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madamechrissy · 3 months ago

Text

Baby You're No Good

Pairings - Cult leader/clan Leader Geto x F! reader

Summary - You have been promised to marry the psychotic, human hating leader of the Geto Clan, Suguru. Your heart sinks at the wedding when you realize you're likely to be ended once you've fulfilled your duty, giving him an heir. He detests you on sight, as do you, but something happens the first time you lay together, Suguru swears you're some witch, because he can't get enough of you. He becomes consumed with fucking you, with the excuse of 'having an heir' but you begin to wonder just where the lines are blurring. Would you survive this- and will Suguru survive being with you?

CW- Arranged marriage trope, ENEMIES TO LOVERS, psychotic Geto lol- lots of hate sex, Suguru calling you a stupid monkey, angsty in places, FULL of smut. Reader is a virgin bc she's sheltered due to been promised to him. Reader is FEISTY asf and mean right back. Explicit sex and Geto being whipped/insane/obsessed and psycho. This part- OH BOY- fingering, Suguru being a psychotic munch so oral (f recieving) rough sex, dirty talk, multiple positions, choking and smacking (in and out of the bedroom) cockwarming, mating press, creampie, TOXIC asf, hate sex, angst. WC this part- 8k

Will be three parts I THOUGHT now looking like four lmao <3 Plz share/comment/ like if you enjoy!- This won the poll as the thank you for 7k followers, tysmmm!

<<<Part One - Playlist - Masterlist - Part Three (soon) Based on Clan Leader Geto

Part Two

“Now.”

Suguru’s quiet command was just that, a command, one for you to obey as his ‘wife’. But you damn sure weren’t going to act like you wanted to fuck this deranged psycho any more than you already did.

“Get it over with then, the sooner I get pregnant the better.”

“Exactly, we won’t have to do this any longer. Useless little-”

You smack him, earning a psychotic glare, violet eyes glittering dangerously as your hand stings, and red lifts on his perfect face. “Call me a monkey one more time.”

He smirks, leaning close now, yanking you to him, turning you and unzipping your dress, letting it fall, so you don’t see just how perfect he thinks you are. His hands slip around your front, one sliding up to squish a breast, thumb brushing a nipple, making you cry out before you can stop yourself, he chuckles at your response, his other finding your pussy now, dripping.

“Already so wet, hmm? Admit it, you love getting fucked by me, you know how above you I am, pathetic… human. Hmm?” You turn in surprise, as you’re soaking his fingers now, your lips parted, tantalizing, eyes rolling back as he finds your engorged little clit, swirling his fingers on it.

“Fuck… you… mnh…” Is all you manage, as he feels your hair fall back against his chest, and his cock is already throbbing, even after jerking it this morning and last night, he has to be inside you again.

“Soaking me from a little touch? So fucking pathetic.” He whispers, you bite down on your lip, shoving at his hands then, turning.

“Just put it in, I can take it now.” You have him lifting you like you’re nothing, and for this brief moment when he holds you, and your lips are too close, he pictures it, letting go with someone so measly and useless, someone so annoying and absolutely insolent.

But he can never think that way.

He tosses you on the bed, spreading your thighs, spitting right on your pussy then, you gasp at it, lewd and wanton, as he watches the bubbly clear liquid pool between lips still puffy from getting fucked last night. He moans at the sight, at loud, as he leans down, inhaling you, and you shove at him with your feet, earning another death glare.

“What are you doing, just get it done. Don’t… whatever that is!” He aches to taste you, fuck you’re annoying him, the scent driving him insane. He can smell how badly you want him, as he gathers his spit and shoves it in your little hole, and you whine out, sore and throbbing.

“Stop thinking you can tell me what to do, you’re nothing but a tool for me, a pretty little tool.”

“Pretty huh?” You cry out as he scissors his fingers now, done with your remarks, his other hand slamming on your mouth, muffling your protests.

“Will you shut up, fuck I’ll get there.” Suguru took his time with things, he wants to devour every pretty inch of your body, but you’re correct, it is in fact stupid to do so, to waste the talents of his tongue and mouth on your pretty, but useless human body. “Undress me.”

You take a shaky breath, sitting up now, with no help of his, undoing the buttons of these black robes he’s wearing, pretentious and royal, stupid just like him. You’re filled with so much hate your chest heaves, as you realize your body wants this, and you hate that it does. You quickly drop his robes and once again, gulping as you remember the initial pain last night.

Suguru watches you hesitate, raising a dark brow now, acting as if his tip leaking precum is just so normal for this situation. “Go on, I’ll allow it.” He says then, and your eyes narrow.

“Allow what?” Your voice is full of laughter, he wonders if you have any sense of self preservation, serving to only infuriate him further.

“You to serve me, you may if you beg pretty enough.” He tilts your chin up then, and you burst into laughter, only making him scowl down at you.

“I’ll not serve you anymore than I already have to. Get one of your little cult girls to do that.”

“You insolent-”

“Come on now, what position is best for baby making?” He turns you around then, until you’re on your knees, you look back wildly at him, at his flexing muscles, his long dark hair falling over a shoulder as he grabs your hips.

“Arch your back, monkey.” Your jaw sets, and he realizes very quickly you won’t, sighing and rolling violet eyes, pressing between your shoulder blades, yanking on your hip and almost cumming at how pretty your ass looks arched. “Fuck…”

“This is the best po-mnh!” He’s pressing his tip against you, up your slit now, which pools out arousal, when he smacks you firm on one ass cheek. “Don’t fucking do that psycho!”

“You’ve irritated me.”

Your ass looks perfect with his handprints.

“Now, arch more, hmm?”

He just wants a good look at you, how small your waist looks like this, how your ass is shaped so perfectly, hips fitting in his big hands that are taking you over, and he presses deeper, sucking in his moans. His thumbs press into the dimples on your lower back, cursing silently at how perfect you feel, gripping just his tip he could cum, his head falling forward as he leans over you.

His feet planted on the floor, he presses further, making you cry out, as he stretches you, fills you, and damn if it doesn’t feel good. You bite it back again, inhaling sharply as he leans over you, his hair now falling against your bare shoulders, his breath hot in your neck as he shoves his cock so deep. His hand comes to cup your chin, turning it to make you look up at him.

God you’re pretty.

“Got you to shut up- hah.” He huffs, and you open your mouth to protest when he slams your cervix, squeezing your throat just so, until you’re fuzzy, and your cunt is slick, sucking him in hungry.

“F-fuck you… hate it…” You whisper, he laughs then, deep and dark in your ear, squeezing your throat tighter with long fingers, beginning to fuck into you, lewd noises filling your bed chamber as he moves.

“Could fucking kill you right now, tiny, pathetic little neck. Could snap it right now, huh?” He squeezes further, and you should be terrified, surely, but instead you’re convulsing around his cock, making you both sigh in pleasure, as each of you try to hide your body's reactions, and fail the more he pumps.

“Kill me… then… do it…” You whisper, and he squeezes more now, your windpipe pressed between his strong hand, as he presses fully in, bottoming out all his inches in your pussy, and you scream silently, eyes rolling back in your skull as you feel fuzzy, like you’re floating.

“I could do it, oh I could do it.” He loves it then, feeling as you’re close, he can tell with how your body jerks and moves, then he’s shoving deep and rolling his hips, watching as you shatter for him. “Can’t fucking help it, feel too good?”

You shake your head even as he’s squeezing your neck, as you’re cumming all over his cock, when he lets go, and you take a breath, burying your face, fingers gripping the silk red and black blankets. You don’t see Geto losing it, his hands shaking, cock pulsing as your walls flutter, and he feels it, he’s close already, you’re too tight, you’re too much.

Annoying.

“Don’t wanna show me how much you like it, do you?” You shake your head, gasping for a breath then.

“Hate it, hate you, hate your dick- ah!” He’s on you then, prone position, heavy weight over your much smaller body, taking you over. You’re whimpering helplessly when he finds your clit again, and shoves his cock deep. “S-stop touching it, shit!”

“You like it, huh?” You bite your lip, shaking your head as he fucks you far too intimately, one elbow holding himself up, hand right back on your throat, as he laps up sweat that’s dripping down the curve of your neck. “You love it, me inside you, don’t you monkey?”

“Fuck you.” You manage to breathe out, giving him no satisfaction as you bury your face again, hands gripping the blankets so hard they’re crumpling, screaming as he makes you cum again, as he makes you hate him more.

Suguru loses himself in you, burying his face in your neck, as he had last night, groaning softly as he feels your orgasm surround him, milk him, pulling his fingers back finally giving your overstimulated clit a reprieve. He puts his fingers to his lips then, and when he tastes you!?

Suguru pauses his thrusts, the sweetness of you unlike anything he’s ever tasted, making his cock twitch inside you, and suddenly it’s too intimate, it’s too much, having him inside you, on you, teeth sinking into your neck. It feels far too perfect, and you despise this monster even more for it, for making you weak against him, under him like this.

“God…” He murmurs, confusing you when he presses his lips against your ear, breath tickling it again, making you shiver. “Ready for me to fill you up?”

“Get it d-done.” You squeak out, he yanks you further down on his cock, pumping inside you then, and you swear this psycho cult leader whimpers, it’s almost disorienting hearing it, you barely manage to focus, as your vision swims. When his sexy - fuck it’s not sexy - moan fills your ears, and he’s shoving his thick cock so deep, you can’t stop your body’s reaction.

You’re cumming again, only edging him on further, laughing at you, even as he’s crying out, pulling your hair by the nape of your neck, pumping so deep. “F-fuck… gonna put so much in you, fill you till your stupid little ass can’t walk.”

“Fuck you- ngh!” Your orgasm is just extended as his cum fills you so deep inside, feeling him pulse and spurt so much cum it’s stupid.

“Bratty, annoying, insolent… fuck…” perfect, you feel perfect.

Suguru supposes if he had to be paired with a monkey, you were by far the best, he’d never felt anything like you before, even how you smell, the softness of your skin, everything just draws him in. He tries to shake himself out of the stupor, feeling your aftershocks milking every last drop from him, impulse making him press a kiss on your upper back.

“Don’t do that.” You whisper now, and he pauses himself, why is he kissing your skin, why is he lingering. This isn’t what this is for, it’s for power, it’s for an heir to get the Geto clan off his fucking back.

After that you won’t be needed to breed would you?

Suguru contemplates that for a moment, still laying on you, hoping you don’t get pregnant any time soon, which confuses him more than anything, as you’re gasping for a breath under him, wriggling just so. “You’re heavy, get off me.”

“You’re such a mean little bitch, you know that?” He hops off you then, turning you to your back and shoving you down by your collar bones, your breaths come faster as he looms over you, thin sheen of sweat coating his perfect body.

“A bitch? You expect me to be happy, to worship you? I never will.” You whisper, his fingers itch to touch you more, when he finally pulls back, and sees it, the milky white cum starting to ooze from your little hole. The sight of it ignites something feral in him, as he takes his fingers and scoops it up, your mouth drops open just a bit.

“You’re not even keeping the cum inside you, hmm? Guess I’ll have to help you keep it in.” He shoves his two thick, long fingers in your cunt then, watching as your hole swallows it, and you’re whimpering, so sexy his cock, sticky from you still, twitches again.

“N-not necessary, is this?” You whisper, clearly naive and innocent, it’s him defiling you really, but how can he help himself, when he needs more of you.

“It is very necessary, slutty little cunt wasting it all.”

“Slutty, bet your cult girls are like a - ah!” Suguru is curling his fingers in you again as you speak, making you stutter, when his thumb hits your clit again. “That… part… why do you…”

“Cumming, it’ll help it take.” You frown at him, brows drawing together. “It’s not as if I want you to have pleasure, or work at it, but it’s true.”

“We’re already done now though, can you- f-fuck I…” You’re gushing down his hands, the mix of his own cum and yours making him die to taste it.

“Tsk, so messy, aren’t you?” He slips his fingers out now, putting them inside your mouth, only for you to enjoy this asshole’s taste before you think better and bite the shit out of his fingers, making him scowl as he pulls them back. “Not just weak and useless, you’re stupid. Think I won’t kill you before you have a baby?”

“Worth it to bite your stupid fingers and slap your stupid face.” You sit up as he finally stands, blushing for a moment as you see the wet spot you’ve caused, as you see his cum trailing down his tip. You think wildly about licking it before you stand and turn away, clearing your throat and bending down to get your robes.

“You’re lucky my family needs you around, or I’d send a curse in and kill you in your fucking sleep.” You roll your eyes, adjusting your robes now as you turn, seeing him still shirtless, as he adjusts his own robes.

“Anything else you require of me, husband or Lord Geto- whatever the hell I’m supposed to call you.” He chuckles then, cupping your face, but not sweetly, no he’s squeezing it, violet eyes so dilated they look black, the intensity making your heart falter for a moment.

“Your mouth is just begging to be shut. Maybe if I fuck your throat good enough you’ll lose your voice?” He taunts, and your glare just makes him hard all over again, along with the thought of fucking this insolent mouth of yours. “Nothing to say about that? Get you wet?’

Yes.

“You wish.” He smirks his full lips, trailing his fingers down your waist now.

“You’ll be dripping me all day, won’t you?”

“I sure hope not, it’s uncomfortable and disgusting.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“You are!” You shove at him now, breaths faster and faster, he loses his smirk, his humor, gripping your wrist bruisingly.

“You’ll be ready for dinner tonight, as well as my meeting tomorrow, you’ll be everywhere I am publicly.”

“Oh joy, can’t wait.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he opens the door, summoning the little bull curse again, who runs up to you now. Suguru’s eyes narrow, as he turns and watches the curse lick your cheek. He’s known the curse to be odd, but the way you giggle, how your face lights up?

He’s seen you scowl, seen tears in your eyes, seen your jaw set and your eyes full of fire, but for the moment you’re just happy, as the curse is nudging at your hand, and he realizes you’re not just a pretty human. You’re fucking beautiful, the kind of girl who would have taken the Suguru of Jujutsu high days by his heart, that would have had him desperate for you.

He’s not that man, but some part of him annoyingly persists, the part that misses Gojo, Shoko, fuck he misses Nanami, so many of his fallen classmates. The rage he holds is usually enough to keep the loneliness at bay, the fact that though he’s surrounded by people who love him, who need him, he’s truly alone. There are no friends, there is no love anymore.

You remind him of a past he aches to forget, when your smile and glittery eyes look at him, before they fall, and you remember yourself, which Suguru needs almost, he doesn’t need to crave happiness for you. A means to an end, perhaps the sex has ruined his fucking brain.

“Could I name him?” You ask, and he wants to smile at you, the smile he used to have, not the cruel psychotic smirk, but instead he just shrugs a broad shoulder.

“If you must, I never gave him one. He’ll keep you…” Safe. “From leaving, but he won’t…” Hurt you. “He’s very calm.”

“I know, I like him a lot. Hmm, I’ll think of a name for you, handsome boy.” You tease him, and then Suguru hears your tummy growl quite loudly, making you flush in embarrassment.

“I’ll have someone show you where the kitchens are.” He says, he hasn’t even contemplated that you need food, and even curse users eat. Clearly he’s been a little too… involved with that insane pussy you think is normal, to worry about you properly functioning.

“Oh thank you I guess… I haven’t eaten since I’ve been here.”

“Ah, that’s… not okay for making a baby.” A baby, the words hit hard then, you know your duty but to think of it… to think of your life being over… to think of bearing this man a baby.

Your tummy lurches even as you’re starving.

“I’ll send the girls up, they’re a little more…” What should he care of your comfort!? “They’re well adapted here, it’s their home.” You nod then, and he walks out, leaving you with this derpy looking curse, body aching from Suguru’s touches, as you sit on the bed, and the curse jumps up for more pets.

Just who was Suguru Geto, how did he get this way?

Should you even care, and would you survive long enough to know if it’s even worth it?

Soon Mimiko and Nanako are giggling, taking each of your hands, sucking on little lollipops and damn near frolicking, as they guide you through each hall of this ridiculous estate. They start asking you more and more questions, and for whatever reason it doesn’t feel malicious, like Suguru, like the others, like the Geto family.

“Dad seems to really think you’re pretty.” Nanako says, and you shake your head with a laugh.

“No way.”

“Have you seen how he stared at you? While you were dancing?” Mimiko asks, and you almost snort.

“Yeah, no, your dad… hates me. Clearly.”

“Hmm, I don’t think so.” Nanako says, then points to a kitchen with cooks actively working, the aromas making your tummy growl again. “Go ahead, get whatever you want.”

“It’s all yummy.” Mimiko says, they run over and giggle, grabbing little pieces of different sushis, as the curse licks your hand, you smile a bit at him.

“What if I named you Sashimi?” It lolls its tongue out, head tilting to the side, and you giggle. “I like it though!”

Suguru finds you sitting with his daughters, who are on either side of you, stirring something in him that should not be there. But it’s undeniable, when you smile softly at them, a smile you’d never shoot his direction. Manami comes and tries to kiss him, which he quickly tilts his head away, but not before you catch him, but your eyes avert and you show no emotion.

Do you feel anything towards him but pure hatred and fear? Has he given you any reason to? Do you feel this odd energy, or is it all in Suguru’s head?

“It wouldn’t look right.” He says. Manami is his best and most loyal assistant, but he can’t stand the thought of anyone touching him.

But you.

And would you ever?

Why does he care?

“Then later, Lord Geto?” She asks, and he eyes her for a moment, her breasts apparent in this low cut blazer.

“I think it best I don’t… divert from trying to have an heir with… my…”

“Your wife?” She finishes, laughing a bit, Suguru’s jaw tenses.

“Best to spend the energy there, get it done.”

“As you say, Lord Geto. What’s on the agenda for today?” He starts to speak, but all he can really think is how much he wants you to hit him again, how just that feels like more than he’s had since long ago.

Annoying girl.

*****

Three days later

Over the next few days, Suguru can’t get enough of your pussy, of your face when he makes you cum, of your scent, of your presence. He hates it, how much he wants you all the time, like you’re some leech that’s sunk into his brain. He constantly calls you in for more, now you’re right in his office, he’s fingering you as you sit on his lap, your legs up on the arms of his enormous leather seat.

“You’re close, aren’t you dumb little monkey?” He whispers, you shake your head, jaw clenched when he pulls his fingers out and you whine pathetically. “Oh, need something?”

“Just fuck me, god.” Your legs are shaking as he’s teasing you with his fingers again, circling your clit, his other hand gripping your breast, squishing it in his hand, cock aching to pump you full.

“Sit on my desk.” He orders, husky toned, you struggle to get up, and he laughs cruelly. “Can’t stand huh? Gotta do everything, don’t I?”

He hoists you up, spreading your thighs then, sinking back into his seat as he eyes your perfect pussy, and he’s so tired of holding back, what he’s been dying to do, as he leans over, fingers pressing into the plush of your thighs. Your eyes go wide when you feel his breath on your clit, making you jerk, this mother fucker inhales you, moaning and shutting his eyes.

“What… are you sniffing me!?” You demand, thighs threatening to close, and Suguru exhales, eyes locking on yours.

“I’m going to fuck you with my mouth.” Those words are far too attractive, as your pussy throbs in response, you try to focus, you hate this psycho, you can’t have him further fucking up your head.

“That’s not how babies are made, Suguru.”

“Orgasms help, remember?” You frown, biting your lower lip, it seems too intimate, it seems like too much, as your hands grip his desk, and your hips arch, his lashes lowering, casting shadows on his cheeks.

“I cum anyway, stop acting like you don’t know that.” You look away, hating even admitting it out loud, and he smirks, chuckling and making you tickle again, as he spreads your puffy lips, watching your pussy drool out wetness more and more.

“Try not to scream too loudly.” You snort, rolling your eyes.

“Oh you’re so full of yourself, I doubt- ah!” He swipes the flat of his tongue from your hole, and then when he tastes your honeyed arousal, it’s over for him.

Moaning, he drags you against him now, closer to his face as he swipes his tongue in, and your head falls back, mouth open in a slutty O as he lavishes you, it feels so good you’re not sure you’ve ever enjoyed something this much. Addictive with each stroke, with each breath, the way his teeth hit you, fuck how his straight nose bumps your engorged clit.

Your hands instinctively grip his silky hair, for the first time you’re touching it, glossy strands in your fingers as you try to pull him off, it’s too good, way too good, this can’t be something you do. He’s licking you up and moaning, tastebuds slid inside your fluttering walls, as you desperately cry out, whining and pulling at his hair for him to detatch his mouth.

“What are you doing!?” You manage to squeak out, and he pulls back just a bit, feeling your little pathetic hands pulling on him, as if you could stop him now, that he has your slick all over his lower face.

The sight of Suguru Geto between your thighs, licking his glossy lips, eyes dilated and drunk off your pussy is far too tempting. You feel your pussy clench around nothing, as your breaths come quicker and quicker, and Suguru exhales right on you, smirking as he watches your tiny clit twitch for him in response.

“Eating your pussy, are you so stupid you don’t know what it is?” You bite your lower lip, glaring now.

“I’ve heard of it, I just… Why do you want to? Remember, you don’t want to ‘prep a monkey’ your exact words.”

“Will you shut up and just…” He pulls you back again, and he’s devouring you, no other word for it, the insane way he licks you, drinks you up, the sounds of him inhaling and slurping obscenely in his office, and you find your hands pulling him closer.

As he feels you press your cunt further in his face, he’s done, cock throbbing in his pants and oozing precum out, making him damn near cum as he feels her clenching his tongue. He dares to look up, tilting his head that you’re still yanking on, your thighs trembling on each side of his raven haired head, as you whimper, hiccuping in pleasure, tears falling from your eyes.

“Close, aren’t you?” He whispers, tauntingly, those violet eyes glinting as you shake your head, and he laughs, just the laugh touching you he sees you’re drooling more and more from your pretty pussy. “No?”

“Don’t like it.” You whisper, he smirks and flicks his tongue one more time, ending you, your orgasm washes all over your body until you are cupping a hand on your face to stop your scream, and he moans again, drinking all your cum that’s pouring down out of you.

“Fuck…” He whispers, more to himself than anything, Suguru loves eating pussy but he never thought a pathetic human would taste like you, your heat burning him, he can hardly delatch his mouth even as you pull on him.

“What even… is that…” You weakly manage, and he slips two fingers through your slick, your hands fall weakly when he leans over now, undoing his robes to reveal his ready cock, thick and heavy, slapping his belly button and leaving sticky white residue on his robes.

“Shut it, useless little human.” You can’t find the energy to scowl, your body is still shaking, trying to recover from all the pleasure he’d brought you. You grip his biceps as he sinks into you, so wet he slips in easily, and you’re so sensitive you almost cum when he slips all the way inside.

“Shit…” Is all you manage, you want to tell him- hurry up or - fuck you- maybe - hate you- but for just a moment he’s got your brain too addled, when he starts fucking you, you’re clinging to him, whining, and you hate yourself for it.

He hates you, as he watches you for once pliant, sweet even, fuck what would it be like if you wanted this fully, if you wanted him?

He can’t think like this, no it’s your pretty face and your sweet taste, he can’t stand how bad he wants to kiss your lips as he spreads you over his desk, pumping in and out of your slick cunt over and over. Your thighs grip him, your hands gripping his arms so tightly, when your head falls back, and he’s kissing and licking your pretty throat.

“Shut you up, it is possible.” He whispers meanly in your ear, and you try to focus, as his tip drags on your spot.

