#information again anyway. so I don't fucking care :)
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The Secret Other Thing: KILL
This is my eighth post in a series I’ll be making on how to increase biodiversity on a budget! I’m not an expert--just an enthusiast--but I hope something you find here helps!
KILL, TEAR, RIP, MAIM.
You may have seen this sentiment a few times on gardening and wildlife blogs and been incredibly confused. Isn’t killing things the opposite of what you should be doing to protect habitats? In some cases, it really is necessary!
Invasive Plants
Invasive plants can do more harm than good, taking up space and nutrients and providing little in return to local wildlife--while spreading and choking out the native plants that would provide the most to our native fauna. Learn how to identify invasive species in your area and how to properly dispose of them, and do so whenever you have the opportunity! You may even be able to find volunteer groups/events where you can join up with like-minded people to remove a specific plant from an area.
(This image refers to the United States specifically--these plants aren't invasive or native everywhere!)
Pro tip, though; if you take out an invasive species and leave empty soil where it was, it’s likely another quick-growing invasive species will just move in. We don’t want that! Try to plant something in its place! If you’re going out on a mission to take out invasive plants, try to keep some native flower seeds or seedlings on your person while you do this work.
Different plants are invasive in different places, so be sure that the plant you're targeting is actually invasive to where you are. You don’t want to rip out a beneficial plant because it’s invasive somewhere else! Social media sites like Instagram and Tumblr are great for spreading information about invasive plants, but they can often be a bit… US-centric. Even I'm guilty of this, plenty of times! Plants like garlic mustard, kudzu, butterfly bush, Amur honeysuckle, wild radish, and Japanese knotweed are high-profile invasive plants that I hear about all the time here in America--but they came from somewhere, and are a part of the environment in these places! Likewise, many plants that are branded as pollinator-friendly and biodiversity boosters here in the states can be awful invasive species elsewhere. Even plants and animals that aren’t invasive in one part of a country or continent can be detrimental in another--Canadian waterweed is native to North America, but it’s actually invasive in Alaska.
(Japanese honeysuckle (Lonicera japonica) vs Coral honeysuckle (Lonicera sempervirens) vs the yellow variety of Coral honeysuckle (Lonicera sempervirens))
Be sure you’re taking out the right plant--be very confident in your ID before you take any action! Amur honeysuckle and Japanese honeysuckle, for example, may be invasive in the US--but coral and northern bush honeysuckles are native and key species in their environments. You don’t want to do harm while trying to do good--double check your IDs. Being certain with your IDs can also prevent you from doing harm to yourself and others--some plants produce toxic smoke when burned. Stay well-read on how to dispose of the invasive plants you’re targeting.
(Garlic mustard pesto! Can't say I've ever had it, but I've heard good things about it online!)
With that being said! Some invasive species can be eaten. It’s free food! And you’re helping the environment? Win-win! Try looking up recipes that use these plants, or see how you can substitute something else for them! Foraging guides and blogs would likely be extremely helpful for this.
A super easy way to help curb the spread of invasive plants is to not grow them yourself! Double check any plant you’re considering buying or growing from seed--some sold in stores like butterfly bush are often touted as great plants to add to a pollinator garden, but in reality are an invasive species that eagerly displaces native shrubs here in the states.
POV: you're working the garden center at the Blue Big Box Store, you care about the environment, and every day you watch people buy Butterfly Bush and can do jack shit about it asides from try to gently steer them towards something else (but the other next best option was also Invasive Tropical Milkweed because its easier for Big Box Store to sell) I have a personal vendetta against people who grow Butterfly Bush (I live in The States) (If you didn't know Butterfly Bush was invasive in the US before now you're valid but also please god consider replacing it with an alternative ASAP)
Invasive Animals
POV 30 to 50 feral hogs are running into your yard within 3-5 minutes while your small children play
Invasive animals and insects compete for resources, take over habitat, and can even spread disease--all while pushing native species out or dwindling their numbers. Keep track of invasive animals you see and report them. Depending on the severity of the situation, killing them can be necessary and even encouraged. Do be sure it’s an invasive species and not a look-alike. If you’re unsure, take pictures, do research, and take action the next time.
Some high-profile invasive species in the US are spotted lanternflies, cuban tree frogs, hammerhead worms, feral swine, zebra mussels, lionfish, asian carp, burmese python, and others. Again, do make sure you’re targeting species that are invasive in your area; I doubt Asian carp are considered invasive in Asia, for example. Similarly, the American bullfrog is native to the eastern US and Canada, but is quickly becoming an invasive species around the rest of the world. Not to mention, the racoon problem in Japan…
Some invasive species can be eaten as well! Some of them taste awful, and some can even be dangerous to eat or handle without caution. I would do a good amount of research online before trying to cook up just anything.
Doing it Right
If you’re trying to handle invasive species, you do have to ensure you’re doing it properly. As you do your research, you’ll likely see if the species should be photographed and reported and to what channels. Also in some cases, going about destroying them incorrectly could unintentionally help them spread--some plants spread quickly through rhizomes into disturbed soil, and hammerhead worms can actually regenerate from pieces into fully-developed new worms when you try to cut them up. Some invasive species are even actively harmful to humans, so I cannot emphasize enough that you need to be sure about what you’re dealing with and be careful about it. Giant Hogweed, for example, has toxic sap that’ll cause severe skin inflammation and painful blisters if it contacts skin and is exposed to sunlight. The blisters last for months, and the skin may develop long-term sensitivity for sunlight.
If you’re unsure about how to handle an invasive plant, or are unsure of it’s identity, try contacting your local university co-op extension service if you’re in the states. They can tell you how to remove it safely and effectively. I can't say for sure what other channels would be the best option for someone living outside the states, so if anyone knows, feel free to chime in!
Pets
POV: ur little outdoor kitty Firestar is destroying the balance of your local ecosystem plz keep him INSIDE
Please keep your pets inside, or at least on a leash. An outdoor cat can do a lot more damage than one might imagine, as well as unrestrained dogs.
That’s the end of this post! And... technically, the last post in the series! My next and final final post is gonna be basically a giant list of all my sources that I used to make this post! I hope this post series was informative, helpful, interesting--anything of value, really! Feel free to reply with any questions, your success stories, or anything you think I may have forgotten to add in!
#biodiversity#solarpunk#gardening#invasive species#ani rambles#out of queue#the biodiversity saga#i wasn't sure where to add this in on the post but not all non natives are invasive and some native plants have sorta invasive-y habits#i dont remember the proper term that isn't just 'invasive-y' but yknow.#with that being said I tend to do a quick google search to make sure a plant I wanna buy isn't invasive before I add it to my garden#with that being said fuck big box stores STOP SELLING INVASIVE PLANTS I SWEAR TO GOD I DONT CARE IF THEY'RE POPULAR STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT#someday I will go on an entire unhinged rant about tropical milkweed#ive already done it before but I'm willing to do it again fuck it#anyways!!!! this is the last post if you don't wanna read Collection Of Links: The Musical so uh#hope this was a nice series with helpful information!! love yall byeeee
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I think..... I think I'm just gonna go to bed?
and - ideally - wake up around 8 to try again. I'm so tired, my head hurts, I'm just. not doing anything useful anyway.
my brother is gonna come over again tomorrow to help me read through everything I've got and stuff like that, so hopefully I'll be done by then. but if not, well, I just have to get it done by Thursday. early enough to get it printed. but. yeah. it'll work out somehow
#lets just say... I'm still opposed to ai in most contexts and I'd never use something like chatgpt for this stuff but#there's useful tools that make reading articles way faster and it's the only thing that's saving me rn :)#yeah yeah I hate myself etc. who cares it's whatever#I'm studying business and I won't work in this field and I'm not getting any more degrees so I will literally never need any of this#information again anyway. so I don't fucking care :)#personal#now how much leverage can I watch before I fall asleep. that's the important thing here
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I understand 100% of nothing
#my plans for today were coming home straight from work and taking a nap before my doctor's appointment#instead they involved staying an extra hour at work because there was chaos with my first years#some of them were being absolute shitheads to one of their classmates who's adopted and has two dads#and a coworker made me reconsider my entire understanding of the universe by informing me that the former principal that i thought the#world of and who made me fall in love with teaching again is apparently being an asshole to everyone now because she quit (on purpose.#because she wanted to. because she became a school inspector) and the school has a new principal#which like?????? what did you think was going to happen???????#what did you expect us to do??????#what do you mean you care more about your own ego than about the children you taught me should be the center of everything we do#i don't even know how to begin processing anything that happened today#and my coworker was a shithead too on top of everything else cause she was like what school are you working at???? how come you don't know#any of this????#WELL WAS IT ON THE NEWSPAPER CAROL#how the hell was i supposed to know no one fucking told me#and I'm upset that no one bothered to inform me the school and therefore us as teachers are apparently under attack#i don't need the stupid gossip but someone should have told me I'm apparently working under hostile circumstances and parents may randomly#decide to pick on me#I'm just so mad at everyone grown ups are the fucking worst kids are absolutely right#anyway i didn't need to see my therapist about my parents being assholes but i need to talk to her after this#alex txt
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you're talking shit for the hell of it. and we see you over there on the internet, comparing all the girls who are killing it. but we figured you out, we all know now, we all got crowns, you need to calm down. I've got a list of names and yours is in red, underlined. Mr. Superior Thinking... no, I don't like you. no one likes a mad woman - you made her like that. I can feel the flames on my skin. you did some bad things but I'm the worst of them. maybe I got mine, but you'll all get yours. I'm shaking my head and locking the gates. this is why we can't have nice things. seeing the shape of your name still spells out pain. sometimes I wonder which one'll be your last lie. now I breathe flames each time I talk. do you still feel like you know what you're doing? because I don't think you do. all you are is mean! and a liar! and pathetic! and alone in life and mean!
and you didn't see me here.
#I regret to inform you that I'm not doing some webweaving thing here this is literally a personal vent post lololol#can't wait until I get to the IFTYE of this situation. is it even possible? will I have to stop caring about the positive things too??#(also yes this is about the same person/people I'm always angry about and no it doesn't make sense for me to be this angry)#(and again don't ask because I don't even want to spread the knowledge of what this is about)#tumblr has been very good for me and also very bad for me this time around#isn't that always the way#I am just SO MAD because I tried to google to see if an article existed online#instead all I got was that fucking POST#and I didn't look too much but I did hold my nose and check the notes this time which led to unfortunate new revelations#also don't tag your hate. geez.#anyway I swear I will never click on that link again because it's pure self-sabotage. but at least I KNOW now#here is a positive lyric: they might be bigger! but we're faster and never scared!#my original post
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I'm very tired, I have to do everything around the house myself (as in, I keep having to turn the water off and on to the kitchen sink until I teach myself to install a new faucet, and negative cleaning gets done if I don't do it), and the money is in the hands of the third worst person in the whole family when it comes to money (the worst being my grandpa who is dead, and my grandma who blows all her money on overpriced jackets and other junk)
I'm very tired, I have to teach myself how to do everything, and I have almost literally no support in any way shape or form ever
I can't remember the last time anyone said they were proud of me... I don't actually know if anyone's ever used that word with me before. When I do something like get the trailer cleaned out or buy a house, frankly no one gives a fuck, except my grandma who gets mad
I haven't actually had a chance to see anyone that counts as a friend in like 15 years, and I mean even in high school everyone liked me but no one could be bothered to actually ever even talk outside school... so even back then it's not like I had anyone I was close with
I'm providing this version where I totally remove how I feel or how I view myself from the description and instead try to provide something close to an objective description of things
So if you wonder why I say what I say about myself, honestly I think it's pretty much all summed up here
#mm tag so i can find things later#also this is why you can maybe piss off instead of coming around here and saying I should get off the internet and go to therapy#in spite of how morose I am; I'm actively working to fix this stuff by... at least learning more of the skills I need#like... learn to replace a faucet; then at least I don't have the sink issue weighing me down#and maybe if I fix enough of it someday things'll be ok#although... in my mind no matter what I do I'll still be alone and unlovable; but that's just a description of how I view things#regardless of how I may feel; I am trying to do stuff to fix how I feel by trying to fix my situation#so like... if you're gonna come here and tell me I need to fix my mental health#may I respectfully say either you can lend me a hand or maybe you should mind your own business#cause what the fuck do you think I'm trying to do?#not that anyone will read this or particularly care#not trying to be rude or something; just extrapolating past data to make a prediction#it's not that people here don't care or don't like me; it's just we're all busy with our own lives and no one really knows what to do#well I'm... I'm trying to write you a guide; I'm asking for help here#...to an extent it's totally fine if no one helps... but you kinda don't get to go around acting like you love being asked for help#I mean... you do; it's your life... but I'm just saying... this is me asking for help... yet again#but I expect nothing because that's what usually happens#I really don't mean to... to imply anything about anyone else; it's just descriptively I don't get help and I don't get support#and... based on all the information I have my model for the outcome of this says no one will even notice it#that tag of mine of things I can find later or whatever... it has me outright saying a number of things#...no one ever hears or listens#anyway; there it is... another pointless cry for help#...don't say I didn't warn you when I wind up killing myself one day#probably not anytime soon; maybe not ever... all I'm saying is don't pretend you didn't see it coming or like I didn't reach out#at least... as best I could... maybe I could have done better#like sure; could I walk up to specific people and say 'I need you to do this'; sure...#but I find... I find people just ignore it if I say that too#so I've given up; you know?#this is the best I can muster#don't say I didn't tell you
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Finally finished Las Pelotaris and went on the tag and OMG I can't fucking beLIEVE that yet again there is not a single gifset of Chelo and her pretty pretty face even though her character had the best denouement out of all of them by actually being allowed to kill her abusive fuckwad of a husband and watch as his body was eaten by pigs (queen shit). I also can't believe the level of simping over Itzi with a woman who apparently loved her SoOOOooOO much that she easily believed she killed her husband just from a signature on a typewritten confession. Ugh I'm so mad at this show like it started off so good then was utterly terrible in the middle and the finale was actually enjoyable (if majorly stressful) because for the first time all season the three lead characters (+ Rosa, the true MVP of this show) were in the same country and interacting with each other. I will always be a sucker for scenes of female bonding over killing/disposing of trash men or helping each other do it. I also can't believe that the prospect of a season 2, no matter how grim it is, does not entirely displease me because at least the four of them would be all together and I would really enjoy watching them deal with this new shitty situation. But alas, I highly doubt there will be a second season, and if there is, they'd find a way to ruin it the same way they mishandled everything after episode 3 give or take. And I would have to continue watching Itzi pine over a woman who chose to believe the worst of her. Itzi, mi amor, love yourself!!!!!!
