#you can tell i've never been in a relationship before

[jude-duarte-wannabe]

childhood sweetheart material

oh my god!!! it's finally here, i made sure to change the posting settings this time!! i know it's not a bakery request but i've been writing them and i have a bunch in my drafts, i've got my sister editing them for me and hopefully one will be out soon... but for now enjoy my lovely's <3

pairing; carlos sainz jr x childhood best friend viviana martinez [original character]

blurb; this is a list of cute things childhood friend turned husband carlos sainz jr and his childhood friend turned wife viviana martinez do in my smau series that i'm working on called since we were eighteen, this story features a original character but for your reading pleasure, i've used 'you' and 'y/n' in this little snippet <3

currently playing; everything has changed by taylor swift ft ed sheeran "cause all i know is we said, "hello" and your eyes look like comin' home, all i know is a simple name and everything has changed, all i know is you held the door, you'll be mine and i'll be yours, all i know since yesterday is everything has changed"

from day one, you were the one;

your families have been friends for the longest time and while carlos was born a few years before you, you've been friends since you could babble at eachother

carlos can in fact still remember meeting you for the very first time, how tiny you were and his mother still has the photo of three year old carlos kissing your forehead but her personal favorite was one of you two falling asleep on eachother in the backseat of a car when she was dropping you off after a play-date

and so the years kept passing;

as years go by, you and carlos slowly begin to drift apart pursuing different careers and life goals, you knew from a young a age that you loved carlos but didn't realize it was in the romantic way until far later in life

during your teenage years, your parents thought you two were dating and no matter how much your denied it, they never believed you but that was probably due to the platonic to you both kisses you would place on eachothers cheeks or foreheads

when you were nineteen and about to move away and not see carlos for the next four to five years, not that you knew that at the time, you'd begged him to be your first time, it was one of those cliche moments of not wanting to go to college a virgin but he turned you down, saying he didn't want to ruin what you had, what a joke that seemed like now

when you two were young, around the ages of fourteen and eleven, you joked about marrying eachother one day, you even made a contract about how if you were still single after you'd turned twenty two that you'd tie the knot with eachother but as you grew apart, that contract was long forgotten about

coming back to eachother;

you found eachother again at a family reunion, you'd arrived early and got talking with his mother, catching up about life when she brought out old photo albums and low and behold at the back of the album was a paper or contract that you'd long forgotten had existed

you'd been sipping a drink in the garden when you heard the familiar voice, you'd gotten to talking when the topic of relationships came up and you discovered the both of you were single

you joked about tying the knot but he joked back about taking him to dinner first, which you did for giggles but you just fell in love with talking to eachother and began to meet up more often which eventually led to confessed feelings that had been hidden for too long, this left the rest as history

telling your families;

you were both nervous to say the least, your parents had been friends since they themselves were children, little did either of you know both of your sisters had already started to notice the change between you, the little stares and stolen glances but they had noticed it too late.. about three years too late in fact

the two of you had been planning to tell them sooner but you didn't want to give them false hope in case you broke up but you began to like the privacy and how it was just the two of you and before you knew, the two of you were approaching your three year anniversary

it was actually at your anniversary dinner that carlos proposed, you had both just stepped off a twelve hour flight and decided that instead of going out you'd get pizza

carlos thought there would be no better time than when you both sat on the couch eating pizza in comfy clothes to propose, you however almost lost it, you knew your answer was yes but instead of saying the first words out of your mouth were "you let me do this sweatpants" [if you've seen this video, i love you]

it was a week later at the traditional joint family dinner when everyone found out, your younger sister basically screaming her head off when she saw the ring on your finger as you reached for your wine glass

"what is that!" she squealed to which you winced in return and carlos chuckled, your mother looked betrayed as she too just now noticed the ring adorning your finger "when did that happen, i didn't even know you were seeing someone" she asked flabbergasted.

"does this mean you and carlos aren't together" your youngest sister had asked, she was only ten but loved carlos so much, you and carlos shared a knowing look before he shrugged his shoulders and leaned over to kiss you... that set off a frenzy among your family members

when it comes to work;

you work as an actress in horror / thriller films but you absolutely hate being scared, your the biggest wuss carlos knows but his favorite thing about your job is that he has a video on his phone of when one of your cast-mates scared the shit out of you and you screamed like the scream queen that you are

you often come home from set covered in fake blood to which carlos can't help but panic every time thinking your injured before he catches his breath and then helps you wipe it all off but not without you covering him in fake blood first

carlos quite often comes to your photo-shoots and one time the photographer wasn't happy with how the photos were working out, said that their was no real chemistry between you and the male model you had been working with and so he called a break during which you hung out with carlos, sitting in his lap and just enjoying eachothers company when the photographer caught sight of you both and it was like a light bulb went off in his head, that was the birth of the photo you had forever pinned to your instagram account

carlos always insisted on watching your movies, no matter how often you told him he didn't need to you would still come home to find him curled up on the couch with pinon as he pointed and mumbled "there's our girl" in his rough tired voice

your not afraid to show your support to carlos at his races either, attending as a long lost but now returned childhood friend at first but then eventually as his girlfriend and then wife but nobody knew that

while lando was basically carlos's best friend, to you he was your paddock child and you never let him forget it either

one of carlos's favorite things about your job was getting to see you in the gorgeous red carpet dresses, you would always show him and if he happened to be off racing, you'd facetime him instead, he loved being able to zip them up and feel your warm skin as he did it, his favorite dress was this one:

you were honestly carlos's biggest fan and without both his and his fans knowledge, you'd started an account on instagram where you posted the most outrageous things about him like this: which is one of your more tame posts btw

whenever carlos wins a race, gets on the podium or just no matter what place he gets, your wrapping your arms around him as soon as you can and whispering in his ear "i'm so proud of you mi sol"

kisses + cuddles;

there's different kinds of cuddles when it comes to yours and carlos's relationship, these include;

straddled cuddles were your sitting in his lap and wrapped around him, there is nothing sexual about it, just the two of you enjoying eachothers company

hugs from behind no matter where you are, in the motor-home or even the supermarket, carlos just likes to be holding you

and your personal favorite is when he's so exhausted and turns into the little spoon

and finally there's just this;

and then there's all the different kinds of kisses you two share

there's shoulder kisses most of which occur when carlos is hugging you from behind but they also happen in the early morning when carlos is awake and your still asleep but he just feels the need to kiss you in some way

thigh kisses, he loves to kiss your thighs and not just in the sexual way which he does indeed enjoy giving you but it also happens when he's laying in your hold with his head half in your lap and half resting on your legs

then there's the tippy toe kisses, the height difference between you and carlos was adorable but you often have to either stand on your tip toes or wear heels in order just to kiss him

then there's the kisses that you place all over his face after race cause no matter what place he comes, your always so happy for him and just need him to know how much you love him

then there's the kisses you have to tug at his shirt in order to give to him

there's the one where your kissing in bed, not in a sexual way but the 'i've missed you' loving way that has you rolling around and giggling, never wanting the kisses to end

and finally there's the kisses that both of you moaning in-between, it's these ones that normally led to your sexual encounters with eachother

touches and intimate moments;

you two have a habit of one of you two laying in bed, watching the other change in the morning or after a shower, you once said you trusted no one like how you trusted carlos and that's why you let him watch you change

then there's the times when either of you come home either from work or a race, so you sit behind eachother and gently massage the others shoulders

if your ever in the way which carlos says that you never are, he'll hook his fingers into your belt loops and gently scoot you out the way

carlos is the kind of boyfriend where if your too tired to move at the end of the day or after an event, he'll sit and gently wash your makeup from your face while your falling asleep

during the races that happen in colder countries, your often caught on camera pulling carlos close to hug him in order to warm up

your also often caught on camera walking through the paddock together with carlos's hand tucked into the back pocket of your jeans if you happen to be wearing them

and then one of your favorite things about your relationship was taking baths with carlos after a long day, feeling his body pressing against your own just brought you a sense of comfort and peace

dates [of sorts];

one of your favorite dates or even just times that you spend together is having pancake wars; where you two always try to one up eachother with your pancake recipes

whenever you guys go out for dinner, carlos always makes sure to give you the first bite of his food just in case you want to switch meals like you sometimes did

you would also often bring him lunch and end half the time end up staying so that you could eat together

he'll also sit and read you poetry late at night from your favorite poetry books

whenever you guys stay home and have date night in, carlos will often hover over your shoulder and wait to taste test the meal your cooking

then there are the museum dates you guys go on, art museums in particular have always been a part of your love for italian and spanish culture, a fan once took a photo of you and carlos in a museum where he was holding you up so that you could take photos of some of your favorite works of art

and finally and personally carlos's favorite was whenever you two went out for gelato, carlos loved the stuff and you loved taking photos of him

the little things;

just a list of all the little things that you and carlos do slash remember about eachother

your carlos's lock screen and he's yours

he wears your hair ties on his wrist and carries period products in his travel bag just in case you need them in an emergency

he always messages you when your filming to make sure that you've been eating and drinking

the two of you know eachothers routines off by heart, like when he comes home from a morning run, you'll have the shower running and waiting for him

you have a love of classic literature and you often come home to find that he's deep cleaned your bookshelves

you take care of him when he's sick

he'd been whimpering and complaining of a sore throat all day, after a while you'd had enough so you decided to call his mother and ask what she once did when he was sick as a child, when you brought carlos a mug of manzanilla or homemade chamomile tea explaining you'd gotten the recipe from his mother, carlos knew right then and there that he was going to marry you

he once gifted you a stuffed bear and a bottle of his cologne for your birthday so that you had something to cuddle when he was gone and the cologne was for when you missed his smell.. he had to comfort you when you started crying

he loves knowing that you wear his shirts to bed, reminds him that your his

and finally with all the button ups that carlos wears, you often find yourself sewing buttons back onto them, carlos once found you on the couch furiously sewing buttons back onto around ten or so shirts that you'd discovered while doing the washing