“F-fuck y-you.” He smiles, he smiles, loving just how that sounds, a tiny little mewl of words.

“I am fucking you, should thank me.”

“Never.” He groans now, yanking you down, turning you so you’re bent over his desk, feet dangling like you’re nothing, the way he moves you with his strength is heady, exhilarating, not frightening like it should be.

Suguru is shoving his cock back inside, gripping your wrists behind your back. He can’t take how pretty you look, he needs to stop, it’s easier this way. “Won’t thank me for fucking you? Me, a curse user, you a-”

“Shut up and fuck me then.” You glare, turning your pretty face to him, and he does just that, slamming into you again and again.

“Fuck… stupid, pathetic little thing-mnh…” He busts deep inside you, squeezing your wrists so tightly you can’t even feel them, cum filling you to the brim. He exhales as your head rests on the cool wood, and tears fall.

Why did he have to make you enjoy him more?

Suguru turns you and releases you now, you stumble and the fucker doesn’t even catch you, instead he hovers, lips just an inch from yours, as you struggle to gain any senses. “I hate you, Lord Geto.”

Suguru, could you call him Suguru?

“I don’t even hate you, you’re so insignificant.” He whispers, tilting your chin up, imagining having you taste yourself off his mouth. “Hate is even too good for a nothing like you.”

“I have enough hate for both of us.” You whisper back, before stumbling away, righting yourself, hurriedly walking to the door when he murmurs.

“My meeting tomorrow, you’ll be there.”

You just scowl and walk away, detesting the thought of having to be in a room full of psychos that want you eradicated. “Why?”

“You’re my wife, it’s one of your duties.”

“They want me dead.” He scoffs now.

“And you think I don’t?” You stomp off, slamming the door, Suguru groans as he slumps into the chair, burying his head in his arms on the cherry wood desk, thinking of how much he wishes he did want you dead.

*****

“Are you ready for the meeting?” Manami asks, coldly, and you smile at her then, shaking your head.

“You’re so worried about me, why? I don’t want your cult daddy.”

Manami glares now, tossing back her red locks. “Cult daddy!?”

“Yeah, him, you can have him. What do I fucking care? I am sure he still comes to you plenty, and I won’t stop him.” She blinks once more, mouth open in shock.

“You haven’t… you don’t care if he does?”

“Not one bit.”

“Then why hasn’t he-”

“Let’s go, monkey.” You hear now, and he catches sight of you, in a gorgeous white gown that makes your skin glimmer, you’re far, far too beautiful. For a moment he's standing there, stupidly, thinking of just how good your pussy tasted yesterday, thinking of burying his face back against it, before he shakes it off, clearing his throat. “Did I stutter, human?”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go then.” You huff, as Suguru’s assistants eagerly set up the stage he’s to be on, and you’re both behind this dumb fucking curtain. “You’re pretentious as fuck.”

“What did you say?” He demands, brows lowering, and you laugh then, shaking your head.

“A stage, a microphone, as if you’re something so profound, and not some angry little fucking emo bitch.” Suguru glares now, smacking you right in the face, instantly hating himself more when you blink rapidly, and he sees the mark on your face.

You’re both silent then, as he just stares at what he did, but you smile suddenly, as he stutters. “I… you…I should-”

“Thank you,” you cut him off then. “For a moment sometimes I forget how fucking horrible you are.” As you turn away, you’re slipping your hair to the other side of your face, so that it’s even more apparent. “So they can see you treat humans how you should, right? Beneath you.”

Suguru’s heart pounds in his chest now, you’ve slapped him, he’s said the nastiest things, you’ve both declared hate. He’s slaughtered fucking villages, but something about his hand print on your cheek feels just too far. What’s he become, what’s he doing, why does he care if you’re hurt? Soon you and all of useless humanity will be dead.

Even if he keeps you around, who would you have? You’d be some toy, a pretty prisoner for his pleasure. You’re nothing, nothing, nothing.

Nothing.

You look at him curiously, as you wait for him to signal for the curtain to lift, standing so damn strong and proud, you remind him of his friends, of people he’s loved and lost. Your resilience in the face of everything, it’s stupid but admirable, fuck he’s admiring you, he’s…

He’s caring for you.

He’s desiring you more than anyone.

He’s upset that he just hurt you, more upset than you clearly are, what do you expect from a monster, but this, but coldness, cruelty. He’d shown you no affection aside from a small brush of his lips on your shoulder, a kiss on your clit, those were sexual. He doesn’t show you anything else but his cruelty.

“Are you going to start?” You ask, voice not even shaken, wearing his smack like a badge of honor, not sensing the inner turmoil. “Need to hit the other one, make it even or something?”

“Shut the fuck up.” You blink then, and he grabs your face, thumb brushing over raised skin, he’s too strong, you’re too pathetic and small. “Useless, weak, stupid little human.”

You go to open your mouth when he slams his lips against yours, you exhale at the sensation, yanking back in confusion at how your lips tingle, how your heart hammers in your ears. You panic as you feel it, something far different than anything before.

You can’t.

“I’d rather you hit me than kiss me.”

“I bet you would.” He drags you back to his lips again, stumbling as the onlookers from behind see what’s unfolding, mad passionate and angry kisses, teeth clicking, as you bite his lower lip till you draw blood, and he laughs at you.

“Don’t fucking kiss me.” You watch as he touches the blood on his lips, hearing a low moan that makes no sense.

“You have something, there is cursed energy, there has to be.” You laugh at him then, outright, as he studies you in the dark.

“There are no excuses for you, I’m all human. If you like anything about me, even if it’s just my pussy, I’m human.”

He curses under his breath, as you right yourself, and he aches to…

Goddamit Suguru Geto wants to apologize.

To a human, a monkey, someone beneath him, the cause of all wrong with the goddamn world. You all cause it all.

Right?

But he can’t live with smacking you now, it makes him sick, he wonders what younger him would think, would say. He wonders what Satoru would think, but then, Satoru’s long since given up on him, he’s sure. The havoc he’s brought for the past eight years alone is unforgivable, he wonders… is he going too far? But he can’t make those thoughts tangible, not now.

“You can go to your rooms if you wish.” Is all he says, and you look at him in shock again. “If you don’t… feel well now.”

“Why would you care how I feel? I’m a tool.” As you spit his own words back at him, he can do nothing but agree.

“Then let’s begin.” The curtains lift, and it’s a different Suguru than you know, he’s laughing and joking, and pointing, as he spews the most vile things about humans he can, and you’re just sitting there next to him. The few humans he allows look almost as terrified as you do, as you tremble and try to hold it together.

When it’s finally over, you go to head to your chambers, and he pauses you, a hand on your waist, you look up at him curiously. “I’ll have you tonight.”

“Again?” You whisper, he drags you now, away from your chamber, you blink in confusion as he pulls you further down the halls. Mimiko and Nanako wave at you curiously, and he pats their heads and murmurs a fond good night, before taking you by your wrist once more. “Why your room?”

“Why ask endless questions, human?” You go to protest as you enter his room for the first time, but you can’t speak once he’s got you against the door, barred with his arms. “What exactly are you?”

“I’m a human, Lord Geto.”

“That’s what you call me, huh?” Your jaw locks, when he cups your face, right where he hit you prior, you can still feel the shock, the sting.

“I could call you an emo bitch, but you like to smack for that, and I’d like my jaw intact.” He exhales now, forehead resting against yours, once again, too intimate, too close. “Don’t kiss me again, if I can ask anything.”

“You think you get to ask things from me?” You shake your head. “Hate kissing me, huh?”

“Despise it. More than anything.” His lips are a breath away from yours, when he turns you, having you face the door, hands pressed on the cool wood, and he’s slipping your dress up your hips.

“Spread your thighs.” You keep them together, frustrating him to no end.

Imagine if you wanted him.

If this was your choice.

“Fine, stupid little monkey.” He spreads them for you, finding you soaking wet, clicking sounds as his fingers pump in and out, and your head falls back, as you moan out loud.

“I hate you, Suguru.” You whisper softly, he dies then, at the use of his name, from your perfect lips, shoving two fingers inside you to the knuckle, you’re drooling down his hands, down his sleeves.

“I know you do, it’s what humans do, it’s how you create them. Fuck you’re soaked.” You blink as you register his words, as he turns you again, dropping to his knees, you gasp at the sight.

“I’ll cum without it. You don’t have to.” You whisper, knowing this man’s tongue makes you stupid, him on his knees makes you stupid, you can barely function when he puts a leg on his broad shoulder.

“Do you ever shut the fuck up I wondered? But then I realized, this is the only time you do.” He buries his face against your hot, eager pussy again, and you don’t even try to fight it, your head smacks the wall as his mouth finds you.

“It’s the only time I don’t h-hate you completely…” He chuckles, and you damn near laugh at the insanity, when he presses a kiss on your inner thigh, biting it between his teeth as you’re trembling.

“Mutually beneficial.”

“That’s it. The only reason.”

“Right.” He buries his face against you, moaning as he sucks your clit into his hot mouth, and you’re cumming then and there, pulling on this psycho’s silly locks, as he drinks every bit of cum you produce, dying for you to scream his name.

Insanity.

You’re insanity.

He’s humming as he’s got your little clit in his mouth, looking at you under long lush lashes as you cum so hard you nearly fall, clinging to him barely. He drags you down then, slamming you on the floor and shoving his cock fully in, groaning and kissing you once more, you shove at his chest.

“Fuck me, don’t kiss me, d-don’t.”

“You should taste yourself, stupid little pathetic bitch. How good you taste, what you fucking do.” You glare, but he’s kissing you again, as he fucks you, and it’s overwhelming, the dizziness, how good it is, how perfect he feels. “Prefer me to spit it in your mouth?”

“What!?” He spits then, as he holds your mouth open, chuckling darkly.

“Swallow.”

Why do you obey!?

It’s hard to hate a man who eats pussy and fucks like the god he thinks he is, though you’d never fucking let him know.

Suguru can’t get enough of you after that night, not even fucking close, and soon you’re in a whole cult meeting, and you’re cockwarming him. You hate this - you want to hate it at least- you tell yourself, the fact that you’re casually in his lap in front of hundreds of followers, as he’s spewing hatred, all while being shoved deep in your pussy.

You’re soaking him down to his balls, his thighs, as his veiny cock just pulses inside you, unmoving, and you feel how hot your cheeks are, your ears, trying desperately not to move. Suguru hears someone ask about you then, referring to you as a ‘monkey’ and he glares, before flinging a curse in their direction, cock twitching in your tight entrance.

All of this mind you while he has a goddamn creepy one eyed curse just standing with a morbid grin. This psycho holds a meeting while he’s buried eight inches deep in your cunt, with curses and curse users all around, not missing a single word. You look at him and hate him more, and you still hate him, even when you’re left alone, and he finally moves you up and down him.

“F-fuck… feel you… stupid, pathetic pussy so wet?” You shake your head when he lifts you off and spins you, putting you on top of him. He’s fucking up into you now, grabbing your ass as you cling to him on his plush cushions, and the angle feels so good your eyes roll back, head lolling to the side.

“F-fuck you, Suguru.” He groans at that, at his name, picking you up and slamming him down on his sensitive cock, as you eye the creepy ass curse, mumbling - ‘it’s f-fucking watching’.

Suguru laughs then, not a dark chuckle, it’s… real, as he brushes your hair back and flips you on your back for a moment, studying you with mirth in his eyes. For just one moment, as the curse disintegrates, you think… Is there more to him, is that glimmer a piece of who he used to be?

No, there can’t be.

“A whole room watched you sitting on my cock, but you mind the curse?” He’s… being teasing? You just glare, and he laughs again, enjoying it too much, enjoying you far too much.

He should worry about that, but you look too pretty, especially when he folds you in a mating press, making you suck in a breath, eyes wide on him. “This is how babies are best made, how you'll take my cum.”

You just nod weakly, while he's slamming into you, even though you've taken him many times now, the stretch and how deep he hit were too much to take. Your hands grip his back, nails digging in, and he groans at it, as he folds you under his weight, his full lips parted, eyes boring into yours, watching as you struggle to take him.

“You should beg me, for my cum inside you.”

“Hah- n-never.” He glares, pressing harder on the backs of your thighs, fucking you rougher and rougher, until you’re both shattering messes, and he’s cum so deep you feel him everywhere. You shove at him when he lays atop of you after a moment, your thighs falling to the side, as you try to get yourself together. “Beg you? You’re even more delusional than I thought.”

“You can’t keep lying.” He brushes your hair back, jaw locking as he studies your fucked out face. “You fucking love it, me inside you. Bet you have never felt anything better in your shitty human existence.”

Your teeth clench together. “You’re a conceited, arrogant, psychotic, delusional man.”

“That’s all?” He asks, raising a brow.

“With a good dick, yes, that doesn’t matter. How long till you kill me? Till you kill everyone?” He pauses, watching your perfect breasts heave up and down, as your little hands now push on his chest. “Sure, I enjoy it, what do you care, Suguru?”

“I… you just… why do…” How do you make him stutter, a man like him, a puny little girl like you have him on his knees, have him obsessed, you’re all he can even fucking think of.

You can’t fall into this, into him, with his beautiful face and his sad fucking eyes, you can’t fix this man, there’s no fixing the psychotic nature of him. As badly as you want to, as much as you feel that you keep in, that’s brimming to the surface as you lean up on your elbows, and tears make their way out of your eyes, falling down your cheeks.

Suguru pauses, as you can’t hold it back anymore, as he’s pulling back, out of you, making a mess with all of your fluids, making you feel empty. “What does it matter if I enjoy something when I’ll be dead soon? Will you… kill our baby if it’s human too?”

Suguru scowls now, on his knees, as you hastily cover up, hands shaking. “What the fuck do you mean, powers are genetic-”

“No, you don’t know that. What if one kid has em, one doesn’t huh? Gonna kill one of my kids?” He blinks rapidly, opening his mouth as you stand, and he looks up at you. “You better hope I’m long dead if you do, because I will make sure that’s the last thing you ever do.”

“Will you fucking stop?” He is standing now, grabbing your shoulders, as you shake your head, heart ripping into pieces.

“I can’t feel things for you.” You say, more to yourself than him. “Yes, pathetic monkeys feel things. As you said, too much. We cause them, yeah?”

He gulps now, hands squeezing your shoulders too tightly. “Yes, you cause them, all of it. If not for humanity, then-”

“Then what would you do? If a kid doesn’t have any cursed energy?”

“I wouldn’t kill them.” He whispers, and you laugh without humor.

“No, I can’t believe that. Where’s your line, Suguru Geto? Where does this end for you, for anyone?” He pauses as a human girl destroys him with her looks, when you cup his face for just a moment, making his heart falter. “That Suguru I met, he was sweet. I actually had a crush.” Your words speak to something, he’s transfixed, refusing to believe it.

“You were staring at Gojo.” You shake your head and smile.

“That’s what you saw. Yeah, your friend is something to look at for sure. But no, it was you that day I had eyes on. Felt butterflies.” You can’t believe you’re saying it, that he’s… listening, for just a moment. You sigh. “Do you ever miss him? The guy that you were?”

Yes.

No.

He can’t.

Suguru says nothing as you drop your hands, tugging your robes closed. “Can you summon Sashimi?”

“You named it fucking Sashimi?” You glare, a little back to normal, but he dresses, summoning him for you, as you sigh a bit.

“I’m really sore, okay? Can I go rest?” Suguru scoffs, feigning as if he could care less, when he wants you again, more of you, all of you, like a black hole that’s sucking him in deeper and deeper.

“Can’t handle dick with your puny little body?” He taunts, instead of just… Saying it.

“Not this much. You could get your-”

“I don’t go to anyone.” You blink in surprise, as he confirms what you had assumed a bit from Manami.

“Why?”

Suguru scoffs, rolling his violet eyes. “Why!? I don’t have to explain myself to a pathetic-”

“Yeah, never mind. Come on Sashimi.” You walk off, leaving him to swipe a hand across his face, your scent is all over him, your slick still on his cock, his fingers still taste like you.

“Fuck.” He grumbles, as his room spins, as he’s covered in you, consumed by you, wondering…

Did he miss who he was?

No, surely not. He sets his jaw, you’ve taken so much of his mind, and he has much to do, heading to his room alone, but he can’t focus, all he does is stare at his ceiling, thinking of you, of your words. Your face, your body, your eyes that see right fucking through him.

God, Suguru hates you.

A/N LMAO why did I think I could do anything short? I need four parts now not three my baddd babess lol. But I hope you're enjoying psycho whipped Sugu- the monkey thing should lessen as he gets more pathetic hehe. Tysm for all the comments and love !?! I am excited to see what ya'll think hehe

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trashytracktales · 24 days ago

Note

hey gurlll first thing first id like to say that im IN LOVE with ur fics. not to be dramatic but im seriously on my knees whenever u post bcs how do u write them so GOODD😭😭😭😭 so i have a request hehe🤭 u can totally ignore this. no pressure!

if u would consider this, hear me out. lando and reader are childhood best friends. they are like two peas in a pot but something made them fought (nothing specific, u can write anything!) that had them not talking for almost 6 months which never happens. since they have the same circle of friends, they got invited to a vacation in portugal. the tension between them is like WOW. then one night, when everyone was already asleep, they had another argument maybe make it like an angry confession that leads them to ANGSTY HOT LONGING YEARNING MINDBLOWING SEX but turns out it was one sided where reader kinda disappeared the next morning lol idk u can imagine the rest. OK THANKS LOVE YA💋

Not quite us | LN⁴

🛥 summary ──── A cold winter fight shatters their friendship, but it’s the heat of the Portuguese sun that brings them back together, months later.

🛥 pairing ──── Lando Norris x fem best friend!reader

🛥 rating ──── explicit

🛥 warnings ──── 18+, mature/sexual content, descriptive language, mentions of drinking, angst and emotional tension, arguments, swearing, jealousy, smut, unprotected sex, manhandling, passive-aggressive behavior, pining, emotional miscommunication, past relationship dynamics.

🛥 word count ──── 8.6k

🛥 date ──── Apr. 23, 2025

🛥 a/n ──── Wrote this one straight off the vibes, just went with the flow and let the request guide me here and there. Sometimes the chaos cooks itself, so I hope you guys enjoy it either way ♥︎

IT’S NEW YEAR’S, and Lando would have a lot more fun if he stopped looking across the room every twenty seconds. But he can’t help himself. If someone looked at him right now, it would be so easy to read it in his body language: he is exasperated, beyond frustrated, and maybe a little drunk. His fingers encircle his glass so tightly that his knuckles have turned white, and his jaw clenches every time he sees the way she flinches when her boyfriend talks back to her.

Suddenly, the music gets too loud, the champagne is too warm, and even if he’s trying his damn hardest to pretend otherwise, his night is completely ruined.

She’s sitting on the edge of a sectional couch with her phone clutched in one hand, refusing to look up at her man, her face carefully blank in a way that screams something is wrong. All it takes is a blink of an eye and he walks towards the exit, visibly annoyed, leaving her behind.

Lando frowns while taking another sip of his drink, forcing a smile as one of his friends says something he doesn’t quite register. Still, he nods along anyway. But all he can think about is her. The girl he’s known since he was seven years old. The one who always matched his chaotic energy. The only one who managed to beat him at Mario Kart and made fun of his haircuts and once almost peed herself laughing during a round of mini golf when they were thirteen.

His best friend.

Or at least, she used to be.

It has been different for a while. They only see each other at events now, like birthday parties and New Year’s gatherings. It sucks, but it’s better than not seeing her at all.

It started shifting the day she met her boyfriend — some guy from uni, older than her, quieter, a bit too polished for Lando’s liking. She said he made her feel seen. Lando didn’t say anything then, just nodded, smiled and pretended he wasn’t dying a little inside.

He told himself he was just being protective, but truth is, he never liked the guy. Something about him felt off, and Lando noticed it in the way he was too controlling and dismissive at times. But Lando had no proof, therefore, no real reason to speak up. So, he stayed quiet. Let the distance grow. Let the invites slow. Let her disappear into another life that didn’t include him the way it used to.

There are a few minutes left until midnight, and he’s still watching her. She smoothes her dress with the palm of her hand, breathes slowly a few times, then gets up from the couch, apologizing with a small smile every time she bumps into other people in her path. Then, she disappears down the hallway, shoulders hunched, phone still in her hand. Her head is down, like she’s trying to avoid any potential encounter. At that sight, something in Lando twists and, for a moment, he thinks she’s going after her boyfriend, his body instinctively tensing. But he relaxes when he realizes she’s just turned right instead, stepping out onto the balcony.

Without thinking, he sets his empty glass down and slips away from the crowd, past the streamers and glitter and flickering lights, heading in the same direction she went. It doesn’t surprise him when he finds her deep in thought, typing on her phone then shoving it angrily into her purse.

Her back is facing him, arms folded over the railing now, the cold air nipping at her exposed shoulders. She must be freezing, but she doesn’t seem to mind. She’s also not turning when she hears more steps, then the door closing.

She lets out a breath, but it’s not relief. More like she’s trying not to cry. “Hey, Lan.”

She doesn’t need to turn around to know it’s him. They’ve spent so much time in each other’s company that she’s memorized his footsteps, the sound of his sigh and the hesitation in his voice before he speaks whenever he’s unsure of his words.

Lando pauses a few feet behind her, careful, like he’s afraid she’ll shatter if he’s too loud. “You alright?”

Without waiting for her to answer, Lando just shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over her shoulders from behind. The girl stiffens for a second, then lets his scent settle around her like a familiar comfort.

She knows things that no one knows about him, like the way his laugh changes depending on who he’s with, but the real one, the high-pitched one that sounds like a hyena giving birth, only comes out when he’s with his friends. She can tell when he’s nervous just by the way he starts tapping his fingers against his thigh. She knows he prefers sleeping with the fan on, even during the winter, that he can’t eat spicy food without tearing up, and that he pretends to like certain people just to keep the peace.

Her best friend.

Or at least, he used to be.

“He left,” she finally says, her voice just a whisper.

Lando moves to stand beside her, copying her posture. “What happened?”

“He said he was going home, but I don’t know.”

He blinks, confused. “Midnight’s in, like… five minutes?”

She shrugs, wiping under her eye with a knuckle, trying to be discreet. “Yeah, well. Apparently I was laughing too loud and drinking too much and fooling around. I was embarrassing him. So he left.”

Lando stares at her, stunned. “It’s a party. What the fuck is he expecting you to do? Sit quietly in the corner and sip water?”

Her laugh is short and sad around the edges, “No, but I know he doesn’t like it when I’m loud or hyper or… whatever.”

There’s a long pause in which she reconsiders her behavior, thinking that maybe her boyfriend is right. Meanwhile, Lando tries to find the right words to counter every single lie that asshole has fed her, the annoyance flooding back in. He turns his head to look at her, and her profile knocks the wind out of him. Her eyes are wet and tired, like she’s trying to hold herself together for longer than just tonight.

“Don’t listen to him,” says Lando quietly, playfully bumping his shoulder against hers, “I love your loud laugh.”

She looks over at him then, a warm wave of safety covering her from head to toe, despite the cold that feels like it cuts across the skin of her face. The words settle heavy between them: I love your laugh. Not ‘it’s nice’. Not ‘it suits you’. I love it. It means more than he probably meant it to. Or maybe it means exactly what he’s never had the guts to say out loud. Until now.