#are y'all on vix's payroll though serious question#I can't be the only one whose head hurts from all the plotholes#I mean you know you've fucked up an f/f storyline when the deaths of their respective husbands are more upsetting than them breaking up#like deadass the episode where allan died made me wanna stop watching it was so fucking stupid#the only reason I finished it was because 1) I had already paid for the subscription (don't worry I promptly cancelled it after finishing)#and 2) so I could go on the tag after finishing it without missing any information#and the only way I would consider watching season 2 is if rosa was bumped to series regular because WHAT A DELIGHT#get you a friend who sleeps with your husband but then helps you dispose of his body after you snap and murder him#and then helps procure a body to pass off as your husband so you can get your personal bank accounts unfrozen#she is the definition of ride or die I love her so much#(on the bright side I thought the tag would also be overrun with idoia gifsets but there are also none so... thank god for small wins#again if you want me to root for the 'damaged only-looks-out-for-herself' character you need to give her ONE redeemable quality smh#what screenwriting workshop were the writers plucked from lmao)#ANYWAY I am finally done text me if there's a season 2 so I can consider my options#thoughts no one cares about
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"What do you mean you don't remember your first kiss?" Eddie asked, giving Steve that look he always got whenever he made the mistake of mentioning that piece of information about his past.
Steve shrugged, feeling uncomfortable and hoped Eddie would drop it. "I just don't remember it. Guess it wasn't memorable."
Eddie rolled his eyes, "You're telling me your first kiss wasn't memorable?"
"Yeah, man. It's whatever."
Now, both Eddie and Steve knew that was a lie. Not that Steve necessarily cared about something like a first kiss, but it bothered him that everyone seemed to have either a funny or sweet story to tell.
Like how Robin's first kiss had happened under a tree with her first girl crush, or how Nancy's first kiss only happened because the guy was kind of scared of her, or how Jonathan's first kiss only happened with Nancy.
"Do you remember yours?" Steve asked and Eddie nodded instantly.
"Of course I do."
Steve raised a brow at him and Eddie chuckled.
"It wasn't anything special, really. I kissed a guy under the bleachers and he never spoke to me again after that, the end."
Eddie was using that voice he always used whenever something bothered him.
"So it wasn't good," Steve said as he placed his hand on top of Eddie's. What was worse, not remembering your first kiss or feeling like shit about it?
"The kiss was ok. It was barely a kiss, I had no idea what to do with my hands and tongue and it was a little weird. Nothing to write home about, that's for sure. But I lost a friend that day and it really sucked. It made me think kisses are more powerful than they have any right to be."
And wasn't that the truth? Steve remembered other first kisses. Like his first kiss with Nancy, that he thought was gonna be the last first kiss of his life. He was wrong about that, of course.
"I know what you mean," Steve said. His hand was still on top of Eddie's but now Eddie was smiling.
And then he was grinning.
"I have an idea," he said, looking like a maniac. And Steve knew that couldn't be a good thing.
"Should I be scared?"
Eddie laughed. "Probably. What if..."
"Yeah?"
"We kissed."
Time seemed to stop for a second and then Steve was frowning at Eddie.
"What?"
"Yeah! Think about it, Steve," Eddie said, getting up. He always got restless when his brain started to work in full power. Steve thought it was kind of cute. "You can pretend this was your first kiss, so then when people tell you you can picture it and just make up some story about it."
Steve raised a brow, "I'm pretty sure that's not how first kisses work. Plus, what's in it for you? You remember your first kiss."
Eddie shrugged, throwing himself back on the couch and landing much closer to Steve than he was before. "Sure. But then I can will my brain to understand kisses don't have to mean something. This could just be a friendly kiss between two friends. Nothing else."
For some reason that didn't seem right, but Steve nodded anyway.
"Ok."
Eddie's eyes widened. "Ok?"
"Yeah, ok. Let's kiss and see what happens," Steve said. "What?"
Eddie bit his lower lip, "I don't know. I just didn't think you were gonna say yes."
Steve laughed, throwing his head back. Classic Eddie. His mouth was too big for his own good. Steve fucking loved it.
"Well, that's ok. I'll help you," Steve said, leaning in close.
He could see Eddie's eyelashes and the way his cheeks were tinted red. Steve placed a hand on the nape of his neck and heard the exact moment Eddies's breath hitched in his chest.
"Is this ok?" he asked. Eddie might talk a big talk but Steve wasn't about to cross any boundaries. If he said he was just joking Steve would pull back and pretend it had never happened.
But Eddie didn't, so Steve stayed. Close to him but still not kissing him.
"Y-yeah," Eddie said, nodding slightly. Steve smiled and buried his hand on Eddie's hair before leaning in and pressing their lips together.
The kiss was slow and sweet and Eddie was pliant on Steve's hand. For all his attitude, Steve kind of liked to shut him up like that.
Steve was about to pull back when Eddie whined in the back of his throat and pulled him close by the waist. He had no idea where all that came from but before he noticed he was straddling Eddie's lap and kissing him like his life depended on it.
Eddie tasted like cigarettes and Mountain Dew and Steve thought that combination might be his new favorite. He was so responsive as he kissed Steve back, opening his mouth and letting Steve explore as much as he wanted and all that while holding on to his hips.
Steve liked how Eddie's hands curled around him. Like they belonged there.
When it was becoming clear neither of them was interested in stopping, Steve pulled back so he could look at Eddie's face. All he could see was the pure want in his eyes.
"That's a pretty nice first kiss," Steve said playfully and Eddie snorted, squeezing at his waist.
"Oh, sweetheart. I'm glad," Eddie smiled at him and it was the greatest thing ever. "I can't say the same for my part of the deal though."
Steve frowned. "What do you mean?"
Eddie let his head fall back into the couch and closed his eyes. Steve felt his heart hammering in his chest. Had Eddie hated the kiss?
When he opened his eyes there was an intensity behind them that made Steve want to get up and run.
"I can't pretend it doesn't mean anything, Stevie."
Oh.
Before he knew it, Steve was leaning in and stealing another kiss from Eddie's lips. This time when they parted Steve didn't bother moving too far from him.
"Then don't."
#steddie#idk#I just had a thought and ran with it#first kiss#steve harrington#Eddie munson#stranger things#ficlet
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DISAPPEARING ACT . rindou often disappears for weeks at a time, showing up at home as if it's nothing. a brief exchange triggers a factory reset in him, but you're not as open to it as he expected you to be...
prompt used "better than me disappearing for good. / is it?"
with married!rindou + fem!reader
warnings cursing. a lot of cursing. angst? rindou is an idiot and possessive.
you never got to see your husband anymore. so much so that you considered the chance of it happening next to nothing. you knew what you were getting into being in an relationships with him; lots of meetings and flights to other cities all meant extended time away from home.
you would've been a little more forgiving had he chosen to tell you these things. but no. morning after morning, you wake up to him gone without a trace, without consideration for how you feel. was he alive? was he with someone else? did he not care enough to call or even send a text?
it was as if you lived alone, and a stranger crashed at your place every once in a while. and while you shared polite exchanges, no amount of small talk could overshadow how bleak your marriage was.
it was eleven days before he showed up again. you were, surprisingly, awake when he returned. he was perfectly groomed, albeit a little jaded, but still regarded you with the same coldness you endured since he started leaving. you missed the warmth of your younger days, where he would hold you close and reassure you that you were meant for each other for life.
you decided today was as good a day as any. heck, he even might be gone tomorrow and it would be like you didn't say anything.
"i'm tired of you disappearing for days and then coming back like it was nothing." you said plainly.
he slipped out of his shoes, looking down at you. rolling his eyes lightly but sighing heavily, he started to pull off his tie. "better than me disappearing for good."
a wry smile spread on your face. oh, if he only knew. "is it?"
those two words sent an arrow straight through his heart.
rindou was silent, pretending as if he didn't hear what you just said. but when you scoffed and walked away, he knew it was too real for him to overlook.
"you don't mean that." it was less of a question and more of a please, don't mean it.
you shrugged and went back to your phone, too benumbed to even look at him.
he stared at you, utterly confused as to how to tackle this. "y/n." he said firmly.
you slowly raised your head to meet his eyes, void of any care. "what?"
"i said, you don't mean that." he stood like a tree in the middle of the living area, palms growing sweaty. he loved you. he couldn't lose you, not when you both went through so much to get here.
"don't i?" you responded, placing your phone beside you. not like i see you anymore, anyway. what's the difference?
"stop fucking talking like that and answer me." he snarled. you rolled your eyes, rising to your feet.
"look, rin. who the fuck cares what i think or say? certainly not you." you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "just—just forget i said anything." you turned towards your bedroom. "goodnight."
wait. he lunged forward, grabbing your arm and spinning you around to face him, backing you against a wall. caging you with arms on either side of you, he stared into your soul, hoping to get some sort of reaction out of you.
you just stared back.
his heart clenched. yeah, he was away for weeks at a time. of course he didn't tell you. why would he? why would he burden you with that information?
"you really think me going away forever is better?" his voice was a whisper, but held the sharpness of a knife. "huh? you want me gone forever?"
you sighed. "i didn't say i wanted that. i just meant that, either way, it doesn't matter. going away forever, going away for weeks and weeks but only staying for a night..." your eyes met his, glossy but fierce. "it's the same to me. i don't care what the hell you do anymore, rindou. just let me go to bed."
he studied the person he truly loved for so long, wondering when it all went downhill.
you were impatient, ducking under his arms. "shit..." you cursed, rubbing the back of your neck as you walked away.
he watched you go. and he never saw you come back.
the next morning he woke up, expecting to see you in the kitchen or watching tv, but his house was empty.
"y/n?" he called out. no answer. he pulled up his phone. no texts, no calls. he bustled around the house, looking for some indication of where you went and he found nothing.
he called his brother, thinking that he was the next best person you would've gone to, but ran had no contact from you.
rindou sat on the couch, nothing to do but sit and wait. he looked around. everything was well-kept, pristine, and sanitized. it was like no one lived here at all. no one except a lonely spouse in an eternal cycle of wait for a husband that wouldn't even give them the time of day to say, i'm heading out.
i love you.
goodbye.
he leaned back, closing his eyes. he doesn't even say goodbye.
he hated himself for it.
hours passed and he didn't move from the couch. he knew you sat there for much longer, day after day, waiting for him. no wonder you were uncaring. coming home meant nothing if he would simply leave again.
then he heard the click of the door. he practically jumped off the couch, racing over to the entrance. he saw you with a couple groceries hooked on your forearms, struggling to keep the door open long enough for you to slip inside.
he rushed over. yanking the door open with such force, it slammed into the wall causing you to jump. rindou winced a little, steadying the door from swinging wildly.
you eyes met his and your face immediately scrunched with confusion. "what are you doing here?"