no one touches the hair except for you;

when your bored, you often end up begging carlos to let you braid his hair... it's always a yes because ever since childhood, he could never say no to you

you also love to laugh at how messy and fluffed up his hair gets in the morning, the first time you'd seen it you burst out laughing which caused him to blush

down and dirty;

while not going to into detail, here's a list of some of the things you and carlos do in bed

carlos loves eating you out, as mentioned beforehand when discussing his love for giving you thigh kisses

another obvious one was the fact that carlos loved having his pulled during sex

then there's the guided grinding, where his hands gripped at your hips while grinding you down against him

carlos's favorite position to take you in is doggy and no, i personally think there's no explanation needed

carlos has a thing for choking too, you in fact introduced him to it

and finally while it not's something you explore very regularly, you also share a spitting kink

the wedding;

it's been described by friends and family as the most beautiful wedding they'd ever attended, there are photos in the wedding album of you and carlos shoving cake in eachothers faces and instead of a three course meal, you both served pizza at your wedding instead

nicknames;

your nicknames for carlos include; mi sol [my sun] mi vida [my life] papi and mi amor [my love]

carlos called you his wife all the time, including long before you two were married

his nicknames for you include; my wife, mi vida, mi amor and corazón [heart]

aesthetic playlist;

a list of songs that describe you, carlos and your relationship

young and beautiful by lana del ray

boyfriend by ariana grande ft social house

just friends by why don't we

we can't be friends [wait for your love] by ariana grande

never be the same by camila cabello

lay all your love on me by abba

senorita by shawn mendes ft camila cabello

older by isabel larosa

money money money by abba

too sweet by hozier

everything has changed by taylor swift ft ed sheeran [taylor's version]

teenager in love by madison beer

me gustas tu by manu chao

more songs like this can be found on their official playlist

and finally;

this is just how i picture you'd reveal your relationship to the public

movies.with.y/n

movies.with.y/n; my heart always knew it'd be you @ carlossainz55

[euniexenoblade]

I debated if I wanted to mock this post/screenshot for a couple hours and i decided I was just gonna go in line by line and dissect it

"being poly is a choice you make. not an identity you cannot change."

I disagree. I struggled with this through most of my teens and early twenties. The desire to be with multiple people was strong and the concept that I couldn't be with all of them was very confusing and hurtful not just to me, but the people I was with. Had I been taught what polyamory is younger and had known that monogamy is not actually the only way you're allowed to be, i'd have probably been able to stop struggling with this much sooner. Do I think this was as big of a mental struggle as being gay or trans? Nah. But it was certainly an issue that ate away at me.

As much as polyamory was a choice, so was me being trans was a choice. I would say both are inherent to who I am. Just because something isn't inherent to your identity, doesn't mean it isn't inherent to mine.

The second paragraph is a gross misinterpretation of what was said. I said abused poly people in relationships they cannot escape will likely cheat when they do find love. The same is true for monogamous people who cannot escape relationships. This happens all the fucking time. To women. To gay people. To trans people. To poly people. This is so utterly common it's an overused trope in story telling.

"OBVIOUSLY abusive situations aside"

The post was about abusive situations. You're already throwing away the core concept to the post.

"why are you staying with someone you are completely incompatible with"

This shows how this person has no value for relationships. Just because you realize you're poly doesn't mean your feelings for an individual disappears. You want to see if this relationship can still work, whether monogamous or polyamorous. Not to mention so many people would find themselves homeless or penniless by just leaving. There's no actual understanding of love and relationships and the heart here.

"you don't need to pursue any kind of relationship ever"

And gay people don't have to be in gay relationships. Trans people don't have to transition. Doesn't change the longing to experience what you want to experience.

"where exclusivity is agreed upon"

I know poly people who entered relationships under the premise the other person was poly, just for that person to decide "actually I'm monogamous, and I'll kill myself if you leave me." You have no understanding or empathy.

"wanting to be poly does not excuse cheating what is wrong with you people"

Look I agree cheating sucks and violates trust, but acting like it's the worst thing in the history of ever is just childish. I get it hurts but at the end of the day, you do not own another person's body and sometimes shit happens. I just do not care what other people do with their own bodies and you cannot make me believe I'm supposed to care. If my husband goes and fucks someone without my permission (which he commonly does) then that's rad. I hope he has fun. If my wife goes and fucks someone I don't know (which she regularly does) then fuck yeah I hope they both had fun. Y'all are too fucking uptight.

Also the tags

The "monogamous people are losers and shouldn't get a say in anything" was something I said in reply to a heckler on my 'monogamous people often abuse poly partners' post. To take it solely as 100% serious opinion is foolish and childish.

"I cheated cuz waaa"

I've never cheated on any partner. The post isn't even saying it's ok cheat, it's saying that poly people get branded as cheaters whether they do or don't. But I'll say it here just because it's so controversial that it pisses losers off: it's ok for polyamorous people to cheat on monogamous partners. Get out before they abuse you.

[dilf-docs]

Hello! I love what you write it’s amazing! ✨

Can I request an Eddie Brock one where the reader is her neighbor and they are pretty close and she’s in love with him but he’s still obsessed with Anne, and one day she sees him really sad (about Anne) and invites him to see her band and she starts playing (The one- The Warning) and idk something interesting happens:0

Take A Chance On Me

eddie brock x younger fem!reader

summary: being in a relationship with eddie is a bliss! except for when he mourns his ex relationship with anne, which unfortunately, seems to be pretty much all the time. in the middle of all that sulking, you come up with an idea. will you be able to make him choose you this time?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, situationship lol, so angst!!, sunshine!reader x grumpy!eddie (he's still mopping around), hurt/comfort, exhibition kink, fingering, oral (f. receiving), p. in v., riding, creampie, you can tell i've been listening to ABBA ijbol, no venom :(

word count: 4,394 words

side note: hi, tysm for requesting! since this request is very specific lol but has similar themes to my previous eddie work i decided to make it as a follow-up in the neighbours au; not a series yet but it was an interesting idea to add to their dynamic!!! hope you like it <3 in case you wanna read the previous part for context as to where this two are it's here

Ever since that night, your relationship with Eddie has grown. Hell, you may say you're a day away from being official any time.

And there are time's when you're so sure of it, like when he stops by your apartment and kisses you like there's no one else in the world; to later make you come hard with the lights off (hey! you gotta start a tradition or two).

But there are other times when you knock on his door and he doesn't open, only for you to use your spare key, finding the room scented with empty bottles, your neighbor mumbling something like Anne through his sad pouty lips.

Yes, Anne. A name that makes you seethe like it burns; a ghost that haunts the spaces of silence where Eddie seems to doubt what the hell is he doing: why is he there―with you.

Your heart feels heavy, and it feels sort of pathetic that it's his hurting what hurts you the most. In the end, things are like this: you love helping people, your empathy may be infinite and you're sure you've never loved anyone like you love Eddie Brock before.

So it's this combination of things that makes you take the following decision, hoping to make him pass the page, so whenever he gets drunk again, all his lips will ever whisper is your name over and over again; that his sadness belongs to him, and not the only person that seems to be keeping you away from your happy ending, even if they don't know about it.

To Eddie, you're the sweetest thing in the world. Nobody kisses like you do, hugs with the tightness you do, loves as much as you do, fucks as good as you do or bakes killer cookies like yours.

That list does nothing but grow, as he is constantly mesmerized by every new little thing he learns about you: your favorite movies, the new recipes you try (he's more than happy to beta taste them for you), the way you sing (you do have a good voice that made him squirm at the other secret talent you had) and your kindness, which has done more hurt than good lately: because Eddie can't fathom the idea of you, taking care of him during his sad drunken mopping nights, while listening to everything about Anne on repeat.

He knows it hurts you, that he's starting to create creaks in your relationship, the hope slowly fading away from your eyes each passing day, doubts creeping up your smile, erasing that shiny beautiful light of yours; it's the only thing stopping him from calling you his girlfriend, and still, he can't stop.

It's like a vice at this point, and he wonders if he'll ever sober out of it.

So today he knocks on your door, hoping to set things straight even if a part of his heart still beats for Anne. It may be selfish, but after you came in his life, he can't imagine it without you.

But when you open up, he's at loss for words.

"Why are you wearing that?"

You scoff. "Hope it's not an offense, judging by your tone"

His eyes roam over your body, and even if you tend to be more on the confident side, you can't help but feel shy. After all, he's never seen you like this before: all glam.

It's a jacket, well his jacket, a small black top and black very short shorts. You surely are playing the part tonight, switching your usual pink and sunflower bubbly style to something more... rock.

"Why?" is all he asks, and you feel obligued to answer. Besides, you were going to knock on his door after getting out, not expecting he did it first. The surprise is ruined, but his incredulous eyes suffice for now.

"So, my friend has this band" you explain, "and they just got sick. The thing is, they had a gig today in a bar where they're regulars, so naturally, cancelling at last minute is not an option"

"And?" you love how oblivious he can be sometimes.

"And, I found a replacement" his face remains blank, so you sigh a little dissapointed but deliver with chirp, "me!"

"You?"

You roll your eyes, "is there a problem?"

"No!" he corrects hastily, "I'm just surprised, that's all. I know you like to sing, and have a good voice! But there's a huge gap between that and well, playing in a gig"

"I know, but I used to have a band when I was in highschool; I'm used to this things"

His mouth falls a bit, and maybe his head starts to cloud with ideas of your clashing new style and angel like voice; or maybe it's you wearing his jacket, a garment of his for you to bear in public: a first. It's a bit stupid and too daydream-ish for his liking, so he blurts:

"I didn't know that"

Your laugh is so light, it feels like wind blowing across a field.

