food actually looks appetizing, and your hunger grows by the second. But he refuses to give you permission, and you won’t dare defy him. “Can I have just a taste? I’m hungry.”
He ignores you, tapping his finger on the table impatiently. Uraume finally walks back inside, dragging the woman that cooked your meal by her kimono.
“It was her.” Uraume speaks, as the woman bows down on the floor, not daring to raise her head. Sukuna lifts her up by the collar, while one of his hands reaches for your food. He forces her mouth open and stuffs her mouth.
“Chew.” He orders, and she’s trembling in fear. She forces herself to chew, too slow for his liking. “Hurry up and swallow.”
Once she swallows the food in her mouth, he tosses her aside and puts the plate right back in front of you. He stares at the woman for a minute before he finally asks, “Do you think that’s good enough for her to eat?”
“Yes, my king.” She almost hesitates, but she knows that hesitating won’t do her any good.
“You may eat.” He directs his attention to you, and you nod in response. You feel nervous for the woman that kneels before you. She’s around your age, probably here for similar reasons as you, and her life hangs by a thread. Even if you hate the food that’s in front of you, you’ll put on a smile and pretend that it’s the best meal you’ve ever eaten.
Luckily, you don’t have to fake anything because the food that touches your tongue is one of the best things that you’ve tasted. You tell him with a mouthful of food, “It’s so good.”
“Then she’ll be your servant.” Sukuna responds before standing up and walking away. Uraume follows, leaving you to look at her in confusion, though she doesn’t dare to lift her head. What exactly does that entail?
“What’s your name?” You ask her.
“Hina.”
“You can lift your head, Hina. I don’t bite. I’m not Sukuna.” You can’t help but chuckle. She slowly lifts her head, and she finally gets a good look at you. Her cheeks slowly get pink as she stares at you, and she averts her gaze. “Please keep me company, I’ve been dying to have a conversation with someone normal.”
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You wait in your room the same way you did last night. Uraume got you ready again, changing your attire into something more fresh and with less layers. They realized that putting you in traditional attire is just going to be a waste of time and resources since they doubt that Sukuna will be gentle with the robes.
You feel more comfortable this time around, feeling like you can finally breathe. You’re ready for what awaits tonight. Kyoko wasn’t the nicest woman, but she explained everything well enough. You had an idea of what was waiting for you, but now you exactly know what the night has in store for you.
You hear the sound of his loud footsteps, and you feel your nerves building up. This time around you don’t tremble in fear. You take a deep breath to calm yourself before he gets to you. She told you it’d be quick, and while at first it’s going to be uncomfortable, what’s to come will also leave you craving for more.
He enters the room, eyes immediately glancing down at you. You rise, remembering what she told you: First, you must help him get undressed. But before your hand touches the fabric of his robe, his hand stops you. 
The simple touch awakens something in you. Your hand tries to break free from his grasp, but it won’t move. A new feeling consumes you, and the thought of feeling Sukuna in every sense doesn’t make you tremble– Quite the opposite, you want it. You want everything he has to offer.
You’re looking up at him, studying each and every one of his features. He looks unusual, though that doesn’t mean he looks bad. He’s handsome in his own way, at least more handsome than the many men that you’ve come across with.
“There’s no reason for you to be in a rush.” He tells you. No matter how hard you try to break free from his grasp, he can hold back all of your strength without breaking a sweat. “I’m not running away.”
His hand goes under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. He’s smirking at you, knowing he’s about to ruin you. Two hands are trying to take off your robe, which isn’t a hard task but he grows impatient. You’re hearing the fabric rip, realizing that he’s getting straight to the point.
“Can you kiss me?” Your words make him freeze in his spot. It feels pathetic to say but if you don’t ask, he won’t do it. He rolls his eyes before leaning down and pecking your lips, pulling away quickly. He continues to tear down the fabric of your robe, until it’s on the floor. 
He saw you naked yesterday while you bathed, but you still can’t help but feel shy when you’re completely bare in front of him. You don’t have enough hands to cover yourself, and even if you tried, he’d tear them away. There’s no reason for you to feel shy, after all, he isn’t going to inspect your body and look for any flaws it might have. He gets straight to the point.
He lowers his head, lips kissing down your neck to your breasts. His lips feel tender on your skin, a sensation that you would have never imagined to come from Sukuna. A chill runs down your spine as you feel his tongue circle around your nipple. You weren’t warned about it, but you aren’t unhappy either.
You squeeze your legs together, an increasing sensation between them with each of his movements. His warm mouth takes in your nipple, harshly sucking as his hand fondles your other breast. He pinches your other nipple harshly, making a whine escape your lips.
Sukuna bites down before pulling away. He kisses the valley of your breasts before his tongue swipes over your neglected breast. Your mind focuses on how his tongue feels on your skin, that you almost miss one of his hands traveling down your stomach and to your pussy.
A breathy moan leaves your throat, your body getting overwhelmed with what he’s doing. You were expecting a lot tonight, just not this. Two very large fingers spread your folds, and as a reaction, your legs squeeze together. You swear you hear a low chuckle from him before he bites down your nipple once again. This time your whine is much louder.
“I’m going to have fun with you.” He’s amused with this. He nearly drops you to the ground, but luckily he puts his hand under your head before it touches the floor. He gets on his knees while his hands go to your legs, nails digging into your thighs. 
He puts your legs over his shoulders, and you hold your breath, knowing what’s to come. You expect him to take off his robe, and finally do what you’re expecting him to do. You’re clenching around nothing, your excitement radiating through your body. He doesn’t make an effort to get undressed though. 
“No one’s ever touched you here before, right?” He sounds cocky as two fingers run through the folds of your pussy. You bite down your lip before shaking your head, making a smug smile come to his face. He’s proud of it. “No one else will either.”
Sukuna has never been one to care for virginity or purity of any sorts when it comes to sleeping with other people– With you it’s different. He picked you for your innocence, and getting the chance to ruin you in every sense is thrilling for him. Knowing that he’s going to be your first and your last lover fulfills him.
“What–” You begin when he begins to lower his head, though you’re cut off by a breathy moan that leaves your lips as his tongue runs through your pussy. His tongue lays flat on your clit, and you feel your breath get caught up in your chest as an unfamiliar feeling overtakes your whole body.
His tongue flicks your clit, and your back arches, shutting your eyes as pleasure overtakes you. He’s yet to do anything, yet your mind is clouded with sex. Is this what you were worried about? You can’t help but mutter, “That’s so good.”
“Be loud.” He orders, pulling away from your pussy. His fingers take the place of his tongue, lazily circling your clit with little to no pressure. 
“What if someone hears?” You question, and he scoffs. He’s never heard a dumber question.
“What? That you’re my woman?” He responds, and you feel your face get even hotter than it already is. You talk as if Sukuna doesn’t control everything and everyone that resides in the place, he couldn’t care less if they hear what he does. “If it embarrasses you, I’ll kill them.”
“No– Ah!” His mouth goes back down, his warm lips going straight to your clit and sucking on it. You feel as two fingers run through your folds, gathering the slick that your body has produced, before he pushes his middle finger into you. 
It’s an uncomfortable new feeling, even if his whole finger isn’t inside of you. He’s kind enough to give you a moment before slowly piping his finger in and out of you. His head rises from between your legs and he tells you, “Relax.”
“Can you put your mouth there again?” You quickly ask, and just this once, he’ll please you. His tongue messily runs through your pussy before focusing on your clit once again, using the opportunity to push a second finger into your cunt. 
He curves his fingers in a manner that makes a loud moan escape your lips. You can’t hold yourself back when Sukuna worships your body. You were expecting the night to head in a very different direction with your given knowledge, but you couldn’t be more happy to be proven wrong.
“Sukuna!” You moan, as pressure builds up in your lower abdomen. He takes his fingers out of your pussy, leaving them to clench around nothing but within seconds his tongue moves down to your entrance and he pushes it in. You feel his tongue move around, while his thumb begins to play with your clit. 
You look at him through heavy lids, your eyes shutting on their own as pleasure consumes you. He’s too focused on doing his task correctly to actually spare you a glance. You’d say that he’s enjoying this more than you are, but you quickly stop that train of thought. Sukuna isn’t the type to enjoy satisfying others.
Your voice gets caught up in your throat, your body becoming tense and your back arching as you reach the high that you’ve been told about– They always told you that you’d know when it would happen, and you never believed it. It’s an unmistakable feeling.
And just as you come down from that feeling, you realize that you’re getting to the part that you’ve been anticipating.
Your legs come off his shoulders, and Sukuna undoes his robe with such gentleness that your outfit sadly wasn’t met with. You swallow thickly, seeing his full body on display. You don’t consider yourself a greedy woman, but seeing him completely naked makes you want more. 
You need more. 
“Is it going to fit?” You can’t help but ask as your eyes land on the two dicks. One stacked on top of the other. They aren’t exactly small either.
“We’ll make it fit.” He says without thinking twice about it, and your thighs squeeze together. His palm goes to the front of your face and tells you, “Spit on it.”
You don’t have to be told twice before spitting on his hand. He uses your spit to coat his cocks before grabbing your legs, and wrapping them around his waist. Even when you see what awaits you, your desire and hunger for him grows. 
He takes his bottom cock into his hand, stroking it a couple of times before running it through your folds. You watch him bite down his lip as he slowly pushes himself inside of you. A whine leaves your lips, feeling uncomfortable as his cock stretches you out.
“You’re so fucking tight.” He says, waiting a second before he begins to thrust in and out of you. His eyes are nearly rolling to the back of his head, feeling too good as he feels you around him for the first time. He manages to remain stoic, as if this isn’t one of the best sensations that his body has felt in ages.
She was right, it is weird your first time, especially with how big Sukuna is. You’re too focused on this new feeling to allow yourself to feel any pleasure. But you’re sure of one thing, you’ll definitely be wanting more. With the way he’s made your body feel, you’ll definitely be begging him for more.
You watch as one of his hands begins to stroke the top dick, fulfilling his needs since he can’t expect much from you tonight.
“Sukuna…” You mutter, and you hear him groan as you say his name. You know he likes it.
“Say it again.” Sukuna is getting off at you saying his name. You feel a pair of fingers toying with your clit, and you feel that sensation once again. Your back arches, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as it consumes you.
“Fuck!” You loudly moan, instead of saying his name per his request. While he’s strict about people following his orders, he’ll let it slide this one time. He’s too lost in you to care about anything else.
“I’m going to fill you up with my child.” He tells you as his thrusts speed up. You’re squeezing even more around his cock, your second orgasm building up and washing over you quickly. “You’re going to give me my heir.”
He’s getting a little too rough for you, his thrusts becoming harsher by the second until he finally fills you with his seed. He gets you messy, his top cock making a mess and coating your stomach. He finally pulls out, leaving you empty. 
He’s taking deep breaths as he grabs your legs, bending your knees and bringing them to your chest. You’re too overwhelmed to say anything, and you know he isn’t one of many words.
He grabs his robe and puts it on once again, while you remain in the position he put you in. He doesn’t tell you anything until he’s finally dressed, practically out of the door,
“I’ll be back tomorrow night.”
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katsu28 · 6 months ago
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"Squeezing their hand reassuringly and holding their hand throughout an intense social situation" for Lando if you are still taking requests! I love your writing sm!!��️❤️
thank you so much!!!
lando norris x reader, 1.5k. request something from here!
“I have good news and bad news. Which one do you want first?” 
You tilt your head at Lando as he slides back into his seat across from you, curious. He looks uncharacteristically serious. “What, did your card get declined or something?” 
“That’s—uh, excuse me? No.” Lando scoffs, scrunching his nose at you at the same time as he flips you off playfully. “My card did not decline, thank you very much. I’ll say it again, good news or bad news first?” 
“Good news first, always,” You insist firmly. 
Lando sighs, propping his elbows up on the table. “Good news, you got a free meal on me again. Bad news, there's a whole crowd of cameras and fans outside the restaurant right now and no way out the back.” 
“Oh.” 