"well... it's my house..?" he said dumbly.
you pressed your lips into a line. "hm."
you expected me to be gone again, he thought bitterly. he cleared his throat. "let me help you with these," he alleviated the weight off your arms, bunching up a couple bags and carrying them all in one go. "you know, you could just order them for delivery."
you sidestepped him and walked to the kitchen. "why would i do that?"
"so you can have them brought to you from the comfort of your home." he responded lightly. following robotically, he was unsure where everything was supposed to be put away.
you laughed, catching him off-guard. on closer inspection, though, he knew that wasn't a genuine laugh. "rindou, do you think i want to stay in this place any more than i have to?"
you said it so casually, grabbing a bag from him and stocking the cabinets and fridges.
his stomach swirled with much more unease than he'd ever experienced on the job. it was the way you simply didn't care anymore, talking about the rift between you and him as if you were reciting the weather report.
fight me, he wanted to say. kick, yell at me, scream at me, do anything at all to show me you're upset. he knows he fucked up. you definitely know he fucked up. so why weren't you telling him that? why weren't you cursing him out for being a bad husband? your nonchalance came from a long time being cast aside, so much so that you expected it to happen; so much so that you gave up on him.
indifference was the final nail in the coffin of your marriage, and you were about to bang it shut.
he observed you, thinking about how many times you'd busy yourself with mundane errands to feel like you were living. how many times you'd come back to this flat, putting away shit you'd probably never touch. how many times you'd listen to the silence ringing off the walls.
he set the bags down and held your shoulders, turning you to face him. "i've taken the next few days off."
you smiled insincerely. "great."
rindou felt like a kid again, when he had work up enough courage to ask you out. "we... we could spend them together."
your eyes squinted. "why?"
he spluttered. "what do you mean, why?"
you swatted his hands off your shoulders. "god, i shouldn't have said anything," you mumbled. "rindou, this is just you feeling guilty because of what i said last night, okay?"
he frowned. "it's not."
your eyebrows raised as you rummaged through another grocery bag. "it is. don't pretend like you're gonna change. what did you think we were going to do—go out together? like old times, when we were happy and in love?"
his face burned. anyone else—if it were anyone else speaking so flippantly with him, he'd have them beat til they're unconscious. and past tense? when we were in love? his brain was doing backflips trying to find a way to salvage the situation. "yes."
you laughed that fake laugh again. it grated on his ears. "that's funny. i was just feeling a little vulnerable last night, is all. had a couple of drinks and maybe was feeling sentimental about the days when everything was simple."
rindou stepped closer to you, ripping the bag away from your hands and towering over you. "it is simple. we can—"
"we can't do anything." you curled your hands into fists, your voice trembling. "can you just..?" go away?
rindou's breath caught in his chest, fully anticipating another heartless laugh.
he hated it when you cried. he hated it when you were angry. he would do anything for your eternal happiness, he realized, and he'd been falling short of his promises for far too long.
rindou leaned onto the counter, bending at the waist. his hand rested on your waist and his eyes were laser focused on your expression, a confusing mix of frustration, sadness, and the will to remain emotionless.
"baby," he whispered.
"don't fucking call me baby." you hissed.
he pursed his lips, unwilling to compromise. "pretty baby. i don't wanna go on like this." his fingers brushed your cheek. "i don't want to you to be sad anymore."
"well, isn't that righteous." you rolled your eyes though your heart ached. it ached for him, for the boyfriend he was and the husband he promised to be.
he glared at you. "would you just listen?"
"no, rindou." you shoved him away from you, despite the overwhelming urge telling you to pull him in and hug him tight. "stop acting like i'm the one making things difficult. like you're being a fucking saint trying to bring us back together when the only reason we're like this is because of you." your voice became watery, growing in volume as you finally succumbed to all the hurt and pain inside you.
"i tried to be understanding." you sobbed. "i did. i tried. you have your work and i know that it's dangerous. but seriously—you promised you'd make time for me. you promised." you sniffed, rubbing tears off your cheeks, ranting without any goal in mind. "you don't even say goodbye."
he stood frozen, your emotions hitting him square in the face and leaving him dazed. it was like the only thing he could do was stand and watch.
"i didn't want to do this." you said tearfully. "i'm sorry i said anything, okay? i'm sorry. just—leave me alone."
his eyes narrowed. "never. i'm never leaving."
your glassy eyes shot up to meet his with a hard look of their own.
"i love you, y/n. and i'm never letting you go." he said firmly, stepping closer and closer to you. he was done beating around the bush; you should know that no matter how many times you push him away, he will never leave you. he'd make up for his mistakes; all you had to do was give him a chance.
you scoffed. "love? you love me?"
he caged you against the opposite counter with two arms on either side of you. "yeah. i do."
you stared up at him, tears staining your cheeks. "you're a liar."
"y/n." he growled—a warning.
"can't go back into the world having the poor little wife weighing on your conscious, is that it?" you snapped. "never stopped you before."
"y/n."
"no." you ducked under his arm, leaving the kitchen. you evaded his attempts to pull you back, running to the closet. grabbing a coat and your purse, you slipped on your shoes.
"where the fuck are you going?" rindou yelled after you. "this conversation isn't over."
"it is for me." you mumbled, throwing the front door open and ignoring the fire in the pit of your stomach. you got into your car and started it up. the garage opened at an agonizing pace, enough time for rindou to come bursting out the door. he stood at your window.
"y/n, you are not leaving. get out of the car."
"fuck off." you grit your teeth, your eyes raising to the rearview mirror to reverse. you screeched to a halt when you saw rindou's purple hair in the reflection. you gaped, rolling down your window and whipping your head to face him. "are you insane? move!"
he shook his head, standing in all his glory right behind the car. his arms were crossed and his weight rested on one hip; the picture of stubbornness. "you're gonna have to run me over."
you scoffed, laughing breathlessly at the absurd situation. "i'll call the police."
"you won't."
you grabbed your phone. "i will, don't try and stop me from leaving."
"you won't call the police, and you wanna know why?" rindou let his head fall to his shoulder. "you love me. i know you do."
you opened your mouth to retort.
"don't even try to deny it." he chuckled lowly. "you're just protecting yourself, baby. you're protecting yourself from the nightmare you call a husband, right?"
your eyes rounded, looking at him with an unreadable expression.
he walked to your side of the car, reaching through the opening to flick the window button. he slipped his hand out as it began to slowly slide back up.
"leave, then. just know i'm not going to stop my efforts to get you back." he smiled as he went back into the house.
the window closed completely.
you were brimming with annoyance, yet you couldn't help but feel a pang of heartache when you pulled out of the driveway, leaving your house—and rindou—behind.
this was so self-indulgent lol. i know they mean well, but when people apologize so quickly and with such intensity, i just get frustrated that i had to get to such a low point to see any remorse or change from them. and of course, i can't argue without crying my eyes out.
anyway, do we want a part two?
© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3
#rindou haitani#rindou haitani x reader#rindou x reader#rindou imagines#rindou#haitani#tokyo revengers angst#rindou haitani angst#rindou angst#haitani brothers#haitani rindou#haitani rindou x reader#haitani x reader#tokyo revengers x reader#bonten#bonten x reader#bonten rindou
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❝ I WANT THE YOU WHO WANTS ME AGAIN ❞
Gojo Satoru x male!reader | angst, unrequited love, arranged marriage, some comfort, in the end, | wc: 4.5 K | not proofread
warnings: death of a parent through sickness (unspecified), cheating (gojo with geto), r! goes through it (lmao), megumi is rooting for r!
masterlist; part 1; part 2; part 3; alternate ending; playlist; au's and what if's
Perhaps at one point in your arranged marriage, you had loved Satoru but that’s all but vanished away when you see how he looked at Geto.
Still, you provide comfort to your husband when he seeks you even if his six eyes (and soul) all bear to you that he does not see you.
Satoru realizes too late that he cares for you - that he loves you. He despises your empty stare, he wants you back. He desperately wants you back.
authors note: i know i said i was taking a break but writing this made me feel a little bit better — cathartic almost. it's been in the drafts since last year anyways so might as well. (autumn leaves by bts inspired fic)
It seemed as though even the clouds were pitying the sight before it. Grey and darkened, they gathered to block the sun as whispers of doubt combed through the trees surrounding the temple — they reach your ears despite the attempts of your mother.
"Now, don't you look handsome". She tucks a stray lock of your hair behind your ear, pursing her lips at the look in your eyes.
"(Y/N)".
Her hands grasp at your face. The warmth of someone's hands on your cheek jitters your brain awake, and your pupils contract back into focus.
"Have you been eating well, darling?"
For a moment, your heart squeezes at her kind words. It's been so long since another had asked you that question so sincerely. The tears well but your hair sways as you shake your head, urging your cheeks to form a smile.
"I'm alright, mom. Just getting over a cold". She brushes her thumb over your cheek then presses a kiss to your forehead.
"My son". You're pulled into an embrace and suddenly you're little again — clinging to her after she had bandaged you up from your training session. Your eyelashes darkened as tears slip past them, hands trembling as you grip her tightly.
"My beautiful son".
Eventually, the sun sets but the rain continues to pour. The sounds of the raindrops are violent, accompanied by flashes of lightning and thunder it seemed as though the Gods were angry.
Angry Gods do little to scare your father. He gazes at you coldly from where your head is laid upon your mother's lap. Defiantly, you avoid meeting his eyes as you relish in the fingers smoothing out your hair.
"Your husband will not be pleased with this," your mother's glare is reproachful. "Our son has come to pay us a visit, his husband needn't worry about him," his nostrils flare and he looks as though he's about to go on another rant about image, expectations, manners, servitude.
But before he could, the shoji door slides open. It's one of the servant girls, her bow immaculate you could see the swirl pattern of her hair growth.
"Gojo Satoru has arrived, Master (L/N)" She's addressing your father, you know because you are now Master Gojo. The air is filled with expectations. The rain does little to muffle it.
Pitying her back, you rise from your mother's lap.
"Inform my husband I'll be out in a moment" She bows deeper and straightens her composure to slide the door close but freezes as you address her.
"Is my husband alone?"
When her mouth opens to form the syllables of Geto Suguru your eyes turn to the floor. You're unsure if she's finished her sentence but find very little fucks to give as you silence her with raise of your hand.
Wordlessly, she bows and closes the door.
"Ah, husband!" he slings his arm around your shoulder. His weight, his warmth, his presence — too casual it's an insult. You cared little for tradition, scoffing at it sometimes, but the way Satoru displays himself in front of your parents causes you to grit your teeth.
Suguru shoes are in the peripheral of your vision, you will your gaze to the side.
Once upon a time, the four of you were friends.
Satoru, Suguru, Shoko and you.
Those blue summers and warm winters as first-year sorcerers. Memories so bright and heartfelt others probably only see on movie screens.
Then you were betrothed to Gojo Satoru, family stuff, expectations and duty, and everything the both of you roll your eyes at.
A part of you had been elated. Blinded by the idea of marrying the boy your heart beats for. Sure, falling in love would have been preferred but despite the arranged marriage, you were thick as thieves.
So, in your foolish daydreams, you'd sigh at the idea of you two falling in love.
Shoko could only watch as your dreams crumble before you. She tried her best to be some sort of support — shocked when she spotted you smoking her cigarettes after a year into the marriage.
"I never noticed the way they look at each other". Your words follow the stream of smoke and Shoko settles next to you with her elbows placed on the railings.
"I mean, I knew but I just thought...I just thought he'd look at me the same one day". She is silent as you curl over the railing, shoulders jerking with silent sobs.
"How foolish, huh?" She places a hand on your back, saying nothing as you wept.
Suguru greets your parents with more tact than your husband who is smiling ear-to-ear.
"How was your mission, Gojo, Geto?" the way their surnames sounded made your jaw ache as you continued locking your jaw. Your husband is squeezing you to his side, like a friend.
Satoru feels your shoulders stiffening and he loosens his grip to look down at you but you slip out from under him and hastily walk towards the car.
"Young Master —" a servant gasps as he attempts to match your pace, the umbrella he holds barely shielding you as you feel your tears mix with the rain.
"(Y/N)!" Suguru calls, catching up to you with his own umbrella and you feel searing guilt stab at your chest. Suguru had never been mean to you — he's been there for you through the years and despite your sudden avoidance of him here he was trying to ensure you remained dry.