Lando swallows before continuing, “I don’t get it,” he says, “You should be with someone who wants to hear you, no matter how loud or hyper you are. Who knows how lucky they are to be in your presence.” She laughs, as if dismissing his words, but Lando insists, “I’m serious. I still don’t understand why you’re with him.”

The girl lets out a shaky breath, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. “He wasn’t always like this.”

“I know.”

Lando’s answer sounds a little too sarcastic and, in response, the silence stretches between them once again. But it’s not empty this time. It’s charged. Heavy with everything they’ve never talked about, and all the months they spent apart.

She turns her eyes back to the view, but her fingers tug his jacket tighter around her body. And then, without looking at him, she speaks again, “No, you don’t. We didn’t talk much lately, so you wouldn’t know.”

Lando wastes no time, “And whose fault is it?”

She shifts her body towards him abruptly, “What is that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs. “Dunno. It was just a question.”

“Right,” she nods once. “I don’t even know why I’m talking to you about it. I guess I just… needed my friend for a minute.”

Lando nods too, and steps close enough that their arms brush. Before she can say anything else, he leans in, uncertain but determined, and wraps his arms around her. Her cheek presses against his shoulder, seeking his comfort. The only problem is that there’s nothing casual about how Lando’s heart starts to race. His arms come around her tightly, holding her like his life depends on it, even though she’s the one that’s been ditched by her boyfriend on New Year’s.

They stay like that for a while, their breaths fogging between them in the cold night air. The space they share gets warmer, which makes her snuggle into his chest. She smells like citrus and champagne and every memory he’s ever tried not to think about too hard when he was missing her.

The girl pulls back slightly, enough that her face is tilted up toward his. And when he reaches to cup her cheek, her skin is smooth beneath his palm, her lips slightly parted like she might say something, but doesn’t. They just stare at each other, the same way you only look at someone when you’ve missed them for too long, and you’re finally close enough to touch but terrified to move any further, thinking that maybe they’re not even real.

The countdown begins in the background, a little muffled through the glass door, people shouting numbers like a slow drumbeat from the inside.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

“Break up with him,” Lando’s voice cuts through the haze, rougher than he intended.

One.

The cheers erupt from every direction. The sky bursts into a sea of light above them, fireworks flaring gold, silver, and pink. The noise is distant, like it’s happening on another planet. They wouldn’t know, because they don’t even look. Instead, her eyes are still searching his, confused and a little broken.

He could lean in and take it all, just this once, and blame it on the alcohol.

But she blinks, breaking the ephemeral magic of the moment. She takes a step back, then another, slow and cautious, until she’s out of his arms. “What?”

Lando doesn’t move. “You deserve better.”

“Lando…”

“No,” he shakes his head. “He treats you like shit,” his voice rises gradually, dipped in more emotion than he probably wants to show, “And I don’t know what’s worse: that you know it or that you allow it.”

She looks at him as if Lando is shapeshifting right before her eyes, and he does it far too quickly for her to have time to process.

“Stop assuming things about me,” she warns, all the warmth between them dissolving in an instant. “You don’t know.”

“I know he should’ve been here, kissing you right now. I know he made you cry instead,” he says, stepping forward, closing the distance that she put between them earlier. “I know he left you at a party alone because you were laughing too loud,” he continues, mockingly. “Do you hear how fucking ridiculous that sounds?”

Her voice is sharper next time she speaks, “You don’t know the full story, Lando. He asked me to go home with him, but—”

“I don’t care,” he interrupts her. “Looks like he ditches you whenever you’re too much for him. And I can bet this isn’t the first time he’s made you cry, is it?”

She scoffs, “Oh, so now you’re paying attention?” she asks, adopting a defensive attitude. “It’s been months since you’ve shown any interest in me.”

Lando flinches like she just slapped him. “You’re the one who stopped showing up. It’s cause you’ve gotten busier. With him, eh?”

“Smooth, Lando,” she fires back in a disappointed voice. “You pulled away first,” she reminds him, pointing a finger at his chest; tears threaten her eyes again, but she blinks rapidly to clear them away.

“Yeah, because I didn’t know where I fit anymore,” he says, his voice cracking around the edge of frustration. “You were always with him. Always defending him. I didn’t want to be that friend who hovered too close or some asshole that oversteps your boundaries. Because, believe me, I was so close to cross a lot of those before deciding to back the fuck up.”

She stares at him, incredulous, as if all the months they have been apart have completely changed her childhood best friend. “So, instead of talking to me, you just ghosted me? Very mature.”

Lando’s jaw tightens before replying, “I needed space.”

“You disappeared,” she corrects him. “You didn’t just take space. You shut me out.”

“That was me respecting your sorry ass relationship.”

“No,” she laughs dryly. “You were trying to make a point.”

Maybe, Lando thinks, looking away. But that’s not the whole truth. It’s painful, not to mention frustrating, to watch someone you care about being treated badly. It may have been selfish on his part, but Lando couldn’t stand by and watch the girl who deserved it all get only a piece of it.

“You don’t like him,” she continues, voice quieter now. “I get that. But instead of saying it, you just judged me from a distance.”

“No, I don’t like him,” he admits. “Matter of fact, I despise the guy. But not just because of who he is. It’s because he changes you.”

Her eyes narrow. “That’s not true.”

Lando laughs, but he’s not amused in the slighlest. “You went from having fun to crying in a matter of minutes. Because of him. How many times has this happened before?”

“He never—” she tries to warn him, before Lando cuts her off again.

“Keep defending him,” he says, irritated. “Because God forbid someone call you out when you’re being steamrolled by someone who doesn’t see your worth.”

“And God forbid you admit that maybe you’re not always right!” she snaps. “You don’t get to parachute in and act like some moral compass. If that’s the case, where the hell have you been all this time?”

The question silences them both. He can’t say too much without saying it all, and she’s waiting for something that won’t get to her. Not yet.

Disappointed, hurt, and extremely tired, she shrugs his jacket off and throws it at his chest. “Happy fucking New Year.”

𝟳 𝗠𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗛𝗦 𝗟𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗥

📍 Somewhere off the Algarve coast, Portugal

AFTER THE HECTIC life she’s lived in the past few months, a weeklong yacht trip along the Portuguese coast is all she needs. Blue water, rosé on deck, and most importantly, no drama.

She says yes before she even checks the guest list, but that shouldn’t be a problem. Everybody in their group knows about the social distancing between her and Lando. Plus, she always checks his calendar, keeping an eye out for the weekends he’s away, racing, meaning she can tag along without stressing that they’re going to bump into each other.

Of course, she still watches his races. Just because they stop talking that doesn’t mean she stopped caring about the dream that Lando has been striving for since childhood. That’s also why she knows that Lando will be in the UK for at least another week, as he mentioned in the post-race interview, which won’t interfere with their little getaway.

By Friday, however, things change drastically. It’s only when she’s already halfway to the marina — after spending the entire afternoon shopping with the girls — that Max texts her.

BTW, just so you’re not surprised… Lando is flying in tonight. I know things aren’t great between you two right now, but he’s still my friend as much as you are, and I didn’t wanna lie or make it weird :D

You okay?

For a moment, everything seems to slow down, including her heartbeat. All the sounds that surrounds her fade into the background, while she tries to steady herself against the sudden rush of emotions.

Is she okay? Well, for the most part yes. But that’s because she haven’t seen Lando in months. There are many ways she can react when they’ll finally be face to face again, and she can’t decide which is worse. But in the end, it doesn’t even matter, because she simply doesn’t have the time to analyze every scenario.

I’ll survive, she texts back.

She will.

She has to.

It gets dark pretty late, but the night is warm, balmy with salt and wine in the air. They decorated the boat’s upper deck with a string of lanterns, their golden glow flickering against the white hull, gently illuminating the space. The music thumps lazily from a speaker somewhere, low enough not to overwhelm the sea’s waves but steady enough to pulse through bare feet on smooth wood.

Someone’s uncorking another bottle of vinho verde, and a few of the girls are still in their swimsuits, legs tucked beneath oversized linen shirts as they lounge across sun-warmed cushions.

She’s also barefoot, her skin kissed pink from the day, a loose skirt swaying at her thighs as she spins around one of the support poles, smiling wide; she decided, hours ago, that she won’t let anything ruin her vacation. It’s the first time in months she’s felt this light, and has no intention to let the feeling be washed away by the waves of a past so distant.

Only when she realizes that she is, in fact, invincible and that nothing can shake her confidence, she hears a familiar laugh, the same one she’ll recognize anywhere. But she doesn’t turn to it immediately. Instead, her body stiffens as fast as if it’s controlled by a remote.

He’s here and, suddenly, the breeze curling in from the sea feels somehow cooler. It’s just a voice, but it’s his, and it sounds so melodic in her ears, even after all this time.

When she finally turns around, all the noise dials down.

Lando’s standing on the deck like he’s never been gone, a duffel thrown over one shoulder, his curls slightly damp from the flight or the heat or the mist. He’s in a loose, black tank top and shorts, his sneakers untied like he didn’t even bother to fix them. He’s already smiling when he sees Max coming to greet him with a drink in hand, sliding easily into hugs and handshakes. Everything is so normal that she almost rushes to the stairs to jump into his arms.

As if he hears her thinking about him, Lando looks up and their eyes catch mid-movement.

The music doesn’t stop. No one freezes. The conversation continues. And yet something just between them shifts, making Lando still for a moment. His smile falters slightly. The duffel slides off his shoulder and drops at his feet. His gaze lingers longer than it should, because he seems genuinely surprised, like he hadn’t expected her to look the way she does — lighter, freer, happier than the last time he saw her.

Like a low-budget movie, they just look at each other for a while and then, barely perceptible, Lando nods once. It is a subtle, tired gesture. Not warm, but not hostile either. More like: I see you. I’ll behave.

And she nods back: I see you too. I’ll try.

That’s all that it is. A small breath of peace in the warzone. Because they both know that this vacation isn’t about them. There are too many people they both love here, too many memories tied up in this group to be so selfish as to ruin everyone’s fun.

With that, Lando disappears below deck with a few of the guys, and the party continues as if nothing happened.

SOMEHOW, THEY’VE MANAGED.

It’s the last night on the boat together, and not once have they really spoken. Just kept on with the civil nods and carefully timed appearances. She took the mornings on the upper deck with a book and her sunglasses pulled low, while he suck to afternoons with Max and Keegan, sunbathing and pretending not to look over when she passed by.

Every time they went out for dinner, they sat at opposite ends of the table, pretending to be invested in conversations that barely held their attention.

When they went to explore the nearby cliffs and hidden beaches, they naturally split into smaller groups, Lando ending up with the boys, as usual, taking the off-road buggy trails that wind through dusty hills, while she tagged along with a few of the girls. They didn’t walk near each other. Didn’t even end up in the same group photo.

But the glances were a constant, and all of them have carried them both here, almost at the end.

There’s a bizzare quiet in the air tonight, the kind that only the sea can create — so deep, violent, and alive at the same time.

After soaking in her own heat for hours, she decides to step out of her cabin for a breath of fresh air.

They’ve ordered seafood for dinner, and her relationship with it is not exactly good. A small breeze brushes across her face, lifting her hair slightly, carrying with it the clean scent of salt. The boat rocks gently beneath her, and the stars above are strewn carelessly across the sky like spilled sugar.

The second she steps into the dark of the corridor and turns toward the small galley, her heart skips a beat. For good reason. Lando’s already there, barefoot and shirtless and deep in thought in the low light, leaning against the railing like he belongs in the night. One of his hands is resting on the cool metal, while the other is wiping the beads of sweat off his forehead.

His head turns when he hears her cat-like steps, eyes catching hers in the dark.

The only sounds are the gentle hush of the waves against the hull, and the occasional creak of the boat. Neither of them says anything, as if they don’t even know how to speak to each other after throwing cutting words at each other, all those months ago. The silence between them doesn’t make them feel awkward. Maybe just a little guarded. However, it’s very depressing, really, not having anything to say to the person who once knew absolutely everything about you.

It would be very easy for her to turn on her heels and walk back into her cabin, avoiding Lando, just like she has done all these days. But then she hears his whispered voice, and his mellow intonation is enough to make the entire planet stop from spinning.

“Everything okay?”

She swallows, caught in the stillness of the night as if she’s a thief. “Yeah,” she whispers back, even though it sounds more like a question than an answer. “Felt a bit sick.”

He nods slowly. “The shrimp?”

“The fucking shrimp,” she agrees.

Lando shrugs. “Ew.”

His reaction triggers a wave of warmth that washes over her, forcing a smile while thinking about the past. The memory flashes rudely uninvited. Still, she weclomes it with nothing but nostalgia in her heart. They were eight, crammed into a bed on a family vacation, and she’d eaten her weight in shrimp and clams at dinner, proudly declaring herself a seafood queen. Hours later, she threw it all up, right there, in bed, all over him. Lando woke up screaming, drenched in the smell of stomach acid, fish and betrayal and, ever since, he couldn’t even stand near a fish without gagging.

Cautious, she edges forward, bracing her arms on the railing only a couple feet apart from him, eyes fixed on the black stretch of sea. The moon paints a silver path across the water, waves shifting like oil under its light. For a few minutes, they just stand there like two ghosts, side by side, watching the view, but probably stuck in different memories.

“So, I’ll go back inside,” she says a little unsure.

His voice cuts through the quiet, “Stay,” says Lando without hesitation.

It’s not just the gentle plea that catches her off guard, but the way he says it. Like he means it more than he means anything else right now. Possibly more than he meant anything else ever.

Awkwardly, she moves forward, letting herself lean closer to him. That’s how she finds out that physical distance means absolutely nothing when it’s the emotional distance that kept them apart. More than that, there are many things left unsaid that fill that void.

Out of sheer curiosity — or plain stupidity, she’s not sure yet — the girl begins to walk uncertainly towards the edge of the space that separates them.

“You remember New Year’s?” she asks, the words coming out softer than she expects.

There is no trace of hatred or resentment behind her voice, which surprises her. She understands that she has, without realizing it, moved beyond their most tensed moment so far. And all that’s left now, besides her curiosity, is the fact that no matter how much time has passed, the two of them still know each other on a level they haven’t reached with anyone else.

Lando doesn’t look at her, but his jaw flexes. “Hard to forget.”

“I threw your jacket at you,” she continues with a small laugh.

“And stormed off like you were in a romcom.”

“To be fair, you were being a dick.”

He chuckles then, and the sound is gentle yet painfully nostalgic. “I probably was.”

“You talked like you knew everything. It was…” she hesitates, fingers tightening slightly on the rail, “A bit cruel. Even if it came from a good place.”

Lado nods. “I know,” he says, “I guess I didn’t know how to talk without sounding like some immature tantrum just because I was missing my friend.”

She glances at him then, studying the curve of his profile in the moonlight. The familiar slope of his perfect sculpted nose. The way his curls fall just a little longer then she remembered. The way he speaks but seems so deeply forgotten in the memory of that winter night.

“I broke up with him the next day,” she admits.

He turns, his eyes searching for hers. “Yeah,” says Lando, “I figured.”

Even though she tries her best, she can’t read his demeanor. He seems tense, even though their conversation isn’t hostile in any way. Not yet, at least. Still, Lando looks as if he’s bracing for some sort of impact that she’s not aware of. There something softer in his expression, though. Something hesitant that encourages her to keep him in that memory.

“I think about it sometimes,” she continues. “That night. All of it.”

He nods again. “Me too. ”

She looks over, eyes wide and cautious, but Lando doesn’t look away.

“But,” he continues, “I won’t apologize for what I said. Because I wasn’t wrong. You do deserve better. And maybe I had no right to say it the way I did, but I’d rather have fought with you than keep watchig you shrink yourself for someone who didn’t even appreciate you.”

His words hit like the waves, tightening her throat. “I get that. But in the moment, it made me feel…” she begins, eyes filling up with tears, “Like you stopped respecting me because of him. And I felt stupid for being so blinded that I lost sight of all the things that were the most important to me.”

The way Lando looks at her now makes her heart sink. Not with pity. Not even with regret. Just a dull ache, like he’s been carrying it with him for months, and he’s too tired to hold it tightly anymore.

“Come on, you know that’s not true,” he says. “I was just irritated and drunk. Watching you disappear like that wasn’t easy, and I didn’t know how to ask you to stay without sounding like a selfish prick. I should’ve just said something,” adds Lando. “Instead of sulking and keeping score and acting like you betrayed me for living your life,” he looks away then, back to the endless sea, eyes half-lidded like the movement of the waves might offer him something easier to face. Anything but this.

He had time to think and weigh his actions. But it all came down to those last few minutes, when it suddenly became too much for both of them.

“I missed you, Lando,” she confesses after a while, letting the words out in a small voice.

The silence that follows is no longer heavy with avoidance, but an intimate warmth that somehow infiltrates under her skin. It merges with all the sadness caused by the time they spent apart and, together, they create a new kind of feeling that she doesn’t yet know how to name. And, for some reason, she’s in no hurry to do so.

Uncertain yet courageous after hearing her admission, Lando’s hand finds hers along the railing and, to his surprise, she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she threads her fingers through his, like she was already waiting for it. For him.

It’s weird, she thinks, how their hands fit together like the end of a sentence that finally makes sense. So she keeps it there, feeling his pulse in her palm like it’s the most normal thing in the world. They can’t look at each other, though. And suddenly, the waves are so much more interesting than the mess they’ve created, their soft undulation bewitching them both, mirroring their feelings in a sick, twisted way; tamed at the surface, yet storming somewhere deeper.

In the chaos of her mind, she can feel the gentle way his thumb brushes the side of her hand. The way he squeezes her afterwards. Like a promise. And she knows, without either of them saying it, that this was always going to happen. That they are inevitable, like gravity pulling them toward the center of each other.

“Are we gonna go back to being cold in the morning?” he finds the strength to ask, voice barely above the hush of the tide.

Truth is, she doesn’t even know what the next few minutes will bring, let alone the next morning.

The girl turns her head slightly, her cheek pressing to his shoulder. “Well, I don’t know how to be your friend nowadays,” she admits, not to make him feel bad, but because that’s the only thing she’s sure of. Her truth.

Lando sighs, “Yeah, that’s not quite us anymore, hm?”

It takes another crushing silence before Lando turns to her completely. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter they can’t be friends anymore, because they’re way past that. Lando is way past that. All he wants is one chance to show her how much it means to him; every word, every touch and every single thought that’s been haunting him for days on end.

He looks like he’s on autopilot when he brings his other hand up to brush her jaw. After his movement, she takes the next step and leans into his touch. She opens her mouth, maybe to say his name, but the words don’t get the chance to get out, because Lando grabs her firmly and pulls her toward him. Hard. Like he can’t take the distance anymore.

His mouth crashes into hers without any warning. It isn’t careful. It isn’t sweet. It’s the result of months of silence, of aching, of watching and wanting and never having. It’s teeth clashing, breath catching, fingers curling so hard into skin that it’ll leave marks.

She gasps into his mouth, as if the ground is crumbling beneath her feet, but at the same time, it’s the most exciting feeling she’s ever felt. Her arms are instinctively wrapping around his shoulders, pulling him closer like she’s been just as consumed by what they didn’t say. Lando fists a hand in her hair, the other gripping her waist tight enough to bruise. He’s all fire, hot and desperate, and there’s not enough water that surrounds them to cool what’s raging in his chest.

He gives her the kind of kiss that says I missed you too and I’m sorry and I never stopped thinking of you all at once. Her hand constricts around his bicep, grounding herself in the feel of him: his salty lips and the way he exhales with a relieved sigh like she’s air after being underwater for far too long. It’s impossible not to feel how much he needed this, because there’s nothing left unsaid in the way he holds her. The truth — his truth — was always there, waiting for the moment they’d both be brave enough to let in.

The kiss deepens before either of them realizes what’s happening. And it’s her who leans in a bit further. That brings him back to the present moment, not because she is just as desperate, but because of how much she means it. How much she wants this. It’s right there, in the way her mouth moves over his, open and urgent, like a need that’s been burning for too long. It makes Lando groan silently when her teeth graze his bottom lip, her tongue flicking against his like a dare. A dare that he answers to, meeting her halfway, teasing, then licking into her mouth with a skilled confidence that makes her head spin.

Oh, he’s a good kisser.

Dizzy from the sudden intensity, she clings to his neck, tilting her head as he takes control, his hands finding their way back to her waist after roaming up and down her body, guiding her back a few steps until her spine presses lightly to the railing. The breeze kisses across her bare legs, her thin nightdress doing nothing to hide the way her body shivers. Or how hard he gets against her. She feels it instantly, like a sharp contrast between his swim trunks and her body, and it sends a jolt of heat right between her thighs.

Her breath hitches once they stop, glancing up at him, caught between amusement and want. “What are you so excited for?”

Lando meets her gaze with an innocent grin twitching at his lips as he shrugs, “Sorry.”

She can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation she finds herself in. Loud. The kind of laugh that throws her head back a little and makes her cover her mouth when she realizes its heat.

Lando just watches her, enchanted by her mere existence. And, without thinking twice, he asks, “How can anyone be embarrassed by that laugh?”

The sudden comment silences both of them. Lando, because he just heard himself saying it out loud. And her, because of how sincere he sounds. How tender.

Still grinning, he lets his forehead fall against hers. They may never encounter such a moment of peace again, so neither of them hesitates to take it where it’s supposed to go to: her tiny cabin. The narrow door clicks shut behind them, and the space is barely big enough for one person, let alone the two of them tangled in something so close it’s hard to tell where tension ends and need begins.

She backs into the bed, and Lando follows, eyes fixed to her like she’s the only girl ever. When they finally collapse onto the mattress, it creaks under their weight. Their knees bump. Shoulders brush. Lando’s arm wraps around her waist in an instant, and she fits there like it’s hers. That grip. Him.

Somehow, he’s bigger than she remembers. Or maybe she’s just never noticed how broad his chest is, how his legs stretch past the foot of her bed, how small her frame feels when she pulls him into her. And now, in the closeness of their embrace, it’s impossible not to feel it.

It intimidates her, but she keeps her hands all over him, warm skin meeting her palms. Her eyes roam without shame, wandering from his abdomen up to his pecs and then stop on his freshly kissed lips. Her fingers trail along his arms, feeling the strength carved into muscle by years of racing and tension. She watches the way goosebumps rise under her touch, and when her hand flattens over his chest, just above his heart, Lando exhales heavily, with a slight shudder.

He doesn’t look away, though. He doesn’t have the heart or enough willpower. He simply looks back at her, eyes burning, as if seeing her underneath him like this is the only normal thing in their messed up lifes.

“I need to know where’s your head at,” he says, his long fingers brushing the outside of her thigh.

She closes her eyes for a moment. Mostly because she finds it hard to pay attention when her childhood friend — the skinny little boy who used to be blown away by the slightest breeze — is now on top of her in the flesh, displaying groups of muscles she’s never seen on his body before, let alone touched.

Her hand stays on his chest, “Am I ever going to get my best friend back?”

His hearts breaks a little, because he realizes that both of them know the implications of her question. The answer, too, but she still wants to hear him saying it, because that’s the only thing that’ll make it true.

Lando’s eyes search hers for a moment too long, and something in him rearrange, the muscle in his jaw tightening before he leans in. “No,” he simply replies.