Even just thinking about having to push through the whole gaggle of paparazzi outside has an uneasy feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. You know you should be used to it by now, seeing as you’ve been with Lando for a while and known him even longer, but it’s not something you go through on a regular basis. You’ve tried your very best to avoid it, really. 
Without him, nobody notices you. You can blend in with others and not have to worry about whether or not your life is being looked at through a microscope. 
With him, you feel thrust into the spotlight. Even though you know they’re not here for you, they’re here for him, it doesn’t seem like anyone cares so long as they get a picture of Lando. Of course, not all of the fans are like that, but in your experience, things can get out of hand very quickly. 
“I’m sorry, love. I know how much you hate crowds.” 
“Um, yeah, it’s alright. I can handle it.” Your voice sounds breathy, even to you, and Lando takes notice, his brow creasing in concern. 
“You sure? I can leave now and you can wait here til it all dies down. I promise I’ll circle back for you,” He offers, tilting his head. He reaches across the table to take your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. Half of you wants to play it safe and take him up on the offer. It would be easier on yourself to take that route. 
At the same time, you don’t want to hide anymore. The greater part of you feels like it's about time you mustered up the courage to embrace the very thing that makes you nervous. Lando has to do it everyday, surely you can handle it once. 
“No. We’ll leave together,” You decide, firmer this time. He smiles and stands from his seat, ever a gentleman as he helps you up from your own seat. Your previous confidence takes a rather large blow when you get to the waiting area of the restaurant and actually see just how large the crowd outside is. You stop suddenly.
“I’ve got you,” He says softly. “I won’t let go of you.” 
“Promise?” 
Lando holds out his pinky towards you in a silent promise, a pre race tradition you’ve adopted to help him settle his nerves before a race. You study his completely sincere expression for a few moments before letting out a sharp exhale through your nose, hooking your pinky around his. Both of you bring your linked hands up to your mouth, kissing the side of your fists to seal the promise. 
A silly gesture from way back in his karting days, but the significance it holds now is set in stone. 
“Okay. Okay, fuck, let’s get this over with!” His fingers slide into yours now, squeezing your hand reassuringly just for good measure. 
It feels like a full body assault on all your senses coming from all sides the moment you step outside. Flashing cameras, screaming fans, being jostled around even as Lando pushes through the crowd first to try to clear the way for you. You make the mistake of looking out into the crowd instead of keeping your head down like him, and instantly you’re blinded by a series of photos being snapped inches in front of your face. 
You can’t see a thing anymore, vision swimming with white spots no matter how much you blink to try to get rid of them. You stumble on the uneven cobblestones, and Lando’s grip on your hand tightens, his other arm slipping around your waist to steady you before you trip again. 
“I’ve got you, don’t worry,” He says into your ear, holding you close. He’s the only thing keeping you from panicking, your anchor in the ocean of people as he forges on towards the car waiting at the edge of the sidewalk. “Here, step up. Yeah, that’s it, grab there. Watch your head.” 
You scramble into the backseat of the car as quickly as you can so Lando can climb in after you. The door slams shut, and all that remains is silence. No more clamoring, no more screaming, just the rumble of the car under you and the telltale lurch that you’ve started to move. 
Collapsing back against the headrest, you laugh, high pitched and disbelieving. 
“Are you alright?” Lando’s voice sounds strained, tinged with concern, and his hand squeezes yours again. “All in one piece? All your limbs still attached?”
“Ha ha. Very funny. I’m okay, I just can’t really see anything right now,” You sigh. Your vision is still fuzzy, even in the darkness of the car. If you focus hard enough, you can kind of make out faint outlines of your surroundings, but you know it’ll be a bit until you’ll be seeing things clearly again. Lando makes a worried sound, and you're sure if you could see him his head would be cocked to the side, brows pinched in the middle. “Just the flashing cameras, probably. Now I know why you wear sunglasses everywhere you go.” 
He laughs then, giggles at you like you've said something absolutely hilarious. “I told you why I always have them on me! Did you think I was joking?” 
“No, I just always thought you were being a douchebag.” 
“Excuse me?” 
“Only douchebags wear glasses indoors, Lando. And blind people, but you're not blind.” 
“You might be after this,” He snickers. You shove him with a huff. Well, your smack hits something firm and he yelps, so you assume it’s him. “Ow, jesus—fine, I’m sorry. That was rude of me. I shouldn't be making fun of blind people.” 
“You shouldn’t be making fun of me! Why didn’t you bring them today?” 
“I did!” He insists. “I just…left them right here on the seat. Whoopsies.”
“Whoopsies.” 
The car returns you to Lando’s building, and thankfully by then your vision has returned so you can make your way up to his floor on your own. Lando’s gone quiet on the elevator ride up, which is a bit uncharacteristic of him. After a good meal like the one you’ve just had, usually he’s talking about how he wants to dive into bed and sleep for ten years. This time, he just stares at the changing numbers above the door silently. 
He wanders to the couch as soon as you get into the apartment, whereas you make your way over to the kitchen to grab some water. You grab a glass from the cabinet, not turning around as you ask, “Water, Lan?” 
“Do you ever regret it?” Lando sounds small, unsure. You freeze, wait for him to keep going, but he doesn’t. Confused, you turn around with the glass still in hand to see him not even looking at you, instead focusing hard on picking at a loose thread at the edge of his sleeve. 
He fiddles when he’s upset, something you’d learned quite early on in just being around him. He’s actually quite easy to read, really. Or maybe it’s just because you love him so much you’ve become attuned to his body language, what he does when he’s sad, mad, and everything in between. 
You give an acknowledging noise for him to elaborate, and he drops the thread, finally looking up at you. “Being with me.” 
“Now why would you ever think that?” You’re the concerned one now, rushing over to sit beside him on the cushions. 
He shrugs, letting his shoulders drop heavily. “I dunno, just…everything that comes with me, it’s a lot to deal with, y’know? Sometimes I wonder if you wish my life wasn't so…public all the time.” 
You take Lando’s face in your hands firmly, tilting his chin up so he's looking directly at you. “I will gladly take you and everything you come with. No matter what it is. I never want you to doubt that, my love.”
“I don’t,” He says softly, a flicker of a smile gracing his face. “How did I ever get so lucky with you?” 
“I think it was the knobby knees and giant head that really made young me go, yeah, I want that one. I think the sentiment still stands too.” 
Lando's smile disppears. Now he pouts, crossing his arms over his chest. "You're mean. You're mean and I hate you."
"That was for making fun of me earlier!"
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madmaxified · 2 months ago
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how do you think jealous glinda would act
JEALOUS GALINDA HEADCANNONS
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warnings : none!
author’s note : this got me out of my writers block ( FREAKING FINALLY ) so thank you anon!
⭑ galinda loves being the centre of attention, loves it, especially when she gets to be the centre of your attention. she’s not used to not getting what she wants, not used to not being the sun, the moon, the planets, and stars in everyone’s galaxy, so the idea of her having to share your attention with anyone else is such a foreign concept to her
⭑ galinda, who always wants to hang out with you! she wants to study together ( though it’s mostly you working and her staring at you with big goo goo eyes because you look so pretty when you’re concentrating! ) or going on super elaborate dates she’s planned out, or just hanging out in her dorm and kissing until she can’t stop giggling
⭑ so when you start to hang out with someone else just a tad bit more than you do her, like maybe you eat lunch with some your classmates instead of going off with her, or if you say you can’t come over that night because you’re hanging out with someone else, she freaks out!
⭑ why don’t you wanna hang out with her anymore? did she do something wrong? was she a bad girlfriend? did she hurt your feelings? elphaba finds her in bed curled up in ball with her knees tucked up to her chest, overthinking every little thing the two of you have ever done, trying to figure out why you might be mad at her
⭑ spoiler alert! you’re not mad! she’s just a chronic overthinker who can’t go a day without getting to hold your hand and kiss you
⭑ the moment you come over next she’s bawling in your arms and begging for you to forgive her because she doesn’t understand why you’re mad and she’s sorry if she hurt your feelings! she’s so not used to feeling so strongly about someone and she doesn’t want to mess a single thing up
⭑ in an instant you’re cuddling her and kissing her face and insisting she didn’t do anything wrong, and that she’s been nothing but the most amazing girlfriend imaginable! you just wanted to spend some time with your other friends, that’s all! you don’t love her any less
⭑ she’s all pouty and red in the face and somehow as elegant and pretty as ever, maybe even more, when she looks up at you
“galinda, what are you talking about? you are nothing short of the most amazing girlfriend on the planet! just because we’re not spending every second of every day together doesn’t mean i love you any less”
“you p - p - promise?”
⭑ galinda tries not to be super clingy after that, tries to teach herself that just because you’re hanging out with your friends or you’re not sleeping over every night, that it doesn’t mean you don’t care about her or what to break up, tries to teach herself that she doesn’t need to be always be the centre of attention. she’s still learning! it’s her first time being a relationship that she really does care about
⭑ of course she can only handle so much, it’s hard not to be clingy and possessive when she sees someone blatantly flirting with you! you’re her girlfriend after all!
⭑ the moment someone touches your arm sweetly or compliments your hair or clothes in a definitively not platonic way, she’s practically appearing at your side, arms wrapped around your waist with her face nuzzled into your shoulder
⭑ she’s constantly kissing your cheek, snuggling up against you, squeezing your hand, and repeating the word ‘girlfriend’ over and over until whoever decided they had the right to even breathe in the direction of you awkwardly wanders off
“oh! i don’t believe we’ve met, i’m galinda upland, her GIRLFRIEND!” “i was just in the bathroom, hope i didn’t keep my GIRLFRIEND waiting for too long!” “thanks for taking such good care of my GIRLFRIEND, but i can take it from here, as i am her GIRLFRIEND, and she is my GIRLFRIEND”
⭑ she doesn’t leave your side for the rest of the night, flipping her hair in the direction of ( and maybe even into the face of ) anyone who tries to hit on you. you’re her girlfriend! not theirs!
⭑ she can’t help but feel insecure though, her face is a nervous mix between a scowl and a pout for most of the night, constantly squeezing your hand as if to remind herself that you’re very much still there, that you haven’t left her for someone else
⭑ it’s not until she drags you back to her dorm does she break down, blubbering about how she’s worried about ‘not being good enough’ and how ‘everyone who hit on you was so much sexier and cooler than her’ and how ‘she’s not even that good of a girlfriend because she doesn’t know what she’s doing! but she doesn’t want to screw anything up!’
⭑ you’re barely able to calm her down, let alone pull her into your arms and lead her over towards her bed
“ssh, sh, hey, hey, galinda look at me. nobody at that stupid party was as cool or sexy or amazing as you are. you are the brightest, most wonderful person i’ve ever met, and i’d be an idiot to even consider dumping you for some dumb guy or girl who tries to hit on me. you don’t have to be perfect, nobodies perfect baby, but you are damn well pretty close. i love galinda upland, nothings gonna change that”
⭑ somehow that made her cry more! not out of sadness but just because she’s so overwhelmed with joy and love because you love her and you think she’s perfect and pretty and sexy and amazing, and it made her heart flutter in her chest so hard she’s worried it’ll explode
⭑ she flops right against you, burying her face into your shoulder and mumbling ‘i love you’ over and over and over until she finally stops crying, and by then you’re both exhausted
⭑ you end up spending the night at hers, galinda tucked against your chest your face buried in her hair, arms cradling her protectively
⭑ she ends up staying awake long after you’ve fallen asleep. titling her head up just so, watching and listening to you breathe because you’re the most gorgeous creature on earth and she’s the one who gets to lay against you like this, and she’s not sure something else has ever made her happier
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ponderingmoonlight · 8 months ago
Text
Saving Genya from his big brother only to make out with Sanemi
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Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader
Word Count: 2,9k
Synopsis: It was never an easy job, being the only one who's able to calm the wind hashira down. There was never more than respect and understanding between both of you. Until you bodly decided to stand up for Genya, until Sanemi finally reveals his true feelings...