A clap of thunder muffles your sob, the only mercy the Gods are giving you, and you will yourself to pass Suguru. The car door is slammed shut in Suguru's face and before he can wonder the driver is driving off.
He stands in shock, the servant that had been chasing you sharing his expression.
Satoru tilts his head, hands in his pockets as he Suguru gives him a look of apprehension once he reaches him. Your parents — his in-laws — are apologizing. More so your mother. Your father's anger is palpable despite his puckering lips.
"We'll get you another car, Gojo, Geto" your father calls for his personal driver
Satoru’s eyes — with that bright, heavenly, blue that put the sky to shame — linger on the fading signature of your aura. Suguru’s bangs stick to his forehead due to the rain and the sight of him alone has Satoru tear his gaze away. They land on Suguru who offers a furrow of his brows and so Satoru reaches to wipe the wetness away.
“Hey!” the action is rough, anything but romantic. Suguru feels like a cat being pet too roughly — with their skin stretching back and eyes growing wide — and so he smacks Satoru's hands away.
Friendly. Playful. Banter. Boys being boys.
Your mother squints her eyes nonetheless. She had heard that Satoru had been less than willing to marry. Her husband had thought it was his hubris but bowed until his forehead met the floor of the Gojo clan’s home. Their name was no laughing matter — a strong line of curse users much like the Zenin’s.
But Gojo Satoru was sought after by many the second he turned 16 — the marriage proposals flooded in like a tsunami.
He refused them all. Except the (L/N)'s.
She had thought it was the dowery. Perhaps, even the fact that an alliance would soothe whatever ill tides their clans had once had. Or maybe it really was just a stroke of luck her son got along so well with Satoru while attending Jujutsu High (her husband had enrolled (Y/N) only when he heard whispers of Satoru attending).
But fear gripped her heart as Suguru tugged on Satoru’s ear.
Had he accepted...just so he could remain close to his true love?
“I’m sorry”.
You pause the wiping motion, delicately lifting your head as your mother’s cloudy gaze floats aimlessly in the room. You were used to her nonsensical speeches, her random bursts of conversations and weepy apologies. It's been a year since the sickness unexpectedly came over her and you suppose that is what most people do when they’re close to death's door. Confessions of this and that just shooting out in a weak attempt to right old wrongs.
“Nothing to be sorry for, mother”. She places a hand over yours and squeezes. How frail. When has your mother looked so frail?
“Come home, be a (L/N) again”, confusion contorts your face.
“Mother, whatever you’ve heard is all unfounded. Rumours. Father has dealt with them”, despite her fragility her fingers squeeze your wrists so tightly it forces your own to release the damp cloth.
“Then say that to me. Look into my eyes and tell me that bastard husband of yours is better than mine, that he’s not off loving another while you rot here”.
Colour bleeds into those lifeless eyes. She feels that same squeeze she felt when she saw Satoru wipe away the rain from Suguru’s skin rather than your tears just a year ago.
Just as quickly as they appear, that dullness returns in your eyes and she reaches to hold your face but you stand.
“Father is cheating on you?”
She’s lost you.
You walk to dip the cloth into the bowl, and your shoulders are too heavy for a 17-year-old boy. Her precious son, so forlorn and withdrawn; humiliated by the society he was in for being inadequate and unworthy.
Perhaps she deserved those titles, sick and bedridden and dying, it was no surprise that her husband is seen courting younger ladies. But not you, not her son.
“He’s no shame, you know your father. His pride comes before all”. It elicits a dry chuckle from you.
Then you suppose Satoru had more in common with your father than you knew.
The Star Plasma vessel incident, you can't believe it's been a year.
A year after that man that killed that Amanai and Kuroi and Satoru.
You remembered dropping to your knees as he admitted it out loud with such an ugly smile, shaking your head in disbelief as anger swelled within you.
Before you could even think, even grieve and rage, Geto had beaten you to it. As you looked at him with his anger so visceral it came off of him in waves you felt your torn heart crumble into pieces. It felt good to dish out that anguish on Fushiguro Toji even if you ended up eating dirt.
“Wasn’t he your husband?” Toji placed his foot on your neck. “Damn, he treats you that badly or something? This freak put up a better fight”, that day you had surprised Toji by smiling with your teeth all bloody.
“He did, didn’t he?” Your laughter bubbles and you choke on your own blood.
Toji knocked you out after a scoff.
That still wouldn’t have killed you as much. The torn pieces of your heart were still salvageable.
But then.
Then.
As Satoru came back. Warm and alive. Bloody but grinning. He did not race to you, he did not even look at you. To his credit, he simply stood there with his arms wide open.
But then.
Then.
Geto’s the one to race into them.
Ah.
Right.
Shoko was shocked to see you in her smoking spot. She hadn’t even seen you as Satoru was whisked away by the Gojo clan, only spotting Suguru following along. None had wondered where Satoru's husband was; Suguru was always next to him, so there was no void that one could spot.
“Are you alright?”
The darkness in your eyes makes her flinch.
You were dead.
She’s been around enough of death and you were dead.
Your once warm, cheerful, eyes now devoid of anything.
She held you as you cried, not knowing what more she could say to help you.
“Leave me alone”, Satoru is under the covers. He has been for days now.
Grieving.
Grieving Geto.
“Husband”, you coax. It was once a funny joke. The laughter you shared as the both of you exchanged formal titles of your marriage. It hurt to know that it truly was a joke for Satoru - not for you.
Satoru grits his teeth. His eyes were rimmed red, he himself was surprised they weren’t swelled up. His throat was scratchy, his skin uncomfortable and untended from his refusal to get up. His hair was tousled, unkept and disarrayed. It's been a week since Geto's betrayal and Satoru had been laid in your bed, burying himself under the blankets and deeper into the mattress; as if determined to be buried with his sadness and anger.
“Husband," he feels your hands on his shoulder. You know him by his shape alone. If you closed your eyes you could trace the curves that made up Satoru; even if it killed you slowly, your love was a loyal curse.
“Don’t call me that!” he raises in a grand move. The covers flew and his voice was in a yell. His glare was spine-chilling but they faltered as he saw the outfit you were.
“What should I call you then, Satoru?”
He takes you in, frowns deepening at the awful way his name sounds as you call for him. Not like his Suguru; his one and only.
“What the hell are you wearing, (Y/N)?”
He feels awful as you answer: “Funeral garbs. My mother has passed”.
There’s some satisfaction that paints your features as he is rendered speechless.
“What? How?”
“She was sick”. As he sits there with nothing to say you move to kneel in front of him. Your touch shocks him to reality. He pulls his shirt down, hoping you haven’t seen the hickeys Suguru had left on him before he decided to massacre that village.
You had. You’ve seen all of it. The lingering scent of Geto on his clothes, the hair ties on his wrist, the love bites that mottle his pale skin. Satoru may have those six heavenly eyes but he seemed so blind when it came to you.
The way he grimaces each time you’ve said his name now.
“What are you doing?”
“I’ll help you wash up, Gojo”. He’d be an idiot to have not noticed that switch. Guilt is seeded into him. He stops your hands but you move them with a robotic stubbornness.
“Stop — Wait —”
“I know, Gojo.”
Silence drapes the room.
Your hands carefully thumb into his heart and cover the seed of guilt with such care Satoru’s pulse doubles its speed.
“I know you love him. So very much. I know, because when I go to clan meetings, my cousins whisper behind my back of the two of you holding hands and going on dates. When you come back late after a mission to go to Geto’s room. Or when you suddenly have Geto’s marks on you and yours on him”.
“(Y/N) — ”
“But this is my mother, Gojo”.
Your voice wavers just as he clutches your wrists in his hands. Your head hangs as your shoulders jerk up and down, twisting and squirming so you can help Satoru clean and dressed.
You know he was in pain and your heart feels for him. He needs your help. You were willing to strip down so you could wash him, and get back into this disgustingly heavy robe all over again despite how nauseating it was to do it the first time.
Funny. You can’t recall ever being one with Satoru. Your marriage was never consummated — he told you that there was no rush, you were still kids. What did he tell Geto then? Did he tell him that he had never taken you in bed? Was he fervent in his worship of him?
Was their love akin to a religion? Did they worship each others temples like devout monks?
How funny. The first time you’d get to see him naked and him you would be the day of your mothers funeral.
“She was my mother, Satoru!”
He has never heard you yell before. Satoru is struck by the that revelation.
It’s been a year since he was officially titled your husband and he knew you longer than that. But this was the first time he’s seen you in despair. Heard your yell.
Seen you cry.
“Please, I know he was your one and only but she was my mother. Please, please, don’t let me face this alone, Gojo”
“(Y/N)...”
“Please, Gojo...”
Your wrists slip away from his loosened grip. Crumpling onto the floor, your forehead meets the floor and his feet as your beg.
"(Y/N)".
How long had your mother been sick? Why didn't you tell him — or did you? Why couldn't he remember? As his mind races to collect any memory of this past year, your tears that wet his feet water that guilt.
Satoru says nothing as the both of you appear at the funeral. The haughty eyebrows and curled lips sting more when he's there — was it shame? This burning feeling in your chest? Had you said too much to Satoru? Now he was acutely aware of how others looked at you, at your marriage.
How awful.
Satoru is not used to this feeling. As a child, the eyes that lingered on him were hungry for the prize of beheading him. That had been more comfortable than this.
This was scrutinizing. They gazed on you with pity, even with his body attempting to shield you, the whispers reach your ears anyways.
Have you been doing this all alone?
All those clan meetings that you went to alone, the ones he'd excuse himself from saying he had a mission while he spent the day with Suguru to make him eat more and attempt to nurse him back to his side from the Star Plasma vessel incident.
Suguru had wept to him, telling him how terrified he'd been at the thought of Satoru leaving him.
Why didn't you come to him?
No.
Why hadn't he noticed you?
The ride back home was silent. Satoru couldn't believe your father had brought his bride-to-be to the ceremony, you quelled his anger by muttering that your mother had given her blessing for their marriage.
You're staring out the window. Had those bags always been under your eyes? When did your cheeks get so sunken in? Had you...had you lost weight?
He ignores the way your fingers twitch as he places his hand over yours. Your skin feels foreign — so does his. He offers a purse of his lips, sliding his hand up your arm and leaning in to embrace you.
But freezes as you pull your hand away.
"Don't force it upon yourself, Gojo".
"Husband —" his smile falls as your shoulders tighten, lower lip quivering.
"Please don't make me beg again, Gojo."
"What do you think, beloved?" Gojo grins brightly, bouncing his brow up and down. You were seated across from him in some cafe — he had been telling you all about how good the crepes here was a week before.
"About...?"
He pouts and places his elbows on the table.
"My theory?"
He watches as you blink, once, twice, then a faux smile climbs on your face. You turn your attention back to the melting ice cream. "Your theory about Okkotsu cursing Rika because of his love for her?" He nods vigorously.
"It makes sense, right? His curse technique activating after seeing that brutal sight, it binding Rika to him".
"Afterall, love is the most powerful curse", you said.
Gojo's animated hand motions pause. He places his hand back onto the table. He reaches for your hand and you squeeze your eyes shut but allow it.
He hates this.
Not you — He doesn't hate you. But he hates this.
After your mothers funeral, he looked through pictures. As first year students, all sunny smiles and bright eyed. The smiles got more tame as the four of you aged. His hands slung around Suguru's more tightly — even after they bared matching rings.
Satoru's never seen you smile like that anymore.
He brushes his thumb over your knuckles. Your jaw clenches.
"I love you, my beloved".
"...Thank you, Gojo".
"It's been awhile, Satoru".
No. No, no, no.
Nononononononnonononononononononononono —
Gojo can't take his eyes away from Suguru.
He tries and tries and tries but he can't. Pinned by his onyx gaze alone.
Satoru's ring burns viciously and he curls his fingers into fists.
Meanwhile, your dead-eyed gaze seemed to intensify. Everything is muffled, it felt like you were underwater. It felt like you were 17 years old again.
Abandoned. Unworthy. Unloveable. In love. Always have been. Always will be. In love with a man that was never yours.
"(Y/N), you look pale", Suguru condenscends. At least, that's what it sounds like.
Hah. Was he envious? Did he think that in the years he's been gone, you've filled the void he left? Or did he know that you never did but he was jealous anyways?
Fuck, Satoru thinks. His temples feel taut as his teeth grit together.
Kento steps infront of you and your eyes widen by an inch.
How pathetic, Gojo (Y/N). An underclassmen protecting you from your husbands ex-lover's gaze.
Why couldn't Geto Suguru just die already.