"Oh, Eddie baby" he blushes at the pet name and endearing tone, your voice dropping like it does whenever you want something he's more than willing to give you, "there's a lot you don't know about me"

In the end, you convinced Eddie to join you, who, if you're being honest, didn't need that much convincing.

He was sold just with the idea of seeing you sing, which intrigued him. There's a huge difference in your drunk karaoke nights that annoyed your neighbors and playing live in a gig. Eddie wants to see what you have to offer, and as for you? Well, this is your plan: your plan to make him forget about Anne once and for all.

It may be silly and immature but hey, you're young! It's okay to be wrong and possessive sometimes, and your friend just did you the favor of faking an illness to give you a spot to shine and put that voice of yours to use, that's a bit rusty since your highschool days. So, no pressure! Your potential boyfriend is on the crowd and ruining this would cost your kind friend their job. Good thing your optimism doesn't seem to expire, because Lord! Your hands are trembling and sweaty when you hold a microphone again for the first time in a little more than a decade.

"Hey" you exit out of the curtain, and the dim lights now bright up a little, directing themselves towards you, "good evening"

You hear a bit of muffled voices that sound confused, asking for your friend, and you can tell the crowd are regulars. Yikes.

"I'm here on behalf of Isha. They're sick, so I'm covering just for tonight" you decide to go for a little jokey joke to light up the otherwise judgemental room, that seems to be testing you―like they know all your weak spots; smell your nerves. "So don't like me too much, as I'm a one time thing"

Eddie laughs, but covers it with a cough when he realizes the room is awfully quiet.

"Okay, uh, for tonight's set, I've got a few things prepared" you fumble a bit with the papers where the lyrics are (you've always liked to be a bit old fashioned), like you're clumsy and it's your first time, not reflecting the fact that this idea has been simmering for a while―every song rehearsed and planned. "Songs, I mean, I've got a few songs prepared"

You start with something smooth, which makes people divert their attention back to whatever they were doing. To you, that's a bit dissapointing, but as long as they don't judge and Eddie keeps his eyes on you, you think you can make it.

But what where you really thinking? Being optimistic means you're often let down, as your pink bright ideas end up crushed by the real gray world. And you can handle it―as you're no weak, but resorting to singing a song that feels oddly specific about the situationship you're currently living in hopes of making Eddie forget his ex fiancée and get whooped by your mesmerizing voice is actually kind of crazy!

But yeah, now you're nearing the end of the set list and almost everyone's eyes are on you. Of course, Eddie is the most attentive, taking every word that pours out of your melodic mouth like if he's thirsty, and your voice is the only thing that can help him. He never leaves your silhouette, and it may be you dreaming, but there's something like guilt and love behind his eyes; torn. Yeah, you do feel like you're dreaming, and it's been so long since you felt this alive; you kind of forgot how happy singing made you.

As the crowd is engaged, you find it fitting to make a pause and announce the next song. You know your voice comes out as shaky, but hope people think it's about tiredness and not nerves. Why are you nervous, thought? People love you! It's because this is the final part of your plan: singing this song you used to be obssesed long ago, but now seems to perfectly sum up those raw, angry and vulnerable feelings fo yours you're simply not used to; they say music helps us put a name to that we can't, and that has never been more true.

"For the next song, well, our last song" a few booing echos in the crowd, and you can't believe you made it this far. Maybe Isha did lost their job, "it's called The One, by The Warning. Hope you enjoy"

Eddie's had such a blast tonight, he hasn't noticed the past of time, completely lost when you announce the last song. Among other things he's forgotten, is the fact he was supposed to talk today with you about the future of your relationship.

It's kind of your fault: how can he remain focused with such display in front of him?

The band begins playing, and soon, your voice fills the air:

I'll do anything to make it happen

Tell me your secrets, what are you hiding?

Some people sing along the lyrics, while others just listen attentively. You make it to a part of the song that sounds like:

Can you explain to me what's this feeling?Love it or hate it, it's never leaving. Want to believe, that you feel it too.

Oh, Eddie feels nauseous. The lyrics hit a bit too close to home, and he fills called out in the room of oblivious people.

He can hear your vocals breaking a bit, as raw as he's never heard before. He feels so bad, he's about to make the most ridiculous thing of his life and jump onto the stage to hug you, but he can't interrupt you. So he sits there, palms sweaty and nerves tense.

He's been dumb, but like, really dumb. Of course you know it: how can you not? He swears every morning after, his hangover unbearable, your kindness hurts more than his headache―because there's pain behind your eyes, and he knows you remember more what happened than he did. He feels undeserving of your compassion and all the care you give him, even if you know Eddie's still hung up on Anne.

There is no reason to even doubt it. Please, understand that I am not lying. My heart is true, it beats for you.

How can you still love him? Still root for him? How can you give him your heart knowing a part of his still beats for Anne?

Fantasizing that something might happen, always wishing that I was the one.

He feels torn, because he knows it's you he wants to be with. You're the reason his days have been brighter ever since he lost everything, the reason he smiles whenever his door knocks and why he isn't alone in this sulking anymore. So he hates the fact that he can't heal faster and move on, because that's all that's really stopping him from just being him and you.

Give me something I can feel, I'm too afraid to ask. What is it I need to change, for you to love me back?

He's done mourning but he knows grief doesn't pass in the blink of an eye. But he's sure of it already.

Say that you will really never hurt or leave me. Say it and it will come true. Hold me like you really love me: tell me that you do.

Those three words he's been holding back: afraid of feeling too much in such little time; afraid of thinking he would ever feel his heart beat for anyone else, the confession dripping from his eyes but not past through his sealed mouth.

And I know that I'm not the one on your mind. But still, I will be the one.

The song ends before he's registered, and amid the applauses, you leave the stage, almost running behind the courtain. The band bids goodbye and Eddie finds himself leaving his table and moving onto where the small improvised dressing room is.

He's done pondering. You will be the one.

You didn't plan to rush backstage like that, but tears started to burn in your eyes and it was getting harder to contain them infront of the crowd.

They loved your show, but you feel empty, even if a little relieved. There was a pressure before and now it's gone, but there's a thing that hasn't gone: the doubt.

You wonder if Eddie understood the words you feel like a coward for not voicing, the feelings that threaten to spill like a hot cauldron, the rage burning your throat when he talks about her, like she's all there is in his mind. Then comes the sadness; you can't help but wonder if he will ever choose you.

Tonight, perhaps, is the day all those what-if's will be answered, and their possible answers won't hunt you anymore.

It's like he read your mind, because there's a knock in your door and it's like you have memorized a bit too much of Eddie: the traces of his face―with wrinkles that mark the gaps in your relationship, the loud way in which he eats, the sounds he makes when he rides his bike, especially those when you wrap your arms around his; even the way his knuckles call for you through the door.

You clear your throat, trying to hide your broken voice. "Come in"

Eddie's face pops up, and all you can offer him is a weak smile. "Did you like the show?"

He tries to measure what he's about to say, because he doesn't know where to start, but the glow in his eyes betrays him, so he excitedly says: "It was great! I didn't know you had that in you, baby"

Even the pet name doesn't make the smile reach your eyes. Oh, he's screwed up for sure.

"Thanks" you mutter, small. You hate feeling like this: the last time you did, you were still in middle school. Your kindness was taken for weakness, and you promised yourself you would never let your heart be taken and used again. Yet here you are, hope planting a seed inside of you that's grown into a rose with thorns that pierce your sweet heart whenever it beats for Eddie. But you can't stop: the roots are too deep in you, and you can't find yourself to kill the flower that's bloomed out of this one-sided love.

"Listen, y/n" oh, he's serious. No petname or nothing. Maybe he's finally opened his eyes and realise this fooling-around-thing you've got going on isn't going nowhere; that your new isn't as exciting as it was before, and his heart will never be yours. You'll never be the one.

"Y-yes?" you can't fake it. Your voice cracks, so you avoid looking at him, "tell me, Eddie".

He shouldn't start with that, seeing the way your face fell and body shakes, even though you're sitting.

"Fuck. Baby, no" he coos, getting closer and dropping on his knees, forcing you to look at him by taking your face softly by the chin, "look at me".

When you meet his eyes and they're already glossy, he feels like he deserves a higher punishment than what any physical one could ever accomplish.

"No, no. Shit, I'm sorry" he tries wiping your tears with his thumb, but you keep on crying more. "Ah, fuck"

"Are you done with me?" you ask on a shaky whisper.

Funny saying that when you weren't even a thing. But you can't help and yearn for it; said what first came onto your mind.

"No!" he corrects, so quick and loud it startles you. "What made you think that?"

"The song-" you start blabbering, "No, I'm sorry Eddie, it's my fault. I shouldn't put on a show that's m-more like a tantrum if we're being honest. We're adults and we can talk, for God's sake! That was so immature of me. Let's just forget this and- I don't even know what to do or what to say, just, spare me from walking out or taking the elevator at the same time I do because it's just gonna be so embarrasing- please, if you're gonna break up with me, do it quick-"

He didn't want to, but he feels the need to interrupt your little rant by now.

"Y/n, stop" you feel even more embarrased now. You start to drift a little and begin considering to move out of the country and change your name. "Who said anything about breaking up?"

Ah, you feel stupid. Stupid, but hey! How can you not come to that conclusion? It's both of yours fault.

"Y-you didn't" you whisper, "but-" you try to reason yet the anger and embarrasment is a bit too much.

"I didn't yet I can understand why you'd feel that way" he sighs, "but let me explain, please"

With a nod, you motion him to continue.

"I'm the only one who should be saying sorry. You did nothing wrong, baby; in fact, your little solution to talk out your feelings surprised me a lot. In a good way! You know I love your voice. But anyways, as I was saying, I'm sorry about everything. It's just... it's not fair to you: you've been nothing but sweet, loving and the best girl I've met ever. I feel like I don't deserve you, and after tonight, if you choose not to stay with me, I'll get it. You're worth of much more than a sad, older and bitter nobody" he ends his sad little man speech, and you can't help it but leave your sit and wrap your arms around him, burying your face on his shoulder as you whisper lovingly on his ear:

"I know, Eddie" you stroke his hair gently, "but I'm not leaving you. Never"

He lets himself sink into your embrace, the perfume and sweat such an intoxicating smell, he's drowning in your scent already.