Warnings: We're talking about Sanemi so language at violence lol, aggressive making out
I love love love Sanemi and I desperately hope you do as well hehe, enjoy and leave a comment/like/reblog <3
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There he stands with his hot temper filling the air and his ruthless beatings torturing the poor souls in front of you. Hashira training never sounded like fun to you, especially when you consider who you’d have to deal with.
Sanemi Shinazugawa, especially.
“Get back up, brat. We’re not finished yet.”
You watch from afar as he hits the poor red-haired poor over and over again. Without any mercy, without the slightest hint of regret. And still, you can’t help but ponder about the way his arms flex and show every vein that decorates his skin. How he moves so effortlessly that your eyes are almost unable to follow. No, it’s not a secret that apart from being a madman, Sanemi Shinazugawa is hot as hell.
And your crush since you joined the demon slayer corps.
“Don’t you think that’s enough for today? The poor boy isn’t even able to stand up straight anymore”, you interfere when he’s about to hit him once again.
 "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were the expert on disciplining. How about me fetching you a chair so you can supervise more comfortably?”
All pairs of eyes are set on you while you step towards the scene in death silence. Apart from everyone else, you aren’t here to train under Sanemi. No, you are a very capable demon slayer yourself, so good that you even managed to beat Mitsuri from time to time. You definetely don’t need Sanemi to train.
In fact, you are here because you’re the only one who is able to tame him apart from Kagaya-sama himself.
"Well, if you ask me so nicely, a chair actually doesn’t sound bad for the next time. Meanwhile, how about we wrap this up? Enough's enough."
Sanemi’s venomous eyes meet yours, tempting you to lose your cool. Within the past few months, you’ve learned how to act around him and that his actions don’t reflect his true feelings at all. Deep within, he is the most caring and compassionate person you’ve ever met, so tender that you’d simply melt away in his touch. He never failed to protect you even if not needed, always made sure you are save before looking out for himself. Damn, he even left his desert for you to eat.
But on the other hand, he’s very good at hiding that side of him.
“Fine. Call it quits for today then. But we two will have a talk later”, he finally mutters before turning around and disappearing without any trace.
Your heart skips a few beats before you’re able to think straight again. Oh, how much you adore him. Just the sheer thought of meeting him alone sends shivers down your spine even though nothing ever happened between you two. After all, you’re only here to look out for him, right?
“Thank you for standing up for me. Now you’ll get in trouble for helping me out”, the red-haired boy lying in front of your feet speaks out while dragging himself up.
“Oh, don’t worry about me, I can handle him. Are you alright?”
In the matter of seconds, your eyes scan his body for serious injuries. Nothing, as you expected. Even though his training methods seem rough, he’d never allow himself to truly lay hands on another corps member. Not even him, Kamado Tanjiro. The boy who has what Sanemi always dreamed of.
“Yes, thanks to you. We really need a break after training day and night. Sorry, may I ask you for your name?
“My name is (y/n). Nice to finally meet you in person, Kamado Tanjiro.”
His eyes widen in an instant when you tell him your name. Even though you’re not a hashira, it seems like a lot of corps member know you. A decently skilled swordswoman, a trained doctor who made sure that no one ever died as long as you were around.
“The angel”, he breathes out.
“What an honor to meet you in person!”
In an instant, he gets on his knees and places his head on his flat palms. A pose of deep respect, so intimate that your cheeks heat up in an instant.
“Please, lift yourself off the ground. I don’t deserve your praise-“
“You deserve so much more than that!”, Tanjiro interrupts in an instant.
“Leave her alone. Can’t you see that you’re making her uncomfortable?”, another voice mutters from behind.
A very familiar voice you haven’t heard in quite some time, that makes your heart jump up and down in joy.
“Genya!”, you cry out.
You waste no time. In an instant, you lunge yourself at the now much taller boy and wrap your arms around him so tightly that he cannot escape. Oh, you really missed him. Even though Sanemi states over and over how much he hates his little brother, you always had a weak spot for him. Maybe because you’re able to see his soft side as well or because of the cute way he blushes when you look at him.
“Genya, are you alright? Your face is so red-“
“SHUT UP”, he barks at Tanjiro while you giggle to yourself.
“Why didn’t you send me a crow like I told you to? I was beyond worried about you. But oh I’m so proud. Did you really help to kill an upper moon demon and supported your friends?”
“Well I-“
“Yes he did! He was a big help for all of us!”, Tanjuro interferes immediately.
“(y/n), didn’t I tell you we need to talk?”, someone suddenly barks from the inside.
All color drains from Genya’s face immediately as he turns around with you.
There he stands with his arms crossed in front of his muscular chest, eyes almost piercing through you while the vein on his forehead threatens to pop any minute.
Your heart sinks in an instant. No, don’t let him control you like that, not when you know that he’s just…jealous?
“I needed to talk to Genya first”, you clarify.
“(y/n), please don’t-“
“Oh, is that so? Why would you even look at that trash?”
Thick anger rushes through your veins like the flood. If there’s one thing you hate about Sanemi’s attitude, it’s the way he talks about his little brother.
“I’m looking at you as well, don’t I?”
He flinches ever so slightly, his furrowed eyes now piercing through you like a thousand knives.
“Get inside. Right now.”
“Get some rest you two”, you quickly shout over your shoulder before you disappear into the house with a furious Sanemi by your side.
He slams the door shut behind you so rapidly that it rains plaster.
“What was that, huh?”, he speaks out with threatening low voice.
“I asked your little brother about his mission.”
He cages you between the wall with no way to escape, dangerous eyes locked with yours.
“I told you to stay away from him.”
“And I told you that I don’t care.”
“Why don’t you leave, then?”
“Because I’m the only one who’s able to tame you down”, you bite back.
He huffs in sheer annoyance while pushing himself off the wall. Why does he have to look so vulnerable and strong at the same time, so scary but also mesmerizing?
“You won’t force me to talk to him”, he finally speaks out.
“I want him to leave the corps and get as far away from me as possible.”
“Away from you or away from the danger?”
“I don’t care about him.”
“So you don’t care about me as well?”
Thick silence hangs between both of you while you stare at each other. To this day he never revealed how he truly feels about you. Does he hate you, respect you, love you? You might never know. But your influence on him speaks for itself.
“Go to sleep. We’ll get up early tomorrow.”
Without another word, he leaves you standing in a new wave of ponderings and emotions.
-a few hours later-
Your eyes dart open for no reason. Aimlessly, your orbs roam around the dark room, ears searching for a single sound.
Voices. Shouting. Blows.
Blows?
“Big brother?”
Your heart drops to the floor. That’s Genya. Why does the floor start to vibrate now?
Out of instinct, you yank out of your room, follow a wave of destruction until you finally get what’s going on.
There they stand. Genya with fright written all over his face and Sanemi with orbs so empty you’re almost able to see through them.
Your guts turn uncomfortably as he speeds forward so fast that your eyes are almost unable to follow. Fuck, is he about to pierce through Genya’s eyes?
You waste no time. In the matter of milliseconds, you drag Genya to the ground and therefore safe him from Sanemi’s merciless attack.
“Sanemi.”
You breathe out his name like a prayer.
“Get out of line, (y/n).”
“I can’t allow you to hurt him!”, you cry out, hands still holding onto Genya’s trembling body for dear life.
“You leave me no choice, then.”
It happens faster than you’re able to think. He dashes forward while grabbing the handle of his sword tightly, his eyes and blade darted towards you.
But you don’t even think about leaving Genya. No, you stand your ground in front of him, glossy orbs watching as his blade crashes down straight towards your face.
Until it stops.
“I said move”, he hisses through gritted teeth.
“And I said I won’t. Leave Genya alone.”
“Are you really putting up a fight with me, (y/n)? Here, right in front of everyone else?”
You couldn’t care less about the stinging fact that the others are watching you drowned in fear. This goes too far without any doubt.
“You don’t have to do this, Sanemi. Not when we both know you love your little brother dearly”, you breathe out.
“Come on Genya, let’s leave”, Tanjiro’s voice mutters behind you, causing a wave of relief to wash over you.
“I don’t love anyone. Not him, not you, I don’t give a shit about anyone around here”, Sanemi barks back at you with nothing but hatred spilling from his mouth.
Genya doesn’t deserve those words reaching his ear. But apart from that, you can’t escape the sting that fills your heart with agony.
Him, not loving anyone? Of course you never really expected the wind hashira to actually like you back. Of course even him respecting you is more than you could have ever asked for. But somehow you still hoped. Each and every night, you imagined what if would feel like to lay in his arms while listening to his steady heartbeat. Every free second, you pondered about how his lips must feel pressed against yours, how it feels to fall asleep and wake up next to him.
And now he tells you that you mean nothing to him.
You swallow hard, desperately trying to avoid his gaze at any cause. No, you can’t afford to lose yourself right here when everyone is watching.
Out of instinct, you straighten your shoulders and cross your arms in front of your chest.
“If that’s the case, I’m leaving. Good night, wind hashira.”
You don’t care about waiting for an answer. All you want to do right now is going back into your room, going back into safety where he’s not around. How stupid to even consider that Sanemi Shinazugawa could feel anything apart from a little respect for you. You, nothing but an ordinary slayer, still too weak to be called a real hashira. You, apparently nothing but a fool.
Hot tears start to swell up your eyes and cause your vision to get foggy. You never allowed yourself to cry over something so minor. What did you expect, a gut-wrenching love story? With the wind hashira?
“Why did you turn your back on me?”
You flinch so hard that you almost trip over your futon.
“What are you doing here?”, you cry out.
Fuck, this is him, without any doubt. What on earth is Sanemi doing in your room? Just now, when you’re looking like a mess.
“Are you crying?”
“Even if I do, why would you care?”
When your gaze drifts towards his, you feel like drowning and taking your first breath at the same time. He looks so distressed that your heart wrenches all over again. Like a lost puppy, he draws closer until he cages you against the wall. His eyes seem to stare right through your soul, make it hard to produce a single logical thought.
“Why would you even think that, idiot?”
His hand yanks your chin up, forces you to stare at him even more intensely.
“Because you said so yourself”, you bite back.
“You shouldn’t have interrupted me in the middle of teaching Genya a lesson.”
“Teaching him a lesson? You’re breaking that poor boy’s heart-“
“Breaking him? I’m saving him, goddamn!”, he blurts out so suddenly that you shake.
“Saving him? What are you t-“
“Poking his eyes out isn’t that big of a deal, he’d definitely survive. But his career at the demon slayer corps would have been over and out, he would have been saved”, he mumbles frantically.
“That would have meant he’s save, that would have meant he doesn’t die in this shit-“
“Sanemi”, your hands grab his face gently, try to get him out of his constant mumbling.
“He’ll die just like our mother did.”
“Sanemi.”
“I can’t fucking protect you all. Not when you’re around as well, not when you’re not listening just like he does-“
“Sanemi.”
When your eyes meet his, he looks like a troubled child scared of thunder. His glossy orbs stare at you desperately, make your heart ache all over again. All that rambling, giving Genya his coldest shoulder…to protect him?
“You’re just as reckless as him. Not looking out for yourself. What am I supposed to do without both of you around? What if I lose you two as well?”
“You won’t lose anyone, I’m good enough to-“
“How can you know?”, he screams into your face, his voice vibrating through every cell of your body like thunder.
“How can you promise you won’t die? One wrong move and you’re gonna bite the dust. Or you’re at the wrong place at the wrong time like Rengoku-“
It might be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done in your entire life, so reckless that you’ll lose Sanemi completely.
But you don’t care.
Before he’s able to talk about the grief within the past any further, you crash your lips against his while holding onto his face for dear life.
Over and over, again and again until your mind finally shuts up, until it’s only you and Sanemi and his puffy lips against yours.
He wraps his arms around you so tightly that you allow your knees to give in, bodies resting against each other so desperately that you feel like dreaming. Countless nights you pondered about the way his frame feels pressed against yours, what the wind hashira might taste like.
Oh, the reality is so much better, so good that you have to convince yourself you’re not dreaming.
“You’re driving me insane. Since the first time I saw you training with Obanai, since you beamed at me with that sickening gorgeous smile. I can’t escape you. I can’t fucking lose you”, he hisses against your mouth before entangling his tongue with yours all over again.