"What are you doing?" Gojo is grieving again. You should be elated but you're not. It feels too cruel. It wasn't your doing, you hadn't had any hand in killing Geto Suguru but a part of you wondered if your inner thoughts had been a wish you put out to the world. Now, Gojo was without Geto and Geto's daughters were without their father.
So you felt guilt anyways.
It was more feasible competing for Satoru's affections when his lover was simply exiled. How could you compete with a ghost?
"I'm praying for him", you replied. Gojo watches as you prepare to do so, kneeled on the floor. His eyes are rimmed with red again and he knows you've heard his cries; so here you are, sacrificing your happiness again for him.
"You don't have to do that, beloved". You say nothing as your eyes are closed in prayer.
Satoru kneels behind you, his guilt had 10 years to grow and now it was a willow tree, with its leaves sweeping the lake of tears it grew from. Your eyes flutter open as you feel his head in the junction of your neck and shoulder; he fit so perfectly there, just like you knew he would.
He's crying into your shoulder and your hand reaches back to card through the shaved sides of his hair. Your fingers lightly brushing the shell of his ear makes him shudder and he circles your waist to pull you against him.
"Don't pity me, Gojo".
He says nothing and neither do you.
"Say my name". His voice so close to your ear has you shivering.
"Gojo".
He shakes his head.
"My name, please, please, just say it".
Your heart clenches and as you close your eyes a tear slips past.
"I can't replace him, Gojo". He squeezes you tighter.
"I'm not asking you to replace him. No one can replace Suguru. I don't want them too, I don't want you too; I want you".
"I don't believe you".
He laughs, the slightest brush of his teeth on your skin has your stomach twisting into knots. Your breath trembles and you squirm in his hold, twisting away and getting onto your feet to get away from him.
He doesn't allow you to. He blocks your way, shaking his head as he holds your shoulders next.
"I want you, (Y/N). I love you —"
How long have you wanted to hear those words. Your heart wants nothing more than to soar. But your brain knows better.
"No, no, no, let me go". He doesn't let you. Satoru wraps his arms around you and your mouth opens to let out yells, fists pounding onto his chest as you try to get away from him.
"I hate you! You fucking bastard! I hate you, I loathe you!"
Satoru holds you firmly agaisnt him. Holding the back of your head preciously as he finally hears your voice raised above that whispering tone.
"I hate you! I hate you so much! Why do you keep doing this to me!? I — I just wanted you, Satoru!" Your voice breaks and your sobbing turns into wailing. His heart squeezes, chest physically hurting as you sob and yell.
"I wanted you, Satoru! I just wanted you!"
"Why didn't you love me, Satoru!?" Thunder rumbles and as your yells quiet down into hiccups, rain muffles it.
"I'm sorry, (Y/N)". He feels your knees give out and he holds you, making you lean against him for support.
"I'm so sorry, my beloved. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, (Y/N)".
When he tucks you in to rest, he isn't surprised Megumi is standing in the doorway with his eyes set into a glare. Satoru wipes your tears away, sweeping some of your hair away before placing a kiss on your forehead. He raises to answer Megumi's burning questions.
"You heard?"
"I'm not deaf".
Megumi has his arms crossed. He was an observant boy. Being raised by both Satoru and you — he notices the overexuberant Satoru's confidence wavering every time you give him smiles that never reach your eyes. Tsumiki even told him once that she finds it sad, how you both seem to be so familiar but foreign to each other.
"But one time I did see (Y/N) get flustered because of Satoru", she told Megumi whilst on their way back from school. He looked ahead, sipping on his drink as a prompt for Tsumiki to continue.
"It was during breakfast. (Y/N) woke up a little late because he was traveling around for clan meetings and missions. So he was panicking so much, he burnt our rice and stuff! But then, Satoru walks in and tells him he prepared our bento. He kept it in the fridge. All that was needed to do was heat it up, he helped (Y/N) the entire time and then he just — "
Tsumiki kisses the air with a loud 'mwah!'
"He plants a kiss right on (Y/N)'s forehead. (Y/N) was so flustered he just stared down at the sink. It was cute, he's definitely still in love, they both are!"
Megumi peeks into the room. The sliver of light on your peaceful expression highlights the content curl of your lips despite the swollen eyes you bore.
"...Don't mess up this second chance", Megumi warns. He turns and marches away while Satoru huffs, scratching the back of his head as he sighs.
"I wasn't planning to".
He really does love you. He does. He loves you, from the ends of your hair to the tip of your fucking toes; he loves —loved, Suguru too. But this is different, you're different. But his love isn't any less or more.
He loves you.
Whatever it takes, he'll make sure you know it until his last breath.
#s3thwrit3sstuff#reader insert#gay reader#male reader#male reader insert#male!reader#satoru gojo angst#satoru gojo x yn#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x male reader#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x yn#jjk x male reader
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Flowers
Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x female!reader
Summary: You're living a perfectly content life on Geidi Prime with your husband. It's a shame your mind can't rest, sparked by glimpses of a life unknown. Loosely based on the song from Hadestown.
Word Count: 1.5k
TW: Dark!Feyd-Rautha, Dead Dove Do Not Eat, yandere!Feyd-Rautha, manipulation, gaslighting, like SO much gaslighting holy shit, descriptions of violence, abusive relationship, emotional abuse, isolation, tragedy, nonconsensual drug use, nonconsensual medical treatement, induced memory loss, amnesia, dubious consent, pregnancy, songfic, happy-but-not-really-happy ending, I know I said female!reader but there's virtually no pronoun usage or descriptive words in thisfor the reader besides titles so maybe GN!reader??
A/N: I'm blown away, almost 500 notes on His Kiss, the Riot? Holy shit, all of the thanks! Here it is, the final part! I'm ending it with the song that actually started this whole idea. Listening to Eva's interpretation of Eurydice singing Flowers gave me the most delicious, fucked-up bit of inspiration and this came out. I was clutching my own metaphorical pearls writing this cause damn, this gets dark. Like, way more than I thought I could write. Anyways, I hope you enjoy the end of this twisted tale. Thank you for reading! As always, I appreciate you taking the time to like, comment, and reblog.
Read Part One and Part Two
AO3
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Dune properties, characters, or storylines-- nor do I own anything related to Hadestown. The images used in this are not my own, and any similarities to stories or events other than what are directly referenced are strictly coincidence.
Lily white and poppy red
I trembled when he laid me out
“You won’t feel a thing,” he said, “when you go down”
Nothing gonna wake you now
Drops of blood.
A wicked, black smile.
“You won’t feel a thing.”
You wake up with a gasp. Your doctor had warned you about dreams like this. They weren’t real, just an aftereffect of your accident.
The medical staff for House Harkonnen had been gracious enough to inform you of your predicament. When your family had recently hosted the Harkonnens, you quickly met and fell deeply in love with the na-Baron Feyd-Rautha. Your love for each other was so intense that you had demanded to get married right away. Your father disapproved of the union, so he disowned you and banished you, demanding to never see you again.
On the journey back to Geidi Prime, a stray asteroid hit the ship and caused you to hit your head. Feyd had apparently worried for your life, which saddened you and warmed your heart. It was nice to know that someone truly cared for you. However, your mind wasn’t quite the same afterwards. Your life before Geidi Prime was completely unknown to you. Your memories were in a fragile state.
That was just a few months earlier. Unfortunately, your mind has not yet recovered your memories prior to the accident. You were diligently taking a specially brewed tea that would calm your mind so it wouldn’t fracture under the immense pressure to try and fix itself. When you asked how long it would take for you to recover, your heart cracked when they said that it may take the rest of your natural life.
While it broke your heart to hear of your father’s dismissal of your feelings, you believed that you were strong enough to carry on. Having no further ties to your home world made it better to settle in with your new family.
You are a Harkonnen now.
Now, your footsteps make the quietest of echoes as you traipse down the narrow corridor. Heads of nearby servants and slaves bow, and eyes snap to the floor as you pass by. You feel the barest of sympathies, for not being allowed the simplest of human connection with their na-Baronness. But it was paradise considering the consequences should anyone ever feel bold enough to try otherwise.
Your husband wouldn’t allow that.
Dreams are sweet, until they’re not
Men are kind, until they aren’t
Flowers bloom, until they rot and fall apart
“Can I not have a single friend on this planet?!”
You burst into your shared chambers, rage rushing through your veins. All you had wanted was to have lunch and tea with one of the few female palace advisors you had taken a liking to. Maybe share a laugh or a story. Make a connection outside of your new family. That was all ruined when Feyd barged in and gutted your companion, stomach-to-throat, while she sat in her chair.
You were sure that your shoes had trailed blood down the hallway, but your mind was focused elsewhere at the moment.
“What use would you have for friends? I am right here.” He closed in on you, grasping your arms and forcing you to look in his direction. “Am I not enough for you? Do I not give you everything you should ever desire?”
His hands tighten around your wrists, making you flinch. A stray tear falls from your eyes, guilt starts to overcome your anger.
“No, not at all, husband! You have given me everything I could have wished for and more,” You wrench your hands out of his grip and grasp his face. He showered you with gifts, never let you go hungry or thirsty and this is how you repay him? “I just… I didn’t think you would want to hear me talk about certain things. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.”
“I know you don’t, my darling.”
You take a deep breath as you feel the tension in the room start to settle.
“Your mind is already fragile from the accident… I just want to keep you safe.”
Safe. That was the key here. He takes step back and retrieves a small dagger from his belt.
Feyd holds it up, showing you the weapon. “Did you know that your friend had a blade dipped in poison strapped onto her person?”
You can feel the blood rushing from your face. No. You didn’t know.
“I-I didn’t see a knife on her. She couldn’t have-“
“She did.”
He drops the blade and leans in closer to you, forehead aligning with yours. “There are people out there who seek to harm you, who seek to harm me through you. I can never let that happen.”
You nod furiously. You couldn’t believe that you had been so stupid.
Trust is unbelievably hard to come by in the Galactic Imperium. Your few months’ worth of memories can even attest to that. It seems that the only people you can truly rely on is family.
“I only want what’s best for you.”
You understand now.
Is anybody listening?
I open my mouth and nothing comes out
Another argument discussion had emerged from your telling of your latest dream. Your husband was convinced that you were entirely too exhausted to put any stock into what your subconscious was telling you, but you thought otherwise.
Fingers run through a patch of bright pinks, yellows, and blues—
“I swear to you, it felt so real! It was almost like a memory, like something I-,” A firm hand is placed on your shoulder as you give a slight stumble. Feyd puts a hand on your back, leading you to the edge of your bed, setting you on the bench that was placed against the footboard.
“Please, have some of your morning tea, my darling. You look a bit peaked.” You accepted the cup he gave you, settling down and taking a few sips of the warm, spiced drink. Your mind instantly calms, anxieties evaporating from your body like puffs of smoke. Never mind the memories that you had just… Floating.
Your husband is now on one knee in front of you, arms encasing your body, as his hands cup your face. He brings your eyes to meet his, seemingly searching. For what? You do not know.
“What were you saying about this dream of yours?” A pause reverberates throughout the room as your head tilts in confusion.
“My…?” You stutter, mouth opening to complete a thought that was no longer entirely there. “I can’t quite remember. What were we talking about?”
Your husband gives a smirk, analyzing your face once more before placing his hand on the dark fabric covering your swollen belly.
“Nothing of import. It seems that my heir is set on scrambling your thoughts.”
There seemed to be nothing in this world that brought more joy to Feyd-Rautha’s face than the sight of you and his unborn child. He’s more protective of you now than ever, having guards always posted near you, having you wear a shield during all public appearances. Not to mention, he was damn near insatiable in private. His hands and mouth are practically dragged away from you and your growing stomach every morning.
You give a chuckle. “I’d heard about pregnancy brain before, but never knew it to be this taxing! Perhaps I’ll take a walk later if I’m feeling up to it.”
Feyd gives your cheek a soft pat before rising to his feet, “Rest, my darling. I shall check in on the both of you later.” His hand rests next to yours, giving your belly a quick rub before he walks towards the door.
Your head goes to set on your pillow, the warmth from the tea running through your body. You must be really tired, since you fall asleep so quickly.
Quick enough to not hear the deadbolt lock clicking from the outside once the door is closed.
Flowers, I remember field of flowers
Soft beneath my heels
Walking in the sun, I remember someone
Someone by my side, turned his face to mine
The dreams start to encroach your mind while you are awake. You continue to follow your doctor’s instructions: take your daily tea, rest often, don’t overexert your body or your mind. But, ever persistent, they push through, finding parallels with your daily life to latch onto.