"Good" his voice turns husky, dropping an octave. The hard on his jeans doesn't go unnoticed, "because I wanted to give my rockstar a reward"

You laugh, and he feels better seeing you smile.

"Seriously, Eddie? How can you go from vulnerable to horny?"

"Both are states of vulnerable!" he defends, "besides, tell me that you don't want it" he motions for you to stand against the dresser, your back against the mirror, goosebumps in your skin when it touches the cool surface.

Eddie grips the flesh of exposed skin your shorts show, leaving a trail of kisses against the bare tights. He pulls them off, and you gasp out a contained moan.

"Someone c-could find us, Eddie"

He growls, his head in between your legs, the panties blocking him from your pulsating cunt. "Let them" he pronounces it so deliciously, you find it hard to resist the panic of being found; Isha will kill you if they found out, but hey, the plan was to get back with Eddie so in the end, it worked, right? Can't get mad at that.

The panties come off with a yank, and you can barely ask if he locked the door before his tongue gives the exposed dripping folds a generous lick. You arch your back at the pleasure that runs through you.

"Mpmh, Eddie" you groan, feeling his slow but steady movements. Your breathe comes out ragged, more when he uses his thumb to caresses the sensible zone with fast circles, making you cum with a cry, yet it muffles inside his mouth that captures your lips in a kiss.

You can taste yourself in his lips, but let him devour your mouth.

"Want more?" Eddie groans against your mouth, his fingers going inside you, softly touching the entrance. You moan against his lips, moving your hips greedily in response.

"Yes" you moan out, making him chuckle.

"Seems I'm not the only horny one here, baby" he mocks, "are you that needy?"

You huff out, annoyed at the accusation.

"Don't worry, you and I both know we love to help each other out" his voice is soft, "besides, it's been a stressful day for us, hasn't it. Let me make you feel better, baby"

His hand travels inside you, his middle and forefinger sliding lazily into you. You tense up, feeling him touch your clit, his fingertips stroking over sensitive tissues. He can see the mirror fogging, and if he didn't have his head in between your legs, he'd probably see his face full of your juices.

"Shit" his voice comes out of his chest, sounding rather gutural and animalistic. "God, how wet you feel, baby"

You mewl. But it's not enough, his fingers falling short: you need to feel all of him. Now.

"Eddie" you beg in need, "please".

"Please what?"

Your hands travel to his pants, undoing his jeans. His large palm stops you before you can reach his underwear.

"Say your words, baby" he taunts, and you hate the way your neediness leaks from in between your tights.

"Just... I need you, Eddie"

He gets rid of the jeans by himself, and you stroke his member covered by the fabric. You get rid of it too, and the next thing is your mouth saying: "I want to ride you"

Even in his haze, he reacts a bit, looking around the room.

"There" you point the chair you were sitting previously on.

He sits down, obeying without a word. You come close, gripping his member firmly in your hand. You pump from the bottom to the top, making him roll his eyes and throw his body back from the pleasure.

His eyes go blank as you sit over his dick, already leaking with pre-cum. Eddie grabs you by the hips, the veins on his arms more notorious, some tattoos popping up like they are 3D.

"You're beautiful" he mutters, and you feel like giving him a reward: so you grab his dick with your hand as his grip gets tighter.

He presses his tip against your fold, side to side, like if he was painting your tight walls with his juices.

He pushes the first centimeter inside, and as soon as you stretch out for him, he starts thrusting, getting a whimper out of you.

"Fuck" he curses, deep inside you. His body shakes, and you feel every single vibration provoked by the friction. You feel dizzy as you go up and down, the rhythm delicious. He keeps moving, his hips doing a circle, all to feel more of you.

"You feel so good, baby" he praises, in ecstasy. You keep moving up and down, covering his long. You bite back a moan, "might end up helping me more than I was going to help you"

He's fucking you silly, and your mind goes blank, so after the thrusts and his confession from before, you dizzy out:

"Everything is for you, Eddie; just for you. You're the only one who can make me feel like this"

"How does it feel?" he asks in a whisper against your ear, his thrusting getting sloppier.

"Feels so good"

"As good as you feel" he moans out, his breathe whistling through his gritted teeth. Your ads bounces against his tights, the sound of skin clapping in the tiny room a very obscene echo. "C'mon, baby. Make me cum"

You tighten with the plea: tights, stomach and ass. Your core is swollen, burning with each new thrust. Eddie keeps you tight as profound as his strong arms can; there'll be a bruise tomorrow.

He pushes all his length inside, keeping you open so he can bury himself deep in you, with strong thrusts against your shaky cunt. His jawline tenses, painfully close to his orgasm.

Your voice comes out muffled, "Harder".

It's funny how no one has even checked the room. No knock, nothing. You suppose they all went out their way when they saw you about to burst in tears, to give you space, a space you're pretty thankful for now.

"You're mine" he rests his forehead against yours, "say it"

His hips shake as you pronounce, "only yours, Eddie"

You can't contain it any longer. There's relief after the intense orgasm that shakes every bone in your body, overestimulation when you feel him cum inside of you, thick shots painting your swollen walls.

You let yourself fall into his arms, the chair creaking with all the weight. Sweat glistens as you try to get your breathe back, your heart beating so fast you fear you'll have a heart attack.

"Tell you a secret?" you hum tiredly against his shoulder, resting your head in it as his long thick fingers comb through your damp hair. You can't believe your plan made it this far, but since you're still in the haze, you can only nod and hum.

He gets closer to you, his hot breathe tickling your ear.

"You're the one, y/n" your heart beats even faster, and you hide your face against his hot skin so he doesn't see the new tears that are forming in your eyes: they're happy tears. "I love you"

Is this is a signal to sing and not voice out your problems? Who knows, maybe next time, if you sing Money Money Money by ABBA, you won't be so broke.

[ponyextulparlog]

//OKAY OKAY guess who played How Fish Is Made (and the dlc). yeah that's right. this may be one of the funkiest ways i've seen someone advertise their game not gonna lie. anywayss about my thoughts on it;; I love how it gives more context to Jimmy/Curly's weird relationship they have going on. esp the scene with the isopod and in the dlc where Curly actually makes an appearance. "I ate his tongue and we've been coworkers ever since!" Jimmy acts exactly like a parasite. He latches onto people and takes what he can get, even if it ruins them in the end, just to benefit himself. But a parasite can't do that without a host, because it's the only method it can keep itself alive. it's a disgustingly co-dependent relationship, one can't be without the other. It also clarifies even further to us when Curly in the dlc mentions being the one that brought him in, which implies he directly influenced in Jimmy being hired by the company. "Quick buck, just a few trips" (to keep it short). these two are destroying each other and despite so they are inseparable. in a bad bad way. hell i dare even go as far as saying the DLC is in Jimmy's pov considering we are an amalgamate mass that keeps consuming. it's never enough. I also think that the big fish before the endings of the first game also may be a metaphor to Swansea?? i picked up on the way it speaks and they definitely sound similar. I'm not sure about the others but if yall have any ideas on it do tell. this may be a stretch of mine but the Do fish feel pain? in the musical sequence may also be on par with the I hope this hurts in MW. And the raw meat twitching this is definitely about Curly. okay now for theory timeee back to the isopod thing. Jimmy manipulated Curly to bring him closer, so after being fucked in life (probably by his own choices) he could continue his parasitic cycle. as host, Curly fails to notice this until he is unable to take it any longer. He victimized himself to appear small and break down Curly's walls. Earn his sympathy so he could attack, appear as friendly as possible- at first, at least. and it worked WAY TOO WELL. Curly's a good man, everyone's dependable guy. of course he'd help him. it was way too easy of an opportunity to miss and Jimmy knew. ANYWAYS i could say more but i shall spare yall of my incessant yapping. just know that i WILL make fanart about this (how the fuck do you draw an isopod??)

[bueckerrss]

notions - azzi fudd

summary𞠬: your relationship with azzi has been amazing. but is it too good to be true?

warnings: arguments, angst, heartbreak, mentions of y/n, toxic! azzi. many time skips, kinda rushed. bad writing (?)

pairing: x reader

tags: @patscorner @pbueckerslover @h34rtsformilli @cosmopretty @st4rrzynight @xxloveralways14 @authentic-girl03 @paigebuxkets @alaninavae @sophswbb

masterlist | taglist

𖢻𖢻𖢻𖢻𖢻𖢻𖢻𖢻𖢻𖢻𖢻𖢻𖢻𖢻𖢻𖢻𖢻𖢻𖢻𖢻𖢻𖢻𖢻𖢻𖢻𖢻𖢻𖢻𖢻𖢻𖢻

LOOKING AT HER i knew i had lost the battle. she left without looking back, i looked up as i tried to swallow my tears. she walked away, like she didn’t just break my heart.

that was it… all along it was just a game for her. i played the fool, letting my guard down too soon.

-

“i was wondering if you would like to go out with me?” she smiled softly a little pink tint on her cheeks as she looked around.

i stood there shocked before i nodded my head yes, i hugged her with a smile on my face, “here these are for you” she said handling me a small buque of flowers but not any flowers, my favorite flowers.

“thank you!” i said taking it my smile getting bigger as i took it, “you really didn’t have too!” i said “no, i wanted to” she said “come in!” i said opening my door more for her to walk in. as she walked in she sat down on the couch frantically typing on her phone before i spoke “would you like any water or anything?”

“a water would be fine” she replied not looking up from her phone, i came back with a cup of water “here you go” i said smiling “thanks” she said taking the cup but not looking up.