Sparks fly, stars take up your sight completely as you threaten to choke on all the affection and love that hits you with full force.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”, you breathe out.
“And risking you’ll never talk to me again? You have to be out of your mind.”
“I’m out of my mind because of you. Because you make me feel all those strange things”, you puff out.
Faster than you’re able to react, he pulls his face away from yours enough to almost drown inside your glossy orbs. For a moment, all the does is staring at you as you desperately gasp for air with your chest rising and falling rapidly. This really happened. Did you really make out with the wind hashira after he tried to murder his little brother, after all the fighting and rambling of today?
“You’re my weakness, (y/n)”, he finally blurts out.
“And I hate that power you have over me. Especially that everyone else knows it.”
You tilt your head to the side. Oh, that’s so true. After all, this is the reason why you were sent here. You are here to make sure he doesn’t go too rough on his students, that his hot temper is kept at least a little cool.
Well, given the heat that radiates from him at this very moment, the last part definitely didn’t go as planned.
“They know about my feeling for you as well.”
His eyes widen while he stares you up and down in sheer disbelief.
“Stop fucking with me”, he grumbles.
“You were too blind to realize that I loved you for so long while I didn’t even think about the opportunity that you might like me back”, you admit with your cheeks turning as hot as the sun.
“You fool.”
He yanks your chin towards his face, a small smile decorating his usual so irritated face.
“I’ll definitely never let you go again now.”
His lips crash into yours and leave your mind blank all over again.
“But I’ll still kick your ass for talking to me so disrespectfully and interfering with Genya.”
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Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld
@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake
@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345
@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp
@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine (thank you sooo much for helping me creating reader for the cover)
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suni-writings · 17 days ago
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Take the pain away.
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jude bellingham x fem!reader
wc: 2.2k
+18!! mdni
(content warning: unrequited feelings, cheating [unrelated to jude x reader], toxic relationship [also not jude x reader], smut, fingering, unprotected sex [have safe sex pls])
it's been a while since i wrote a jude smut, but you ask and i shall deliver. we have been waiting for this one. heavily inspired by "fuck the pain away (lost tapes 2022)" by tory lanez.
He was exhausted. Not because of football, not because of fame, but because of his best friend. Being physically exhausted was something he was used to — Jude could get rid of it in a few weeks if it resulted in some type of pain. Emotionally, however? He was clueless as to how to heal it, especially since time did nothing but deepen his feelings towards her. It messed up his head, his thoughts got foggy, and he seemed to act out of impulse whenever he was around her. Nothing could really stop him when she was next to him, and that was his doom.
Well, that and her boyfriend. Her hideous, stupid attempt of a man of a boyfriend, whom did nothing but make her feel bad and cheat on her. She wasn’t the girl Jude used to know anymore — the fierce one, who everyone would be scared to even look at her the wrong way. Somehow, that manipulator managed to get her undivided forgiveness every time. It was a never-ending cycle, one that was tearing his mind apart. He was always the one to rescue her, until that dumbass showed up again, promising to be different and acting like a prince for a week.
That night wasn’t any different. The moment his phone vibrated in his pocket and Jude saw who sent the message, he already knew what it was about. And, despite being tired, he still walked up to her house, because she had him at his mercy. He wanted nothing more than to see her okay again, to be her sunshine of her rainy days.
Even if for a single moment only.
She had left the door unlocked for him. Jude carefully got inside, taking a deep breath. He could hear her sobs coming from her room, which he carefully walked up to.
“Princess?” Jude called out softly.
Even in the darkness, he could see her hands coming to dry the tears in her eyes. She sat up, still sniffing, and he sat next to her. He caressed gently her face and wiped another tear.
“Wanna talk about it?” he asked quietly.
“What’s the point? You already know what happened. It’s what always happens.” She let out a humorless chuckle and sighed. “I’m sorry. I probably look like shit right now.’
Bellingham took a moment to look — more like admire — her face. Red glimmering eyes, puffy nose, the bite marks on her lip to avoid crying. She still looked breathtaking.
“You look like a mess, honey,” Jude smirked. “But still pretty as ever.”
She gave a small smile, that quickly turned into a grimace, and she looked at him.
“I feel so weak, Jude. I don’t know why I keep letting this happen, I don’t know why I’m so—” she stopped midsentence and laid in bed again, holding back her tears. He was next to her, supporting the weight of his body on his elbow. “Please, take this pain away. I can’t handle this anymore.”
He took a deep breath yet again. There’s not much he could do, and all his options sounded selfish; even if it was for her own good, it also benefited him. Like leaving that project of a man for once and all. He slowly took strands of her hair out of her face, gently outlining her cheek. He avoided looking at her lips, because he couldn’t do anything about it. Especially with her this vulnerable.
“I’m here, princess. What can I do for you?” Jude asked quietly, toying her hair between his fingers.
“Take the pain away.” She begged again and looked into his eyes.
She had no idea how much Jude wanted to do that.
“I can’t do that. I’m not him, I can’t fix his mistakes, but I can—” he bit his tongue when he realized he was about to say too much; to act selfishly, to prove her she could do better, to give her a taste of what she could have.
A few moments of silence fell between them and her eyes searched for his. She leaned closer, as if she got the hint. As if she wanted it too.
Jude could be her temporary relief, he didn’t care. If he could help, he would.
Who was he trying to fool? If he could have her in any way, he would.
“Fuck the pain away. I could fuck the pain away, baby.” He whispered as he looked at her in her beautiful, almost translucent nightgown. “An eye for an eye. Give him a taste of his own poison. You say the word, I’ll do it.”
She leaned even closer to him, her hand gently resting on his face as she caressed his cheek. She bit her lip, thinking. She was desperate, and Jude was right there for her.
If her boyfriend could do it, then so could she.
Without a second warning, to Jude’s surprise, her lips crashed into his, hastily seeking relief. When their tongues touched, she was in a frenzy, and everything started to get blurry.
All she could think was the way Jude kissed and bit her neck, the way his warm tongue descended to her collarbone and threatened to go even lower. The way she tugged, on Jude’s hair, not wanting the moment the moment to end, needing more of his kisses. Of his burning touch.
“Need to take this off, princess.” He muttered against her collarbone, holding the hem of her nightgown. She nodded and stood her arms up so he could easily remove it. “Making this all so easy for me.” He said once he saw her breasts and tossed the nightgown away, biting her nipple before gently sucking it while caressing the other with expertise.
She was already panting. In a single attempt, he brought his covered knee close to her core, and the damp in her panties was undeniable.
That only fueled his anger. That bastard had her and didn’t touch her properly.
His mouth left her breast and moved back to her neck, sucking and biting it while his hand descended to her core and she her back almost arched in anticipation; if he knew she was that touch deprived, he would’ve suggested that a long time ago.
With his hands underneath her underwear, he pressed two fingers against her clit and moved them slowly, pressuring further to see the way her chest rose, the way her cheeks flush and how her mouth opened, too scared to make a sound.
So, without warning, Jude inserted the two fingers inside her and moved them fast, curling them until he found the spot that made her back arch, and the room became filled with moans. He kissed her throat, his mouth vibrating with each moan that came out of her mouth. His movements were precise, fast, and with an urge to prove something that, before he could realize or properly enjoy what he was doing, her walls were closing against his fingers.
“Jude, I’m—” she tried to say, but he smirked against her skin and moved his fingers even harder.
“You’re what? Tell me, baby.” Jude teased her and her back arched. He felt his fingers hurt, but it didn’t matter. Not when she was coming undone in his hands.
“Jude—” she tried to warn again, and he kept moving his fingers, looking at her in the eyes. She struggled to keep them open, trying to keep eye contact.
“Is that everything you know how to say now? My name?” He hit the spot once again and smirked. “I could get used to that.”
Her walls fully clenched around his fingers, and she finally came, seeing stars behind her eyes and leaving a loud moan. It was something she had never experienced so strongly, and she didn’t know if it was because her boyfriend didn’t care about her pleasure or if it was because it was Jude. Maybe the answer was both.
“Fuck.” she muttered, panting. He just smirked, looking into her eyes and leaning away, putting his own fingers in his mouth to taste her.
“Now that’s a very—” his fingers left his mouth with a pop once he made sure to savor the taste. “—very good girl. And a delicious one, if I might add. Could taste you for fucking hours.”
Jude didn’t care if he still had his clothes on. He had a taste of hers, and nothing would stop him now.  If he already couldn’t stop himself before touching, the gods may as well punish him, and it wouldn’t be enough for him to stop.
He kissed her again, making her taste herself before lowering the kisses — from her mouth to the spot under her ear. From her neck to her collarbone. From the valley of her breasts to her stomach. The kisses only lowered. Before he could reach her panties once again, starving, she tugged on her hair.
“No.” She shook her head. “I’m too worked up for you to eat me out. Need more.”
He bit his lip and smirked. As much as he wanted to taste her, he wanted to be inside her. He took off his shirt in a swift move and she sat up, crawling closer to him to kiss him and bite his neck. He felt like his skin was on fire and the bulge on his sweatpants only got harder. He took a deep breath.
“You’re not helping, princess.” He sighed.
“Am I not?” Now it was her time to tease. She straddled him and sat right against his crotch, making him almost roll his eyes. “You should take those sweatpants off.” She said as her hands caressed his abdomen.
He quickly turned the position, now on top of her, and took his sweatpants off.
“Good enough for you, princess?” He whispered, leaning closer.
“Better if you took your underwear off.” She smirked.
“Brat.”
Instead of taking his underwear off, he took her panties off in one single move. A risky one, since he could’ve ripped it from how quickly he took it off. He lowered and admired for a moment.
“Such a pretty pussy. A shame you won’t let me eat you out.” He whispered as he looked at her core, gently touching her puffy clit once again. She was stretched, but not enough. He didn’t pay attention to that when he had his fingers inside her — he just wanted to see her pretty face coming.
“Jude.” She called him out with some urgency, and he sighed.
Maybe the gods couldn’t stop Jude, but she could.
He took his underwear off, only now realizing how painfully hard he was. She watched as his cock sprung out, rigid, leaking with too much precum. He bit his lip and put his hand around his cock, spreading the precum slowly. He knew how sensitive he was right now, and he had to hold it back for her. He lined his member with her entrance and slowly dipped inside her.
She moaned loudly and Jude could feel his breath stopping from how tight she was. He gave her some time to adjust to his size.
“This is too much.” She whined.
“Darling, I’m not even moving.” He replied. “Your boyfriend lacks even in that area? He’s truly useless.”
She would’ve chuckled if she wasn’t having a hard time with the way his cock filled her, the burning sensation from the stretch seeming unending.
“It hurts.”
Jude leaned close to her, their lips almost touching.
“It doesn’t, baby.” He thrusted one time, to make her more used to the movements. “I’m taking the pain away. Just feel me here. That’s all you have to do.” He pressed his hand against her belly and thrusted once again, earning a moan and feeling himself from how big he was.
She could do much better than her boyfriend. He wanted to be the much better.
He started properly moving, hard, fast, desperate for his own release as well. To prove her how much better she could be fucked if he was the one doing it. And each time he hit the spot, he could feel her walls clenching. His hand never left her belly, knowing how deep he was going into her. He couldn’t stop.
She wrapped her legs around his waist and held his hair as his movements became more frenetic, moans dripping from her mouth to his ear with anything he did. He moaned whenever she clenched too hard against him.
“You’re so fucking tight.” he muttered, panting, trying to keep the pace. It was taking all of his willpower to not just come already. She didn’t reply, of course. She was too busy scratching his back and moaning desperately.
His movements became more erratic, slower, and, when her walls clenched around him one last time, he spilled everything inside her and fell to her chest, trying to catch his breath.
“Jude?” She called him out once they could properly speak.
“Yeah?”
“Stay. For the night.” She pleaded softly, caressing his back that were marked by the painting her nails had done.
“I wasn’t planning to go anywhere else, princess.” He smiled at her.