A hand, gently enlaced with yours, guides you through a meadow—
You husband’s hands lead you to stand with him by his uncle’s side, preparing for another ceremony.
A laugh, familiar and warm—
A chilling cackle of laughter reaches you in your viewing box, watching your husband gleefully slay another adversary in the arena.
Bright, yellow sunlight caressing your face and neck—
The black sun of Geidi Prime pulses in your periphery as you wave to a crowd below, your husband standing stoically next to you.
A kiss, given freely—
Feyd ravishes you in your chambers, lips melding together with yours.
My darling—
My love—
My darling—
My darling—
My darling—
My darling—
My darling—
“Is everything alright, my darling?”
You blink, snapping back to the present. Pale, smooth skin and blue eyes, your husband extends his hand towards you. Safe. He gives you everything. You and your child will never struggle or suffer with him. You are safe with him. Aren’t you?
Blood splatters over a patch of bright pinks, yellows, and blues—
You give a bright smile.
If you ever walk this way
Come and find me lying in the bed I made
#dune#dune 2#dune part 2#dune part two#feyd rautha#feyd rautha x reader#feyd x reader#feyd rautha harkonnen#feyd rautha fanfic#feyd rautha fic#dune fanfiction#dune fic#feyd rautha harkonnen x reader#feyd x you#feyd rautha x oc#austin butler#austin butler fanfiction#inspired by hadestown#hadestown au#dune movie#dune 2024#dune part II#orpheus and eurydice#hades and persephone#feyd rautha fanfiction#jada writes sometimes#dead dove do not eat
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you write fwb!james letters. you don't see each other in most classes and thanks to james don't pass each other in the hallways either because of that you slip him letters other ways. when you are in the same class you go past his desk and slip a note under his unopened textbook. you'll transfigure your notes into different things, over time james has gotten use to having things turn up in his bag that he swears he doesn't own before he realises it's you transfiguring different things and he swears every time you make it your mission to transfigure it into weirder and weirder things, he won't know how to explain it if someone ever saw a muggle garden gnome in his bag.
every time he reads your notes he has to make sure he's alone and no one will come in and interrupt him, not just because they're notes from you but also because said notes make his trousers tighten and his cheeks red, thinking about all the things you wrote to him and imagining what he'd do if you were there with him.
"i saw you in charms today and you looked pretty, i wanted to drag you out of the classroom and kiss you until our lips looked swollen and we have to separate to breathe." james thought you looked pretty that day too.
"i went to see your quidditch game. you're actually pretty good. your hair was even more messy than normal though." when james read that he flung himself on his bed, holding the back of his hand to his forehead, grinning. you don't like quidditch. you came anyway.
"when do you think we'll see each other next?" soon, he hopes.
"i think i'm starting my period, my breasts are tender :( you're always good with your hands." the implications makes his head fuzzy. he'd absolutely look after you, he'd touch you gently and make you feel better. he'd hug you softly if you'd let him and do anything that'll help you feel a bit better.
"can you touch me in history of magic again?"
"some information that you might want to know: i'm on birth control."
"next time i see you i want to give you a blowjob. you didn't take your shirt off last time but you have to next time, it's not fair."
james mumbles, "you're killing me" under his breath.
he can't bring himself to ever throw the letters away, they're from you. he sometimes reread the letters late at night while jerking off and thinking of you and the things he'll do the next time he'll see you. he doesn't regret keeping the letters... he doesn't... that is until sirius found them at least.
opening up one james' drawers next to his bedside table he finds your letters to him, curiously sirius glances at the first note and a cocky smirk appears on his face. sirius picks up the whole pile of letters and waves it in the air. "prongs," he says in a singsong voice, "what's this?"
james looks up and sees his friend holding up the notes you've sent to him. he panics but he hides it well, looking away back at the marauders map where he was previously spying on filch.
"i've been fucking with snivellus. i've been sending him love letters." he keeps his tone as even as he can, sirius can't know they're from you.
"this isn't your handwriting james," he replies still smirking.
"anybody can change their handwriting sirius." james says still looking down but he hasn't been paying attention to the map as soon as sirius found the letters.
he doesn't say anything for a second until, "fair enough." sirius plops down on the bed next to james looking over his shoulder at the map. "why didn't you tell the rest of us though?" sirius questions suddenly as he just thought about it.
"didn't think it was that important." james doesn't know if sirius will believe him so before sirius can think it through james starts talking about their quidditch game coming up.
sirius has no reason to doubt james in the end and even gives him ideas in the following weeks to write to snape. he'll have to be more careful next time with hiding your notes, he still won't throw them away though.
#james potter x reader#james potter smut#james potter hc#fwb!james#james potter fic#james potter x reader smut#james potter x you#marauders smut#marauders fic#♡ james#hp#harry potter#hp x reader#harry potter x reader#hp x reader smut#harry potter x reader smut#my man was nearly caught <3#♡ mine / writing#don’t let the muggles get queue down
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I am taking heads . Oh?
Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader
Synopsis: Maybe, just maybe - you can find common ground while working with your boyfriend. Or maybe not. Who cares anyway when you can have him fulfilling your carnal desires.
Tropes: Established relationship, smut
Warnings: Explicit smut, cunnilingus, heavy kissing, heated foreplay, slight fluff, college boy!Sukuna, kinda toxic relationship, No curse AU, strong language, usage of nicknames, no mentions of y/n.
Word Count: 4.4k
A/N: I liked writing their dynamic in the first part and I wanted to delve into it more but this part contains more chemistry than smut, so here you go. Enjoy! (can be read as a stand alone)
Divider credits: @cafekitsune
<Previous>
While the Gods were creating the list of unfortunate individuals, your name must have been the first.
Exaggeration? No. Truly? Well, maybe to a certain extent.
But you have to accept that you are unfortunate. Like duh! Final year of college and your professor decides to gift you with a partner project. One which you can't afford to overlook since it contributed thirty percent to your yearly grade. (Not that you'd consider bypassing it in the first place.)
While you could glide through solo projects just fine, the stakes arise when you have to work with someone else. More so, a partner – could be any of your classmates but as the professors are just so good, they already made up pairs on their own. To your luck, guess who would be your partner? Cutting the chase, here's the answer – Ryomen Fucking Sukuna.
Your gaze shifts to the back of the classroom where the aforementioned man is seated. To your astonishment, you find him returning your gaze. This silent staring match lasts for merely five seconds before his lips curve into a chesire smirk.
The sheer audacity.
You redirect your attention back to the front, a palpable scowl etched onto your features. While ostensibly directed at the professor, the true recipient of this expression is the one who caused it in the first place. Simpler words – a man with salmon hair, adorned with numerous tattoos who happens to be your boyfriend.
Barely two months had elapsed since you started this thing– relationship with Sukuna. While it should be counted as the honeymoon phase of any relationship, it was far from yours. This wouldn't even qualify as a conventional relationship to begin with.
Casual sex, casual relationship, no strings attached. Few labels if one wishes to name it.
Is it your idea for an ideal relationship? Most probably not.
Did this relationship achieve the aim of it? Most definitely.
Hence, you are here.
After your professor winds up the lecture and your classmates are on their cue to disperse out of the hall, you purposefully stride over to Sukuna. You stand before his desk, arms crossed over your chest as you start, "So–"
His crimson eyes flicker over to you, lips quirking into a grin, "Well well, fancy meeting you, princess."
Your eyebrow twitches in irritation still you let out a breath to calm your nerves. "I told you not to call me that in public."
"You did?"
"Yes."
"Mhm, nah. Don't remember, don't care."
This fucking asshole.
You grit your teeth, glaring at him which he returned with a smug smirk. You pinch the bridge of your nose, constantly reminding yourself on why you are here. After you're done with your pep talk, you start again, "See, I will not beat around the bush. We've that project–"
"A shitty project," He rolls his eyes, resting his face on his knuckles. "Do it yourself."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
"No, I didn't," You scoff. "What the hell do you mean by – do it yourself? For your information, its a P. A. R. T. N. E R. partner project. You've to put in your efforts too."
"I know what a partner project means, woman. I am not doing it."
You lean in, placing your hand on his desk, "You want to fail this course?"
"Oh no, no," He clicks his tongue. "Aren't you my partner, princess? Sure, you can do extra work for your boyfriend."
Fuck this stupid asshole. Which sin did you commit to get punished like this?
"How convenient," Your lips stretch into a grin. "What more? Do you want me to write your exams as well?"
He raises an eyebrow, "You like me that much?"
"I hate you and I mean it this time."
"So you don't the other times?"
This guy...
Your nose crinkles "Fuck you."
"Here? Didn't know were into exhibitionism."
"Oh fuck off." You retort, placing your hands on your hips. "You know," the corner of your lip quirks up, "There are six million nerves in one's body. How do you manage to get on each one of them?"
"What can I say? I am just naturally gifted."
"Right, such a shame we don't hand out Nobel Prize for arrogance."
That earns you a scornful glare from Sukuna while you stifle the grin that stretches up your lips; failing miserably. One win - fantastic. You breathe out heavily, shaking your head, "See, I am not doing your portion of work and if you're so adamant about not doing basic research then be my guest. You can fail."
Sukuna returns an expression that could be counted as least bothered before adding, "You will fail too."
"I wouldn't mind a red mark on my annual report."
You will. You very much will.
Counting back to the time you almost got a seventy in the parasitology exam in third year, you didn't step out of your room for two days. But he doesn't need to know that.
Sukuna, for some reason, doesn't counter that. You take it as your cue and continue, "Five-thirty, evening, at the cafeteria, today. Don't be late."
"Rather a casual way of asking me out on a date but I accept." He muses, a smirk curving up on his lips.
You sigh and lean back, "Call it whatever. Don't be late." You rotate on your heels as you descend the broad stairs of the lecture hall. You turn one last time, he's still in the same place – gathering up his things. "If you are then you're doing extra work." With that, you flung your bag over your shoulder and walk out of the hall.
Hopefully, he will show up.
.
Surprisingly, Sukuna does show up.
No, not so. He shows up before you do. When you step into the cafeteria, looking for a suitable table, when you locate the man occupying one at the far end of the room.
You have to veil your utter shock under a mask of nonchalance cause you were ninety-nine percent sure that you'd have to drag him here. Yes, in no way in hell are you doing all of this work alone. At the same time, you wonder if you do even have the strength to drag him in the first place. Instead of pondering on matters of what could've been, you push it away and stride towards him.
His eyes land on you when you walk up to him, putting his phone down in the process. "So you'll be doing extra work for showing up late?"
"I am not late." You counter, taking a seat across from him, switching on your phone for a brief second, you check the time. "Its five twenty-eight. You are too early."
"You wanted me to be late?"
"No, fine. You are fine." You shrug, leaning back on the chair while taking out the required notes and books. Though a thought does conjure up your mind and you murmur to yourself, "I thought you wouldn't show up."
It does reach his ear causing him to cast the smirk your way, "I can't deny my princess now, can I?"
Inadvertently, you smirk too. However, you keep your attention on the notes in your hand. You assume he has taken notice of it cause a snicker escalates but he doesn't comment any further. Yet, you have to divert his attention that he managed to amuse you so you clear your throat and start, "I am feeling generous today so you can input whatever topic you have in mind."
"Ah, yes. I am so honored." He replies with an evident lace of sarcasm in his tone.
"You should be."
For the next half an hour, its a blur of discussion on which topic would be more suitable on this project. It isn't a surprise when you find, working with Sukuna on coursework more bearable than you'd have expected it to be. Given, you knew he was a hard worker and really smart; now, only if he could get down from his high horse.
After crossing out the obvious topics, which both of you can pretty much agree cannot give you a decent score. That brings you here, two topics – implementation of robotics in medical science OR thermodynamic mechanisms in spaceships.
"See," You start, "All I am saying is that robotics would make a better topic. It's coming of age but less researched, choosing something uncommon–"
"It's exactly the reason of it being uncommon that we shouldn't go with it." Sukuna interrupts you, before you can finish as he crosses his arms over his chest. "More reason, to go with thermodynamics."
"That's too much of a common ground, almost everyone would be selecting it. Out of laziness or interest, no one would know."
He breathes out heavily, rolling his eyes, "If that's your only problem then get over it." The offense is clearly marked on your expression but before you can speak, Sukuna continues, "We have to write this project. Write as in mention correct facts not fuck around and make up shit which we would definitely have to cause your topic is already less researched or in your words – coming of age."
He does make a good point. A brand new topic will have the disadvantage of you having to work on limited materials, some of which might even prove to be false considering the internet is full of shit. You sigh and mutter, "Ugh, fine." He raises an eyebrow and you reach for your purse. "Time for showdown."