-

“are you seriously accusing me of cheating?! why would you think that? shes just a friend y/n!” a drunk azzi argued “the way she was looking at you did not seem like it!” i argued back trying to hold back tears, not of sadness but of anger. “great now you’re crying! jesus fuck y/n!” she said pinching her nose bridge. “you know what call me when you’re sober.” i said walking away from her.

as i walked down the streets the cold november breeze made my face flush more red than i already was, i took deep breaths trying to calm myself down, she’ll come looking for me i know she will…

five seconds turned into five minutes and five minutes turned into five hours… i did other things to try and keep myself from calling her.

i shut my phone off slamming it down on the nightstand trying to get some sleep. the bedroom door slowly opened as azzi stumbled over to the bed and leaning over to plant a kiss on my cheek “i’m sorry baby” she whispered into my shoulder and lazily planted a kiss on it before going to sleep.

a feeling in my stomach was telling me she was not apologizing about the situation..

-

“flowers for the most beautiful woman ever” said azzi as she walked in to the living room “what, why did you get me flowers?” i said putting down my laptop and grabbing them, “just because flowers?” she smiled softly i opened my mouth to say something before her phone went off “who is it?” i asked trying to see the contact name before she pulled it away “oh it’s paige, i’ll be back” she said walking away.

after a few minutes she comes back, “sorry beautiful but i have to go they scheduled a last minute practice, i’ll text you when i can” she quickly said before grabbing her keys and jetting out the door. ‘follow her’ something in me said i held back but before i knew it i was in my car following her to someone’s house.

i've never been here, i don’t recognize it.

i was outside waiting for forty minutes before azzi came out looking happier than when she walked in, hair slightly messy a shorter girl following behind her before they kissed goodbye, i quickly snapped a few pictures before i drove off. ‘just a friend my ass!’ i thought as i drove back home.

argument after argument came out of the situation.

i knew that these destructive tendencies were not going to go away, it was like a war every day a never ending cycle. something i couldn’t brush off, something telling me to fight for this relationship.

slowly, i realized my mistake, she was just playing me. toying with my emotions, making me play a fool just to feel her love.

i should’ve known but i was ignorant thinking everything would change for the better, soon disappointment washed away my thoughts of a better relationship.

she played games all the time, and i always fell into her trap.

[burstbubbbles]

SEASON 3

- okay the camping trip + camino arc is like 3 naruto arcs in one (kota hating heroes and getting saved by deku = that kid from the land of the mist hating heroes and getting saved by naruto, a troop of some bad guys taking bakugo, the deuteragonist, because they want him to join their league = orochimaru's lackeys taking sasuke away, the fact that they had a competition and some exams in order to be able to go to the camping trip = the different parts of the chuunin exams).

- here's the thing i've noticed, before anyone says im comparing bnha to naruto too much: i think horikoshi uses a lot of popular shonnen tropes and pays a bunch of homages to other shonnen manga on purpose. what purpose? the subversion of expectations. here's the thing, if you're a new watcher who has already watched a bunch of different shonnen animes (like me with naruto), when you see bakugo being taken by the league, even if you don't immediately think of sasuke, you still might guess that now bakugo is going to turn evil, because that's how the story usually goes. instead, horikoshi reminds us bakugo isn't sasuke or your average shonnen deuteragonist, and reestablishes the core values of this character. the reason i draw so many parallels to naruto is because it's the shonnen anime im most familiar with, but im sure a one-piece/hxh/bleach/dgbz/etc fan could do the exact same thing.

- tl;dr: what im trying to say is that the ways in which horikoshi draws inspiration from other shonnen anime isn't lazy; it's not that he doesn't have ideas so he copies. i think he's actually very clever in the way he handles all those influences. thank you for coming to my ted talk.

- anyway back to plot

- i can't believe deku's mom gets hate for literally being a good parent. of course she's not going to want her son at UA after everything she's seen. not all anime single mothers can be mito-san (hxh), and they don't need to be.

- deku's arms are like. about to die. and im not saying that this is never brought up again, but i feel like in the later seasons he didn't exactly hold back. although he's literally trying to come up with a technique so that he can use them again, so idk. iida's hand injury hasn't really been brought up yet either.

- i forgot to mention this before, but shigaraki uses a lot of videogame analogies (he calls big heroes "final bosses", for example) in the same way that deku uses a lot of comic book analogies (if this was a comic book, he would be the protagonist" said by deku about todoroki).

- but it's interesting because, in shigaraki, i think this is used to showcase his immaturity: we associate videogames to kids, and so by using these sort of analogies the author reinforces the childish characterization of the antagonist.

- deku, on the other hand, uses comic book analogies for the sake of meta jokes with the audience (saying todoroki would be the protagonist when he's actually the protagonist of his comic book), which goes back to all the different homages and references horikoshi does to other shonnen manga and anime. i think bnha doesn't get enough credit for how meta it is.

- i like how you can tell bakugo is changing during the provisional license exam, not just in regards to his relationship with deku but also with other classmates. like when he's about to be turned into a weird meat-like thing (some guy's quirk) he tosses his weapon to kaminari because he's confident that kaminari will know how to use it.

- lmao deku vs. kacchan pt 2 is really bakugo going "hey btw im traumatized due to recent events but mostly i've always been severely insecure and that's why i bullied you so why did you always follow me?" and deku replying "bitch bffr i hate you but you're like the coolest guy i know"

- i know i've said it a lot but i really love the foil-like relationship of bkdk and how it's written.

- something idk if i have mentioned at this point or not is that i love uraraka and tsuyu. they're my favorite classmate-characters. but honestly, i appreciate much more the effort that the author put into writing each individual character and making them consistent in their personalities, at least up until the end of the third season.

things im noticing as i rewatch bnha, an ongoing thread:

SEASON 1

- deku really was such a nerd lmao he's just like me fr (like i KNEW but i didn't remember how much i could relate to it. oops.)

- it's also interesting that he always fights back against bakugo and calls him an idiot a lot. idk why (probably because of fandom characterization) i remembered early-seasons deku as a lot more innocent and scared of bakugo. like, here's the thing, deku is scared of pretty much everything at the start because he's shy/anxious. he gets nervous talking to most of his classmates (especially, but not only, girls) when he first meets them and starts trembling when he gets elected as class president before handing the role to iida. so basically, his anxiety isn't reserved to bakugo like i remembered – if anything, he seems to get over his fear of getting bullied by him pretty quickly once he realizes he can fight back.

- kaminari tried to ask uraraka out in their first or second day of school and she was like "uhhh i like to eat... uhh... WAIT DEKU CAME BACK FROM THE NURSE'S OFFICE" lol i really didn't remember that

- bakugo's insecurity was always there. as you're reading this you might be thinking i first watched mha with my eyes closed or sth, and you're not very far from the truth. here's the thing, i first watched it when i was like 14-15, so all i knew back then was that bakugo was insufferable and i didn't think further than that. of course, he ended up becoming one of my favorite bnha characters after reading all of the manga, but it's cool to realize his character arc was foreshadowed from the beginning and didn't just magically start around season 3.

- but yeah, anyway, bakugo's insecurity and his envy over deku's natural noble nature was always there, since season 1. also, deku's real admiration over bakugo was also there. like, going back to my other point, deku wasn't just Not Overly Scared of bakugo, he actually looked up to him despite knowing he was deeply flawed. tbh they were always a bit crazy about each other.

- uraraka is so funny i love her.

- all of class 1A was so chaotic good coded

- like they collectively made fun of bakugo on the bus to USJ for being rude lol. they really bonded over their shared dislike for the guy.

- bakugo gets fucking HUMBLED all of s1. i would also be irrationally angry ngl.

- the dialogues in the first season sometimes are so unnatural for the sake of exposition, like all might telling recovery girl: "do you mind not talking so loudly ab OFA? only you, a close friend, the principal, and midoriya know about OFA. but most professors and some pro heroes also know about my condition and not being able to fight for more than 3 hours a day" like WHO TALKS LIKE THAT ??!1?1?

- deku had to go to recovery girl's office a total of 4 times (if i counted correctly) for broken limbs of fingers in HIS FIRST WEEK of school. which is funnier considering no one else from class 1A had to go even once.

- damn shigaraki was a skinny legend before he got OP

- aizawa did not react at all when he first saw kurogiri (about the shirakumo thing). that was surprising.

- also. AIZAWA IS SO BADASS?? like yes i knew he was badass from the later seasons, but i genuinely didn't remember his first fighting sequence at USJ where he single-handedly fights like at least 20 villains.

- i had also forgotten that shigaraki calls eraserhead "really cool" so early on in the anime, i thought it was a later-seasons thing.

- this is really obvious but i had forgotten the all might theme's resemblance to superman's theme. it's such a cool little detail tho!

- uraraka and deku definitely were crushing on each other when they first met, but i think it's nice that they ended up developing a really strong friendship instead of getting together after hori didn't consistently develop them romantically. it also makes a lot more sense narratively, like why would we care who deku ends up with at the end of his first year of UA when the story actually ends 8 years after that, and it's very unlikely that you marry the same person you started dating when you were 15. idk, i liked that. i like that you can have two characters who maybe have a crush on each other but can't focus on that due to Circumstances and eventually move on and become good friends. it's a win for the platonic department!

- the animation was kinda bad in the first season 😭 but it's understandable and i had fun watching it regardless.

okay im done with s1 tune in for s2 !!

[faetima]

THE AVEN + HANAHAKI THING YESSS I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS FOR SO LONG BECAUSE LIKE. I know it's always super angsty when it's the reader that gets hanahaki but rine having it. imagine pushing your s/o away because you don't think you can do a relationship rn just to get hit by the stupid idiot in love disease. damn sucks to be you man

(tbh hanahaki as fun as the angst is I love aventurine so much and usually just alter hanahaki to be like less deadly because a) I DONT WANT TO BE SAD and b) the whole guilt of "I developed hanahaki because of you now love me or I WILL die" feels strange to me)(but also yum angst and the consequences of pushing someone away) ((sorry I talk a lot teehee okay bye))

𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫. 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠. .

. . too bad he wasn't your darling anymore.

// tws ; slight cursing, blood ; gn reader ; modern au, hanahaki au 

a/n: finally wrote the aventurine exes hanahaki au lol ,, had no idea how to finish this but i might make a part 2 !! :3

ever since you had started dating aventurine, you felt like you were a burden to him in some way. but you were never sure if you were actually a burden to him, or if that was your mind playing tricks on you.

but last week had just solidified your beliefs.

you both had fought over something petty--you couldn't be bothered to remember what it was--and harsh words had been thrown around in the process.

words that cut deep into you, practically making you bleed out.

and after that?

aventurine had ignored you for the rest of the entire week. he hadn't even glanced in your direction. it was fine if he needed some space to think, but he didn't even tell you, he just started fucking ignoring you.

your efforts to talk to him had just been met by blank uninterested violet eyes.

everything that happened in the last week had all led up to yesterday.

you stood in front of his door, swallowing your nerves. why were you so nervous?

after everything that happened, everything you felt, everything he said, you didn't think you could handle a relationship at that point.

so, when aventurine answered the door, his blonde hair unruly and lavender eyes tired, you took a deep breath and finally said the words you had been so scared of saying.

"i want to break up."

--

now, you were rethinking your decision.

on one hand, it felt like a large weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

on the other hand, breaking up with him had left you in your current predicament: crouched on the cold tiled floor of your apartment, hurling up bright yellow marigolds. you coughed them up, unwillingly watching as they hit your newly polished floor. they hit the ground ungracefully, clumped together with a disgusting mixture of mucus and blood. you gagged on the flowers as the sickly sweet smell of the marigolds hit you, making you feel lightheaded and sick to your stomach.

you didn't think you would get the disease again after aventurine asked you out.

you had it once, albeit briefly. it was before you had even talked to aventurine, too scared to do so. maybe it had been your shyness, or maybe you were just scared of rejection. you weren't too sure which, but it had caused you to cough out a few lemon yellow petals.

but, as quickly as the disease had started, it had ended. aventurine talked to you and started getting close to you, and your hanahaki had eventually diminished into nothing. after that, you thought it would never start again.

but you guessed you were wrong, since the disease decided to plague you.

marigold petals--slick with mucus--fell out your mouth as you coughed your lungs out. they fell almost gracefully onto the small flower pile.

you took fast and shaky breaths, collapsing. you were too exhausted to move, the hanahaki sucking all the life out of you.

--

it had been a week now, and the disease had just gotten worse. at this rate, it would only take a month or two until you suffocated on the fucking marigolds.

you could talk to aventurine, but he would probably just ignore you again.

you could get the surgery, but you would rather die than forget aventurine. you still loved him.

at this point, you couldn't do anything but hope that the disease would just somehow go away.

--

aventurine was growing increasingly worried as the days passed.

he hadn't seen you at all after you had broken up. sure, that was normal, but his gut told him something was wrong.

horrible thoughts of what could've happened to you plagued his mind, and he couldn't take it anymore.

he grabbed his keys, his coat, and headed towards your apartment.

maybe it was an invasion of privacy, but even your friends felt as if something were terribly wrong. he'd just check on you once, and never speak to you again. you'd be okay with that, right?

--

aventurine had knocked about a dozen times by now, but had received no answer.

he swallowed. he still had a spare key to your apartment, but what if you didn't want him to come in? what if you were just busy? what if he was breaching your privacy?

he took a shaky inhale.

fuck it.

--

he stepped inside your apartment, and was hit by the extremely potent smell of marigolds.

he glanced around, and froze at what he saw.

[blujayonthewing]

opening the group chat for the first time today and there's like 200 new messages because everyone's Going Through It today it seems but one of my friends dropped 'I'm separating from [terrible boyfriend she's been living with for like eight years] for real this time, I just moved a bunch of stuff to my parents' and I'm losing my mind because y'all the subject changed almost immediately HEY HI EVERYBODY ELSE SHUT THE FUCK UP I WANNA HEAR ABOUT THAT???

[monster-noises]

I mean, there's most of me that is primarily looking for a Partner, someone to connect with and build a long term relationship.

But there is, at this point, at least a Bit of me, a slowly growing sliver

That would

At the very Least

Like someone to Match with me, on these godforsaken apps, who is very upfrontly like 'lets chat for a few days/ a week or two then go on a Date'

Cause like.. i've never Been on a fuckin Date Before Really.

And maybe I wanna know what it's Like. Maybe having a normal human experience, regardless of how it goes, would make me feel better about the whole..... Thing????? And maybe I would just enjoy it idk!

Maybe it would give me some insight, or the confidence to ask other guys on dates myself so i don't feel like i'm floundering around in the quietest corner of rhe metaphorical Room of the Apps all the time!! It would be cool!! To have even a Modicum of a connection I make from a Dating. App. To be even Remotely Interested in Dating!!!!

Don't get me wrong i've made at least two really great friends from matches on the apps, one of them i Do consider a best friend (hi hello you'll probably see this i hope you know who u are i lov u) but just!!!!

Any amount of Explicitly Forward Romantic Intent Would Be Nice.

I'd Like To Live On The Same Planet As Everyone Else And Experience Normal Human Things Just One Time In My Life Maybe. Perchance. Perhaps. If At All Possible.

And I Knoooooooooooooooow I know that the apps are Bad and I knoooooooow the far superior method is to engage with community activities that would contain like minded people. But my GOD I don't have the time or developed social skills for that! As much as I would Love to!!!

I am Aware.

But that's not the pooooint. That's not the Point.

The point is

I guess

I would just like someone to maybe someday express explicit interest in and attraction too me, and to act on that on Anyway, like it seems Everyone Else Gets To Do, even just a little bit for once.

[britneyshakespeare]

I feel like certain people on Tumblr have really been fighting for backwards progress when it comes to how we talk about mental illness and abuse. I see posts at least several times a week on my dash that seem to have the purpose of implying people with insert-mental-illness and/or insert-symptom are not abusive when they do insert-action-that-makes-people-uncomfortable, often times meaning to promote a more positive image of people with particularly stigmatized conditions, like personality disorders, mood disorders, psychosis, addiction, or neurodivergence. And I really really hate it because these posts almost always have the ultimate purpose of telling people not just "This thing is not inherently abusive," but often it comes across as "You were not abused."

I just find that to be really unhelpful and unintentionally hurtful, and for what? I believe that destigmatizing various mental conditions is a worthy cause, but at the same time this type of rhetoric seems to be so protective of people in whichever stigmatized group they're trying to advocate for, that it comes back around to a sort of respectability politics. Anybody can be an abuser. And someone's means and methods of abusing can very much be influenced by a condition they have. Why wouldn't it be? Their conditions will affect every aspect of their life and their interpersonal relationships. Especially if these issues are going untreated or being insufficiently managed. I don't understand why anyone would want to make it appear as if abusers are mostly neurotypical and mentally well people, or that if they aren't, then their conditions have nothing to do with it and the overlap is merely incidental. What? It makes it so hard for anyone who is a victim to come to terms and identify the dynamics of what they've gone through.

Addicts and mentally ill people don't have to be unproblematic in order to be humanized and accepted. And nobody profits from writing hard and fast rules about how abuse apparently works, drawing clear lines between which behaviors can, and cannot, ever be abuse.

[appalamutte]

What's it called when you match with someone on a dating app and before y'all even start talking you begin planning the wedding. like baby i know you don't know me but what primary color do we want for the ceremony? chocolate or vanilla or the classic red velvet cake?? how many invitations should we send out???

[kurthorton-moving]

.

[ame-to-ame]

Rereading ayaka is in love with Hiroko senpai!!! Last time I read it I don't think it was finished/I didn't finish it but ack. Now I also want to be in love 😭😭😭

[retiredteabag]

Sukuna assimilating to you

Synopsis: After discovering that Sukuna has been wide awake every time you nap together, you become embarrassed around him.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

It is a scientific fact that when we are around people we love and trust, while in a healthy relationship, the release of oxytocin makes us sleepy.

Sukuna does not need sleep. He is the king of curses, able to continuously use his technique without ever becoming exhausted. When you first suggested that his chambers were "perfect for napping", he had simply raised a brow and considered what that could possibly mean.

You are like a weak creature to him. A kitten or perhaps a rabbit. And since you are never safer than when you are in his presence, you frequently find yourself growing sleepy when you are around him.

Throughout your strange relationship with the king, something that you loved most, is that there never needs to be words exchanged between the two of you. You were both contented to sit in silence. Frequently dozing off together, or so you thought.

You caught on eventually, that he was always awake before you. That his breathing pattern never really changed. That his face never relaxed more than it would if he had simply been sitting with his eyes closed.

One morning, after having stayed the night sleeping, you mumbled to him, "How is it you're always awake before I?"

He rose a brow at you, his upper set of eyes were looking into yours, the lower staring at how you lay across his bed sheets.

"I do not know your meaning." He grumbled out.

You huffed, rolling your eyes. "You never sleep in longer than I do, one day I would like to wake up before you."

"I never sleep at all." He stated before you had even really finished your sentace.

"What?" Your breathy outburst echoed slightly in his bed chamber, "What do you mean you don't sleep?"

"I do not require such things." He turned his torso now toward you, all four eyes studying your face, you had quickly sprung up, seemingly miffed.

"So... so all this time, you've just been... laying there while I've been sleeping?"

"I suppose I have, I do not see how this matters in the slightest." "It matters because I've been... It's just been a big waste of time for you. Sukuna you should have said something." You're upset, he can tell. Your face is scrunched up, your blood is pounding in your veins. Sukuna, however, does not know what to say in this situation.