Jude held her against his chest, as she peacefully slept. He leaned his chin on the top of her head and, once he was certain she was sleeping, he sighed.
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“I can’t take the pain away because I’m not your man.” Jude whispered. “But I wish I was.”
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iwaasfairy · 9 months ago
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┌─ “ ! „ HEARTBEAT
tw. pseudocest, noncon, possessiveness, grooming?, age gap, blood, murder, a lot of trauma bonding
wordcount. 6k
a/n. thank yoUUUU rhi for betaing you are my favorite as alwaysssss I love you soooo much ♡♡
okkotsu yuuta x fem!reader
Blood is splattered on the ground of the dirty alley, and there’s another heavy thump when his kick once again lands on the kid’s skull and he moans in pain. He calls him a kid in his head because he’s got that shit-faced little attitude, and now an ugly gap where his front teeth used to sit, but he should be old enough to know better. As a couple passes by the narrow street, he shields things from view a little, before using the long edge of his sheathed sword to push the dumb, bloody face to the side. Because his eyes are starting to look like two overripe tomatoes from the impact, he couches down before the sandy brunet.
“You know what this is about?” Yuuta’s voice is hoarse. He hadn’t really noticed it before, but it’s been a busy week cleaning up your messes. Don’t get him wrong, he doesn’t mind. If anything, it makes him feel sort of useful. You’re good and kind and don’t get into trouble on purpose — which is why he’s here late at night making sure things get handled. Niisan’s got it, after all. He doesn’t bother to clear his voice. “Hey.”
“Take my cash,” the young man below him now whistles through the missing teeth, teary eyes darting around as he pats his hand all over himself to look for a wallet.
Yuuta scoffs. “I don’t want your money. If I did, you think I’d waste my time beating your face in like you had it coming?” The anxious, almost nervous lilt to his own voice doesn’t escape him. If you could see him now, you’d probably say that he was enjoying this too much - and while he is, the idea of this getting back to you doesn’t escape his mind. It won’t though, logically speaking. The kid probably wouldn’t be able to see straight for a couple hours, and you will never find out. “I want to know why you’re hanging around Rika’s kid sister.”
“Kid? W- I don’t know any Rika!” He yelps when he tries to lift his head and gets the handle of the weapon hit hard onto the bridge of his nose again, adding more blood to the mess that’s running all over the bottom of his face. Yuuta really can’t see it, lifting his top lip in slight disgust. Handsome, where? Just as much as this boy isn’t really a kid anymore, neither are you. But you’re younger, and deserving of protection — is it really so bad he wants to imagine you as his baby sister for a bit longer before you start trying to escape from under his wings?
Not that you’re going to go anywhere.
“I don’t know a Rika,” the blond whines again now, hiding his face into his hands to drool and hiccup against the cold floor.
“Orimoto Rika, has a kid sister.” Yuuta bites back, patience running really thin.
“O-I- I kn- oh, we’re in the same uni prep class!” He gets up to close his eyes and focus all his attention on not just kicking against his skull until the answers fall out. He knows that, how else would he even know to ask? The head damage takes it a few seconds to make the guy continue, sniffling. “We’re friends- or- my friend knew her. I liked her so we hung out a few times.” Yuuta’s hand is cold around the worn handle.
He takes a slow breath, watches the cloud of air as he lets it out. The promise ring glints in the light of the street, and it’s all familiarity and instinct that makes him brush his thumb over it. “Were you serious with her? Or did you tell her whatever so you could fuck her? Hm? Did you fuck my little sister?” The brunet snivels and whines under him when his foot lands back right before his face, demanding attention.
“I won’t talk to her anymore, I swear! I swear I w-won’t even - it’ll be like I never existed. Please.” The pitiful whining he’s doing, groveling like a dog below him - sort of reminds him of a younger him. Someone who didn’t have a purpose yet, and was scared of everything for it. The heavy weight of the ring clings to his hand when he lifts it to unsheath the katana, seeming to wrap a comforting palm around his own. If he could, he'd tangle fingers with her.
“P-please, let me go home! I didn’t do- I wouldn’t touch your s-sister, I didn’t know.”
“I hate guys who aren’t serious with her.” He clicks his tongue, and has to spit out the nasty taste that this entire situation leaves on his tongue. The weight of the sword is barely an inconvenience when both hands wrap around the handle properly. He’s doing this for Rika and him. Always. “She deserves so much better.” A mean flash of possession crosses his thoughts - how no one except him will ever be good enough. But he pushes it back, because that has nothing to do with why he’s doing this. Nothing.
+
“Yuuta~” Her voice haunts when he closes his eyes.
He’s in the sandpit of the Children’s hospital, rocking back and forth softly on the edge of it as he waits. The sun makes the sand nice and toasty, it warms his feet when he plants them down. “Yuuta!” It’s instinctive, when he looks up at the familiar voice. Rika’s hair travels in a perfect arc behind her when she runs to make it catch the light like a halo. Pretty blue dress making the shine of her hair even brighter, cheeks rosy, and her eyes glittering diamonds when they find his and she crashes down next to him. Her scraped knee is proof that it’s too hard, but he can’t help but smile when her cheek touches his arm on the landing.
Something hits the floor with a loud thump.
Yuuta turns over his shoulder to watch. There’s a smaller child that’s chin down on the earth behind them two, thick crocodile tears threatening to spill when Rika gasps. “Rika neechan~ Wait.” You pout, straightening up quicker than you should to reach your hands out to her. The girl hurries over to dust your cheeks off and drag you along behind her. It’s such a nice day out, Yuuta’s sweater is just thick enough to make his entire body warm. He stares at your face a little too long, before glancing between you two.
You’re still rounder than she is, but it’s undeniably eerie. “Your sister?” He asks softly, and Rika grins wide. She gently maneuvers you by the hand to sit next to her, then pulls you into a hug.
Her lips are pretty pink when she licks them. “This is Yuuta. Say ‘hi Yuuta’.” You parrot your sister obediently, as she waves your hand around at him. “Me and Yuuta are going to get married. So you should be very nice to him, okay?” Her sweet cheeks are the exact same as yours, long lashes and big, knowing eyes that always have him staring. You just look absentmindedly at the grass when Rika holds you into her side, but nod.
He smiles softly when your big eyes find his again. And Rika giggles. “And she’s gonna be your sister one day, so you gotta protect her well. We’re gonna be one happy family, promise?” She extends her arm to hold out a pinky finger at him. “That’s what I want.”
+
His fingers are pressing indents into your arm. It’s unusual. Yuuta’s always gentle, he’s soft and cares, but today his hand is screwed almost protectively tight around your upper arm, and you can’t say that you hate the feeling. Maybe childishly, you want him to squeeze even harder - so you’ll have no reason to get out.
You don’t come here a lot. Not since the accident tore open the painful scarred memory of it, but even before then, it wasn’t exactly your favorite place. It’s at Yuuta’s gentle prompting that you even managed to dress, and now walk however slowly between the low stone walls. The rain taps impatiently on the umbrella above, as the older boy casts you a careful glance. Then slowly bends to sit on his ankles, and grabs your hand ever so softly, meeting your eyes. His hands, though big enough to dwarf yours now, are almost velvety when they clasp around yours. It feels like he’s exponentially grown, while you’ve stayed pretty much the same.
Partly the illness. Mostly the age.
“Think you can go on?” he softly asks, kind eyes sympathetically regarding you. Like he’s making a judgment call about whether to turn back after all - debating the long walk back to the hospital. “I’ll be right here with you.”
“You’ve already gone before, haven’t you?” Your voice sounds a bit accusatory, a bit pouty too. Can’t be helped. Yuuta could be a living saint and you’d still find it hard. He clearly doesn’t take it to heart, because he smiles. His one hand then moves up to ruffle your hair.
“It’s still hard for me too, though,” his lips quirk up in an almost smile, but you can tell he doesn’t mean it. It’s sort of comforting to know that even someone like him feels it. Of course he would. Your neesan was family, but Yuuta probably knew her better than you ever could. He was beside her when she got out the two times, and was waiting when she had to get re-admitted. He was there when she got hit— there’s a comforting brush of your cheek when he stands back up and the umbrella gets so much higher. Yuuta blinks. “Come. I think you can do it.”
Your chubby cheeks flood with warmth, as you take his fingers into your hands with a nod. “Okay.”
It’s like this that you wind up at the headstone, stepping through dredged earth that’s been walked on too much. It seems to cling to the bottoms of your shoes with intent - you squeeze Yuuta nii’s hand tighter at the sight of the family grave. It now holds three of your kin in a warm embrace under the several bouquets of wilting flowers, and however morbidly, you think that maybe you’ll be joining soon. You’re young, but it’s not lost on you when the nurses send each other pitying looks.
“Is this where neesan’s buried?” Your voice sounds pinched and small, and sort of pathetic. You imagine Yuuta nii cried when he came to the funeral, but he wouldn’t have whined. You’re whining. You don’t want Yuuta to get fed up with you. Not when he’s the last semblance of ‘family’ you have left. After a while of staring blankly at the stone, he nods, and turns over his shoulder to smile at you again, pulling you a little closer to him. Your arms loop around his waist, staring down at the pretty whites that shake under the rain. “Is this where I’ll be buried when I die?”
He freezes. You feel bad about the double take he does when his spine goes more straight, rigid limbs dropping by his side as a deep, uncomfortable breath makes its way out. Your hands wring together instead.
However long it takes for him to unlock his limbs is however long you breathe through your tears as they well up stubbornly along your lash line, before your head is pulled to his ribs into an embrace. He swallows back emotion himself. “That’s not- I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I promise. I promise.”
“I’m sick-”
“No.” His eyes glint with something silvery when he takes your face between both hands and lets your childishness wash over him, clenching his jaw. “What happened to Rika was an accident- I- I couldn’t do anything then. But nothing’s going to happen to you as long as I’m here. I need- you to believe me.”
You don’t flinch when he uses your cheek to turn your face his way, but the urge still sits. His eyes study your face too intently, like he’s looking for something he can’t quite find. “I promised that I’d be a niichan that protects you.”
Rain splatters into a million glistening flecks as it meets the headstone.
“Okay,” you say.
It isn’t lost on you that his jaw is set too tight as he drags you back by the hand towards his bike, fist clenched around the umbrella. He breathes a tiny, ‘Later, Rika’ before turning on his heel. You don’t manage the same. Your voice gets stuck in your throat, even when he helps you up onto the bike rack in the back, pulling your face into his chest too tight- squeezes you to mold against him. He smells nice for a teen boy. The kiss he leaves on your crown is gentle, and leaves a soft warmth on your skin — You doubt it is really meant for you.
+
The door pushes open as you’re putting clips into your bangs, tongue trapped between your teeth. You cast Yuuta a glance through the mirror when he lingers at the door, and try to smile. “I’m almost ready.” You’re no longer too keen on fighting, the longer the silent treatment drags on. After a while of watching you with his arms crossed over his chest — he walks over to your bed to plop himself down and lets himself fall backward.
“I’m sorry,” the noiret sighs at nothing in particular, as you put on a necklace and after debating for a second, some perfume. The noise makes Yuuta look, studying you when you turn. It’s easy to forget sometimes that Yuuta didn’t have to stay with you, and he sure as hell didn’t have to give up a lot of his youth to take care of you like he does. Like your other family refuses to do when all the cards are on the table. He catches your stare. “You know I love you. I… worry when you’re not right here where I can see you. We stick together.”
“I know.” Your smile only barely makes your lips move, but you do mean it. You just wish realizations like this didn’t always have to come at the cost of fighting. “For what it’s worth, I’ll probably always forgive you.” You try to laugh, and brush your hair out of your eyes a final time before grabbing your bag. “I’m only going to be out for a few hours, max.”
Yuuta frowns when he sits up. His dark hair is brushed out of his face, damp and soft from the shower. “You’re still going?”
You blank. “Yeah, Himari and Shota are waiting for me. We’re going to see a movie.” He only has to let his eyes travel over your body and clothing once, for you to read what he’s thinking. You yank the edge of your skirt a bit lower, and pull your shoulders up. “What, what?! I can’t go out looking like this? It’s basically the same length as my uniform, what’s wrong with that?!”