She figured. Still, it is not necessarily the answer itself that makes her emotional, but the way Lando said it, as if it is torture for him to even admit it.

“I can’t ruin myself over and over again, pretending that what I feel for you is small. It never was.”

She nods, lifting her hand to the back of his neck, threading her fingers into his hair and pulling him down until their lips are barely brushing. Lando’s hands are pulling at her, slowly sliding the straps of her dress down. He takes his time, undressing her like he’s unwrapping a present he’s waited far too long to touch. And when she’s standing there, bare and warm and only for him to see, he sits back to stare and take as many mental pictures as he can.

“You’re…” he starts, voice nearly breaking, “So fucking beautiful.”

She presses closer, hands moving to his shorts with urgency. Lando lets her, barely breathing and, when the last layer falls away, she looks down at him. All of him. His golden skin that glows in the dim light filtering through the porthole, muscles tightening under her hungry touch.

Impatient, his hand slides between her legs while maintaining eye contact, his fingertips brushing over the soft skin at her inner thigh before he presses just lightly against her entrance. The reaction is immediate, a sharp breath followed by a soft whimper that catches in her throat. Her hips instinctively lift toward him, and his own breath wavers at the sound.

“So wet,” he breaks off, almost spiraling from the realization, from finding out just how much she wants him. Just like he wants her.

For a moment, there’s something feral in his gaze, something that won’t let her move her eyes. Like he’s balancing on a tightrope of restraint, and she’s the drop waiting to pull him under.

“It kills me,” he admits. Then he leans in, lips brushing against the shell of her ear, “But you need to be quiet, darling.”

She nods, her breath still uneven, knowing it’s going to be anything but easy.

Lando presses a kiss to her shoulder, then her collarbone before he continues, “Even though I love it when you’re loud, you’ll have to save that for later.”

Just the thought of her, waiting for his next move all warm and wanting, has his cock already pulsing in his palm. He strokes himself slowly, gaze locked on her as she shifts beneath him, spreading wider with a shaky inhale.

As curious as ever, she glances down between them, eyes filled with want, and he watches her bite her lower lip at the sight of him, so hard and ready. The gap between them closes quickly, suspended in that final moment before everything changes. Her fingers curl into the sheets, watching Lando lining himself up, just barely brushing against her clit. Then, he pushes in with a whimper that sounds like it’s been clawing at his throat for months. Like this moment has been sitting just under his skin, waiting to become real.

“Fuck,” he pants, silently. “You feel better than I ever imagined.”

Right now, all her senses are inhibited by him. The weight, the stretch, the warmth, the way his hands frame her hips like she’s the only thing keeping him in check, and she’s the only reason why Lando isn’t unleashing hell yet. Her legs wrap around his waist, holding him close, as if her body already knows what her heart won’t let her say.

Lando. Lando. Lando!

But he shakes his head, his voice going lower than normal, “No, baby, Let me.”

The bed is laughably small, making Lando huff out a frustrated breath, one arm sliding under her thigh as he shifts them both, gripping her firmly to guide her where he needs her. It’s not graceful in any way, but there’s something about the way he manhandles her, lifting, adjusting, controlling the angle until it’s perfect, that makes her head fall back with a gasp.

He exhales through his nose, lips pressing in a thin line to avoid making sounds that could get them both into trouble. “There. That’s it.”

She lets him move her, pliant and trusting, her breath getting heavier when their skin brushes in all the right places. Every thrust is slow at first, drawing soft moans from her mouth that only make him harder. The way her body reacts only fuels him, encouraged by the way her lashes flutter, and the way her hands slide into his hair when she can’t find the words. She couldn’t say it anyway. Can’t give voice to what’s blooming and breaking inside her.

But Lando feels it in the way she moves with him, and how her body opens like it was always meant to. That pushes him to thrust harder, feeling like the entire boat shakes at the force.

“Easy. You’re gonna break the bed,” she says against his jaw, her voice a breathy laugh.

“Wouldn’t be the worst thing I’ve broken over you,” he mutters back, but there’s no malice in his tone, except a dangerous affection that’s always lived under his skin when it came to her.

It makes her curious to know what he means, but just as she’s about to ask, Lando finds that angle where their bodies align like puzzle pieces that should’ve never fit but somehow do. He rocks into her so sweetly, and that’s enough to silence her. The answer is in the way her breath stutters. The way her fingers grip his arms. The way her body pulls him in and clenches around his length like it’s never known anything else.

“Shit. Again, please,” Lando breathes wetly against her skin. “Do that again,” he repeats, already buried to the hilt, grinding against that perfect spot inside her, that once he found it, it’s impossible to stop. “Mhm. Let me make it right.”

“You said you can’t,” she challanges him, barely able to speak. “So stop taking your sweet time, Norris,” she pants, breathless but defiant, smirking even as her thighs tremble around his hips.

Lando lifts his head, curls damp against his forehead, eyes dark with a sudden annoyance. “Yeah? That’s how he’s had you all this time? Quick, in and out, job done?”

Her smirk drops into a scoff, her hands pressing against his chest like she might shove him off. But she arches into him instead, loving the way her back rubs against the mattress with each push.

“If anything, he had the balls to be honest with me.”

“Fuck’s sake,” he thrusts deeper, making her gasp mid-retort. “Stop defending him, will ya?”

The sheets are already half off the bed, twisted and forgotten, heat pulsing like a heartbeat between them. Lando starts moving inside her with a relentless rhythm, as if trying to erase anyone who came before him with every shove. But she won’t give him the silence he craves.

Not anymore.

Her head tilts back, sweat glistening at her collarbone, but her eyes are sharp, ready to catch his reaction. “No wonder you drive like that. Always trying to prove you’re better than the last guy, aren’t you?”

His hips slam forward, hard enough to make her gasp again, fingers bruising against her waist. “That’s rich coming from the girl who settled for someone who didn’t even know how to fuck her, let alone treat her right.”

She bites her lip, not in surrender but to hide the moan that slips out anyway. Her nails dig into his back, dragging down like a punishment until he grunts. “You’re such a coward,” she snaps. “At least he didn’t treat every conversation like a race he had to win.”

All of a sudden, Lando slows his movements, grinding deep, making her eyes roll before he fucks back into her harder than before. Only to make a point. Only to see all the places he takes her to.

“‘Cause he had the habit of abandoning before it even started, isn’t it? How many times did you have to fake it?”

Her eyes snap to his, speechless, but Lando doesn’t blink. He grins at her, knowing he is waiting for an answer he’ll never get.

She kisses him then, hard and angry, pouring all the emotions she never thought Lando, of all people, would ever awaken in her. Then she pushes him, her legs squeezing around his waist, her action emphasizing the duality of the thoughts going through her mind.

“Just so we’re clear. You’re not the first to try and fuck me into forgetting,” she finally replies.

At that, Lando stops for a breath, not from exhaustion but from the way her words claw straight through his big ego. He slams into her again, smiling at her, hand catching her thigh to spread her wider. “But I’m the one who’s going to succeed.”

She’s so close, he can feel it in the way her body aches to keep his cock inside and how her insults start to blend with moans. What amazes him, though, is the strength she has to continue their little argument, as if they’re not in the middle of something else right now.

“Never thought you could be such an asshole, it’s unbelievable.”

Lando doesn’t even blink when he speaks again, “He made you cry on New Year’s,” he growls, voice sharp, like a blade slipping between her ribs. “And I’m the asshole?”

Before she can throw a retort back, he tilts his hips, changing the angle, and drives into her so sudden that it knocks the breath from her lungs. Her back arches, while her hips are lifting to meet every punishing thrust.

“Lando,” she moans his name, arms winding around his shoulders like she’s holding on for dear life.

She can feel him in places she didn’t even know could feel. He’s fucking her with such intensity it turns into a blur of slick skin and strangled whimpers, the bed creaking beneath them.

The banter dies somewhere along the way, and all that’s left behind is the heat, the pounding rhythm, the kind of pleasure that makes thoughts disappear and stars dance behind their eyes. Her brows are scrunched, eyes glazed, and she realizes she’s about to scream. Actually scream.

Luckily, Lando places a hand over her mouth just in time, muffling the broken sounds pouring out of her throat. It takes her by surprise, realizing how well he knows all her signals without ever telling him. But it’s easy for him. Especially when he sees the way her body’s trembling under his weight, and the way her eyes plead and challenge all at once.

He nods, hips pistoning into her, watching her come apart beneath him, a quiet, shaking mess.

“Yeah,” he grunts as quiet as possible through gritted teeth, “That’s it. Just me now.”

The words hang in the sweat-soaked air as she comes around his length, clenching so tight it nearly takes him with her. Lando doesn’t stop moving. Instead, he talks her through it, his voice breathless against her ear.

“That’s my girl, let it all out. So fucking perfect.”

Her nails sink further into his back, riding the aftershocks with his cock still buried deep, stretching her in all the ways she was craving. It brings him right on the edge, and with a frustrated cry, Lando pulls out, the head of his cock flushed and swollen as it rests hot and heavy against her thigh. He lets himself go at the sight, thick ropes spilling messily onto her skin. Sticky. Warm. Heavenly.

“Lan,” she breathes, half a protest, half a moan, reaching up to drag him back on top of her.

Lando can’t resist the pull. Not when her touch unravels him with every glide of her fingers over his skin. He used to dream of it, but the reality is always better. He kisses her again, softer this time, letting the moment stretch before his hand finds the curve of her breast, fingers teasing with just enough pressure to make her arch against him. Patiently, his thumb sweeps over her nipple, circling, pressing, feeling it harden under his touch.

It makes her whimper, her hands fisting in his hair. Lando’s lips find the column of her throat then, biting gently just beneath her jaw. Her sounds light him up like the fireworks they didn’t witness that night. He trails his kisses down to her collarbone, one palm flattening over her stomach before traveling back up.

Somehow, the chaos has slowed, but the heat is still there.

Their bodies are tangled in ways that no one could tell where she starts and where he ends, the mess between them so satisfying. When their eyes meet again, he sees her flushed cheeks, the sheen of sweat on her brow, and her chest heaving. Her eyes are so vulnerable as she looks back at him — her Lando, stripped down and completely wrecked.

And without a single word, he slides back in.

No sharp words, no angry breathing. Just the sound of their pants, the wet glide of his cock moving inside her, the weight of emotion that neither of them dares to name. Every thrust is unhurried this time around, his sweaty forehead resting against hers, like he’s trying to memorize the feel of her walls fluttering around him, the way her thighs lock around his waist with each roll of his hips.

It’s not just sex anymore. Is so much more than that, something that will linger for a quite some time after they part tonight. And they both know it.

When the pressure builds again, it’s different. There’s less fire. More ache. She blinks up at him, and her lips tremble. Tears pool at the corners of her eyes, not from physical pain, but from the overwhelming closeness of it all.

Lando sees it, and kisses them away.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers.

And when he comes again, it’s with a quiet groan right against her lips, buried deep as her body pulls him in, taking every drop of his pleasure and keeping him as if he belongs to her from now on. All of it. All of him.

The silence that surrounds them afterwards feels too full. She lets him stay there, wrapped around her, her fingers idly tracing his back. But her gaze is distant, fixed on the ceiling, already somewhere else.

For now, at least, they can coexist in the same world, breathing each other in until the reality will catch them from behind.

But that’s a problem for tomorrow morning.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ MASTERLIST . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

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dangopango00 · 10 months ago

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GIVE HIM SOME ATTENTION

What does he do when he wants some attention?

BLLK x S/O!GN Reader

Characters: Isagi, Bachira, Chigiri, Kunigami (Pre&Post WC), Gagamaru, Rin, Nanase, Sae, Shidou, Barou, Sendou, Nagi, Reo, Oliver, Otoya, Karasu, Yukimiya, Hiori, Kurona, Zantetsu, Raichi, Aryu, Kiyora, Kaiser, Ness (In that order)

CW: Suggestive as hell in Aiku & Otoya’s parts, A little angsty in Shidou, Reo & Ness parts

A/N: Idk all of them toooooo well but they’re all interesting to me so I’d like to try also I excluded some people who are irrelevant in my mindscape (i'm so sorry) (Nagi is honestly lucky to be here with the flopism he has been displaying smh) Gagamaru my goat ntm on him also added Zantetsu in honor of him finally getting his cover art

HCS UTC

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Yoichi Isagi

I think if he’s craving attention he’d probably be a bit hesitant because it's embarrassing for him to ask (since he likes a lot of attention so he’d be asking all day LOL). In order to save himself the embarrassment he’ll usually just hold your hand and give you a serious look– if he can muster that (sometimes if he’s feeling shy he’ll just put his hand on yours while looking away). Well when he does look at you he thinks he’s giving you a serious look but surely all you see is him giving you puppy eyes.

Meguru Bachira

Oh if he’s craving attention YOU WILL KNOW. He’d probably cling to you as if you were a missing part of his body he was trying to reconnect. He’ll hug your arm or pepper you in kisses and he’ll seem way happier than usual because he’s just so glad to be around you. He’s a bit ridonkulous he might even jump on you, making you both collapse to the floor, or if you’re in a place with a hard floor he’ll instead pull you towards him and squeeze you like a giant teddy bear.

Hyoma Chigiri

He’s a bit tricky honestly. He has a good amount of pride so he doesn’t like to seem too clingy but that doesn’t mean he’ll back down if he feels like he’s being neglected. If he wants attention he’ll try to make you the one who’s embarrassed and craving attention by flirting subtly though incessantly. He’ll wrap his arm around you and lightly ghost his thumb over your skin or even ‘innocently’ kiss your jawline and then just as quickly as he started, he’ll stop and go back to whatever he was doing before so you’re the one asking for attention from him now.

Rensuke Kunigami (PRE Wild Card)

Honestly? Upstanding young man ass dude he’ll probably just start giving you attention until you reciprocate. He’s stubborn too so you know he won’t stop until you give in unless you’re seriously not in the mood for whatever reason. He’ll sneak up behind you and hug you and start kissing up your neck; eventually turn your head so he can kiss you on the lips if you’re willing to indulge him. The kind of guy who’d just lay up in your arms and gently lay you down with him after a long day.

Rensuke Kunigami (POST WC)

Ok I know he SEEMS insanely different but tbh I don’t think he’d change all that much. He’s probably a little bit more socially awkward because for a while all he’s done is train with little social interaction. When he wants attention, I think he’d likely use the same tactic but in a different way. He’d probably nip your neck or shoulder (not painfully; he is trying to be playful) and when it gets your attention, he’d start to pepper you in kisses or lay his head down on your shoulder if it's been a long day.

Gin Gagamaru

I don’t have a great grasp on this guy (despite being one of my goats 🥹) but I think he’d probably have like mannerisms for it like pointing at where he wants to be kissed and kisses you back when you oblige him. He also seems like the kind of guy who’d bring you something from his journeys in the wilderness as like a homemade gift and hopes you’ll give him the attention he seeks in return (you can definitely tell because he just stares at you as you open the gift, hoping you like it and then continues to stare expectantly when you do like it)

Rin Itoshi

Imo if Rin decided to get into a relationship with someone he’d dedicate himself to them just as he does soccer because he wouldn’t want them to be hurt the way he was hurt (someone you love acting coldly towards you) but he doesn’t really know how without cringing. SO his way of asking for attention would be somewhat sweet although awkward. I think he would likely try to do some semi romantic gesture like laying his head on your shoulder/in your lap (although he’s pretty tense) or just making general contact like touching knees or brushing fingers together and will absolutely WHIP his head away if you look at him.

Nijiro Nanase

Nanase is just a guy; another upstanding young man. I think he would probably flatter you if he wanted attention. He’ll probably start talking about the things he likes about you and how much he loves you, giving you a kiss on the cheek along with his praise as well. He is very aware of the fact that you think he’s the cutest thing to hit planet Earth and he will use it to his advantage!! Of course, he means what he says but if saying it out loud will get him covered in kisses he’ll say as much as you want because he’s never gonna run out of things to say.

Sae Itoshi

This guy… Is a real piece of work but, like his brother, I think if he’s willing to get into a relationship then that means he's willing to put in the effort but doesn’t know how, although he respects you a ton. If he’s craving attention I don’t think he’ll even realize it; he’ll just get really irritated when you aren’t around and when you are around he’ll stare you down so hard he could burn a hole through you but the fact that he doesn’t even look angry is what tips you off to what he wants. The look in his eyes isn’t insanely soft but it's not a hard stare either, he looks like he's daydreaming or zoning out tbh.

Ryusei Shidou

If Sae is a piece of work this dude is a whole project. It’s easy to say he’s like Bachira, which he is during the day, but I think it’d be more interesting to talk about him during the night. When the day comes to an end he said he “becomes nothing” so I think it would be the number one time where he craves attention and validation that he exists and you’re really there. It’s a somewhat vulnerable time for him but he plays it off like he’s just his usual clingy self and probably places himself in front of you at any opportunity. Looking down? He’ll lay on your lap. Facing forward? Well here he is in front of you. And by the time it’s finally time for bed he's completely wrapped his body around yours.

Shoei Barou

It’s kind of hard to imagine how he’d show affection in a relationship buttt I think similar to Kunigami, I think he would just give you attention until you give in. However, I think Barou is probably a bit more aggressive about it and he’d probably go up to you and kiss you, then pull away just enough to await your next move. If you take too long to decide though he’ll start kissing around your face: on your nose, your forehead, etc. He’s pretty bold but he is a tiny bit embarrassed/hesitant when it comes to feeling ‘soft’ with you so he’ll kiss you to distract himself from it.

Shuto Sendou

This guy is peak loserboy activity whew he is a huge sucker for being spoiled so he wants attention OFTEN. I think he probably just stands really close to you and complains about how his day was soooooo horrible and how he worked so hard but if being standoffish isn’t working he holds onto your waist for dear life or plops himself on your lap and hugs you, waiting for attention when he gets desperate. If he’s super desperate he’ll start kissing around your neck and complain even more. He even starts to say how betrayed he feels at how easily you’re ignoring his woes.

Seishiro Nagi

He’s pretty efficient in the way he shows he wants attention. Since he’s the spoiled type he’ll usually try to get your attention the normal way first: acting cute and laying his head on your shoulder or on your lap while he plays his game (he is expecting you to play with his hair) but if you don’t he’ll honestly be confused at first because he’s usually given whatever he wants. At first he’ll try to put your hand on his head but if you keep taking it away he’ll make you lay down with him and literally try to immobilize you by putting all his weight on your body; will even pretend to be asleep if you protest.

Reo Mikage

He’s a lot bit codependent so if he’s feeling neglected he’ll do everything he can to get your attention. He’ll usually shower you in gifts and/or take you on a romantic date. He’ll plan out a whole ass day of pampering just because he wants some attention. Please remind him he doesn’t need to do. All that. Because he often feels a bit useless if he doesn’t have time to do that. Not only does he feel useless but he’s somehow convinced himself subconsciously that he doesn’t really deserve your attention if he hasn’t done anything for you.

Oliver Aiku

If he wants attention from you, he’ll give you an insane amount of attention. Unlike Kunigami and Barou, he’s very forward and will text you, showering you with sweet words while he’s on his way to yours and when he gets there, he’s practically already all over you. He’s going on about how much he loves you and how he missed you so much all while kissing you wherever he can reach you. Tbh if he's craving attention, he probably just wants to have sex since he’s not a very clingy guy so he's probably already backing you into a wall and trying to undress you.

Eita Otoya

Honestly his appeal to others is usually him being the “cold but caring” type so, like Aiku, he’d probably text you before getting to yours but it’d be even more bare bones like, “i miss you” or “can I see u” even if he DOES genuinely like you he doesn’t really think deeply about his feelings and impulsively texts you when he wants attention. Unlike Aiku, he is a clingy guy and if he’s really desperate for attention he’ll still escalate it to sex if he can; just slower. Probably wants to lay his face in your chest or lap and makeout.

Tabito Karasu

Oh this smartass. He’s probably similar to Hyoma in the fact that he makes sure it's you who wants his attention by pampering you one minute and acting like nothing happened the next. However he does tend to like smart people so if you’re smart enough to see through his hot-and-cold act he’ll eventually hold you and hide his face in your chest, admitting defeat but he’d still be smiling because either way he wins. He’s already got you and he won't let go until you fill the quota of kisses you owe him.

Kenyu Yukimiya

He’s the type to feel a bit embarrassed about wanting attention at first but will be more forward if you don’t pick up on his subtle hints. His hints include sneaking glances at you or holding your hand whenever he gets the opportunity. He’s honestly pretty charismatic so I think that when being more forward he would probably kiss your hand and help you with anything you may need to get done or finish anything he may need to do so that you can completely focus on each other when there’s nothing left.

Yo Hiori

Honestly craving attention is a somewhat rare occurrence for him so it's a bit embarrassing, especially since you two are used to kinda doing your own thing. Probably gives you little ‘hints’ like starting off by asking if you want to play a game with him as an excuse to get you close to him. Another hint would likely be him invading your bubble whether it be by scooting close to you or hooking his leg over yours a bit or whatever it may be. If you still aren’t getting it he probably says something that tips you off while looking directly at you or glancing at you like, “Do you mind me being clingy?” or something along those lines.

Ranze Kurona

He’s such a sweetie he probably braids your hair if it's long enough (if it’s short he’ll still try a root braid if you want but he’s not very good at it). If not he’ll usually get you both stickers to mess around with, putting some on your face, others on various items and sometimes you put them in random hidden places as a nice surprise when you find them again. Typically this is enough to get the attention he’s looking for, but if you’re teasing him or simply forgot, he’ll lightly nip your shoulder or lightly graze his teeth over your shoulder (Since you two got together you have definitely encouraged him to be comfortable with his teeth around you)

Zantetsu Tsurugi

This guy often tries to be something he’s not so he’d probably try to do a bunch of romantic gestures that aren’t his style. Knowing him he’d probably put together some poems. They aren’t very good but it IS very sweet and he’d keep doing this for a while until the poems start to sound the same and he starts to get frustrated. He’d try learning an instrument, impressing you with his knowledge on a subject you like etc. until eventually he would just force himself to suck it up and ask you for attention outright and just straight up admit how much you mean to him because all these other things are draining and they aren’t him.

Jingo Raichi

He’s another guy who finds it a bit embarrassing to be ‘soft’ so when craving attention he’ll often ‘starve’ himself of it. Usually you’re the one who has to give him attention but if you haven’t for whatever reason then he’ll be angrier than usual that day with his teammates. He’ll probably give up by the time he gets home and just crashes into you grumbling about how his day has been SO unsexy. Probably won’t let you go until he falls asleep tbh and even then he still has a pretty good grip on you.

Jyubei Aryu

When he wants attention Aryu would probably start flaunting his beauty, pushing his hair back, striking poses, modeling clothes for you, whatever stylish thing he can think of– he will do it and then glance over at you to make sure you were paying attention. If that doesn’t work then he’d have you do some stylish things like he might have you try on some clothes he bought you or ask you to style his hair because he is “lacking inspiration” (He actually just knows you like playing with his hair smh)

Jin Kiyora

This dude is a freak, it's a lot bit funny. When he wants attention he probably asks you to watch a movie with him (You’re already suspicious that he didn’t put on Fight Club for the umpteenth time or another action movie). He honestly put it on as background noise and thought it looked boring so he’d probably just tell you to lay down with him and lightly kiss you until you get the picture (Spoil him). Can and WILL turn the movie off and hide the remote if you neglect him smh (He will not enjoy the returned energy next time he wants to watch fight club so for both of your sakes just give him some kisses).