"What? You're taking out any guns or shit." He narrows his eyes at you receiving a smug smile in return.
"If I had to kill you, I'd you poison. It's more sophisticated."
"I'd expect you to be the last person to know a thing about sophistication, given your smartmouth."
You dig through your purse, looking for the required item, simultaneously adding, "Doesn't hold a candle before your narcissim."
"See, this is what I am talking about. You always need to get the last word."
"Just my signature sign-off," A sarcastic smile plays on your lips when your eyes shifts to him. He just stares back with a disinterested scowl. You shake your head, "Anyways, we'll be tossing."
"Seriously?" Disbelief is marked heavy on his visage. "You want to decide our project on some pesky toss?"
"Uh huh," You affirm, running your fingers through your hair, "I am already partnered with you. How worse can it get?"
"Fair."
"I am taking heads."
"Oh?"
"Get your mind out of the gutter, Sukuna. Keep it PG-13." The clogs run in your mind and you shoot him a scornful glare.
"Never was in the first place." He muses, reaching for the coin in your hand which you pass to him without hesitation.
Sukuna holds the coin over his thumb before a jerk sent it flying upwards, the silver of the metal gleams with the setting sun before descending downwards. His forearms flex and with a precise snap of his wrist, he catches the coin on his waiting palm, clasping the other over it; for it to remain hidden. He rotates his wrists again, bringing it to the center of the table where he removes his upper hand.
Tails.
"I win."
There's a brief pause, no words spoken from your side which incites him to take a glance at you. He finds you staring at him with a bewildered expression while your lips are parted. Yet, your eyes aren't cast over to the coin in his hand, more so to him.
His eyebrow furrows and he snaps his finger in front of you, "Oi, wake up." Works wonders as it breaks your trance but causes you to recoil back with a gasp.
"H-Huh? What? What happened?"
Sukuna only answers with passing the coin back to you, with the tails side on display and you get the hint.
"F-Fine." You cough, refusing to meet his gaze. Only hoping that he wouldn't make a comment on your initial zone-out stance. You cough again, reaching for the water to take a gulp before typing in on your laptop. "Hm, so what? Thermodynamics in rockets, was it?"
Sukuna knits his eyebrow, leaning front, his fingers interlocking together, "Wow, no arguments?"
"No."
"Not even a smart mouth comeback?"
"No."
"What a character development."
His tone drips with sarcasm but you're far down the road to comment on it. Besides with the heat rushing up your face, its better if you keep conversations to a minimum for now.
.
New day, new shit.
Did you think Yorozu clinging onto your boyfriend like a leech was bad? Surprise, surprise! No. It's worse when she's set her eyes on you.
Currently, she stands before you; glaring at you like you've committed some arson. She narrows her eyes at you, "Aren't you the girl who's tagging with my sukuna?"
"I have a name. Its–"
"Don't care," She dismisses with a wave. "What relation do you have with him?"
You press your lips into a thin line, already contemplating the question of – Is holding a conversation with her worth it? Chances are none. However, considering you and Sukuna never mentioned your relationship to anyone explicitly, so its obvious as to why she'll pine for him.
You sigh and start, "Well, I am his–"
"You know what, It doesn't even matter."
Is it her aim to ask you questions only to not hear them in the end?
"But," The girl continues, a warning scowl directed at you, "If you think you've got any chance with him then let me burst your bubble, sweetheart." An eerie grin plays on her lips, "You don't."
Alright, why is she acting like the mean girls from the 90s soap opera?
"Sure," You mutter, tilting your head aside. Though it's a confirmation of her statement, you tone indicates confusion.
Her eyebrows scrunch up as she takes a step towards you. "Sure? That's it? You're not gonna say anything else."
"What do you want me to say?"
"Like literally anything."
"Haven't got anything to say, to be honest."
A silence befalls over the both of you. While you are overwhelmed by the awkward tension of this situation, Yorozu only looks at you like you've uttered the greatest blasphemy.
"So may I–"
"Aren't you trying your chances on him?"
She's still stuck on that? You mentally sigh, racking your mind through all the responses that will stop this confrontation for today and the coming of days. Just then, you find the perfect response.
A smirk stretches on your lips as you take a short glance at the beauty in front of you.
"To be honest, no. Absolutely not. I am least interested in him," You shrug, inching closer to her. Reaching out a hand, you caress the soft skin on her chin, tilting it to your stature. "You see, my dear. The one, I want– hm, its you."
"Excuse me?" The look on her face in pure art as she stumbles a few steps back, removing your hand from her, horror evident on her mien.
You push your hand inside your pocket as you lean back. Bedroom eyes directed at her with a suggestive smile. "You heard me, darling. Ah– aren't you just the prettiest?"
That isn't a lie. You have to give it to her, she's one of the most beautiful girls you've seen till date. Hair as black as midnight, sleek and flowing like an endless river while brown eyes that shone under sunlight. Only problem? Her damn infuriating personality. If only she could fix it now...
Perhaps, in another realm– another life - it'd be you and her.
"Say," You continue, "Why don't I take you out? This friday? Sounds nice, right?" You gather a note and your pen, scribbling something on it.
"Absolutely not. Stay the fuck away from me."
"Oh come on," You snort, tearing the note as you push it onto her hand. "Just one date. I swear, you won't regret it."
"No. And what the hell is this?"
"That's my number. Text me later, doll."
With a swift turn of your heels, you walk away from her. Not before shooting a suggestive wink her way.
.
How did an argument about chopping carrots escalate to Sukuna eating you out on the counter top?
Recounting back to twenty minutes ago, you were standing in your shared kitchen with Sukuna while the latter chided you on how you were so fucking incompetent in using a damn knife. That might hold true, given your chopping skills were negligible and on the other hand, Sukuna just knew how to use that blade like he's using it for a thousand years. You were effectively fuming inwardly as you decided to strut out of the kitchen while throwing profanities under your breath. To your luck, or your clumsiness – you hit yourself with the doorframe.
That's the reason you were sitting on the counter top with Sukuna standing between your legs as he pressed a ice pack on your forehead.
"Do you always have to make a bad situation worse?" He glares down at you, pressing down the ice pack a little too much.
"I don't make a habit out of it," You reply following a hiss in pain. He reduces the pressure, angling the bag on a better posture.
You don't speak after that, neither does he add anything more; solely focusing on the light blemish on your forehead. However, the silence that falls over is far from comforting.
The air hangs heavy in the room puncturting only by the soft whispers of both of your breath. Sukuna stood uncomfortably close; a palpable weight to your very being. His heady scent of musk and spice wafts over you, enveloping all your senses. His calloused hand gripped your thigh firmly, keeping you restricted to that certain posture; you couldn't resist the shiver that went down your spine. The tension grew heavy hot and heavy–near suffocating.
One of the sweatbeads clinging to a strand of his hair, drips down, resting on the dark tattooed skin. You take a note of how his adam's apple bobs – sound audible and action agonizingly slow. An sting of electricity shoots down to your core, only a mesh of garment separating your crotch from his.
Why does any close proximity with him bring out these electrifying sensations? Like a black hole, pulling you with a greater force than the last.
His eyes were trained on you, drinking in every inch of what you are. The sheer intensity of it settled a blockage in your lungs–rendering your ability to breath freely. Your heart thumped in your ribcage like a drum while your fingers pressed onto the counter edge.
Refusing to meet his carmine eyes, you wondered if this heat was only a notion of yours or did he feel it too?
"You know... professor was satisfied with our work– that project, I mean." Licking your lips, you let out a deep breath. It was the silence. Only the silence, you tell yourself. Maybe a chance at conversation would dissipate it.
Seemed like, your partner had no interest in continuing one with you as he only answered with a hum.
That doesn't help any way, more so adds fuel to your burning desires. The deep, guttural hum rings in your ears, a flurry of goosebumps arise on your arms, your stomach churned with a carnal urge.
Yet, you refrained from making any unnecessary actions; that proved to be a task in itself.
Few droplets of cool water trickle down your cheek to your throat–belonging to the melting ice, pressed on your forehead. That ache is long gone, reaching for his wrist, you tug it away. "It's fi– hah!"
Sukuna's lips were on your neck as he sucked on its supple flesh; the same region where those beads of water had trickled down. For in his wake, those beads glistening over your skin were the only drink that could quench his thirst. His teeth grazed over the pulse point of your neck, sinking his teeth down on it, inciting a raspy moan from you.
Sukuna captured your nape in his hand, grip firm yet not a flicker of harshness. His lips found the hollow of your neck, he presses his mouth down on the tender skin. Savoring the taste as he glides his tongue to your collarbone.
Your eyes fluttered shut at the very first sensation, hands fisted over his shirt, you tugged him closer. A breathy moan left your lips, trying to clench your legs as heat pooled down in your core. "Sukuna."
"I've been waiting to taste you for so long." He muttered near your ear, warm breath falling on your earlobe as he subtly tugged it.
The cool metal of his tongue piercing sets down like a sharp contrast against your heated skin. His left hand brushes over the hem of skirt, squeezing your thighs. He pulled you closer to himself, kisses trailing up from your jaw to the corner of your lips. He stared at you. Stare as in look. He looked at you, fishing out every bit of details that he might have missed the last times. There's more. There always more.
From the way you've clamped your eyes shut to the curve of your nose or to the structure of your cheek to the way your chest rises and fall as you breath. He takes the note of how the skin of your neck had tried slightly red from his previous assault. He cups your cheek, tilting your face towards him. When he speaks, its a low whisper, "Look at me."
On cue you open your eyes. His eyes burn with a primal desire akin to an untamed beast whose very essence is filled with lust. He is staring at you with the burning passion in which you are burning as well. You don't know, what came over you but you say his name again.
"Sukuna."
.
Maybe he was just waiting for that.
He takes your mouth in his with a force anyone could only imagine. The sheer impact of your head tipping back to hit the concrete is shielded by his hand which runs through the locks of your hair. A slight ache rest over his knuckles but he is more concerned with the way you taste as he delves into you, lapping and swirling his tongue with yours.
The moan that escapes your mouth causes him to smirk. His hand slides inside your skirt as he runs his fingers over the fabric of your panties. His eyebrows furrow feeling the soaked garment as he pulls away from the kiss for a brief second, lips still brushing with yours.
"Wet already?"
The rush of blood to your cheeks is a sight to behold as you consciously try to avoid his piercing gaze. One which he'd have taken the moment to carve a picture out in his mind but not today. Not now. His hunger for you is far greater.
So his mouth find yours again.
He bits down on your lower lip almost to the point of drawing blood, leaving it only at the last second when you hiss in pain. He licks on the flesh, sucking on it altogether. When he leaves you – your lower lip is puffed out. Yet, a side of him wishes to know what would your blood taste like? As saccharine as your pleasurable release? Or like the musk salty sweat of your skin?
While that desire would have to see the light of day another time, he believes he can be satisfied with what he has tasted before yet not. For your skin and lips was a dish in itself, he is aiming for dessert.
Hooking his thumb under the waistband of your panties, he says, "Lift." You buckle your hips up, balancing your weight with your hands on the counter top, he slides out the garment before discarding somewhere.
Sukuna kneels down in front of you, eyes at the perfect level of your cavern leaking with arousal. He spreads your legs wider, no way is anything blocking this delicious sight or his meal. Not even you.
He licks over the entrance of your pussy, a brief moan escalating from you causing his cock to strain against his briefs. With his thumb and forefinger, he spreads your lips apart watching how your juice glisten down. With a flick of his tongue, he swipes a teasing, wet trail over your already swollen clit.
A slow circuit forms as he in literal sense toys with you; lapping and swirling his tongue over your hardened bud. Waves of pleasure shoot through your body, nails hurting from digging into the hard counter top. Your toes curl as you arch your back forward. His tongue piercing works wonder on your core, you bit your lip yet the whine escapes, "Ahh– Fuck– stop teasing me, Sukuna."
"Let me enjoy my meal, princess." He muses, inching closer. He slides a finger inside you, curling it inside you while his mouth works simultaneously on your core. Feasting like no one else.
You tip your head back, crying out like waves of pleasure hit you. "Yes, li-like that– fuck, please Sukuna. D-don't stop."
"Your wish is my command princess." He nips at your sensitive flesh, drawing another moan from you. Though this meal is more lavish than anyother, his cock painfully strains against his garments – begging for release. Begging to be inside you.
Sukuna slides his finger in and out of you before adding another. The added stimulation has your eyes rolling back inside your head, your hand finds it's way to his hair, tugging on the locks as you push him forward.