“I didn’t say anything,” he breathes back, empty eyes regarding you with a static sort of- indifference, you guess.
“You don’t have to, niichan! God!” You turn to walk out the room, but Yuuta grabs your wrist when you pass by the bed. Sat down like he is, eyes tracing you like a lion- Yuuta no longer looks like the boy that used to draw stars on the ceiling of your hospital room for your amusement. Your cheeks heat when he basically glares straight at you for your attitude, and mulls the answer around in his mouth. Your anger subsides as you take a breath. This is the guy who makes you fresh apple juice in the morning, and calls you up between shifts. Because he cares. He just cares.
“Can I please go, Yuuta nii?”
After a few seconds, he clicks his tongue, staring at the edge of your skirt before tugging at it too, barely hiding a frown you can see dig between his brows. “You know I don’t like that Shota kid?”
Your lips jut out. “Yeah…” It’s getting awfully close to time to leave. You take a step back just to get his hands away from you. It’s distracting, and this is your brother you’re dealing with. “But he’s really nice. He started high school already but he used to be in my class the last three years, so… so you don’t have to worry. He knows I can’t do everything because I’m sick and he says—”
“Yeah, I’m sure he says everything you want to hear… You’re smarter than this. You don’t actually believe that.”
“He’s my friend.” A friend that makes your heart beat a bit faster when he smiles at you, but what’s it to him? “He doesn’t lie.”
Yuuta grimaces when you stare him down. “Don’t tell me about teenage boys, I used to be one.” He bristles before sitting up straighter, and though he’s technically below you, you still feel his energy tower as those big, dark eyes stay on your face. “Are you really ‘going to see a movie’? Or are you just going to sit in a boy’s room all night while I’m worried sick-”
You’re about ready to walk out, but his fingers are still looped around your wrist. “We are going to the movies! Himari and I! Just because a boy is there- ugh! Niichan, don’t make it weird!” The heat burns higher on your cheeks when you ball your fists, ignoring the pressure behind your eyes. This is so embarrassing. “I want to go.”
It’s quiet for much too long, making goosebumps appear all over your exposed skin. Then he breathes. “Come here.” His voice has more of an edge than it used to. You used to like the way your name fell from his lips. You’re not so sure you do anymore. Instead of storming out and forgetting all about him, you stare back at the sharpness in his eyes. When he pats his lap with familiarity, you jerk a brow. But you sit. His breath brushes along your neck too softly where he’s seated. It tickles on the way down.
It almost feels like… like he could wrap his hands around your neck and squeeze until you stopped struggling.
Yuuta nii wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t.
Fingers come to your necklace, undoing it, and it drops into your lap on the pretty, blue skirt. It’s suddenly much too cold in the room, and you resist the urge to wrap your arms around yourself. It’s fine. You’re fine. Yuuta is family.
Still the untouched skin of your neck feels too exposed.
If he notices your rigid posture, he doesn’t bother fixing it. Just reaches, then pushes your head forward. The childishly familiar pink, bedazzled heart he holds up instead glints, swaying from where you left it on your side table for the night. “You get back at 9,” his lower voice sounds, “or else I’m driving out to wherever you are and dragging you back to my car.” When you don’t say anything in response, he brushes away your hair from your shoulders.
“Yuuta nii,” you start, clamming up when he drapes the dainty thing around your throat and does the closure for you. “I wasn’t going to wear that one tonight.” You don’t always want to wear whatever Rika left behind until infinity.
“I think you will,” he breathes back, and kisses your exposed shoulder. It’s less sweet, more something to punctuate his statement. If he wasn’t so familiar and soft, you’d immediately fight against the way his strong arms wind around your waist to anchor you in his lap. “Just wear it.” His hands stay against your skin, long after he’s finished. Too long, and after seconds of sitting in the tense silence, you jerk up off his lap to grab your discarded bag from the floor. The other necklace drops to the carpet somewhere, but you don’t care.
“Fine,” you bring out tightly, before giving him a last look. Your bottom lip trembles a slight bit, so you suck it into your mouth to make it stop. And tears sting at the corners despite yourself. “Later, then.”
“Tell Himari that niichan says hello. It’s been so long since she’s been here.” He gets up from your bed too, and you resist the urge to rush out the room before him when he steps around you. You can’t fight the feeling that somehow… you were just caught in your lie. Your phone beeps in your bag, as Yuuta nii disappears around the corner. Shota, probably.
+
Blood. The door creaks, swings against the wind.
Dead.
You hope he’s dead. Blood pools at the center of the showers, sinks down the drain too slowly. It sticks to the pretty porcelain tiles of the old school locker room before the water gurgles it down.
They’re dead.
You don’t have to question it before it’s confirmed. Before the heavy, silver cleaver is lodged into the side of the already ruined skull. All of them. All of the boys of the soccer team seem to be present, though you don’t want to try and count. Counting makes it real. This shouldn’t be. The heavy thump makes way for a gross squelch when he yanks the metal out, and keeps the body down with his foot.
The spatters on his face are still wet. You can’t help the way your voice comes out when you breathe in deep and try to keep the tears from spilling over. The cleaver’s red and sticky and so is his hand, up to his forearm, his forehead from wiping his hair away. All of it, ruined.
“Y-yuuta nii?”
The metal door of the locker slams closed with the wind and hits you in the back, sending you skittering forward a few steps before you force the air out of your lungs with a stuttered pant.
With a soft smile, he turns over his shoulder. “Shhh.” The blood’s crusted under his nails when he presses a finger to his lips, then waves you closer. “Help niichan out?” His eyes glint over, before his smile goes a little wider, and he whips the blood off the weapon onto the ground. “S’ your fault I had to do this after all. We can clean up together. Hm?”
Your breathing is so shallow that you can feel your heartbeat in between your ears. You aren’t sure why you nod. The guilt tastes bitter on the way down.
+
Rika was dead on impact. She didn’t have a chance, even after she fought so vehemently against what took your mom. You know that. Even if she didn’t get struck by misfortune then, she might’ve not lived past her teens.
Yuuta doesn’t seem to know. He also doesn't seem to consider the same for you either— letting you toy with the edge of his shirt where you’re curled into him in your too-small bed. The hospital wants you back for another check-up.
It’s true that you’ve already outlived your sister, but that doesn’t mean it’ll last forever. Yuuta nii doesn’t want to hear it. As he brushes your hair with his fingers, you scratch the arm where the IV’s always get attached with an absent minded pout. Until Yuuta notices, pouting down at you. “Are you still feeling dizzy? I can make you some green tea if you’ll let go of me for a few minutes. Lots of honey like you like.” You quickly shake your head.
To him this is final, the worst you’ll ever get, and in reality that’s probably not the case. You don’t tell him though. His deep eyes stay on you a little too long. “What’s wrong?”
Sometimes you wake up and can’t open your eyes past a blurry sliver, your head tight enough to make your skull feel like it’s caving in. Times where you have to clasp your stomach painfully tight to hold yourself together — stumbling in tears into Yuuta’s room. Like you’ll disintegrate in his arms unless you lock him around yourself. This isn’t as bad, but you still feel bad.
Feverish and cold all at once, achy where your stomach goes up and down. You can’t mention the possibility of having to go back into urgent care without aniiki spiraling, so you keep your mouth shut. “I don’t like green tea,” you guiltily admit instead, and stare up at him when he holds a few knuckles to your head, studying you.
His expression scrutinizes you a little tighter, before he pets over your crown. He presses a soft kiss onto your lips. It’s Rika that loved it, you want to say, but for some reason you can’t make the words come out. He sighs, slightly put out, but then nods. “If you’re feeling better later, maybe you can help Yuuta nii with the curry. Okay?”
“Mhm,” you smile up at him, and you can see how the muscles in his jaw unclench.
His soft hands cup your face intently, staring down at you too intently. It starts sweet, until the feeling of his breath dust over your face and you watch as he flicks his eyes all over you. “You look so much like her. I can tell now that you’re getting older though,” his thumb smoothes over your soft cheek. “We should see if there’s something in Rika’s stuff you can still wear.”
“Won’t be able to fit it anymore, niichan.” Your voice comes out apologetic, though you don’t know why.
“Hm. You might be right.” His look goes more distant before he pulls you closer. Legs tangled, arms loosely looped around you. “You’re still smaller than me though. Luckily.” He takes a deep breath, before nuzzling his nose into your crown to breathe long and deep. His warm hands trail over yours before squeezing. “I love you, you know that? Always will.”
You stare at the wall of mementos past Yuuta’s shoulder. Suffocatingly cram packed. Her pictures. Her music poster. Her pre-teen bottle of perfume you wear only on special occasions. Your hands stop toying with the edge of his shirt to brush instead along his forearm until you meet something that isn’t skin. Yuuta’s quiet, but his breathing is slightly pinched— you don’t mean to.
You glance between you two to the plastic your finger hooks onto. The bracelet she made in the hospital care ward for Yuuta that he still wears despite the fact that the color has long peeled off of the cheap beads. “You loved neesan, right?” Your lashes almost brush when you look back at him, watch him trap his tongue between his teeth for a moment as pink sits on his cheeks. His hand wraps around yours to tangle fingers.
“I… did.”
He swallows. “She made the hospital seem a little less lonely.” The mementos seem to stare at you from across the room as he speaks, and the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach refuses to fade. If anything, it gets more painful. Tighter. “We’re going to be together forever though. And I,” he squeezes your hand, voice fading to barely a whisper, “I love you. Love you so much.”
There's a cold slid over your fingers when he moves. You allow him to slip off the band, gently, and almost as if he wants to give it to you without you noticing, his fingers slide the cursed thing onto your hand instead. His smile is gentle, makes those dark eyes look a little less pressing. “When you’re cleared from going back to the hospital, we can find me a matching one. We still have to get married, right?”
The room feels cold.
“... Okay.”
+
“Let’s kiss?”
It’s too late to be early when the shared bed gets crowded over on your side. “St- I’m going to sleep, Yuuta nii. Stop.” You don’t open your eyes to the touch, definitely not to the gentle brush of his fingers over your lips when he gets too close. Always too close- it’s suffocating. “I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”
“Don’t be like that.” He sounds happy. He always sounds like that when it has to do with you, and it doesn’t take long for your eyes to flutter open when the thumb instead pushes into your mouth. “If we get married, this will be normal. Don’t pull back.” He pushes onto your tongue to make you hold it in your mouth all heavy and tasting of him, then leans in to push his forehead to yours. Deep, possessive eyes pinning you in place.
“You don’t want to?” It almost sounds mocking. You know you brought this on yourself. You asked to go home early, you asked to invite friends. Maybe this is payback the way big brothers give it. There’s tears that spring up anyway when his other hand slips under your shirt and he squeezes your soft belly. As the spit he wipes on your lips gets kissed away by an impatient sigh. “I’ve wanted to for such a long time. You wouldn’t ask me to wait more.”
“Yuuta nii. We’re siblings, aren’t we?” The ring glitters. Your hand is clenched into the front of his shirt as warm hands grab down your body— hands you love. Hands you trusted.
“Of course we are. That’s why I’m doing this, silly girl.” Hands that push your underwear down your round hips despite you fighting to keep them up. He giggles when you burn with embarrassment, before pressing kisses to your temple. “I love you. I love you, I love you. Who better to kiss you than big brother?” You shake your head, try to push- he doesn’t budge. Just keeps your body in place under his with his weight.
“G-get off of me, Yuuta! Stop being so weird!” You cry, pushing until he grabs your wrist and forces it down beside your head. He’s still smiling though, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Like you’re still a child acting out. It’s that which makes you squirm more, and the glare digs into your forehead when he gets on top of you. “Stop~ I don’t want to kiss.”
Instead he laces his fingers with your ring hand, as the other patiently flutters down to rub over your pussy. You don’t want to. You don’t. Yuuta just smiles when he tilts his head to regard you, and squeezes your fingers a little tighter. “Rika-chan asked me to take care of you. Don’t get so mad.”