Michael Kaiser

Complicated individual, rightfully so. If he wants attention he’d simply demand it. Bye. He would likely just pull you towards him without any further commentary, he might even look a bit annoyed. If you didn’t know him you’d think he was in a bad mood and upset with you but you know how he gets. However, he’s more clear when it’s been a long day and he’s feeling a bit beat down or unsure of himself. He’d just shove his face into your back or your midsection and let you play with his hair as he conks theee fuck out.

Alexis Ness

Another complicated individual whew. What is up with these codependent purple dudes who found the worst possible person to depend on? Ness has yet to find a relationship where he is properly loved and not essentially abandoned so if he feels like you’re slipping away he’ll panic and do everything in his power to convince you to keep him around. He needs a lot of reassurance tbh and spends a lot of his time in your arms. When he’s craving attention he’ll usually just be sulking around all day like a sad wet cat. Every now and again he turns to look at you wistfully and walks past very slowly like that damn homeless ant. Show him some love he needs it now more than ever ayayayay.

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baepsays · 1 month ago

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I'D GIVE YOU EVERYTHING (I JUST WANT TO SEE YOU WIN) ‧₊˚𓇢𓆸 ⸻ clan head Gojo

CHAPTER TWO: Lady Gojo

𓍯𓂃 pairing⋙ post Shinjuku clan leader Gojo x non-sorcerer reader

𓍯𓂃 description⋙ navigating a married life is hard enough, it is harder when you know nothing about your husband other than his heroic scars and dizzying smile.

𓆰𓆪 cw in this chapter⋙ canon divergence, NSFW, MDNI, clan and jujutsu world politics, arranged marriage, husband Gojo, Gojo with scars, one sided conflict, one sided pining, eventually both sided pining, so much yearning, slow burn, in a sort of eccentric way ngl, suggestive stuff, they are both a little stupid about e/o, misogyny (not by Gojo), dysfunctional families, fem oriented reader, use of she/her pronouns, angst, some fluff, eventually fully, Mr. wife guy (non derogatory), condescending Gojo, this is quite an angsty chapter, lots of unhealed trauma, childhood abuse, physical abuse, mention of food, throwing up, riddled with insecurity, mention of death, blood, he is an idiot.

𓍯𓂃 a/n: art in the header by @/RUEheree on twt. honestly i do not think this is as sad as i am making it to be, lol it could be worse. and maybe it will get worse idk? anyway hope you have fun reading <3

word count: 8.1k

SERIES MASTERLIST ‖ <<PREVIOUS CHAPTER . NEXT CHAPTER>>soon!

People usually have a lot of expectations about the first day after their wedding. Things like sleeping in, making breakfast together, and having sex. Or go on a honeymoon, where you have more sex, to somewhere more scenic.

Unfortunately this was not a very usual marriage that you have stumbled upon. Being the lady of the Gojo clan was huge in and of itself, but when you are married to Gojo Satoru on top of that, the living enigma—it is hard to say if you can exist in the shadows anymore.

It was daunting, to say the least, being the center of everyone’s scrutiny and attention. Entirety of thirty six hours have gone by, with you becoming the new lady Gojo, standing beside Satoru, and trying not to get eclipsed by him. Which is a flawed expression of words when there stood the same amount of distance between you two, as the sun and the moon—you have spent some easier thirty six days in your life compared to these last thirty six hours.

Mere thirty six hours, and you have somehow driven your husband further away from you than the preexisting light years of difference between you two.

All you did was, do as you were told. And yet here you were. Somehow things just do not work out for you even when you do as instructed. Neither do they work out when you try to go against the grain.

There has always been a misfit piece of puzzle handed to you, and when you try to forcibly jam it in, everyone seems to get more mad at you. But what can you do with the hand of cards you were dealt with? You play them. But when those cards do not seem to win you anything, how late are you to back away from these games?

What are you to do when your husband calls you wrong for trying to live up to the expectations of the society, your gender, and your respective families? If only you truly knew the answers to all these questions, which are far bigger in the grand scheme of things, than your head could comprehend.

And now it is a lifetime of fumbling around, until you are yet again able to become translucent enough to be ignored for the rest of time.

You predict that your penchant for wanderlust into the pits of anxiety at this huge table, expanding along with the stretch of the entire room, would be a common occurring theme. Especially with the lack of a husband opposite you on the dining table, and an absence of appetite for the array of delicious food in front of you. Far too much for you to finish by yourself, and far too precious to disappoint the chef; who came up to you and introduced himself to you with the sweetest most welcoming smile that you have been offered by someone in a while.

“I hope you enjoy everything Gojo-san, Gojo-sama specially requested everything to be made to your liking. ” Was all he said before he disappeared back into the kitchen.

So you did your best. To finish as much as you could, at the very least, to try a bite out of everything chef Suzuki prepared, especially for you, apparently with your husband’s special request.

Even though he, himself, was not available to eat a proper meal with you under his roof. He made sure the food was catered to your preference, he most likely got the intel from your mother or someone else, because there was barely anything you could swallow down your throat without almost regurgitating it.

You have spent your life in the confines of your father’s estate trying to mold into a perfectly eligible lady for a clan head to wed off. And that required a very specific diet and taste. Which unfortunately you never really became fond of, nor did you get accustomed to. You distinctly remember how as a child when you threw a tantrum at the dining table, for not wanting to eat the same soup you were chugging down currently, you were left to starve the entire night instead.

The lashes of thin bamboo leaving red marks all over your arms, were still fresh in your memories. And when the sweet grandma who did your laundry, and her grandson, sneaked in some packaged chips for you—you remember how hard you cried for two days and fell ill, not because of the lashes you got as punishment, but because your one and only childhood friend, and his grandmother, the elderly lady who actually treated you like a child, were dismissed and driven out of your clan's estate without a single thought.

You do not want to repeat those mistakes again. One wrong move by you could have someone pay for it with their entire livelihood. Who knows if Gojo Satoru will even spare the chef his life. You have heard how much of a cruel man he is behind his suave facade, and you did not want to unmask that.

But how sure were you that the mask was not already being chipped away at? After the events of last night and this morning, you were not sure about your position in this game, what move to make next. Everything you know about the rules; the rights and wrongs, were all backfiring.

So the wisest thing to do here, is to sit pretty and do as you are told.

The first seven days after the wedding were monotonous to say the least, and somber to say the most. The tour of the estate took about almost three days, and even then you could only explore the entirety of the right wing’s ground floor and some parts in the center, leaving behind at least more than sixty percent of the property unexplored. And you were left too tired and too overwhelmed to finish the rest of it. So you simply told the ladies appointed to show you around, that,

‘I have a lifetime to familiarize myself with the entirety of it.’

Sure the nervous chuckle you gave them before turning on your feet and heading towards the opposite direction, seemed innocent and endearing enough for them to spread the word—that how happy their madame is to be here!

But the truth couldn't be further from that.

To simply put it, it was too frightening. And it felt like you were crossing some sort of imaginary boundary. In these last three days, you've been confined to the right side, and some partial space in the center of the building. And it felt like that's all you've been permitted access to, because that's how it has always been. In fact this was more than what you've been brought up with. Sure, your parental home isn't as vast and huge as your husband's, but even then it was huge in size compared to what you think most normal houses are. And you've only been able to walk through only some of the halls of the place which was meant to be your home.

For a place which you wanted to call your home, it sure never felt like it. Whenever you wandered anywhere other than the library you cherished, your own room, and the gardens, and some other sitting rooms; you were given stern punishments. Eventually the unknown nooks and crannies of your own house became not worth the stinging red lines on the palm of your hands, or the little amount of food that was served to your room.

So naturally, when Satoru carried you in through the main entrance, and walked through the halls to get to your room, you associated that selected path, and area as your newfound boundary. Even the stairs leading to the second story of the mansion was too forbidden of sorts, for you to walk up to.

So part of the reason why you are yet to tour the entire estate was this, and the other part was that you were not ready to stumble into your husband in these halls.

Even if it's your shared property, it's not your home. It's his, it's all his. And how dare you step a foot on something of his without proper permission? You should just be thankful enough to have been given so much, and it'd just be too greedy to ask for more.

So you left your husband to himself, and left him alone with some of the center, the left wing of the mansion, and the entirety of the first floor. In exchange, you gave yourself solace in the gardens surrounding the mansion, and the woods beyond it. So you couldn't dare to step over that line.

Except, maybe, the library.

Books have always been a lovely companion to you, when much of your own words didn't mean anything. So you appreciated all the books scattered across all the shelves in the rooms you did not hesitate to step into. But you wanted to allow yourself some audacity to look for the actual library. The thought of its sheer size and capacity to hold hundreds and thousands of centuries old books, made you want to step over that imaginary line you drew for yourself.

But then, you also have other things to distract you from giving into your desires.

The practice of acclimating with your duties as the now lady of the estate, was much easier than receiving the never ending messages of congratulations, or fighting the urges to cross over the unspoken boundaries that you drew out yourself. It was not as burdensome as you feared it would be, but nonetheless, the duties of the wife of the Gojo Satoru, was sure not easy.

The first few days were spent in awe of everything, even though you were not from someone’s blood lacking in any affluence; but your new residence, surname, and—the living legend of sorts—husband were scintillating to a blinding degree. And any apparent distant giggling teases of a feet sweeping honeymoon, envisioned by the ladies at your reception—was not happening, to their utter dismay.

Yet still you have come to enjoy the mundane tasks. Waking up to an empty bed for a straight week, since your first night with your husband, is compensated for by your ladies in waiting, namely, Mia and Suki . Both of their lively fuss in the morning over dressing you up feels more rejuvenating than any cup of coffee.

It makes you want to look forward to the mornings when you go to bed waiting for Satoru, only for him to slip under the sheets after he has been reassured by the maids that you are deep in slumber. So then he could walk into your room, as discreetly as possible, and get ready to slip under the same sheets as you.

To then only stare at how your eyelashes fall on your cheeks, the curve of your cupid’s bow, the bridge of your nose, and the blemishes on your skin, until he falls asleep himself—to then wake up before you, leaving his side of the bed cold and empty, and so neatly cleaned up. That it looks untouched.

Meeting Ichiji after breakfast, to go over Satoru’s schedule, before your husband’s departure to work, feels much more inviting than having breakfast at an empty table with your husband’s absence.

Discussing breakfast the previous night with chef Suzuki, lunch for yourself and the staff at the estate—as well as discussing what should be packed and sent for the lord of the estate’s lunch. Looking over the needs of each staff member, catering to their meal requirements etc. it was quite a hard job, when done genuinely, but it made you feel closer to each and every member of your new family.

Understanding the accounts of the estate expenditure, making notes of days when the staff are to be paid, fulfilling their requests, corresponding with other clan members etc. surprisingly kept you busy, as you did your best to remain accurate in your calculations. Because these were to then Bypass Satoru's finals checking.

It was a matter of concern for you before, how you will be spending your time usefully, rather than just sitting idly in a pretty attire. Before, you used to spend your days teaching destitute children, until your parents deemed your career as a good pastime that went on long enough, and eventually it was just that you were to focus on your overdue duties—marriage.

And just like that, that little freedom was also snatched away even after much groveling to your parents. So you presumed as much, it was going to be absurd to even ask your husband to continue that vocation—after all if the people of your own blood can confine you within a boundary before wedding you off on your merry way, like some livestock they raised to be butchered—then expecting anything more from a husband of a week and mere convenience, was out of the question.

The hardest possible job was calling your husband during a particular time of the day, to enquire about his preference for each day's dinner. When he would be on his break, you'd call him, but not at a time when he was actually free enough to pick up his phone immediately. But just busy enough to not be actually able to pick up the phone himself.

It took you some time to perfect the right timing. It is exactly two and a half rings, before you could hang up the phone without any guilt. It was long enough that it showed, ‘oh yes she really called.’, but not long enough for your husband to actually pick up the phone and converse with you. Of course it was silly. Why would you call him if you did not even mean to speak to him?

Because that was not the purpose of the call. It was almost another formality. And how dare you ruin all the efforts he has been putting into to ignore you, for an entire week at that? Of course it was nothing enraging enough to make you do petty things, because this was not petty! You just either really wanted to respect his wishes, or that you were too scared to start another conversation with him. And maybe the answer could be an amalgamation of all the aforementioned reasons.

It seems that you would rather go to far fetched lengths than speak to your own husband directly about what he would like for the kitchen to prepare for dinner. Instead, it was easier to call Ichiji with the excuse that Satoru did not pick up, to then have him ask and relay back what should be prepared for dinner.

It was not that it was imperative for you to ask Satoru such tedious things, you were not even sure how this whole thing started. The very first day after you two were wed, and later in the morning when he walked out on you after calling you wrong for trying to abide by your wifely duties, the kitchen asked for your opinion for dinner. And after that nauseating breakfast experience, you did not have the mind to think about food, so you skipped lunch, and so did Satoru, without you at the table he simply dismissed everyone to their own vices and returned to his hiding. You wanted to respect their wishes and give them an answer, but you also did not really have anything on your mind.

Naturally, you told them to just ask Satoru, but since apparently your husband already locked himself in his office in the very opposite end of the estate from you, and had some important people over to congratulate him, no one was brave enough to disrupt him.

But something told them it was acceptable for you to intervene.

“How- how am I supposed to ask him? I, I do not think I should.” You spoke loud enough for the staff to hear, but it was mostly for yourself to hear those words, and know your place.

“We truly think Gojo-sama would not mind if you went in, madam. Well, if you are still so hesitant, why not just call him?” Chef Suzuki suggested for the others to nod along with him. And you did not have the heart to tell them the already sour nature of your relationship with their lord. So you sat down in the nearest sitting room, if you can even call such a massive room, just that. The Gojo estate expanded through truly acres and acres of land, so there were plenty of rooms with the most comfortable couches and chairs, and plenty more telephone to communicate with people in the other areas of the estate.

One ring. Two rings. Two and a half rings. Three rings-

“Hello.”

Oh he picked up. And oh, his voice sounded different. Different from how he speaks with you. It sounded more authoritative. More rough, more distant.

And here you thought only you were subjugated to his apathy and ignorance.

“Hello?” Oh right, you answer someone when they pick up the phone, right.

“Um- hello.” All sound on his end halted. Or maybe it felt like that to him.

“I- I just, I mean- the chef wanted to ask- what would you like for dinner?” Goodness, when did you get so bad at conversing over the phone?

There was a long awkward pause after that question. You were fully expecting him to just scoff at your audacity to even think you could call him to ask such things, and hang up on you. You were expecting dinner to be cancelled altogether. And after skipping lunch, and throwing up everything you had for breakfast, you couldn't afford that.

“Please let the chef know that I'll have whatever you'd like.” His voice sounded softer than how he previously spoke, or maybe it was just that he was trying to not shout at you in front of his guests. Either way, you were grateful. That he did not prolong this call with names of illegible culinary words you could not relay back, and get deemed unsophisticated.

“Alright. Please be at the table by the time it is served.” You did not expect him to have dinner with you. But you still asked, maybe there was some pleading in your voice as well. Or maybe you just did not want to eat alone.

“Of course, sweetheart. And I'm sorry about this morning.”

Oh?

Oh!

He says sorry? The head of the Gojo clan says sorry, to his wife? In front of other people of authority? You've had some wild and confusing interactions with this man since you married him not even barely twenty four hours ago, and this was probably the wildest interaction you've had with a man in your life. A man with such power at that. And you could not, or maybe you did not know how to answer him. So you did the next worst thing to stutter an ok, you hung up on him.

Everyone around you giggled and smiled discreetly, as you scrambled away to the kitchen, offering not needed, but appreciated, help to chef Suzuki.

And when dinner time came, you started setting up that huge table by yourself, dismissing everyone to eat their own meals. Not expecting a husband to accompany you for the meal, you busied yourself with the cutlery and fine china, when a looming figure leaned on the door frame to observe you from a far.

It seems as though Gojo Satoru has developed a weird pension for staring at his wife from afar.

And he has also developed the knack for scaring her by silently coming up to her from behind without any warning. He liked that you shriek and jump when you realize you're not just by yourself anymore. He likes to think that one day you'll jump in joy rather than surprise to see him walk in without any warning.

So you both silently sat yourselves down at the very opposite ends of the dining table, both at the head of each end, and silently ate your dinner. Which was much easier to chow down than the breakfast you had earlier. Which thankfully did not upset your stomach too bad. You did not exchange words, just silently stole glances, and when your eyes would land on his eyes, which would be already trained on you more than half of the time—you’d scurry to finish your meal before him and leave him at an empty table.

Reap what you sow.

Now that is how this entire calling Satoru—or Ichiji to be more exact—thing started. Everyday since then you've never failed to call him, and hung up after that almost third ring, to not allow him the chance to respond; to then ask him through Ichiji, what he'd like for dinner. For lunch, If he was at his home office, he'd eat there. And if he was not home, his lunch would be packed and delivered.

Some sorry it was. Given as a formality, and taken not seriously.

The chef, or the staff, or the ladies appointed to you, never clarified that you did not have to do this entire thing, calling him everyday to just ask about dinner. This was not part of the duties assigned to you, and the kitchen has always cycled through a set of preparation their lord preferred, and it was already an established, much easier, routine. But no one tried to object to the new everyday routine.

Especially when Satoru himself did not mind the new routine. Sure, he'd much appreciate you asking him directly, but he'd have the short end of the bargain either way.

And everyday it was more than enough entertainment for all of them to see their madame struggle to address their master. Satoru was never truly involved in such tasks, much of the responsibilities you take care of now used to fall on poor Ichiji’s shoulders, so the change of pace was much appreciated by everyone. After all, he was too busy being the strongest weapon in jujutsu history to look after everything himself.

So somewhere everyone, including your husband, found your insistence to note down his opinions over such trivial things, too endearing to enlighten you. Though this routine of calls have become quite complicated over the past week. And so you have developed a habit of having lunch with the chef and kitchen staff.

On rare, yet day by day more frequent occasions, like today, instead of the kitchen staff, you would be sitting opposite your husband over lunch.

It was not often you sat down in a room with Satoru without any reason, in fact you can count on one hand how many times you have done that. So waiting for lunch to be served on a comically large dining table, sitting on the very opposite end from him, was new everytime. It was awkward enough to share any meal other than the scheduled dinner with him, that too he always left much earlier than you, thankfully.

Who knows what it was? Was it his engulfing cologne clogging your nose, disabling you from smelling the food served in front of you. Or simply the annoyingly perfect sight of him, so casually eating like it was the most natural thing to do—while you sat there, a nervous wreck. But regardless, you did not seem to have any appetite. Which was apparent enough for everyone, including Satoru to notice that across from the table.

“Is there anything on your plate that you don’t like? I can ask the chef to make you something else.” There was, as if, a genuine concern in his voice. For you, that was simply weird.

“Oh. No, I am fine. I just had a snack earlier.” The poorly told lie was not one to pass Gojo Satoru or his six eyes. But for you he was willing to make an excuse.

“Is that so? I think I am done as well.” It was a risky tactic he was employing, trying to bait you with guilt was low even for him.

“But you’ve barely started!?” “And you barely had any breakfast. I am more than sure if I asked anyone here what fulfilling snack you had, the answer would be underwhelming.” How would he even know what you did or not have for breakfast when he was not even there to begin with?

For a few seconds he sat there assessing if he had pissed you off again. As invigorating as it is to mildly anger you, he would not have that at the cost of your meal. To his relief without any more protest you went back to your plate to take a proper mouthful bite.

If anyone tested Satoru’s patience as you did, as well as avoided him as skillfully as you have; it would have ended up not as kindly as it has been with you. He has been trying to give you space, to let you breathe, and foster a home for yourself, in his house. Unfortunately in those attempts he has made you feel neglected and ignored instead, for someone so perceptive, he sure is clueless.

Because when he tried to give you that space, after that poorly said sorry, he thought by extension it was part of the apology. Which mistranslated to you, as some formality and ignorance. When he was merely trying to make you feel more comfortable, and holding himself back from stepping over any more land mines.

Those said land mines are simply just his unfathomably and rapidly growing feelings for you. His concerns, and worries about your wellbeing. And just thoughts of you randomly hijacking his mind. It takes Suguru one too many times a day to nudge his head, to bring him out of some sort of trance that he goes into when you come into his mind.

But after the first week, he has found himself to enjoy invading your space rather than trying to give you space. It made him ecstatic to hear your voice panic a little when from time to time he would pick up your routinely strategic calls instead of missing them. He does think, even you have to admit for yourself, that two and a half rings are far too few before hanging up on someone. Also he did not appreciate Ichiji asking him what he would like for dinner, instead of you. You made this new habit, you must be the one to ask as well.

“What would you like for the chef to prepare tonight?”

“Hmm?” he looked a little dumbfounded at your sudden question, was it not enough you were infiltrating his mind and now you are reading his thoughts as well? Upon acclimating with the situation, he sees his own and your empty plates. Guess he finished his meal while he was too busy thinking of, again, you.

“I mean, what do you want for dinner?” you ask once again, in hopes of a more clear answer. But god forbid your husband ever gave you a desirable answer to your questions.

“You.”

If someone wanted to learn how to kill someone with a single word, it should be recorded how this exchange happened. The food in your mouth choked in your throat, it had your husband sprint from his own seat to your end of the table, to pat you on the back and hand you a glass of water. After a few minutes and some water later, the food went down the pipe, but the word did not.

“Goodness, I was only joking, sweets.”

He was in fact, not joking.

“Y-you were?” He nodded a very convincing yes, trying not to scare off his already spooked wife.

“It was a very poor attempt at a joke. But I appreciate the effort.” You ended your sentence with a smile that subconsciously made its way to your lips. He does not remember when was the last time you smiled at him, or, for him.

And he chuckled at your honesty. He found it so refreshing and interesting. It is not that no one has ever told him how bad his jokes were, or worse when people laugh at his jokes merely outbid fear. He knows his humor was not to everyone's taste. But he liked that you did not just put him down, maybe out of your still very scared view of him, or maybe out of sympathy. But he appreciated the change of pace where his friends would just shit on him for such jokes, or when people would laugh too loud and too obviously out of fear.

But then again, he was just trying to mask truth with humor.

Which has been a staple for him. The truth is as plain as he said it, he wants you. He wants you carnally maybe, he wants to eat you up. He wants you to chew him up like a gum and spit him out at your convenience.

But more than that, Satoru thinks he also wants you beyond bodily, physical needs. He does not think he even thought about touching you since your first meeting, until he actually touched your skin that night. He saw you in that room, sitting behind that cedar wood table, looking smaller than everyone in that room, despite your status. And he thought—’Great. A meek little mouse instead of a bride.’

But when you actually answered his teasing, and honestly, patronizing question instead of timidly bowing your head in respect, like he expected you to—he saw a dwindling spark in your eyes in that moment, instead of fear and vast pit of emptiness, that he first saw in them when he opened those doors.

And he knew even if there was someone more capable to stand beside him, maybe he would rather stand with you.

He cannot still exactly pinpoint what it is that he craved from you, or if it's just that he simply craves you, but he wants more. He wants more of you, more from you. He wants you just simply to exist around him. Your skin sent waves of heat through his skin when he touched it, it was burning hot compared to his own cold body, you felt so warm and so alive in that moment, and he simply wants more.