In all honesty, he figured you knew and were just including him. Did you really think he was that weak? Or could you simply not conceive of a restless existence? Whatever the answer, he had no response for you, expecting a shrug of the shoulders- you he would discover, would not so easily let go of things.

And how humiliated you were. How many HOURS had you spent sleeping with him, within his grasp, in his space for him to have been conscious the whole time? You tried thinking back, attempting to recall a time you had requested a nap when he was uninterested.

He had never uttered a word about it. Never turned you down. Sukuna was not a kind king, he rarely ever did things that were not out of necessity, and he certainly did not do things he didn't like. That, at least, was consolation. You knew he had not been suffering for your sake, but even so, it was embarrassing.

Sukuna, still, could not understand your sheepishness about the subject. He did not care to explain that time works differently for him, that his mind is not so simple as yours and does not require entertainment all the time, that he could sit still for years and not be bothered, and frequently did before you came along.

He assumed you would get over it quickly. In your time as well as his. But days passed and he rarely saw you. You took your dinner with other people of the palace and spoke with him in the most cordial manner. One night, he informed Uraume that they needed to prepare a dish suited for you, something that would entice you, and serve it to him.

He figured this would bring you crawling back to him, tail between your legs. Yet, you did not budge.

Odd.

You were wallowing. You knew it. He did not care to spend time, what? Watching you sleep? Of course, he wouldn't, but it hurt your pride, to know you had been taking up such huge chunks of time lazing about in his presence. Well, not anymore. You slept in your chamber and your chamber alone. Gone were the days of blankets on the engawa, gone were the days of resting beneath the kotatsu while laying your head in his lap, gone were the days of sharing his bed.

If ever he wished for someone to share his bed, he had a whole cast of concubines, though you knew they were never of any use to him, they were mostly just house staff with a fancy title.

The evening he finally decided enough was enough, you were in the washhouse doing laundry.

Your back was arched over a bin full of soapy water. Your hands working tirelessly on some cloth.

"Have you not circumvented me enough?" He spoke in a low and slow tone.

"Lord Sukuna." You bowed, clothing in your hands, suds up your forearms, you bent your neck as to not look at him.

"You will reply now." He raised a brow, watching your hands quietly splash in the washbin.

"Was there something you would like me to assist to?" You questioned. Your head was full of possible reasons for what the king meant by seeking you out personally.

"Do you believe that by not sleeping in my presence I would come to believe you do not require rest?" He spoke in an unserious tone, eyes unblinking.

"No, my lord." Now what was he playing at? Of course that wasn't your intention.

"Then you hide yourself from me because you no longer have time for your king, I suppose." He mused.

Oh, for heaven's sake, "No, my lord."

"I see," He bent down to look you dead in the eyes, "So, you must no longer crave my occupancy of your space. You must not desire my hand running through your hair? I suppose you have tired of staying in my chambers?" His tone remained deep but his eyes were dead serious now.

"I-" You began, but suddenly you felt the urge to cough, swallowing you tried again, "I wished not to preoccupy so much of your time."

"And you made this decision without enlightening your king."

You said nothing.

"You will eat with me tonight, you shall stay in my chambers henceforth." He rose in record speed, turning without a second glance your way, maids were staring wide-eyed at the king of curses as he halted at the entrance of the washhouse. You could not see, but there was finality in his voice.

"I wish not to waste-" You were cut off by Sukunas voice, his broad back still facing you.

"Your wishes do not interest me now, so it seems. It is my wish for you to spend your time with me." His steps resounded through the compound, your face slack.

The maids smirked, and with shocked faces, side-eyed one another. A couple entered the washhouse giving you big open-mouthed smiles, and patted your shoulder as they passed.

That night Uraume made something you would go on to beg them to make for years to come. And when Sukuna pulled you prone from your seated position on his bed, he took a firm fingertip and stroked the space between your eyes, one of his enormous hands encircling your skull and massaging your temples with his thumb and ring fingers. He traced the bridge of your nose to your forehead, the way you would stroke a cat.

Perhaps he thought this would induce drowsiness but all it did was make you feel all floaty inside at his silliness.

And for the first time since that night, you slept alongside him. Within his embrace, and when you awoke, Sukuna's eyes were closed.

[foxcassius]

wait also my tags on that post were about people i knew in freshman and sophomore year of college specifically. i mean some of them i knew after that and most of them i knew from high school but damn some people really made everything about themselves when i was being emotionally manipulated in my freshman year

[alexiroflife]

"tears"

fluff for the sukuna fans bc i've been in a soft sukuna mood

ryomen sukuna x reader

Synopsis: sukuna isn't a stranger to arguments with you, but when he catches you crying after a particularly harsh one, he finds himself scrambling to fix it... in his own way

to sum it up: sukuna is an asshole but he loves you, so he tries his best

WC: 3,296

Warning(s): a lil angst

You knew exactly what you were getting into when you first started a relationship with the infamous king of curses, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less when his tendency to be an asshole hurt your feelings. 

You know Sukuna isn’t a sentimental person who cares much for things like verbal reassurance, or consideration for the way the things he says can impact you, or anyone for that matter, but damn! Sometimes, he’s just too much of a jerk for you to handle, and Sukuna himself has no idea why your fragile human emotions sway you to be so affected by him. He doesn’t even think he’s said anything wrong the times in which you grow angry with him.

Now, Sukuna can handle your anger. Anger is good. Anger means that there is something he can react to, something he can tame or involve into your intimacies when he takes your mind off of silly arguments or subdues your attitude over what he deems to be small inconveniences. Anger is the only human emotion that he has felt himself in his many years of existence, so he knows what to expect. He understands it. He’s not, in the slightest, intimidated by it.

But what Sukuna finds he can not handle is the sound of your sniffles that resound from behind your door after you’ve just slammed it into his face. Sukuna angles his brows, pressing his ear to the door in confusion. Are you… cold? Coming down with a fever? What the hell are you sniffing your nose so much for?

Then he hears the meek gasps that intercept, the vocalization of pain that creeps into your weakened inhalations that accompany your damned sniffling. That’s when he realizes that you’re crying, and his pupils shrink slightly knowing that he has gone a little too far this time. 

Hell, how is he supposed to handle you crying? He can’t fuck your sadness away like he can with your irritation. He can’t mirror your sadness, since he has no clue what the hell it’s supposed to feel like. He can’t empathize with it either, for he has no idea what he could have done to bring tears to your eyes and empathy, well, it’s not in his vocabulary to begin with. It’s pathetic, he thinks, the way you have allowed him to bother you this much…

Yet it kills him to know that he’s the reason behind your tears.

He stands there for some time, unsure of what to do. Should he get Uraume to handle this? No, that may make things worse. You may want to be alone.

He turns to leave, but something stops him. He feels an ache in his chest, pressing his hand to his bicep. What the hell? What is this feeling?

He can still hear you crying, and somehow, it sounds like it’s getting worse, louder, or perhaps that is all in his head. He can no longer tell, but that sound you’re making is the only thing occupying his mind, and it’s ruining him. It’s making his chest tighten, his brow furrow, his lips press together tightly. He should leave, but he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to abandon you like this. 

Never once in his life has Sukuna felt remorse. Not even for all the times he has made you angry in the past when you two have had arguments. He is so quick to blame your reactions to things on your feeble human emotions. He is so quick to evade responsibility, or more so, refrain from guilting himself over the things he is responsible for. He is so quick to dismiss you, but it’s always fine because he has never witnessed you grow sad over his behavior, not until now.

Sukuna turns back to your door slowly. His hand flies to grab the handle to throw the door open, but he hesitates. He’s unsure of what’s happening to him, for he’s never hesitated before in his life. This, you crying, him second guessing himself, it’s all so new and he hates it. He needs to fix this immediately. 

What do you humans like when you are upset? There’s a word that’s slipping his mind, one he always hears you pester him for but turns down repeatedly. He had found the concept so irrelevant that he hadn’t even bothered to recall what it’s called.

He crosses his arms and stares ahead harshly in thought, then it comes to him. An apology! Yes, that’s what it is. But of course, you can’t expect him to verbalize such a thing. You must want something as a gift. A physical representation of his desire not to see you cry. He rushes off to locate Uraume for preparations.

About an hour later, you’re curled up on your bed and facing the wall with a blank stare. Your tears stopped a while ago, and since you hadn’t heard from Sukuna, you assumed he just didn’t care about your feelings. Like always.

“Oi,” a gruff voice through the door startles you. You jump and turn over, curling your brows in confusion at the sound of Sukuna’s voice. For a moment, you don’t believe he is speaking to you, so you wait some time to see if he will speak again. “I know you can hear me in there,” his voice sounds again, and you groan.

“Go away,” you tell him, flipping back over.

Sukuna, on the other side of the wall, clicks his tongue in agitation. “Quit your pouting and come open this door.”

“No. Until you learn how to treat me better, I don’t want to see you.”

Treat you better? Sukuna doesn’t understand this nonsense. You live in his large estate, you’re pampered by servants, showered with gifts and homemade meals, you sleep by his side every night, and he allows you to disrespect him far more often than he should. Not to mention, he has his arms full of presents at this very moment that are preventing him from opening the door himself. How can he possibly treat you any better than he’s already treating you?

He growls lowly and closes his eyes in irritation. “If you open the door, your mood will improve.”

“I don’t want anything other than what I just said.”

Sukuna’s eye twitches. Why are you so damn difficult? “What is your-”

“Go. Away.”

Oh. Alright, then. 

You sit up abruptly when Sukuna’s foot breaks in the door with a loud crash. You stare with wide eyes, the door, now off its hinge, creaking open weakly to reveal the king of curses with his arms full of several bouquets of flowers.

“What the fuck, Sukuna?!” you cry. He only stares frustratedly as he walks into the space univinted.