+
It’s getting cooler and cooler and cooler the longer he stands. Pressed in the corner of the sterile, greenish blue atmosphere with white sheets draped over your body. He takes a long, deep breath until the nurse finishes up with the checks, taking freshly drawn blood away in a vial. “You’re the guardian?”
The red stands out against your complexion as your restless sleep drifts deeper— he shifts in his seat to lace his hands together. “Her big brother, yes.”
She doesn’t bother to pretend to care when tapping her clipboard, gives a distracted smile. “The doctor will be here within the next hour, okay? Please wait here until then.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Yuuta’s quick not to let the smile quirk up onto his mouth when she’s already walking out before he finishes. As soon as the door falls into lock he gets up from the uncomfortable chair to kneel by your bedside and grasp your hand.
Soft. Small.
He hates to admit that he could spend hours here by your side; but the truth is the truth. He could, and he has. And he will, until it is no longer necessary.
Yuuta kisses your hand with a gentle smile, feeling your heartbeat thump under his lips. You mumble, he swears he can hear his name. “I’m here. Niichan’s here.” He smiles a little more when the soft fingers wrap back around his hand and he watches your expression relax even in your sleep. He can’t help it, the soft thumping against his cheek makes his entire body warm.
You’re so alive, and so close- every cell in his body yearns to be beside you. He kisses the area between your thumb and pointer in an attempt to soothe the feeling of biting down entirely. Instead he clasps your hand with two of his before standing up. “You would have loved Rika.” His mouth tingles. “She would’ve hated you- but you would have loved her. I think she would have been a bit jealous though.”
He dips to press a soft kiss onto your lips, humming softly when your warm breath dusts over his cheeks. “You’re so cute.” A few years ago, you would’ve had visitors waiting for you. “I know you were looking forward to graduation, but I’m still here for you.” He places his hands on both sides of your face to hover over you instead of pulling back, can’t keep himself from it.
“You don’t want to leave your niichan, right?” It’s not your fault that everyone else wants you to move on. He’ll take you just as you are. He has to force himself to pull back before he kisses you again, so you don’t wake just yet. You will. And you’ll cry into his chest about missing your precious graduation, and about being stuck here again, just when you were getting better. He never much wanted you in uni anyway.
From his space sat on the edge of your bed, he can easily see how the blanket squirms. How the motion curls and wiggles until he easily pulls the sheet down your chest, then your stomach.
Two beady eyes stare up at him as he brings his face a little closer. The fly head is still clinging to your stomach, hasn’t moved from where he left it. By now it’s become an accessory every few months. It’s not strong enough to kill you— just barely enough to keep you believing you’re still sick, and that’s all he really needs. You need his care, need him. He resists the urge to pick the thing up at least until he can take you back home.
Instead he nudges it up a little higher, so he can place his palm onto your belly to stroke gentle circles in its place, feeling the heat through the gown. He can feel your heart bounce all the way down your body, it’s so cute. When the little fodder curse crawls onto your chest, lids shooting open as you gasp. “Yuuta nii-” Your eyes are lined red, and as soon as they find him you start bawling.
More than happy to let him hike you up from the bed and into his arms, where you bury your face into his neck. Your hiccups are so cute. It’s easy to kiss them quiet when you don’t have enough breath to ask him to stop. He’s sure this time he could slip his tongue into your mouth and you wouldn’t say a thing.
All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2024. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.
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soleilapproves · 2 months ago
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you condition your roommate, Gojo Satoru, into expecting a forehead kiss every time he leaves for work.
Notes: gender neutral reader
main masterlist
It all started on a Monday morning.
You had read about classical conditioning the night before- when a stimulus is linked to an action that is done routinely. You were feeling cheeky so you decided to test it out on your roommate who you knew had been trying to ask you out for the longest time.
You’ve been waiting for him to explicitly say how he feels but he’s chickened out way too many times. So as revenge, you played mind games with him. You’d be lying if you said that it wasn’t satisfying to see his shocked expression.
“Satoru, before you leave-“ you skipped to him before he could grab the door handle, and grabbed his arm to turn him towards you.
“-don’t forget this.” You pulled his tie down and kissed his forehead.
The white haired man’s eyebrows reached high enough to almost touch his hairline. “Wha-“
You pushed him out before he could utter another word. “Bye, you’ll be late!”
Soon after that fateful morning, you’d kiss his forehead before work. It became so ingrained in both your routines that he’d simply walk up to you while you were making breakfast and you’d slip him a quick peck.
You almost conditioned yourself to it too. Whenever Satoru would move his hair away from his forehead, your mind would automatically make you lean in towards him. It confused him the first couple times you did it and then you caught yourself on after that. You were the one playing mind games. Not him.
It had been three weeks of giving him forehead kisses when you decided to stop the action.
Your morning started the same way as it always did- you woke up, showered, made your coffee, and then sat down to eat your breakfast. However, it was the opposite for Satoru. He had slept late the night before and woke up with only fifteen minutes to get ready so to say that the apartment looked like it was hit by a hurricane was an understatement.
You saw a flash of white go towards the fridge as you calmly stirred the berries in your oatmeal. “Huh, I was wondering if you had taken the day off.”
“I didn’t. My manager gave me some intern’s report last minute and I had to correct the whole thing. I was up until three am.” You felt bad over how he was rushing to spread jam on his toast so you pulled out a tumbler and began to prepare his coffee as he liked it (so sweet that a hypoglycemic person could be cured).
You could see the effects of sleep deprivation on him- tie crooked, bag half-zipped, shirt tucked out of his slacks and of course, crumbs of bread all of his face. The man looked like a walking mess.
You walked him to the door, handing his tumbler over to him and muttering a small ‘goodbye’ as he shoved his feet in his black leather loafers.
You were about to close the door on him when he stopped you. “Did you forget something?” You innocently asked as you leaned your head to the side while folding your arms.
“No, you did.” He haphazardly moved his hair away from the center of his forehead and pointed at it.
“Why are you doing that?” You wanted to laugh at him so bad but you pinched your arm to prevent it. “What do you mean? You always kiss my forehead.”
“Yeah, but I don’t feel like doing it anymore.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. Do you want me to keep doing it?”
“Yes, I’m way too used to it!” You almost jolted at his urgency. The man was clearly yearning for a forehead kiss.
“But why? It’s weird- only couples do something like that. I don’t know why I did it in the first place.”
“Wow, NOW you care if it’s something couples do?”
Gojo sighed and rubbed his temples with his forefinger and thumb. “Look, I’m really late right now and I don’t have time to explain myself. All I’m gonna say is this- you, me, date at seven tonight. And you best believe I won’t be late for that. Now give me my kiss.”
Your face was flushed after his sudden boldness and you quickly leaned in to press your lips against his sweaty forehead (you had worked him up with your little prank). “I’ll be waiting.” You grinned.
And he had walked right into your trap.
Gojo scoffed at you before closing the door with a small slam. You began jumping as soon as he was out of your vision but your celebration was soon stopped when the door opened
“What now?” You groaned.
The man simply pulled you towards him by your elbow and left a sweet kiss on your cheek. “This.”
Trust me when I say that playing mind games like this is a lot of fun. My ex situationship can’t listen to Childish Gambino without thinking of me 🙏
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thewritetofreespeech · 25 days ago
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Could I request the Itoshi brothers and Bachira with a ballerina reader?
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“You can’t possibly be serious.”
Rin didn’t know a lot about relationship and girls, but he still knew when he said that, he crossed a line.
“Oh really.” [Y/N] snapped back at him. Arms crossed across her chest. Glaring at him with that fiery determination Rin usually respected, but now was a little scared of. “So you admit you think my training is BS compared to your training?”
The two of them had been on very intense practice schedules as of late. Rin training up to prepare for his next match and move up, and [Y/N] training for their upcoming performance and hopefully be scouted for prima in a company. They were stressed out, fried, and exhausted. And what do exhausted people do when they are exhausted? Compare their exhaustion so they make sure that their complaints are justified as they are the only one, in the whole wide world, who could be this exhausted.
“I didn’t say it was ‘BS’. I’m just saying you can’t possibly compare what I have to do to what you have to do. The weight training. The cardio.”
“The stretching. The vaults.”
“The practice matches. The strategy management.”
“Learning every step in the performance, even if it isn’t yours, to memory. Being lifted almost 8 feet in the air and hoping your partner can hold so you don’t break your leg, or your neck.”
“The ice baths.”
“Pointe shoes.”
“Having to deal with Isagi!”
The couple growled at each other before [Y/N] finally snapped. “Fine! You think it’s so easy, you do it!”
“Fine!”
Rin would live to regret that.
The next day, to foolishly prove a point, Rin went through [Y/N]’s whole workout schedule with them. The stretching, the vaults, the practice, the lifts. He wouldn’t let himself be lifted, nor wear pointe shoes, but by the end of the day his body hurt in new ways he didn’t even know were possible. “Still think it’s so easy?”
Rin looked up from the floor he was laying on up at [Y/N]. “Fine. I take it back.”
She smiled and knelt down beside him. “Well, I appreciate that. People think because ballet is all pretty costumes and fluid movements that it’s calm & easy. They don’t appreciate the work that goes into it.”
“I’m sorry.” He realized he was doing that. Belittling their hard work.
Rin sat up and took a sip out of his water bottle. “Are you going to do my training tomorrow then?”
“Sure. What’s fair is fair.” She agreed. “But no weights. I can’t bulk up anymore of Madam Costume Maker will murder me.”
Rin scoffed. “We’ll just do an easy day for you then. If you can’t handle it.”
She punched him in the shoulder, but Rin was too tired to even feel it.
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One thing that people don’t tell you when you become a professional athlete is that it’s not just about the games anymore. It’s the press.
Sae sighed as he came back to his hotel room. Completely drained from having to deal with people all day and answer their silly questions. He just wanted to play football. Why did he have to tell everyone about his fitness strategy or what brand of saltines he liked?
As he was taking off his coat his phone rang and Sae answered it. “Hello.”
“Thank you for the flowers.”
A small smile tugged at Sae’s lips as he heard [Y/N]’s voice. “Of course.” With his game coming up, he was not in town for [Y/N]’s opening night. He felt bad about it, which was strange, but being professionals in their art sometimes they had to make sacrifices. That didn’t mean he couldn’t make an effort. “How was the show?”
“Good. Early critic reviews seem to be positive.” Of course they were with [Y/N] as the prima. “I wish you could have seen it.”
“I will.” Sae explains that he paid someone to film their performance. He had gotten special permission and everything from the company; with a hefty donation. “I’ll watch it later.”
“You sound tired.”
“I am.” He confessed.
“Poor baby,” [Y/N] cooed. Even though she was the one that went through the grueling physicality of dancing, she still seemed more concerned for him. “Why don’t you take a hot bath and get some sleep then?”
“They don’t believe in baths here.” Or at least his hotel room didn’t.
“A shower then. I’ll see you next week?”
“Of course.”
Sae hung up the phone and sighed again. Still tired, but a little refreshed from talking to [Y/N].
He showered and went to bed as suggested. Getting a goodnight sleep for another press tour tomorrow before the game. When he woke up that morning there was a knock at his door and a delivery from room service. A hearty breakfast of an egg white omelet, fresh fruit, and salty seaweed tea. The kind of breakfast he needed but would never get for himself. After accepting delivery, Sae noticed a card on the silver tray and quickly read it.
:Do your best: was all it said, but Sae knew who it was from.
He sat in his hotel room and ate his breakfast in silence. Watching [Y/N]’s performance on TV. Just because they had to make sacrifices didn’t mean that they couldn’t make the effort.
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Bachira had been obsessed with ballerina’s ever since his mother took him to see a show once at Christmas.
The bright costumes. The spins. The music. It always excited him.
Dating [Y/N] was almost like being in the show. Helping them with their choro. Coming to rehearsals to see them practice. Bachira had probably seen the show a hundred times before actually opening night, and yet he was as nervous & excited as the actual dancers.