He does not think he loves you. Yet. At the very least. He does not think he fell in love with you just as he laid his eyes on you that day, maybe he pities you that much. Maybe it is just like adopting a frail kitten stuck in a storm and giving her a shelter to thrive in. He has thought about that. But he came to the conclusion that he is done playing some hero.

The world has had enough of Gojo Satoru—the strongest, the saviour, and the weapon.

He simply wants to exist, as he wants to exist for someone. He does not want to sacrifice anymore. For once he wants to be selfish. He wants to selfishly live on, and live with someone. And he has chosen that someone to be you.

And if you were just some sympathy case, he doesn't think he would've felt such feelings for you. He truly needs you, more than he wants you. He needs you to want him, he needs you to look at him with the same eyes as you did when you told him off for being late, or when you looked him up through those blurry pupils while being pinned under him.

He truly, earnestly, needs to have you. Most romantically, spiritually, and disrespectfully.

He would rather have you on this table than the spread of a very well prepared meal. But those aren't thoughts that can be easily dumped on his wife, who has schemed up tactful ways to avoid even hearing his voice through the phone.

“Just ask them to prepare what you'd like.” He smiled reassuringly before picking up your plate, as well as his, so quickly, even beating the staff and you to it—and headed straight to the kitchen sink.

To maybe drown himself in the sink after putting away the dirty plates.

It is truly magnificent, how wonderful the garden looks at night.

How the koi pond dims down at night, and the stones and the sand become cold with the dropping temperature. The pine trees rustled and threw their needles all over the ground, as if to deter the sharp wind, to protect their garden from its sharp claws. And it seems like an entire play is happening right outside of your windows.

But you have been more interested in what goes on behind that battle ground. In the little grove of trees, and wild flowers, where the wind seems more forgiving, and the trees feel more comforting.

And it feels like an entirely new world beyond the bridge over the stream, that connects to the lake nestled in the trees. And you've come to find a safety net in that new world of yours.

Particularly sitting down on one of those benches under the cherry blossom trees by the said lake, the one near the bridge seems too out of your reach, so you always opt for the one across it—the only reason why is because your husband seems to like that bench for himself.

Though it takes a bit of a walk from your room on the right side, or even the left wing of the mansion, to go over the only bridge that crosses the stream, which lies as a boundary between the tidy gardens and the unbridled woods—it was easily accessible from the center.

After the first time you did dare to cross that bridge, you did not think of crossing it again. Maybe because you were too busy waiting for your husband to return to bed, or afraid of interrupting Satoru. Either way, you tried your best to not cross that bridge.

The second time you went there, was when you saw Satoru crossing that bridge around twelve AM, when you were just sprawled on the couch in that particular drawing room that looked over the bridge. Not ready to retire to that huge bed by yourself, you followed him there.

And all he did was sit on the bench under the cherry blossom tree, which stood by the lake around twenty five steps away from the bridge.

You did not dare to disturb him, he looked so calm, and at peace. For once, from what you could make out from behind the huge and unkempt hydrangea bushes, his eyes did not look pained.

It is that people often saw Gojo Satoru only with his blindfold on, but you mostly ever saw him without it. So you honestly felt like he was punishing you when he started wearing them around you more often since the first time you two had dinner together. You hadn't seen him for the entirety of that day, the entire morning you spent hunched over the toilet, and the evening you spent by replaying the conversation you had with him over the phone.

‘I’m sorry.’

Is what he said. And you thought, maybe it was just a fluke, what happened that morning. Things will get better. Then to only be greeted with a husband across that long table, with a blindfold covering half of his face. And it felt more punishing than being told that you were wrong.

But from what you made out of what you have seen of his eyes, and those half empty smiles and smirks he threw your way—he was pained. It hurt him, to simply see you, just to be around you. The only place where he roamed around so freely without those obstructions in front of his eyes, for his own good, was his home—and now you've taken that away from him as well.

So then you started to ignore him. After waiting for him in that huge bed, that huge table, those huge rooms—you gave up easily. As easily as he threw a half assed apology for you to latch onto some false hope. You avoided walking into him. You avoided trying to stay up for him, or starving yourself, you avoided his voice, and but you still tried to get a peek of his hidden eyes.

Until you couldn't help but follow him into these woods. And so you sat there looking at him, creeping in the shadows, while the lake’s water reflected beams of light on his face, and made his blue eyes shine a different shade of blue than what it usually reflects. And the scars that dug themselves on his skin, looked deeper than what they usually did. It looked like he was freshly wounded, and the most vulnerable, he could allow himself to be.

You waited there until he got up from his seat and disappeared into the thin air.

And that's how your own routine started. You waited until twelve AM to see if Satoru went into the woods, and waited for about an hour and a half more to check if the lights in your room were turned on from under the door. To then sneak into the woods. Some days he'd be gone, other days he'd still be under that cherry blossom tree.

And if he was not there, you'd make your own way to take a seat under the cherry blossom tree across the lake, other times you'd wait for him to disappear from behind those hydrangea bushes.

Today was one of those days.

You waited, and waited, until it seemed like he had teleported back to your bedroom, to make your way to the bench on the other side. And when you made it there, you found it out to be occupied by your husband himself. So you did what you could do, in a state of panic, you tried your best to silently turn around and walk away without rumbling the bushes or rustling the grass under your feet. To make your escape.

“You're leaving already?” His voice came out smooth and steady as ever. And you stopped in your tracks with your back to his back.

“Come here, sit down.” He simply said, without as much as even turning around from where he sat.

And you could not help but obey. If it was possible, you'd run, run so fast and quick that even his techniques would not be able to track you down. But that is just a delusional imagination.

“I won't repeat.” He said in a heavier tone, but it didn't sound commanding, it was playful if anything. Light and breezy, but sharp. Sharp enough that if you tried to avoid it, it'd cut right through. So despite yourself, you walked over to the bench you've come to love so dearly over the course of the last few weeks, and sat down on the very edge of it. As far away from him as you possibly could sit.

But Satoru couldn't allow that.

It took him a second to lift his left hand off his lap, to lean slightly to your side and drag you towards him by your waist. The ring you put on him the day you married you, shined in the darkness with his swift movements.

And just like that, you were sitting side by side with your husband. Your bare arm touched the soft fabric of the sleeves on his t-shirt, and the rigid muscles under them pushed into your own arm. His left arm loosened around your back, but his hand remained steady and static on your waist. And your lungs stopped working.

“Need help with breathing also?” It was only his taunting tone that gave your lungs the air needed to not pass out then and there.

You did not answer him. You did not wish to entertain him. You've entertained him enough by thinking you could get away with trying to sneak past his eyes, when he had his sight on you from the beginning, all six of them. And yet again you felt like a defeated fool against him.

“You- come here often?” The suppressed giggle in his throat almost spilled over with each word uttered.

“Don’t ask questions that you already know the answers to.” You looked away from him, to face the lake, and the ripples in the water. It's as if even the lake was coming down with a second hand embarrassment, looking at how chaotically it's water started moving.

“Alrightttt, alright. I'll stop.” With a last few giggles, he looked away from your face, and focused his covered eyes on the same cherry blossom tree you were eyeing. The one he usually sits under, looked completely different from the other side.

“I wish they'd bloom soon.” He spoke out loud, it sounded like a passing thought that spilled out unintentionally.

“Do you like cherry blossoms?” You turned your face towards him, his face however, did not turn.

“No. Not really.” “Really?”

“Why? Couldn't you tell that by just looking at me?” he smiled a big toothy grin. That stretched across his face, but even with the blindfold on, you could tell it didn't reach his eyes.

“No. I couldn't. Especially with that thing covering half of your face.” You sure were feeling brave today. Maybe it was the darkness of the night, or the secrecy in the woods, or just the embarrassment of how you ended up here. But words just seemed to flow out of your mouth instead of getting stuck in your throat.

He finally looked towards you, and cranked his neck to look down at your eyes, looking up at him. And he could tell that you knew. That you knew even with his blindfold between your eyes and his, whether he was lying or not. So why bother with it at all right?

He brought his right hand up to his face, to hook his index and middle finger under his blindfold, and dragged it down on his neck.“I don't think I enjoy how quickly they wither away. But I like how they look when they fall. Unihibited and free.”

He looked back over towards the lake. With his eyes free to shine under the moonlight. And there it was, the pain.

“Is that why you have been avoiding me?” you blurted out with furrowed eyebrows and determined eyes.

“I've been- what? Because of the cherry blossoms?” His head whipped towards you as fast as it could without snapping his neck, his left hand tightened around you, and he looked confused.

“No. Because you look like you are in pain whenever you're around me.” Your throat was starting to tighten up.

Suddenly you felt like crying. In fact, your eyes started to well up after every passing moment from when you said your thoughts out loud. This is weird. You don't cry. You never cry. It's been years since you cried. Why are you crying? Is he going to reprimand you for that?

Well, you can't wait here on this bench to find that out. So you haphazardly pulled yourself out of his arms, and made your way back to the mansion.

You couldn't even make it past the fifth step, when Satoru dragged you back towards him. He was still sitting on that bench, except now you stood there between him and the cherry blossom tree, in between his legs. Once again, stuck. His chin rested itself on your stomach, as it fluttered away, his eyes looked so soft and his face looked like it wanted to be caressed. Both of his hands ended up on either side of your hips, as if his legs weren't enough to keep you captured. Even when your protests didn't match his strength.

He patiently waited like that until you stopped protesting, and just looked down at his face, still resting on your stomach, looking up at you, and you gave in trying to shove him off of you by his shoulders. Instead you just let them rest there.

“Would you like to elaborate? Pleaseee?” If you told anyone that Gojo Satoru was whining to you right now, they'd call you insane. And maybe that's what's happening to you.

“No.” You are becoming insane.

“Please.” Other than his many ancient and sought after techniques, his most lethal weapon was his pout. So how could you resist those quivering billowy lips?

“I- You just-”, you stuttered trying to answer him, thinking whether or not you could get away with some excuse or straight up lies. But of course you cannot. He truly is too dangerous.

“You just, always- you look as if you're in so much pain when you're around me.” You sighed, finally voicing it out loud, “Isn’t that why you started wearing these around the house, around me?” You passingly pulled on the blindfold hanging on his neck, to make a point.

Yet again, he was left speechless. It's as if you deploy all his devices useless. You render him to nothing.

How was he supposed to answer you?

That yes, yes you pain him. Your presence simply has become so enthralling that it physically hurts him to hold himself back. To not cross lines he might not be able to come back from. That your claws are creeping deeper in his chest, and he is doing nothing to stop that bleeding.

He has bled to death on a battlefield twice, with no regrets on his mind. But if you were the one to sever him to death—he would gladly take it. And he'd regret that why couldn't he die at your hands an infinite amount of times more. This time around he'd be truly unhappy to leave behind the mortal realm. Because it’d mean leaving you behind with it.

He could not do that. He cannot survive, he simply cannot do anything against you.

And that pains him. Aches him really, to be this close and yet so far away from you.

He hates to make you feel avoided, and neglected, but what is he to do when he doesn't have any control over his thoughts and actions when he's around you?

When your scent simply travels with the wind when you sneak into the woods trying to not alert him, his chest starts tightening up. Your clogged up loose hair in the shower runs a shiver down his spine. When you chew the food on your plate across from him, he wants to leap over the table and pull you into a kiss.

He wants to be the one to show you around the entire estate, and pull you into random little corners and halls, to kiss you helplessly, hidden away from some passing eyes. He wants to be the one to show you the library because he heard from a helper at parent's house that is where you spent most of your days, he wants to buy you all the books you have ever wanted and will ever want.

He'd like to hold you and lull you to sleep, and dig his face in your chest, and just fall asleep listening to your heart beat—to feel your blood flow under his touch, and your skin warm up against him.

And it truly hurts him. It hurts to know you've never known a home.

So he wants to give you that. He wants to hand you all the control over him, and have you pull all the strings from here onwards. He wants you to know that everything to his name is yours, even his name is yours, his mere existence is all yours. Because he wants to give it all up to you.

So it hurts him. It hurts to know that you don't know that.

“I'll take your silence as confirmation then.” His grasp on you easily broke off, maybe he was in a trance again, or maybe it was just the power you already held over him. But to you he was simply found guilty of the accusations that you made. And with no sense of justice, you walked away from him.

And he did not protest.

Because maybe it's too fast. It's too quick. To feel what he is feeling. How was he going to ever even verbalize these things to you? And not sound crazy? Let alone give you a satisfying explanation.

It has been barely a month since he has married you, barely two months since he's known you. Wouldn't it be too sudden to go from essentially neglecting you, to professing his vow of devotion to you?

But it's just that suddenly, Gojo Satoru realized then and there, how deep he is. That there were no excuses left to make. That perhaps it was too sudden, too quick, just as quick as cherry blossoms blooming and withering away in spring—maybe he is falling for you.

No. Scratch that. It's idiotic to even question this at this point. He has uninhibitedly and freely, fallen for you.

NEXT CHAPTER>>soon!

TO FIND MORE OF MY WORKS CLICK HERE.

divider by @/omi-resources. header is from, and watashitachi wa douka shiteiru drama. art in the header by @/RUEheree on twt.

thank you to indie @indiewritesxoxo beloved for proof reading pre edit <3 wouldn't be out today otherwise

i do not think it was that bad, was it? also i am just calling him husband and blah blah by his titles a lot. which if you find annoying womp womp because i am using that as part of the narration, like she will slowly start to see him more than that. and again it is slow burn, so sit with it. i am making bro so emotionally constipated muahahahaha he is gonna be rambling about sighhhh she is so sighhhhh and then be like hmm not like i love her or anything yk. he is just like me frfr

tag list (1): @cheralith @slayzzz @madamechrissy @gojosperms @gojoao @cuntphoric @cuntyji @cuntphoric @aishi-toru @fushitoru @rriwyu @arcanarix @lover-lyn @buckysm @wwwritererm @indiewritesxoxo @shouiow @user25384959574 @dxmnsaera @emyyy007 @ineedbetterhobbies0809 @littlemisswitch67 @dxmnsaera @kazupop @tabalugax @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @thetiredcollegestudent @tokyolhtl @emochosoluvr @moncher-ire @hyunjinspdf @younjunie @em0cleo @novaisbebita @hisarmsaremycocoon @wise-fangirl @sheep-infog @arrozyfrijoles23 @ppejmurde @miizuzu @ricecake-mochi @tushkiiiiiii @ovela @69-gojos-wife-69 @lxxnour @mereniss @theorphicangel @gojosconsort @soupicidesquad +

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selfcarecap · 5 months ago

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Over Each Other [L.H.]

Logan Howlett x female!reader

summary: Logan and you are just friends – you have a boyfriend, after all. But sometimes when you and your boyfriend are arguing, Logan listens and jerks off to it. He knows you two will break up soon, and he’s just finding ways to patiently pass the time until you can be his. Until one night, you’ve fought your final argument with your boyfriend and are in need of some comfort that Logan is more than happy to provide.

warnings: smut 18+ like this is more sexual and less fluffy (or angsty) than the summary sounds tbh (m masturbation, oral sex f receiving, unprotected piv, creampie, Logan calls reader princess, good girl, bub, baby), kinda toxic i mean you read the summary but still a sweet fic, reader is vulnerable so Logan could be seen to be taking advantage of her so don’t read if you don’t like, excuse the dramatic title and a few lines (from Linkin Park’s Over Each Other) because this is also me working through some feelings lmao, this is obviously not at aaalllll a realistic depiction of healing from a break-up lol (although I sincerely believe it would work with Logan..), X-Mansion era

note: not the fic I was expecting to be my first fic in over a month but my heart needed this so here you go <3 i also only proofread once so lmk if there are any atrocious typos lmao | gorgeous dividers by @dollywons

word count: 3.9k oops wth

Logan knows he’s a bad man. He’s killed people, innocent people, committed countless crimes, done more evil things than he can ever remember. But now he knows he’s a bad man because of something entirely different.

Logan shamelessly jerks off to the sound of you and your boyfriend arguing.

He doesn’t even need to use his heightened hearing, that’s how loud you two are. Night after night after night he listens to you arguing, stroking his cock to the rhythm of your voice.

You always have the upper hand — he would never masturbate to your pain or to you being degraded. Your boyfriend is a fucking idiot and you’re not afraid to let him know. Logan is sure he’s not the only one who knows that your relationship will end soon, and he’s fine to give you the time you need. Logan is a patient man these days; he can wait. But he’ll make the wait worth his while.

He gains pleasure from knowing that soon you two will break up, and you’ll be all his.

Logan sees the way you look at him, senses the way your heartbeat speeds up that little bit when he smiles at you, smells a spike in your pheromones when he’s around. And he’s no different when it comes to you.

The more you and your stupid boyfriend argue, the closer you get to breaking up, and the closer Logan gets to his release.

He’s listening to your moans of frustration this evening and imagines turning them into moans of pleasure, imagines licking your pussy until you’ve forgot all about your little boyfriend. Logan’s fist speeds up around his dick, hips moving up to fuck into his hand as he thinks of you and your gorgeous face.

Logan cums with your voice in his head, with the thought of you and your boyfriend finally breaking up, and shoots cum all over his own hand, down his forearm, and over his abs. He jerks off until he’s satisfied, lying in his bed a mess for a second – his hand coated in his cum, his happy trail sticky.

When Logan’s breath slows down, he realises your voice has stopped. You’re not arguing anymore – you must have gone to sleep. Then he hears your voice again, this time much closer.

“Logan?” A quiet knock at his door, “It’s me, you still awake?”

He pulls his sweatpants back in place and reaches for a tissue, only for his hand to land in the empty box. In a panic, Logan takes off the shirt that he’d pushed up over his abs, and uses it to clean himself of his release, using his freshly washed shirt like a rag.

“One second!” He calls out as he rubs the bunched up shirt over his happy trail to get it all off. Logan throws the dirty shirt into the corner of the room, and opens the door shirtless.

His heart drops when he sees the state you’re in, cheeks wet with tears and clinging to a teddy bear Logan once got you.

“Um… we just broke up. Can I come in? I know it’s late…”

Logan ushers you inside before the sentence has fully left your lips. Now he feels a twinge of guilt – he was too busy trying to get off to realise it was a serious argument this time. Maybe he jerks off more to the concept of you and that dumb boyfriend (ex-boyfriend) arguing and how hot you sound putting that guy in his place all confidently, than the actual fight.

As much as it pains him to see you hurt, he has to smile behind your back for a second when he closes the door. But a shiver runs up his spine when you let your guard down once you’re alone with Logan, all teary-eyed and small and sad.

Logan sits you down on his bed as you tell him the full story.

I tried to find my patience…

All we did was talk over each other…

It was all a waste of time…

There was nothing underneath…

I'm so tired of talking over each other…

Logan hugs you while you cling to him, your words barely audible with how you’re smothered against his naked shoulder. He gently rubs your back, and it only makes you hold onto him tighter.

“Shh, shh baby, I’m here for you. It’s gonna be okay.” The pet name just slips out. Logan barely realises what he’s said until you look up at him all doe-eyed, nodding your head frantically.

“I’m okay,” you say, “For now. Thank you for listening.”

“Of course, do you want to stay here for the night?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“‘Course I don’t mind, bub. I like having you here. Even better if it means I can take care of you while you need someone,” Logan says, and watches a soft smile spread on your face.

You sit up to wipe your eyes, only to realise you have no tears left. It’s been an hour since you got here, and you’ve calmed down.

Logan held you, said all the right things, helped you see things clearly. You’re better off without that guy, and you know Logan will be here for you until you’re over him. More importantly, you’re sure he will be there for you beyond that too.

“Here you go,” Logan takes your teddy and gives him a special place on his nightstand, and lets you wrap your arms around him as you settle against his chest. He’s not sure what to do next, but it’s late and he assumes you have no energy to do anything other than sleep.

It surprises him when you speak up a few minutes later, though your voice is quiet.

“He couldn’t even make me cum…”

Logan looks at you and finds a pout on your lips but a glint in your eyes, the warm glow of his bedside lamp making you look like an angel.

He chuckles, “So you’re crying over a man that couldn’t even make his girl feel good?”

You nod your head and smile bashfully.

“When was the last time you were fucked well?”

You look away from Logan as you think, “Uh, I dunno.”

“Hhmm. You didn’t miss it in all that time you were together?”

You turn to your side to lean up on your elbow, more awake again, “Well, I did. But maybe now I can… find someone better.”

You’re looking up right at Logan through your pretty eyelashes, and it’s subtle but so seductive, but he knows you’re too shy to initiate something, especially now when you probably feel guilty for not mourning your relationship more. But Logan is proud of you for realising your worth and ending it. Your ex should be the only one sad right now, not you.

“Of course you will,” Logan tells you, “You’ll find someone who loves you more than that idiot ever could and someone who will fuck you as good as you deserve.”

“Hmm, you think so?”

“I know so, bub.”

You give him a smile and move to lie down on your belly, head resting on your folded up arms. Your scooting around moves the blanket, pulling it off of Logan’s lap, revealing the half-hard bulge under his sweatpants.

Logan pulls the blanket back in place, but he’s not sure if you saw.

“How will I know if I’m being fucked well? If I don’t have a reference…” you play with your hands, not looking at Logan.

“I could always show you,” Logan smiles, patiently waiting for you to gain the confidence to look back into his eyes, and you do.

“Only if you want to. But if I’m interpreting your signals right then..” you nod to his lap with a teasing smile.

“You saw…” Logan rolls his eyes at himself which earns him a sweet laugh from you, “Didn’t want you to think your pain makes me hard, or that I’m taking advantage of you.”

“Do I look like I’m in pain right now?” you giggle, a huge smile on your face, cheeks already getting warm with arousal, “And if you wanted to take advantage I’m sure you wouldn’t have waited for me to bring it up.”

“You sure about this, bub? We have all the time in the world.”

“I want you now, Logan. Been waiting to get the courage to break up with him so I could finally have a chance at being with you.”

“Really?” Logan asks, but you’re busy letting your gaze drift down his body, fixed on his lap now. Logan moves closer, and he takes your face in his hands, chuckling “You still with me, bub?”

You don’t reply. Instead, you push your mouth against his, and it’s the most intense kiss Logan has ever experienced. It’s like Logan can feel himself pulling all the pain from you with his lips, eating your pain alive and swallowing it, never to be seen again.

He doesn’t even have to open his eyes to know that you’re smiling more than you have in weeks. He can feel a new energy radiating off your body. Something is healing in you.

You kiss until you’re both breathless, smiling and horny. Logan’s erection is pressing against your leg, and he can practically smell how wet you are.

“Tell me what you need, baby,” Logan says, heart beating fast from how turned on he is.

You pause for a second, grinning and almost too needy to think, “Tell me what you want to do to me.”

“How about I show you?” Logan lies you on your back, slowly pushing your oversized sleep shirt over your hips, and kissing down your body, down to your knees and over your shins.

“Is this okay? Tell me if you wanna stop.”

“Don’t stop,” you breathe, skin heating up where he touches you to gently pull your knees apart, “Never stop.”

Logan chuckles against your warm skin where he kisses you, from the side of your knee to your upper inner thigh. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you, how long I've needed you.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” It’s hard to talk, but you’re getting the words out somehow, “Could’ve been with you ages ago.”