“This was going to go on for too long if I hadn’t done something,” he says, approaching the side of your bed.

“You can’t just- fuck! What is wrong with you?”

Okay… this is already going poorly. 

This is not the reaction he had desired from you, and perhaps he should have revisited the idea of kicking in the door, but he had been growing impatient. Despite his big talk, he doesn’t like when you speak to him in such a cold way. He doesn’t like being separated from you. He doesn’t like not being able to see your face, and after all the work he has just done to collect these plants for you, he can not tolerate being turned away. 

“Must you be so dramatic?” he tsks. “Do you not see what I have brought to you? Don’t you humans like these things?”

You stare at him incredulously, mouth agape. Sukuna can see the tear stains clear on your face, and his heart clenches again. God, why is that sight so abominable? 

He holds his arms out, presenting the flowers to you as if you could have possibly missed them. “They are yours. Take them and be done with this.”

“Be done with what, Sukuna?” you shake your head, face scrunched.

“With your tantrum- your tears, and the sniffles. Be done with them now. Here.”

You scoff. “Do you even know why you're giving these to me?”

Sukuna raises a brow. “To cease your tantrum. As I just said.”

“I can’t with you sometimes, Sukuna. Honestly.” 

“This is really the thanks that I get for bringing you these damn flowers? I thought you were supposed to like things like this. Why would you make me waste my time?”

“If you think it’s a fucking waste of time to bring me flowers, then there’s your problem right there,” you raise your voice, pointing at him accusingly. Sukuna’s face hardens. He thinks you’re getting angry again, but he can still see the sadness behind your eyes. You look almost… defeated. “And if you knew me at all, you’d know that I never cared about any of that stuff. I never cared about the flashiness or the gifts or whatever the fuck.”

Sukuna lowers his hands, letting the bouquets drop carelessly to the floor. “Now you are accusing me of not knowing you?” he seethes. “I’m not sure when you decided that it was acceptable for you to speak to me this way, but I will not tolerate it. I do nothing but dote on you, you ungrateful brat.”

“Yeah, sure, you dote on me, and then you turn around and berate me and call everything I feel stupid because you don’t care to even try to understand why some of the things you say are not okay!”

Sukuna walks closer to invade your personal space, leaning in to glare angrily at you as you do the same. This is what he knows. This is what he chooses to respond to. Not the curl in your brow, not the tremble of your lips, not the unsteadiness of your voice, but your anger. “Why should I care if all you do is whine,” he grumbles. 

You clamp your mouth shut as a lump forms in your throat. Sukuna watches you unravel before him, and while he tries to keep an unmoved expression, he is internally panicking when he sees your eyes gloss over again and your nose flare. 

Shit. He’s supposed to be making you feel better. How has he gone and made things worse again? Why is he incapable of understanding how to be what you want him to be?

You take in a trembling inhale as your hands clench and unclench at your sides. You don’t want him to see you cry. You don’t want him to call you weak, but you can’t help the tear that breaks past your lashes and dashes down your cheek, a physical display of your heartache. 

Sukuna’s crimson eyes fly to the tear, and his brows smooth out against his intent. 

Shit. Shit. Shit.

You’re crying again, and it’s his fault. It’s always been his fault. What is this now that he’s feeling? Regret? Shame? Is that what is clawing at his chest and stripping him of his resolve? Making him wish to replay this entire interaction so that you do not appear before him with tears in your eyes once more? Is this what it is to fall? 

You rub angrily at your eyes and huff, turning away from him and plopping back down on your bed, back facing him. You shut yourself away, close yourself off, and deprive Sukuna of your pretty face for the second time today. “Just leave me alone. You’ve made it perfectly clear that you don’t give a fuck about me or anything, for that matter.”

Sukuna’s eyes widen slightly with the deepening of his frown. That ache he has felt in his chest spreads throughout his body, serving as tension in his back, head, and shoulders. You think he doesn’t care for you? What nonsense. You’re the only being on this planet who has made a millennia of existence worth living, and you think he doesn’t care?

Sukuna can not even pin the blame onto you this time around. He can not accuse you of overreacting, nor can he evade such a thing that is so clearly his doing. He has made you feel uncared for, and while his temper may get out of hand, and his inability to fully comprehend the plagues of the human mind gets in the way, and he never tells you that he loves you, making you feel unloved is the last thing he ever meant to do. 

“Hey,” he mumbles, but you do not move. You cling to yourself for comfort because you do not believe he can provide any for you. “Brat-” he starts, but rethinks. He reaches his hand out to you. “(Y/n). Enough of this.”

“I don’t want to see you right now, Sukuna. Can’t you respect at least that for once?” you croak. 

His hand freezes and he lets it fall. Respect. Understanding. That is what you want from him, and he has not been giving it to you. He has not been giving you anything that you request of him emotionally, for that matter. He has been neglecting your mental needs whilst overpowering you with the physical, and it’s drawn you away from him. 

He could force you to get up. He could drag you by your hair to his bedroom. He could make you look him in the eye, make you stay with him, make you stay silent about this from this point on and forever more. Sukuna has the power and the authority to do so…

But the idea is not appealing. Not in the slightest.

Sukuna wants you happy. He wants you to want to be with him willingly, and if he ignores your consent now of all times, it would be like throwing away the life he has built with you. Throwing away your desires, and Sukuna does not long for a world in which you are any more uncomfortable than you already are. 

He takes a step back, looking over the flowers that he has dropped, and accepts the will of the mortal he fell in love with. 

“I will be in my chambers if or whenever you wish to see me,” he says lowly, giving in. He moves to leave but stops himself once more. He never had stopped himself this much before. “...I apologize for making you cry. I will send someone to fix your door immediately.”

Sukuna is well on his way when he hears you shuffling behind him. He turns, admittedly hopeful for your reaction, and finds you peeking in confusion over your shoulder. “...What did you just say?” you whisper.

The king of curses stalls, looking directly into your eyes from across the room. He feels suddenly… weak. Vulnerable. For the first time, he has relented his power for you to take hold of, and it feels strange to say the very least. “Do you wish for me to repeat myself?”

You sit up slowly, turning around. You knuckle at your red nose, watching him suspiciously. “I do. I may have misheard you.”

He studies you for a moment until he realizes that you are being facetious. “You heard me the first time.”

“Maybe I just want you to say it again.”

Sukuna sighs heavily. “I did not intend to make you cry, nor did I intend to make you feel as though I do not care for you. That is a foolish thought, but I understand I do not convey the depth of my feelings for you the way you wish me to convey it.”

You look dumbfounded as you stare at him in silence. Sukuna clicks his tongue, unsure of how you are going to respond. 

“Quit staring at me and say something, woman.”

“I just… never thought…” you trail off, swallowing harshly. “I never thought you would ever say something like that to me.”

“You will only hear me say such things when you are- when I’ve made you unhappy,” he clarifies firmly. Your nose twitches, an involuntary movement that Sukuna catches and finds entirely too adorable. Your eyes are still damp, but your breathing has evened out. 

“That’s the first,” you quip.

“Enough.”

You press your lips together, glancing at the flowers Sukuna brought you. Just then, you notice that they are your favorite. 

You tell yourself you knew what you were getting into when you first started dating the king of curses, but at times you forget that Sukuna is in fact a demon, and a king at that. He does not believe in any better than what he is.

“You hurt my feelings, Sukuna,” you say softly. “Don’t you get what that means? At least for me?”

“No,” he responds honestly. “But I do see now that you have different needs. And I understand that I refuse to watch you cry if there is something I can do about it.”

You try to remain angry with him. You try to keep yourself distanced, but you can not help the way that you are softening, and Sukuna notices. A hint of a smirk curves at the corner of his lips. 

“Is that all I had to say to make this better?”

“Shut the hell up,” you hiss. “It wouldn’t have killed you to apologize for the hundreds of other times we’ve fought, you know.”

“You weren’t crying the other times, woman.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you roll your eyes. 

Sukuna tilts his head, placing a hand on his hip. “You’re not still upset, are you?”

“Yes,” you pout, and he catches on.

“What is it you want now, to be pampered like a spoiled brat?” 

He makes the suggestion as if to offend you, but the two of you both know that he is hardly making a joke. “What I want is for you to fuck off.”

A chuckle rumbles in Sukuna’s throat as he makes his way over to you. You immediately break and screech when he yanks you forward by your ankle and loops you up into his arms before sitting down on your bed and setting you in his lap. 

He looks you dead in the eye and lifts a rough thumb, swiping stubbornly at your tear stains and your damp lashes. “Crybaby,” he mutters, and you swat his hand away.

“Whatever, asshole.” You push at his chest with weak contempt and he looks at you boredly.

“You’re pitiful,” he grumbles, gripping your chin securely and guiding it to him. His blood red eyes seep into yours, gazing intently. “No more tears, do you understand?”

“Then don’t make me sad.”

“I won’t,” he tells you confidently.

A smile twitches on your lips as you look over him, completely unfamiliar with this side of the king of curses. “Can you do one more thing for me, and then I’ll maybe think about forgiving you?” you bite your lip, pressing your finger to his broad shoulder.

Sukuna grunts. “More demands, huh? I suppose you know how to take advantage of a situation. What more do you want?”

You wrap your arms over his neck. “Tell me how much you care about me,” you sing. 

“Did I not just do so?”

“No, I want you to spell it out. Tell me you love me.”

“I highly tolerate you.”

“Tell me you loveeee me.”

“You are the only human being I do not frown upon.”

“Sukuna.”

“Christ, woman, you’re mine. Isn’t that enough?” he grits his teeth and you snort, patting his cheek gently. 

“For now.”

“Such a pest, you know that?” he mumbles, pushing in swiftly to press his lips firmly to yours in a swift peck. “Don’t ever say I don’t care for you again. It is the most false and offensive thing I have ever heard."