“You’re going to do great [Y/N]-chan~!” He whispered to her backstage.
“I don’t know…it’s a much bigger crowd than I expected….”
“That’s ok.” Bachira told her. “They’re all just faceless blobs in a crowd. Don’t focus on anyone but me in the first row. Unless…I get removed for cheering too loud. That’s gonna be hard for more….”
[Y/N] chuckled, then kissed Bachira’s cheek. “Thank you. I wouldn’t have made it this far without your support.” The music changed, coming up on [Y/N]’s cue, and they get into position to dance out. “Don’t get kicked out.”
“I’ll try~!” Bachira promised, then went to his seat to watch the performance from the audience. In awe & rapture of the beauty of the show and his partner.
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aperrywilliams · 1 month ago
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Ocean (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)
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Author Masterlist
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.
Summary: Spencer has shut you out for months, and you don’t know how to get to him. A new argument endures, and you think this might be your last chance to make him understand how deep your love for him is.
Word Count: 2.6k
Warnings: Angst/hurt/comfort. Spencer doesn't want to see reasons. Reader and Spencer cry. Mention to Spencer’s time in Milburn.
A/N: It’s just another self-indulgent fic to tell our boy how great he is.
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"Are you going to say something?"
Your voice is clipped, and you feel a whole storm bubbling inside of you. Spencer's silence doesn't help to ease your desperation—a last call for some hope in your already damaged relationship.
As he sits on the couch, his eyes are lost in the window of your shared apartment, tranced by the distant bustling of the streets below. It seems everything is better than looking at you right now.
‘How can someone stand so damn close
And feel like they're a world away?
I can see your sad story eyes
So how do you have no words to say?’
“Please, say something. Anything."
Your insistence sharply contrasts with the demanding tone with which you initiated this conversation—or fight, as Spencer accused you earlier.
Still standing in front of him, you only want him to look at you, to see in his eyes what he really wants.
“Do you want me to leave? That's it?”
You don't know what else to do or say. After bickering for a solid forty-five minutes, Spencer decided he didn't want to respond to your questions/accusations anymore. Coincidence? Hell no. He went silent just after you touched a nerve mentioning the tabu, the only thing Spencer decided must remain unspoken: the three months he was locked in Milbum.
You understood his reluctance at first. Of course you did. Putting in words the nightmare of his days there can’t be easy for anyone, and to Spencer, you bet your ass it was tougher. To lose control, to engage in a world he only knew from afar. Exposed. Vulnerable.
You understood why he didn't want you to visit him there. His pride and self were wounded. However, you would never resent him for it. You said it to him but respected his wishes so as not to put more pressure on his shoulders.
It didn't hurt less, but you were willing to take it.
Weeks followed, and the only news you had about your boyfriend were the messages and phone calls from his coworker, Penelope, and his boss, Emily.
The day he was released must have been the most chaotic you had in your life. And for Spencer, sure, it was worse: His mom was kidnapped by another psychopath, threatening her life.
As Spencer hugged Diana at the BAU, you stayed back, looking from afar, not wanting to disturb such an important moment.
Penelope hugged him after, and then JJ and Tara. The whole team welcomed him before you had the chance to.
When your time came, your eyes locked for the first time in months, and you knew. That man wasn’t the same Spencer you saw the night before he went to Mexico. And you were far from expecting he was, but something felt different with you compared to the reaction he had with the rest of the people there.
Not saying a word, Spencer enveloped you in a tight embrace. Hiding his face in the crook of your neck, he couldn't articulate anything to say. You were the one who reassured him, mumbling encouraging words.
‘Everything is going to be okay. You’re safe now.’
And you believed every word, even knowing the road would be hard. Knowing there would be bad days and not-so-bad ones. But you were determined to make it work because you loved Spencer, and he didn't deserve less from you.
All I want is to fall in deeper than I've ever been
Why won't you let me?
I can handle your heart, so help me.
But Spencer didn't open up to you the next day, nor the week that followed, or the month after. You were patient. You didn't take personally the prolonged silences, the avoidance, the eagerness he showed to go back to work.
At some point, you start to wonder what you have been doing wrong because there is definitely something wrong.
Waiting for him to confide you was the only thing you decided to do. He would come to you eventually. Instead of pushing him, you offered your solace and a safe space for him to be peaceful.
But after three months, things didn't get better; they were quite the opposite. Spencer frequently showed signs of irritability at home and started to snap at almost anything.
And that's when the arguments started. You were getting exhausted by his behavior and the null display of trust from him.
Today has been no different. After coming back from a case, Spencer barely acknowledged your presence, opting for lounging on the couch, too invested in a book to tell you he almost got hurt in the field, and you find it out from Penelope calling you to know how he was doing.
“Spencer-”
“You can leave if you want,” he mumbles, not making eye contact.
“That's not what I asked. I asked if you want me to leave.”
There is a lump in your throat, but it doesn't stop you from voicing your thoughts.
“And for once, be honest with me. Do you want to be alone? Do you want to sulk yourself for God knows how much time?”
There is a brief silence where you think Spencer is truly contemplating his response.
“Yes.”
He says it without looking at you, but his voice is firm enough for you to wonder if he’s lying or not. It hurts. But it hurts you more because he’s hurting and not for the pain he’s inflicting you with his words - or lack of.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
You get his attention this time. He wasn’t expecting you to ask him that.
“Why do you want to be alone?”
You can’t understand why he’s so determined to shut you out. Or maybe you do, but you’re not ready to accept it. Not when you love him more than anything in this world. Not when you are sure your love must count to something for him. Yeah, maybe you can’t ‘fix him,’ but you’re sure as hell you can help him to heal.
Spencer huffs in frustration. What can he say? The truth? It's too simple and yet too complicated to voice.
“I realized it’s better that way. There is no reason for you to stay.”
Is he turning his motives into altruistic ones? It's like he doesn't know you at all.
“There isn’t? You are not reason enough for me to stay?”
Spencer stands from his spot, running his hands through his hair.
“You don't get it? Do you?! Do you want me to throw the words on your face? Uh? I thought you were smart enough to realize by now I can’t love you anymore!”
It's the first time he has yelled that way to you in months. Years, maybe? All the last arguments you both had recently were more like ‘snappy-sassy Spencer’ and a ‘sassier you.’
He just said, ‘I can’t love you anymore,’ and not ‘I don’t love you anymore.’ You don’t miss the wording, and you’re praying right now not to be reading this wrong.
Maybe this is the crack you were waiting for to get to him. Carefully, you look at Spencer, waiting for him to continue, but he doesn't.
“Okay,” you mumble, sitting again on the couch, your feet planted on the floor and hands on your knees. Spencer raises an eyebrow, confused by your posture and response.
“Okay?”
You nod. “Yeah. Okay. You can’t love me anymore. I accept it. And I’m not happy with that, but okay. I can’t obligate you to feel in a certain way if you don’t.”
“But you should be hating me,” he refutes. “I failed you, and now I’m ending things.”
You take in his words. Spencer assumes he’s the one to hate, and even if you want to, you know you can’t.
With pursed lips and soft eyes, you gesture to the spot beside you on the couch, inviting him to sit. Spencer understands and, after a second of contemplation, slowly moves to sit there, curious about what you are thinking right now.
“Can I tell you something?” you start. “It's humanly impossible for me to hate you. And yeah, maybe I should, but I can’t. Maybe you can’t love me, and thank you for doing it at some point, by the way. But it doesn't mean I’ll stop caring about you. It doesn't mean I don't want to see you happy because, despite all the awful things you think about yourself, oh, flash news, you deserve to be happy.”
“Don’t-” he wants to refute, as always he does, but you have to make a point.
“Spence, please, let me say it.” Spencer stops and concedes at your request, even if he thinks it useless and that you shouldn’t put that effort into him.
“I know you think you disappointed people for what happened. You haven’t told me that much, but I know. And I can understand you are scared and that maybe I’m not the one you want to confide in. I respect it, really. But please, if at least a fraction of what I think matters to you, believe me, I have never doubted whatever you did in there; you did it to survive. There is nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing.”
It's a hard pill to swallow for Spencer. He never wanted to tell you what really happened when he was in jail. Granted, you are not a profiler, but you know him enough to see through him.
Here you are, next to me
So much beauty at my feet
All I wanna do is swim, but the waves keep crashin' in
No, I'm not afraid to drown
Take me out, take me down
I'm so tired of the shore
Let me in, baby
You're an ocean, beautiful and blue
I wanna swim in you
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. And I’ll leave if it's what you think I should do, but not before telling you how I see you. God, Spencer. You have no idea how great a human being you are. You always prefer to sell yourself short instead, but I know you. If the time we have known each other taught me something, it's how compassionate, understanding, and loving you are. Believe me when I tell you that to love you has been the best thing I have done in my life. And I would do anything for you, even if that means walking away from you.”
You don't know when the tears started to fall, but now you can feel them running down your cheeks and landing in your hands resting on your lap.
Spencer’s glassy eyes tell you he has heard everything you said, and you hope he believes you. At least you have tried pouring your heart into words. It isn’t easy for you to do. That’s something you have in common with Spencer. Your love language is acts of service more than words of affirmation, but you know this time, you need the words.
A tear makes his journey from Spencer’s eyes down his jaw. But he can’t say anything. He thinks if he says something, everything in him will crumble.
You wait, not so sure what, but wait. As Spencer keeps his silence, you think you have nothing more to do, so you break eye contact.
“Okay. That's what I needed to say. I guess that’s it.”
A shaky breath anticipates you getting up from the couch. You stroll to the bedroom to grab your go-bag.
Approaching the door and grabbing your keys from the bowl, you bit your lower lip because you don’t want to cry in front of him anymore.
Like a lighthouse, I've been shinin' bright
Through the dark for both of us
And I've done it outta love is not enough
But God, how I wish it was
And I don't wanna find out
How much lonely I can take before you lose me
Baby, look at me and swear you won't lose me
Determined to leave, you open the door, and before you cross the threshold, a heartbreaking sob paralyzes you in place. Then, a wail and Spencer's broken voice.
“Please, don’t leave!”
It is heartbreaking and comes to you like a prayer from the depths of his being. You stop in your tracks but refuse to look back at him.
“I know I don't deserve you, but please, I can’t - I can’t lose you.”
Wiping away his tears, Spencer gets up from the couch and quickly reaches the door. You still have the bag in one hand and the keys in the other, with your back to him.
“I love you more than you can imagine, and I was determined to let you go. I thought I had hurt you enough.”
“Did you were setting me free? From you?” you mumble, still not wanting to turn around, tears blurring your sight. Spencer sniffles.
“I thought it was the right thing to do. Why drag you to my shit once more? Fuck, you always have been there for me, and it is so unfair. How did I repay you?”
“Repay me?” You let the bag fall with a thud. This time, turning to face Spencer. “Do you think this is about repaying? Jesus, Spencer. I never had ask you that.”
“I know. I know,” he rushes to say. “But I feel like I’m not good enough. An ex-junk. An ex-convict. And a lot of baggage to carry.”
Your fingers fidget with the keys as you hear Spencer beating himself.
“Nothing of that has changed the way I see you. I’m not saying you have to be the same, nor do you have to keep still about it. I love you with all the scars you have and the ones that will come. And I want to help. You don't have to do this alone.”
“It's a lot. I don't even know where to start,” Spencer’s voice croaks, shoulders slumping in defeat.
“We can figure it out. Together. It won’t be easy, but I promise it will get better.”
Your soft eyes and hopeful words warm Spencer’s heart. He can’t conceive you are even real. He can’t fathom how you are still here in front of him after all. He can only conclude that your love is big enough to hold you two at this moment when his weakness consumes him.
Still sobbing, Spencer rushes to envelope you in a tight embrace. But unlike the hug you shared in the bullpen when he was released months ago, this time, he's the one telling you reassuring words.
“I love you. I couldn’t be more grateful for having you. I promise I’ll heal. I promise not to shut you out again. My love, my everything.”
As you cry with Spencer enveloped in his arms, your heart feels hopeful that you both will find a way to get through this. Together.
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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers
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