“Didn’t want to intervene with anything. You needed your time to break up. And I know good things take time, and…” his words die in his throat when his lips move to your panties. They’re soaked with wetness, and Logan inhales you, something between a moan and a whimper leaving his mouth.

“God, baby…” he whispers, settling down between your legs and then lifting them up over his shoulders, “You have no idea how badly I need to eat your pussy right now. Can I?”

You nod, fighting the urge to rip your panties off yourself.

“Use your words, princess.”

“Yes, Logan.. yes, yes.” It’s the only word you can think of right now, with the heat of his mouth so close to your clothed pussy. He smirks at your words and nuzzles his cheek between your legs, leaving your clit throbbing and the spot on your panties growing larger.

You clench around nothing when Logan trails the tip of his tongue up and down your pussy over your panties, your legs squeezing around his head, hands finding his hair.

“You gonna be a good girl for me and stop squirming? I wanna take my time with you, baby.”

You nod and close your eyes for a moment, unsure if you can stop. But then Logan slowly pulls your panties to the side and seems to forget about wanting to take his time himself.

“Such a pretty fucking pussy, baby–” he interrupts his own words by burying his face between your legs, licking his way up from your pussy to the top of your clit and moaning as if it were the best meal he’s ever tasted.

You tighten your hand in his hair to pull him even closer and he obeys your silent command, burying his face in you more, his beard, lips and nose now wet with you. Logan licks into your pussy, tasting you like a man starved, one of his big hands coming up your body to place it over your tit.

“So fucking perfect,” he mumbles more to himself, finger playing with your nipple as his tongue plays with your clit. It’s been so long since you experienced this type of pleasure that you’re close already.

“Logan…” it comes out as a whimper, and he smirks as he lifts his head to look at you.

“Yes, princess?”

“Might not last long..” you say, and it takes everything in you not to push his head down.

“That’s the point, baby,” he smiles, and goes back down. He brings his hands between your legs to spread your pussy lips so that he can get even closer. You feel vulnerable spread open for him like this, but it’s a comfortable vulnerability. Your heart feels content. You know you can trust him. He won’t hurt you.

You’re so wet that you’re almost embarrassed by how loud it sounds when Logan eats your pussy. A pleasure you’ve been missing in your life for a while rushes through your body when Logan begins to suck on your clit, and your back arches off the bed.

You cum with Logan’s name a whisper on your lips, and he doesn’t stop until you’re seeing stars and pushing his head away.

Logan sits up from between your legs with a grin, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and then licking it clean right after.

“You okay?” He smiles, and you realise how hard you’re panting.

“Yeah. I almost forgot what that feels like,” you confess.

“What, cumming?”

You nod with a pout that Logan quickly kisses away, covering your body with his as he hovers over you.

“Trust me, bub, we’ll make you remember all of it. You up for more tonight?”

“Yes,” you reply embarrassingly fast. You’re not sure you could stop if you wanted to, your body pumped full with the happiness hormones you haven’t felt in all too long.

Logan holds himself up over you with one arm, pulling down his pants. You’d tease him about the wet spot of precum on them, but you’re far too horny to think of what to say.

“Good, because you taste so delicious, baby, you’re not getting rid of me between your legs any time soon,” he smirks, leaning down to kiss you as you grin against him. You don’t want him to leave, ever.

His big hand finds your thigh, and he gently pushes a finger in, then two, kissing you and watching your face for any signs of discomfort, but all you’re doing is arching your back for him to push deeper.

“You want it, baby?”

You look down Logan’s body, eyes settling on his hard and wanting cock, the tip glistening with precum, “Mhmm,” you nod frantically, “I want it.”

“Been a while though…” you add hesitantly.

“It’s okay, princess. I’ll be gentle. We’ve got all the time in the world, okay?” He leans his forehead against yours and a smile spreads over your face again.

“Okay.” You lean up to kiss him, both of you getting lost in the way your tongues feel against each other for a few moments.

“Here,” Logan rubs a few messy circles over your pussy, his palm getting slick with your wetness. He wraps a hand around his dick, stroking himself a few times to coat himself in the feeling of you.

“I’m ready,” you tell Logan before he can ask.

“Good girl.”

Logan trails his thumb over your cheek and gives you a chaste kiss, and butterflies erupt in your belly.

“You have no idea how happy I am right now,” he says, and all you can do is look back up at him lovingly.

“You want me to put it in?” he asks, teasingly slapping his cock against your clit a few times. Then, he suddenly pauses.

The warmth of him above you is gone, but he’s not far. He’s leaning over to his bedside table, turning your teddy bear away from you two.

“He doesn’t need to see this,” he says all seriously, and you giggle.

You help him take off your shirt, and you’re bare underneath, and as good as it feels to have Logan distracted by how good your boobs look for a bit, you need him somewhere else.

“Logan?” you ask, and he looks back up at you, a nipple still in his mouth.

“Yes?” he licks a broad stripe over your nipple as he says it, and it comes out muffled.

“Kind of need you somewhere else.”

“Oh, do you, princess?” Logan hovers over you again, leaning on one forearm as his other hand rests on your tit, and he’s smirking down at you, “Where would that be?”

You grin widely, biting your lip as you carefully take his hand off you, and bring it between your legs. You don’t even have to guide him all the way to your pussy before his hand is gone from yours and he’s cupping your wet, warm pussy.

“Here, baby?” he brings two fingers up to his mouth to suck your wetness off them, and you nod as if in a trance.

“Okay, bub, you sure?”

“Yesss, Logan,” you let out a pathetic groan of frustration, your chest vibrating with the sound.

He smirks, bringing his hand, still slick with his spit, to your cheeks and squishing them together, “You’re so adorable when you’re horny, you know that, princess?” You bat his hand away at his teasing, but your grin might be even bigger than his.

Logan finally lifts one of your legs and pushes it up against your chest, rubbing a few lazy circles on your clit before he rubs the tip of his cock through your folds. He’s doing it to tease you, but you see him lose his own composure, expression turning into a frown of neediness.

You share another quick but sloppy kiss during which you take Logan’s cock and rub it against your pussy. He only pulls away from the kiss to finally put the tip inside you.

“God,” he groans at just the first few inches, and you both calm yourself down to make sure this isn’t over immediately.

“I can take it,” you say, wrapping your arms around Logan’s neck.

“You’re my good girl, hm? Gonna take my cock? You sure?”

“Yes, Logan. Need all of it, please.”

“I got you, baby. I’ll give you anything you want.”

Logan slides his cock inside you, inch by inch, and you both moan when he bottoms out.

“You feel good?” He asks, and all you can do is nod. You groan, only at the fact that he’s not moving yet.

“Me too, baby, me too,” he smiles, slowly starting to move, beginning to fuck you. And he was right, he’s fucking you well. Better than anything you’ve ever felt.

He pulls out almost entirely for the first few thrusts, then stuffing you full of his big cock again, your wet pussy pulsing around him, sucking him back in. Your heart beats happily against your chest and he can feel it too; he’s slotted against your body as closely as he can be.

“Such a good girl, taking me so well. You still okay, princess?”

You grin and take his face to kiss him, his hips stilling just as he’s buried inside you as deeply as possible. You make out with him for a few seconds, pussy spasming around his uncontrollably, and you feel Logan squirm and pull out of you a bit because he doesn’t want to cum yet.

“That’s how good I feel,” you smile up at him.

Logan grins, burying his face in your neck to kiss you there as his hips begin to move again. He kisses over your jaw and your cheeks as a hand comes down to rub your clit. Together with his dick inside you, pulsing with warmth and pleasure, you suddenly feel all the energy of your body flowing between your thighs again.

You whimper against Logan’s face, your cheek catching against his.

“You close, baby?”

“Mhhm,” is the only sound you can muster as you cling to Logan, letting him fuck your pussy and play with your clit until you’re almost there.

“Such a good girl for me. Want you to cum for me, alright, princess? Gonna feel so fucking good, yeah?”

Your response is a whimper against his lips as you let go, and pleasure floods your body. Your pussy clenches around Logan’s dick, and while he’s still rubbing your clit, fucking you through your orgasm, he cums.

Logan cums so much you’re not sure where your orgasm ends and his begins, but you know you don’t stop feeling good until he’s drained until the last drop and your pussy is stuffed full with his cum.

You both slow down bit by bit, breathless and grinning at each other, not letting go. When Logan brings his hand back up between your faces, it’s slick with your wetness and covered in his cum, and you take his wrist to guide him towards your face.

You look Logan in the eyes as you suck his and your cum off his fingers, one by one, and Logan kisses you the second you’re done.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he whispers in your ear, slowly pulling out of you and pulling you into his arms when he lies down.

“Thank you,” you respond shyly, unsure what to say. You’re too happy to pay attention to your words.

“I’m always here for you, baby. You know that. And as soon as you’re ready to move on, I’ll take you on the best date of your life, okay?”

You grin, kissing his lips, “Okay. And until then?”

“Until then I’ll eat that pretty pussy of yours every evening, and you can sleep in my bed whenever you don’t feel like being alone. Sound good?”

You wrap your arms around his neck, cuddling against his chest, your heart warm and happy as you feel yourself getting tired, “Sounds good.”

P.S. thank you for reading <3 reblog and let me know what you liked most about this fic for Logan to come and eat your pussy out every night <3

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #deadpool and wolverine #title is a bit misleading bc it’s about reader and her ex and not about Logan but I needed this title for me lol #fem!reader #wolverine smut #logan howlett x you #selfcarecap

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irndad · 9 months ago

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don't date coworkers- s.r.

a/n: i literally wrote this very fast and also i hope you like it pls go easy on me!!! reader has a policy they don't date coworkers. spencer is so angsty abt that !! also sorry for dropping a new fic at 2am LOL wc: 1.7k

She’s really, really good at talking to people.

It’s one of the many traits Spencer adores about her. She moves through crowds with ease, and she can charm her way into any piece of information from whatever city cop they need a favor from. She integrated into the team faster than anyone could’ve expected. This is a strength not all profilers have- they know what it takes to know what makes someone appealing, but rare is the ability to be as charismatic and charming as she is.

She’s good at talking to him.

She’s worked at the BAU for about a year now. 13 months, 7 days and 8 hours since she walked through the doors of the bullpen for the first time, beaming at him for the very first time. Give or take.

Spencer wouldn’t be surprised if everyone knew that he was in love with her. He’s halfway certain she does, and is being too polite to mention it. Normally, Spencer is incredibly regimented about boundaries. While the BAU is his family, and there’s no real way to deny that, he knows that he’s less than ideal to go out with. He’s stocky and he never cuts his hair (even though she swears it’s cute longer) and he’s an awkward guy- gangly and tall and just ill-fitting to be part of the scenery of her life.

It’s a Friday, and a rainy one at that. It’s one of the blessed ones where they don’t really have a case, just paperwork to catch up on, reports and her desk faces a window.

Normally, when Spencer gets his work done (a good four hours before everyone else on a paperwork-only day), he’d head out. Catch up on whatever Russian novel he’s been chipping away at- but she’s here, and he’s made her favorite tea.

“I thought you could use a treat,” he says, walking over to her desk. She looks up at him, brushing overgrown bangs, “It’s not really a great one, but I’ll get you some scones on the way to mine, yeah?”

She looks up at him, dropping her pen and focusing entire energy on him. He feels a bit overwhelmed, like an ant under a magnifying glass.

“Did you know that I adore you, Spence?”

He is very much not aware. No amount of her saying it will ever make him know. She takes a long sip from the mug. He knows how much honey she likes in it. He studies how she looks, eyes closed serenely, completely invested in what he’s given her.

“You’ll be taking her home, pretty boy?” Morgan snickers, in a not altogether unkind manner.

“Fuck off,” she says kindly, not taking her eyes off of Spencer as she rebuffed Morgan’s teasing.

“Easy, easy,” Morgan laughs, “I’ll leave your boyfriend alone.”

If she has anything to say to that, it doesn’t come out then.

He’s still bright red, though. Morgan is amused, and Spencer knows that she really, truly adores Morgan. Spencer loves him too, but it would be nice if he laid off the jokes.

She doesn’t date coworkers.

He knows this because of the first time they’d met, when he’d been walking in carrying a croissant for Garcia and a coffee for JJ, and saw what can only be described as a truly ridiculously beautiful woman in the bullpen.

She’d been leaned back, smiling openly as Morgan tossed some random pick-up line towards her. He remembers it now like he can still hear it, her lilting lovely voice carrying just the right amount of warmth to make this not sting, or at least sting as little as possible.

“I’m sorry, Derek,” she had said, “I make it a point not to date coworkers.”

Which of course is fine. She can date whoever she wants, and it’s a good policy to have personally. And Spencer’s never really be the kind of guy who excelled at getting dates. He knew from the first minute that he saw her that even if she didn’t think that way… well, it wouldn’t be him, who she picked.

Now, they are very close. So close that she drives him home from work every Friday. Which usually includes staying at his shitty apartment and watching VHS tapes of documentaries and Doctor Who.

He wants to kiss her every Friday. All, the time, really. It’s kind of plaguing him. Clearly, she likes hanging out with him. Something about him is appealing. It’s foolish to assume that it’s more than friends, especially for someone like him to be with someone like her.

She doesn’t date coworkers.

“I made sure the film tonight has subtitles!”

“Are you saying film because this film is foreign, Spence?”

“I promise it’s worth it!” He says excitedly, “And they’re really done well. You won’t have to have me whisper the translations to you in real time!”

“I didn’t mind that,” She laughs then, a real laugh, “but I’m glad we’re getting to hang out tonight.”

It’s funny- they’ve done this so, so many times, but he never stops being thrilled.

___________________________________

Sometimes, when the summer air is forgiving enough, they walk home from the office. She takes the train in, and they walk back to his place. Tonight is one of these nights, and god- she looks lovely. She’s tied her blazer around her waist, and the sunset hits her face in that gorgeous baroque painting kind of way.

“You’re very pretty,” he hears himself say before he can stop it. He’s endlessly pleased when she preens at the praise.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Doctor,” she says, shoving her hands into her pockets, a nervous gesture. He wants to hold those hand, intertwine her lovely delicate fingers with his bony wispy fingers.

“You’re being nice to me,” he says, looking down at his shoes. They’re stupid. He should wear loafers, or some other shoe that doesn’t make him like half-child half-geek.

“I’m being accurate, actually,” she says she bumps his shoulder.

She’d be a wonderful girlfriend. He lives in the world this can happen quite often, in his fantasy. She laughs at his jokes and tells him he’s kind, and good, and she means it. He’s lucky to have this much of her- more than anyone else on the team! Spencer knows he’s her favorite. The way she’s looking at him now, how she give-up her Fridays to spend with him, on his ratty couch, how she always listens. Whenever they're both on the jet and he falls asleep, he always wakes up with a blanket on him. She's so good at loving people.

Being her favorite on the team does not mean he’s in the running to be a boyfriend. But he’d fucking want to be. He’d be a good boyfriend. Spencer, he’s gone so far for her. He fantasizes about getting her flowers that have symbolic meaning.

“Are you okay, boy-genius?”

“I’m better than okay. Do you want popcorn?”

She wants popcorn. He sets the movie up, and she gets comfortable on his couch, curling up with his purple felt blanket, and his mind betrays him with unhelpful images of what it might look like if she was his, if this is what he came home to.

Don't picture welcome home kisses, or movie nights or being wanted. Don't.

It’s very, very hard to focus on the movie.

She’s touchy, with him. He’s not sure if it’s because she could never see him as her boyfriend, but he’s grateful as she leans her head on his. She smells like peonies. When the credits roll, they stay like that for minute- her head on his shoulder and one of her legs thrown over his.

He wonders, not for the first time, if she feels the same way about him. If things were just..different, then they’d be kissing under the haze of his TV right now, if he’d know what that chapstick she carries with her every day tastes like.

“Do you ever wonder what it’d be like if we met under different circumstances?” he says, once time passes and he speaks instead of thinking.

“Hmm?” She hummed, relaxed eyes flitting their gaze over to him.

“Like, at a bar or something.”

“But you hate bars.”

“That’s why I said or something!”

Her lip juts out adorably, “But then I wouldn’t get to see you in your element.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, resting his neck on the top of the cushion. The AC is a little too much in the room. He wonders if she’s cold. “But who knows. Maybe we’d date, or something.”

It’s the dumbest thing he’s ever fucking said. Both because it was a dumb way to say it, but because it was an advance. He feels white hot shame lick at his spine when he looks at her, and hears her laugh.

“I don’t think so, Spence.”

“No,” shitshitshit, “I didn’t mean-“

“I mean, if you don’t want to date me now, I don’t think meeting at like, Whole Foods would’ve been the difference maker.”

It’s then he hears it- the piece he couldn’t place in her voice, when she gets like this. It’s being resigned.

“What are you talking about?”

“C’mon, Spence,” she says, another bitter chuckle coming through, “You know how I feel. I haven’t exactly beens subtle.”

“But you don’t date coworkers. You have a rule.”

She looks at him with no recognition of what he’s saying.

“No, because you told Morgan that, it’s the first thing I ever heard you say.”

“Yeah, but-“

“And yes, okay, you’ve been my favorite person almost as long as I’ve known you and yes, I would fucking love for you to be my girlfriend, but that was your rule!”

“You want me to be your girlfriend?”

“Obviously!”

He doesn’t get the chance to say anything else before, well- before she’s kissing him. More aggressive than that, really. Crawled onto his lap, arms around his neck, and where she leads Spencer is all too happy to follow. His body is not great at moving on instinct, but his whole nervous system feels alive- the weight of her in his lap, the feel of her waist under his fingers, the way he’s allowed this. It feels like such a pleasure, hedonistic in a way he’s never, ever been allowed to experience.

“You had a rule,” he says dumbly when she pulls away. His lips are wet. He’d like to go back to kissing, thank you very much.

“You’re the exception, to every rule, Spencer.”

When he kisses her again (which he’s allowed to do now, holy fuck) Spencer decides he’s going to spend the rest of all time earning that status.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader

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prlssprfctn · 1 month ago

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Pit Maddness but instead of it being an excuse for all the wrong Jason does (which is nothing because he has done nothing wrong) it's instead just a guy in his head who is happy to have a new friend so he's here to hype Jason up with everything and anything.

The Lazarus Pit being used primarily by Ra's, it gets boring. He's an old man that likes to stay in his palace all day and the Pit needs *enrichment*. So when this kid who gets tossed into his waters, he is ready to become his ride or die, and that's what theater kid Jason needs. And being years and years old, he's got ideas of his own to help him out.

Jason: My perfectly mentally stable family seems to be hallucinating me since I've died. I'm going to haunt them.

Pit: You should recreate the buildup to your death by calling them from a random warehouse that is rigged to explode and each time they are too late to save you.

Jason adding that to his list of ways to psychologically torture his family plus the physical toll of them dealing with Red Hood while grinning happily.

It's Fathers' Day but Jason and Bruce got into an argument the night before.

Jason: He has plenty of children who will celebrate with him. I don't need to be there.

Pit: Find one of his exes and celebrate with them. I'd either go with Harvey or Minhkhoa. They'd love to rub it in his face.

Jason running to his car because that's a perfect idea. They can be a part of his growing cast of parental figures (-Bruce).

This is why Ra's said that Jason was a curse upon this world. A menace with an eternal supporter.

-🐳

I AM GIGGLING—

Jason reassures everyone that post Lazarus effects are annoying sometimes, and Bats just assume that it is about rage and pain, and whatever angsty stuff their paranoid brain come up with. except, Jason just means that Lazarus is always yapping. the worst part? Jason loves their ideas. it is his personal little enabler.

that being said, i remember someone on Twitter (i think) saying that Lady Bird car scene is Batman and Robins, thus:

Bruce: *criticizing Red Hood's ways to work while they are riding back home in the Batmobile*

Pit: open the front door and jump off the car. he would never recover and repeat the same mistake.

Jason: lol. yeah. thanks for idea!

Bruce: that's why we—

Jason: *jumps off the car, while it is on the high-speed*

Bruce: *high-pitched yell*

also, Pit encouraging Jason to spend time with Bruce's exes that haunt him for ages? absolutely. not to mention that it briefly witnessed Ghostbat's shenanigans while they were in the League, so—

Jason, sitting on the debrief, feeling particularly angsty because Bruce literally ignores his existence in the room, in his thoughts: god, i wish i found a way to ignore him back, you know

Pit: just call Ghost-maker.

Jason:

Jason: fuck, yeah

*on the other side of city*

Ghostmaker, staring at Jason's message with "wanna annoy B? come and pick me up from the cave":

Ghostmaker, wiping fake tears: Bruce was right. being a part of family means the world on good days.

#— lie answering #jason todd #red hood #batman #dcu #dcu comics #dc universe #batfamily #bruce wayne #batfam #ghostmaker #minhkhoa khan

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senascoop · 5 months ago

Text

SENA’S FAVOURITES ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 TAG GAME

Ꮺ by @iovestuck and I might've added-edited some questions to my liking. all of these answers are genuine and not with the bias of some of them being my moots. also, extremely sorry if I didn't add you on here. most of them are nsfw so... minors please do not interact. (💌)

001. WHAT ARE YOUR FAVOURITE FANFICS?

HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER — @i2sunric

i already yapped a lot when I first read her fic but this was personally really really cute to read and I loved heeseung’s and the reader’s bickering a lot.

THE PERFECT COPY — @florestalio

if this fanfic was a person I'd date them lol. this was something new and easily secured a seat in my favs.

STILL INTO YOU — @i2sunric

another one of casey’s work that I love a lot.

COULD I BE MORE OBVIOUS? — @rkvriki

this was written like a year ago and is still really good. especially the way it actually captured the “rich ceo husband” vibes.

BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM — @heechwe

what were you thinking when you wrote that lexi? i couldn't find a single bad thing about the fic when i first read it and ngl it still remains as one of my fav.

FIXED COMFORT — @paarksunghoon

coming back to read this after a bad day and this never fails to bring a smile on my face even if I've already re-read this a lot of times.

002. FANFICS YOU'VE READ RECENTLY?

haven't read much lately but this has to be my list — heehoon jerking off together while thinking of the reader. part one, part two not sure if there's more parts, sharing = caring , and then this mind-blowing fic by casey, heavenly , i personally found this one cute, and then I've read this smtg about toxic situationship heeseung, then this one from mochiwonz which made me laugh, this from yuvany, reader is mean in this one but it's good, little lamb ... I have more but I can't exactly add all of them here—so if you're looking for fic recs, you should check @senascoooop

003. WHAT FANFICS DO YOU THINK SHOULD GET MORE RECOGNITION?

PUPPY ANTICS — @florestalio

I always re-read this because well... no reason-just the descriptions and the scene (though I hate angel for cutting it short...)

YOU’RE LOSING ME — @i2sunric

y'all are missing out on a lot of good stuff if you haven't read this angsty angst fic.

CORPSE BRIDE — @yuvany

start to end-just perfection.

BEWITCHED — @p4ranormaluv

to describe this fic in one word would be #wtfdidijustread? In a good way ofc. this deserves way more notes than it has right now.

TIL DEATH DO US PART — sena

TIED UP IN YOU — sena

self promo lol but I actually like these two of my works and they might as well be my best ones till now.

HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN 10 DAYS — @flwrstqr

a really fun fic to read, especially with the way both the reader and heeseung’s goal was definitely not to fall in love... but the two anyways did so.

VENOM — @gyuuberryy

the tension in this one and half way transformation of jay was just wowwww.

HORROR — @starryjake

the smut was rather really... cute alongside the ending...

666 — @simpjaes

a big fan of dark fics. and this was absolutely flawless!!

Not really a fanfic but rather sfw niki audio by @vanesycho part one, part two, part three, part four. I usually listen to these when I'm feeling down or can't fall asleep.

004. FAVOURITE AUTHORS?

all of my moots ofc lol but other than that ,

@i2sunric — all of her fics are hits and i personally really really really love them.

@florestalio — first found out about her through the fic “human or not” and I liked it from the go. and nevertheless-even if it's been a little time, I think we match the freak nonetheless.

@yuvany — she was in my favs the second i read corpse bride. then there's miss ugly duckling and her recent jay fic... absolutely amazing.

@p4ranormaluv — do I even need to have a reason for her to be here? she's really talented with the way she writes. Though I hope she's enjoying her break <3

@heechwe — every time you think someone can't get more sweet... lexi replies. even her fics are chefs kiss.

@gyuuberryy — she's my hype girl (ofc I'll add her on here and also bcz her fics are a big mwahh)

@mochiwonz — we aren't moots or anything but her works (smaus) randomly came in my for you page and i actually enjoyed a lot of them (so I'm adding her here too)

@paarksunghoon — every time a hard thought of hers comes into my for you-i know my evening's not gonna be so boring. y’all should read her fixed comfort and you plus me fic. 100% recommended.

@starryjake — another author who's also really good at making hard thoughts and fics :)

005. WHICH AUTHOR/READER DO YOU ADMIRE/ADORE THE MOST AND WHY?

all of my readers and moots ^^

but aside from them, i admire casey (i2sunric) & jazmine (p4ranormaluv) a lot and sort of started to write after reading their works <3

now I adore a lot of authors and readers but angel (florestalio) and ady (gyuuberry) have a special place in my heart. and I've actually gotten used to seeing some frequent readers which I absolutely notice and adore but the loud ones so far would be @zyvlxqht @flowerwinds (thank you so much for showing nothing other than love to me and my works) 🫶🏻💗

NOTE FROM SENA , i don't really read a lot which might explain why I don't have some more popular fics or authors in the recs. I'm also very sorry if I've forgotten someone (totally not intentional) this was really fun to make...thank you rain (iovestuck) you're another sweetie I found on blr :)

ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 tagging anyone who wants to join

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monzabee · 1 month ago

Text

soft mornings, stolen time - cl16

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where you and Charles find a nice way to spend a rainy morning.

Pairing: charles leclerc x reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: absolute fluff, kissing, talks about work, kinda angsty kinda not

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! after all the fics i’ve recently put out making charles a borderline asshole, i’m here to redeem myself lol. i honestly just wanted to have something sweet and kinda something that would have tooth rotting fluff, and i think this might be it. it has been a while since i wrote something happy for charles and let me say, it feels good to be home. i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

You hear his voice before you even open your eyes, pleading you to stay in bed. And if there is one thing about Charles, it is that he can get extremely convincing when he needs to be. You try your best to shield yourself from the rays of sunshine that escape from the gaps between the curtains of your bedroom, mostly due to the fact that neither of you were exactly careful about closing them last night. The warm sunshine feels nice on your skin, cosy even, but it’s most definitely not a nice feeling when it somehow gets to your eyes.

“Just five more minutes,” Charles murmurs, his hand brushing lightly up your arm, and eventually on your cheek. His touch is gentle, familiar, and somehow it feels like the world outside can wait a little longer, and it manages to convince you for a moment that you probably don’t have to be at work today. They can manage without you for one day, right?

“You know I can’t stay,” you whisper, though there’s hesitation in your voice. It’s a ritual now, this tug-of-war between staying in the calm of his arms and stepping into the real life that waits for you behind your bedroom doors. You both agree that Charles’ job keeps him away far too often, and these mornings together are precious — rare and even fleeting. It's as if time moves differently when he's home, slower somehow, and yet it slips away far too quickly.

“Just today, this once” he pleads softly, his voice filled with a quiet urgency. “Stay with me. Work can wait.” You can feel him trying to draw you back into the cocoon of warmth, into the world where nothing else matters except the two of you. He has a secret weapon on his side, too. You hear the pitter patter of your puppy outside the door as he presses indulgent kisses across your skin, some around the marks he left, not too carefully, last night.

You sigh, torn between the logic of your responsibilities and the temptation of one more lazy morning wrapped in his arms. “You always do this,” you tease lightly, turning slightly to face him, your eyes finally opening to meet his. His face is soft with sleep, his hair a little tousled from the night. There’s something boyish about him in this light, something that reminds you of the earlier days, when time felt abundant and mornings like this were just beginning to be the norm.

“And you always give in, eventually,” he replies, a lazy grin spreading across his face as he pulls you closer, as if to emphasize his point. His arms wrap around you, and for a moment, you let yourself be cocooned in his warmth. You know you shouldn’t, but there’s something about the way he looks at you that makes it hard to resist.

“I’ll take off the morning and go in late,” you finally say, giving him a half-hearted warning look. “But just this once.” The words sound hollow, even to you, because deep down, you know he’ll convince you to stay longer than you intend. He always does.

Charles' grin widens, as he pulls you even closer in victory, pressing a kiss to your forehead in silent thanks. You can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, his arms around you, and for a brief moment, the world outside seems so distant, almost irrelevant. “Just this once, huh?” he murmurs, his voice a teasing whisper, knowing full well that you’ve said this before. But it doesn’t matter, the only thing that matters is that he made his way back to you, to home, and now that you are together. Outside the door, you hear Leo scratch lightly at the wood, eager to join in on this peaceful scene. Charles chuckles softly, his hand sliding to your lower back. “Seems like someone else is trying to convince you to stay too."

You laugh quietly, the sound escaping before you can stop it. “He’s persistent,” you admit. “Wonder where he gets that from?”

Charles smirks, but doesn’t respond, instead letting his hand drift back up to your cheek. “I’ll make it worth your while,” he says with a wink, leaning in closer, his lips brushing lightly against yours. It’s a promise he’s made countless times before, and one he’s always followed through on.

“Mhm,” you mumble, “I know you will.” The kiss lingers longer than you expect, warm and familiar. Leo scratches at the door again, more insistent this time, as if the little puppy knows he’s missing out on something important. You break the kiss with a soft laugh, pulling away just enough to look at Charles. “We can’t ignore him forever.”

Charles groans dramatically but lets you go, flopping back onto the pillows with a sigh. “I was really hoping we could. Just a few more minutes of pretending it’s only us.”

You smile and stand up, wriggling out of his arms in despite of his complain, padding across the room to open the door. Leo bursts in with all the energy his small body can muster, his tail wagging furiously as he runs inside, immediately nestling himself between your legs. He lets out an excitable yip as you gather him in your arms, throwing your head slightly back as he starts licking your cheek. Charles watches the two of you with an amused smile on his place on the bed, raising himself on his elbow to get a good look at you. When your eyes eventually find him, his eyes are soft with amusement as he smiles at the both of you. “I swear, he loves you more than he loves me,” he says, though there’s no trace of jealousy in his voice, only warmth.

You laugh, nuzzling Leo as he continues his happy assault on your cheek. “Of course he does. I’m the one who spoils him,” you tease, looking over at Charles with a mischievous glint in your eyes. “You’re just the guy who shows up occasionally and tries to take credit.”

Charles raises an eyebrow, feigning offense. “Oh, is that how it is?” He shifts, sitting up fully now, his arms crossing over his chest in mock indignation. “I’m pretty sure I’m the one who brought him home that day. And I’m definitely the one who gives him the good treats.”

You roll your eyes, setting Leo down as he excitedly darts around the room. “Please, he only sticks around for your treats because you give him way too many,” you reply, but there’s no real bite in your tone. It’s all part of the playful banter, the rhythm of your mornings together whenever Charles manages to make it home.

Charles grins, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth, but there’s a softness in his expression now. “Yeah, well, he’s got good taste,” he says, his voice quieter, more sincere. His eyes lock with yours for a moment, and suddenly, the teasing feels like a cover for something deeper.

He shifts on the bed, making space for you as Leo bounds around your legs before darting back to Charles, as if he can sense the closeness between the two of you. “Come here,” Charles says, his voice low and inviting. “Both of you, please.”

You hesitate for just a second, but then you sit back down on the bed, Leo jumping up to settle between you. Charles wraps an arm around you, pulling you close to his side as he ruffles the puppy’s fur. Leo lets out a contented little sigh, his tail still wagging lazily as he curls up beside you both.

There’s a comfortable silence between you now, the kind that both of you agree doesn’t need to be filled with words. Charles leans his head against yours, and you feel all of his affection in the simple gesture. His eyes are on you as he presses his forehead against yours. After a moment of silence, Charles speaks again, his voice soft. “I know I’m gone a lot. And I know I always try to keep you here with me when I’m home, but…” He pauses, as if trying to find the right words. “I just want you to know how much I love you.”

You turn your head slightly to look at him, your heart swelling at the vulnerability in his words. “I know, Charles, I love you too.”

He smiles, a small, genuine smile that reaches his eyes. “I’m lucky,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment before pulling back. “Really lucky.” You lean into him, your hand resting on his chest as you let the warmth of the morning, the closeness of this little family you’ve built, fill the space between you.

And maybe, just maybe, you’ll let yourself stay a little longer.

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc smut

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pukefactory · 1 month ago

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I was reading through your ENA writings, and I was wondering: Would you do headcanons or stories for a more angsty prompt? I was wondering how ENA might navigate the downs of a relationship. 'Cause like, ENA literally has a part of herself called her "meanie side". She'd definitely say something she regrets at some point. Doesn't help that she probably hasn't had very many relationships of this type.

Could you write some headcanons for what happens if ENA's meanie side says something... well, really mean, and how she navigates the aftermath of driving her partner to tears?

It's fine if not! That definitely seems to be a little outside the general vibe with these. Plus, I even have some ideas of my own for this, too!

(For example, maybe her partner gains a bit of a phobia of her meanie side's voice, so she forcefully tries to change it into her more friendly-sounding salesperson voice, but that's really hard because it seems like her meanie side talks when she's distressed in general, like her PTSD-like response to the vending machine refusing to sell her stuff, or when Froggy calls her when she arrives at the Purge event.)

Sorry, you're making my own creative gears whirl, lol! All that to say, it's cool if you'd rather do more wholesome stuff.

•☽────✧˖°˖ I DON’T KNOW HOW TO LOVE ˖°˖✧────☾•

★ Summary: A Compilation of Headcanons Featuring Salesperson Ena Trying To Make Up To The Reader After Saying Something Hurtful

★ Character(s): Salesperson Ena (Ena: Dream BBQ)

★ Genre: Headcanons, SFW

★ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

★ Image Credits: @JoelG

☆ The words are out before she even processes them. Ena’s Meanie side, fueled by frustration, sharpens her tongue like a blade, and the moment your face crumples, her geometric form glitches. “Oh… Oh, WAIT.” The red side is already scrambling to take control, but the damage is done. A hard swallow, a glitchy stammer, and her face flickers between a grimace and a forced salesman’s grin. “A-alright, that was a limited-time offer of cruelty—uh, poorly advertised, terrible customer service. I’d like to issue an immediate recall—”

☆ The realization sends her into a spiral. She grips her hat, her polygons jagged, her expression contorting between stiff remorse and an agonized smirk. “No-no-no-no-no, I-I, um—LOOK OVER THERE!” (There’s nothing there.) “Uh, NO NEED TO CRY, HAH, IT WAS A JOKE! …A bad one, really bad, I mean, did you get it? No? Not funny? Oh. Ohhh, geez.” Her hands wave wildly, like trying to physically catch her mistake midair, but all she’s doing is digging the hole deeper.

☆ The Salesperson side desperately tries to salvage the situation, slipping into her usual corporate babble as if she can sell her way out of emotional devastation. “I have an INCREDIBLE deal for you today! A fantastic, once-in-a-lifetime, super-duper-special ‘I’m Sorry’ package! It comes with—uh—regret! Profound self-loathing! A, uh, complete reimbursement of all emotional damages! Act now and receive bonus guilt!” She grips her hat. “That… that didn’t help, did it.”

☆ The Meanie side hunches forward, knees drawn to her chest, voice quieter now, almost trembling. “I—I didn’t mean it like that…” The weight of the moment presses down on her, cracks spiderwebbing along her skin. “I say stupid things. Mean things. I-I don’t even think before I—” She hiccups, trying to contain the mess of static in her chest. “I just wanted to be heard. Not… not this.”

☆ The second you leave, the performance is over. No business chatter, no outbursts—just silence. Ena folds in on herself, static fizzing at her edges. Her polygons warp and distort, a physical manifestation of regret. She hugs herself, claws digging into her polygonal sleeves, whispering, “That was so, so stupid. Stupid. Stupid.” The word repeats until it’s nothing but glitchy noise.

☆ Ena isn’t great at this. She tries every trick in her book—witty remarks, elaborate business metaphors, even writing an entire jingle about how sorry she is (it’s terrible). But when all else fails, she just slumps forward, hands clasped, voice trembling between glitchy laughter and something achingly real. “I really don’t want to lose you. Not over my dumb mouth. Not over me.”

☆ She leaves gifts that make zero sense—a business card that just says “SORRY” in bold letters, a rock painted like a sad face, an actual coupon that reads, “Redeem this for one (1) unfiltered Ena sincerity session.” Eventually, she just shows up, staring, fingers twitching. “So, uh… did you use the coupon yet?” A pause. “I-It’s refundable.”

☆ Eventually, she cracks. Underneath the layers of glitchy bravado, underneath the business-talk deflections, she’s just… scared. “I don’t… I don’t know how to do this right,” she admits, voice warping between pitches. “I don’t know how to be—uh—soft. Or gentle. Or—consistently good. I just—” She wrings her hands. “I never meant to hurt you. But I did. And that—it—it sucks. And I suck. And I wanna—fix it. If—if you let me.”

☆ The Meanie side knows she’s the problem. Always the one who pushes too hard, who says the wrong thing. What if this is the time she can’t fix it? What if she just… loses you? That thought alone is enough to crack her voice into something unsteady, her edges blurred with static. “You… you don’t have to forgive me,” she murmurs. “But I—I really hope you do.”

☆ When you finally—finally—lean into her, still sniffling but not leaving, Ena’s entire form stabilizes. No more warping polygons, no more distortion. Just a deep, shaky exhale. “Okay,” she whispers, almost afraid to move. “Okay. This is still a disaster. But, uh… I think I can work with ‘disaster’ better than ‘gone.’” A small, wobbly grin. “Let’s… let’s fix this together, yeah?”

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madamechrissy · 3 months ago

Text

Baby You're No Good Masterlist/ Clan Leader Geto headcanons

Part One - Part Two -Part Three - Part four- Part five (angst ending)- Part Six (happy ending)

Pairings - Cult leader/clan Leader Geto x F! reader (also gojo x reader/ potential Satosugu x reader depending on the end!)

CW- Arranged marriage trope, ENEMIES TO LOVERS, psychotic Geto lol- lots of hate sex, Suguru calling you a stupid monkey, angsty in places, FULL of smut. Reader is a virgin bc she's sheltered due to been promised to him. Reader is FEISTY asf and mean right back. Explicit sex and Geto being whipped/insane/obsessed and an ass. Gonna be angsty and emotional, and messy- possible open ending -Six parts- WC so far - FINISHED - WC - 45k

Playlist -Headcanons below! (More hcs here) - Ao3

Clan Leader Geto who finds out he's forced to marry a human of all things!? A pathetic, pretty human with absolutely no cursed energy, so he detests you on sight.

Clan Leader Geto is disgusted by the thought of having to be with you, he certainly doesn't want to kiss you at the wedding. Sure he sleeps with members of his cult, and he can see you're gorgeous, but mortals just have no pull for him. When you're walking up in these pretty white robes for their wedding day, he tries not to even look in your direction.

Clan Leader Geto doesn't realize you are terrified, you've heard just how insane this curse user is, and you certainly don't want to be with someone like this. Sure, he's a beautiful man, his long silky black hair, his violet eyes that land on you for just a moment, he's tall and has the perfect jaw line, but you can't be interested in him, when full of fear. But, you must do your duty.

Clan Leader Geto leans down and gives you a perfunctory kiss as you all get married, you see all the women who are obsessed with him whispering about you, making you lower your head, as Suguru tries to figure out just what it was that he felt from you, glaring and grabbing your wrist. 'do you have any cursed energy?' you pull back your hand. 'you already know the answer' so why then does he feel something odd from your energy!?

Clan Leader Geto decides to ignore whatever thoughts those are, laughing and having a goblet of wine as he talks amongst the actual people that matter, the people with cursed energy, and unfortunately the members of the Geto clan, who annoy him to no end. But he tolerates them, as they help him garner more power, after all. When he sees someone dancing along with you at the party, something makes his jaw clench, and why!?

Clan Leader Geto is forced to have to spend the night in the luxurious room they have set up for the two of you, he walks in and sees you in some translucent nightgown, which hits him in the gut, and he can't really figure out why, except he is a man, and his body is reacting, but he just narrows violet eyes at you, while you're brushing your hair in the mirror. You stand up nervously, giving him just a little lowering of your head, before you look at him with frightened eyes, he chuckles a bit, undoing his green and gold belt, then untying his hair, letting it fall softly.

Clan Leader Geto steps to you with an open robe, showcasing a strong chest and defined abdomen, his perfect skin stretched to fit such muscles, stepping closer as he assesses you, murmuring 'guess we should get this over with' your heart beats out of your chest, completely unsure of just what that entails aside from what you've heard, you've been very sheltered as his promised bride. 'must we?' you ask, earning his mean laugh. 'I don't want to anymore than you do, monkey' you glare now, undoing your gown and letting it fall to your feet, watching his thin nostrils flare, his lips part.

Clan Leader Geto is momentarily stunned at the sight of your body, cock already straining in his pants, he instantly hates you more for your stupid effects, as you step to the futon, decorated in blacks and reds, spreading your legs and showing a perfect, pretty little pussy making his mouth water, not that he'd admit it. He disrobes and you see his cock, huge, he steps forward, grabbing you by your hair then, tilting your chin up. 'Do you even know what to do?' your jaw clenches, as he leans forward, the prick of him pulling your hair making you want to cry out in pain. 'no, I do not, but I'm ready'

Clan Leader Geto chuckles, pressing you pack and grabbing you by your hips, before sucking on his two fingers, lewd as his cheeks hollow, then sinking them in your cunt, making you cry out at the stretch. He is cursing internally that you're that tight, because he won't in fact fit easily. 'Tsk, now I'll have to prep a monkey, detestable' you gasp at him, hips arching up 'and I have to fuck a psycho, detestable' at that Suguru snaps, curling his fingers up and hitting some spot that makes you gush down his fingers, as he scissors them faster and faster, nipping at your breasts, earning your smack and his glare 'you dare smack me?' you panic, realizing your folly, but he's hitting some spot that feels too good, so now you're panting, as his cock is leaking precum, ready to slip inside

Clan Leader Geto sinks into your tight entrance, he gives you no mercy or room to adjust, eyes dilated as he sinks so deep you're screaming out, nails digging into his biceps, still scowling at him 'get it o-over with' you whisper, he tries to stifle a moan at how good you feel, better than anything, wondering just what the fuck you are. 'oh, so done with me already, monkey?' he taunts, pumping in and out of your tight little cunt then, and you ignore how good it starts to feel, holding in every sigh, just glaring 'just give me your heir quickly' he loses himself then, burying his face in your neck, there he can allow his eyes to shut in ecstasy, as he fucks into you, feeling your walls flutter despite your words

Clan Leader Geto wants to hear your moans but you refuse out of spite, but when he leans up and pushes up your thighs, and his huge, veiny length is hitting your cervix, you have to cover your face, earning him yanking your wrists down. 'I'll look upon you' he pins your wrists up, fucking harder and harder until you can't stop the orgasm that happens, making you whimper, eyes rolling back, mouth open in this slutty O, and Suguru can't take how sexy you look, he busts so deep inside you, cumming more than he ever has, loads of hot sticky white ropes deep, and he pauses then, as your eyes lock on each other, just staring at you for far too long before you glare 'you're all done, could you get off me?'

Clan Leader Geto fucks you the next night, but he's tired of you acting like you don't like it, so he leans back on his knees, seeing the bulge of his cock in your tummy, finding your clit with his thumb and watching you fall apart, thighs clenching his hips as you whine pathetically. 'stop that!' he chuckles now 'why, monkey?' you grip his wrist, feeling the climax starting, the pressure in your tummy when he rolls it in circles 'just cum inside me, stop doing th-that!' Suguru can't stop, not when he watches you fall apart, feels you cumming all over his cock, no he needs to get you off again. Using it as an excuse to keep cum inside you, he's fingering his cum back in you the next night, making you jerk and twitch, and then he realizes he just needs more.

Clan Leader Geto can't STOP thinking about fucking you again, and again, to the point he's got you in his office, fucking up into you leaned back in his seat, then he decides no he needs more, and he's got you cockwarming him as he starts his cult meetings. He toys with your clit as you soak his cock, chuckling in your ear - 'you're so slutty now, huh' earning you clenching your pussy so tight he almost busts, scowling at you. You hate him more when he's licking your pussy soon, you're yanking dark locks, the feel of his tastebuds in your pussy is far too much 'this isn't how heirs are m-made, just f-fuck me, you psycho' you try to detatch his mouth, but it's already sucking on your clit, as he gets this taste of you, he's ended, and can't stop, only pulling up with glossy lips and dilated eyes to smirk up at you 'it'll help make... heirs, foolish monkey' you shake your head and he's chuckling as he's lapping up your wetness 'orgasms help it take, hmm?'

Clan Leader Geto finds every opportunity to eat out his new bride, with the intention of course of getting her pregnant sooner! there is no other reason, he justifies, couldn't be that your taste drives him insane, or feeling your walls quivering around his tongue makes him cum from just that, soon you're just getting eaten out and he's not fucking you, making you cum over and over on his mouth, whenever he asks you to see him, that's what he's doing, and you're starting to forget how awful he is, your stupid head too fucked up from orgasms. His assistant walks in on his head buried between your thighs, the one he used to fuck actually, and she clears her throat as Suguru looks at her and glares - 'what- m'busy' you close your legs nervously, adjusting your robes as the assistant sighs 'we have that cult meeting, Mr. Geto' he frowns, because he'd rather eat you out than do that, and you remember then, he's horrible and psychotic, and hop off, leaving in a rush.

Clan Leader Geto finds you crying later because the people in his group are calling you worthless, a monkey, this and that, things he calls you, but for some reason he's infuriated, as he sees tears streak down your face 'I hate it here! I do!' you're shutting him out now, as you realize you're the only human in a place full of people who don't want you to exist, mainly your husband, a husband although you've had sex with countless times, you have never even kissed, a husband who hates you. After ignoring him for weeks, he begins to jerk off to the thought of you, begins to take your underwear and lick it, as he strokes his cock, ignoring every advance, too stubborn to admit he wants more with you. How can he!? You're a stupid monkey after all, so he just keeps pleasuring himself as you pull away, as you lock your door, until you finally come in and say - 'I'm pregnant, it's... we don't have to again' and Suguru drops to his knees.

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