A groan escapes his lips, tongue and fingers drawing a rhythm which sends you over the edge. A sheen of sweat rests over your body while Sukuna, purposefully French kisses your clit. Your eyes widen with pure ecstasy, body convulsing as you cry our giving into your orgasm.
Sukuna licks up your release before getting uo from the floor. A devilish grin resting on his lips, eyes glinting with desires of his own. If he had his phone, he'd just click your spent up form, keeping it with him as a memory. Face flushed, legs spread wide as a trail of drool runs down your mouth. You try to catch your breath.
"What? Tired already? Too bad, I am not done with you."
.
BONUS
"By the way, I am taking out Yorozu on a date this friday."
"How wonderful. Enjoy."
A/N: Just imagine, Sukuna tossing a coin in front of you. His forearms and wrists are exposed with the tattoos as they flex when he snaps his hand to catch the falling coin... See that? See what I am talking about? No, try again. See it, now? Yes? Good. This will live in my mind rent free now.
Anyways, thank you for reading. Likes and feedbacks are appreciated <3
P.S: lmk if anyone wants to read about reader's date with Yorozu (please do cause I need an excuse to write it and I just wanna know if y'all are interested 🥹)
#sukuna ryomen#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna#jjk#jjk x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna#ryomen x reader#sukuna ryomen x you#sukuna smut#sukuna ryomen smut#ryomen sukuna smut#jjk sukuna#sukuna jjk#jjk ryomen#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen#sukuna x you#sukuna x y/n#ryomen sukuna fanfiction
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test subject x the ghoul pt 1
Pairing: cooper howard x fem! cat mutant & sniper reader (thats a mouth full lol)
I've never really written stories like this but i think this is a fun idea so ill try my best anyways please please please msg me if you have ideas and or suggestions (i am sensitive please be nice LMAO)
Warnings: slow burn, writer is dyslexic, might be slightly out of character, a whole lot of guns, not proof read
context: you are part cat due to being experimented on you have the cat ears and eyes along with all there senses (i do plan on making a full backstory)
your on the search for a doctor who has a large sum of caps over his head, you could care less about the caps you don't have a lot to do in this world so you take any opportunity you can to have some fun no matter how risky it could be. considering the amount of caps, you already know it will be quite the task but you don't mind playing with your food.
you've asked around the wasteland a little (not that a lot of people really said anything useful) but any information you got led you to a town called filly. you entered filly walking in trying your best not to draw more attention to yourself, the gasmask your wearing doesn't really help with that but you don't really need people knowing you have animal ears and eyes. you take in your surroundings as you walk with a crowd looking for the highest most excluded building you could see when a ghoul catches your eyes, you walk a bit slower admiring him for a moment watching him roll a vile in between his fingers before snapping out of your trans and picking up you pace again.
you get to the top of the building staying low to the ground making sure no one sees you up here before laying on your stomach and pulling out your sniper riffle. you sit and watch everything for about 7 minutes until a familiar doctor falls into you glance. you don't even bother lining up your scope to his head, you don't feel the need to someone else is bound to get him after you shoot him regardless but that's more then okay with you, you don't mind playing a waiting game.
you see him talking to a vault dweller just before an older woman who seems to run a shop approach them, you try you best to listen in but all you can seem to make out is the shop owner saying something about getting out of here. "this gasmask is fucking me over" you whisper with a sigh readjusting your arm a bit to be more comfortable.
suddenly the ghoul stands up, along with a few people just now noticing there's a ghoul in the town as they cautiously speed walk away from the area. the ghoul shouts something about this doctor having a hefty price over his head as almost everyone moves away from the man. a sly smile grows on your face now knowing hes involved with this bounty as well. the shop owner says something and before she can even finish her sentence the ghoul shoots the mans foot off, the poor vault dweller just stands there in fear and confusion, a wave of sympathy overcomes you knowing you were just like her you almost wish you still were.
the old woman shouts "i gotta 1000 bottle caps for who ever kills that fucker!!... but you dont get SHIT if i kill em first!". your not to sure why but after hearing that you start to focus your scope on anyone who starts to even look at him. the ghoul holds his gun out gun on the trigger ready to shoot just waiting for someone to make the first move as he looks around in a circle. a man in a black hat and googles pulls out his gun but before he can even pull the trigger the ghoul shoots him in the chest, his bullet exploding on impact. immediately after more people start shooting at him, he turns in a circle again shooting anyone who try's to get near him as you shoot the people from a distance. in all honesty you know he probably doesn't need your help but still you continue with out a reason to be doing so. you see someone trying to come at him with a knife from behind and just as the ghoul turns around to attack you shoot the man with the knife and the glare of your scope hits the ghouls eye and he looks up as you give a slight wave right before pointing to signal behind him as a brother a steel knight shows up.
you see the old woman and the vault dweller go run and hide into the shop bringing the doctor with him. you know you wont to much to the walking tin man so you decide to go down and listen in. you try your best to sneak in with out anyone seeing you but as the ghoul is on some broken steps you look over at him and with out a doubt he was looking dead at you before getting right back into combat. you ignore it and continue to snoop in on the others.
you keep your back pressed tightly agents the wall. hear the woman convince the vault dweller to take the doctor to moldaver, you've heard of the woman but have never had any encounters with her based off the things you've heard you know this will be a good time (you would have never found anything about this situation fun before the war). you start making your way out of the building after hearing that its plenty for you to go off along with now having both the doctor and the vault dwellers sent. you decide to hide in a ally and wait for things to die down before leaving.
after about 9 minutest you don't hear metal clacking or guns shooting you start to leave filly. you didnt get to far outside of the town before you hear a gun cock behind you "aint you a little over prepared?" you hear a mans voice with a southern accent referring to your gas mask. you turn to face the voice seeing the ghoul you've been eyeing this whole trip "doesn't effect you now does it? is the gun really nectary after i helped you?" you scoff offended but knowing youd do the same "now i aint ask you to do that for me, did i?" he says finger on the trigger. you think for a moment 'rude ass' you think to yourself "i guess not, but a thank you would be nice" you say with sarcasm in your voice. The Ghoul keeps his eyes upon you as you speak, the gun never moving. He lets out a short laugh at your attempt to engage. "You want a thank you for a job half done? bailed in the middle of a fight.. not that id thank you anyways i didnt need your help smooth skin. what's you goal here you tryn to steal my bounty" he says sounding more relaxed than he should be. "not necessarily, i don't want the caps if that's what your worried about." the gun never wavers even as you speak. "so just what do you want then?". "entertainment, not much to do in this world." you say with a smile on your face, not that he can see it. The Ghoul is surprised by your answer. He lowers his gun slightly, looking you up and down, but still doesn't trust you. "You ain't got better things to do with your time? Like finding food, or water, or caps?". those things are all fairly easy to come across for you, your sneaky and when you want something you take it. "lets say that all comes easy" Something you said intrigues him, and his gaze lingers on you a little longer. He shifts his weight to his left foot, and holsters his gun. "You saying food, water, caps just comes to you?". you relax abit more now that his guns down "i never said that, its just easy to get. now i have some information that may be of use to you, and im more then happy to give it under one condition" The Ghoul's interest is piqued. His curiosity getting the better of him, he nods his head. He wants to see if what you're peddling is actually worth something. "And what would that condition be?". you feel excited, youve never traveld with someone much less had company in years and the though of him agreeing (even if its not very friendly) makes you happy "i come with you on your bounty." He considers it, still not fully trusting you, but also intrigued by your offer. "And why the Hell would I want you along for a bounty hunt? Why should I trust you? What's to stop you from just turning on me? "he responds "you interest me, my weapons aren't out now are they? if i wanted to kill you i would have done it while i was on the roof" you say slightly muffled from your gas mask. He looks at you for a moment, thinking it over. He didn't like the idea of traveling with someone he didn't know, but he wouldnt mind the help from someone who knows how use to use a gun(not that he'd ever admit that). "Fine, we'll go after the bounty. But the second I even get a hint you're planning something, I'll kill you where you stand. We clear?". "understood." you say trying your hardest not to sound excited. He nods, then turns and begins walking away the dog standing behind him following. He calls over his shoulder to you.
please let me know what you guys think of this and im open to any suggestions and ideas ( i would also love name ideas for this) :)
notes: @s-lock-doctordonna I LOVED YOUR IDEAS AND I WILL BE USEING THANK YOU <3
#cooper howard x reader#the ghoul x reader#fallout#fallout show#fallout series#fallout x reader#cooper howard x you#the ghoul fallout#fallout fanfic#cooper howard#cooper howard x female reader
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How would all the yanderes react to a shy darling working at the casino as wait staff who attempts to keep their distance only working to pay off a debt the innocent type like a frightened kitten or bunny
You got it! Sorry for posting so much followers, I love my guys so much. I have a Gambit post incoming after this!!!
Yandere!OCS x GN Reader
Amias
He's had you as his server a few times. Admittedly, you never spoke much and got nervous easily, but he enjoys your company. It's a nice change from the other over dramatic fucks working in this damn place.
That's how he finds himself requesting you to his confused waiter one day, and then the next. Eventually, everyone just assumes he wants you as his server when he walks in. He starts ordering drinks more frequently to try and make you open up. It's just too endearing, how you avoid his questions and avert your gaze and whatnot.
You, on the other hand, are alarmed. You've never had a regular before. You immediately try to get out of it. Every day he asks for you, you're miraculously missing, busy, or on break.
It doesn't frustrate Amias in the slightest. When he's told that you're not there, he simply gets up to look for you.
No doubt, he WILL find you.
"So afraid all the time... Rightfully. You should be."
Edge
As a dealer, he doesn't get to move from his spot much. You've been formally introduced to each other before, but he's never cared much. You're not interesting to him.
On one of his late-night shifts, he notices you're still there. But... weren't you there when he came in? On his next break, he asks you about it. He doesn't seem concerned, just curious. Hesitantly, you explain that you had to pick up someone else's shift because you needed the cash. You try to explain that it's definitely not like you're in crippling debt right now, and you're totally fine.
He finds this curious. He's no doubt had to pick up shifts before in his life, but he finds it endearing how insistent you are that you're fine. When he pokes further into it, he ends up with all the information he needs.
You're such a meek little thing, he wonders how easily you'd break under his thumb.
Time passes, and he slowly starts to nudge and press against your insecurities. It's like your melting into a pool of "what the fuck" and being rebuilt over and over again. He supports you financially for a while, and you're forced to stay at his side for as long as he wants you to. Which is to say, until you're boring again.
"Love, ownership... Are they not the same?"
Double Down
He thinks you're just ADORABLE. He finds time to flirt with you, even when he's busy. He'll dedicate his executions to you, he'll watch you like a hawk from where he stands... You're like his own personal pet!
It's superficial at first. He just wants to get you in his grasp long enough to entertain him. Once he's done with you, he casts you aside again. Yet, once you're gone, he finds himself waiting for you to come back.
You don't.
You realize you've been used like an object, and timidly resign to go find a better job. (Frankly, it's good for you anyways. It's hard to watch so many people bite it each day.) You're madly, deeply, truly embarrassed that you let him win.
When DD finds out you've quit, he grows furious. Why? He doesn't know. All he knows is that you left him. NOBODY leaves him. Not until he's done with them.
Rest assured that you are completely and utterly unsafe now. Poor kitten, he'll be sure to take terrible care of you.
"Leaving me is the last mistake you'll ever make, if you want to keep your cute little eyes open."
BONUS ROUND!
Jackpot and Gambit
Jackpot just oozes confidence, so naturally you stay as far away from him as you can. He's practically the exact opposite of you. Plus, looking at him makes you nervous. Additionally, Gambit is like the boss of all bosses. There's no way you could speak to him other than a small squeak every time he regards you.
They noticed you, though. How do you think you got this job? Jackpot saw you and knew he wanted you, and Gambit followed suit as soon as he saw your poor, pitiful self.
You spilled someone's drink. Fuck. You're screwed. You're dead. You're fired. You'll crawl into a hole now, thank you. The drunk customer is enraged in an instant. He stands to throw hands, and you flinch back.
The punch never lands, however. Your knight in blue, skin-tight armor has arrived. Jackpot smiles softly at the offender, as if he wasn't holding his fist in a death grip. In a deceptively sweet tone, he explains that he doesn't tolerate any sort of violence toward the staff.
Once the customer is kindly escorted out of the establishment, Jackpot finally acknowledges you. He doesn't speak, he simply pulls your shaking form into his strong embrace. Your fear is overshadowed by intense embarrassment considering the amount of clothes he's wearing. He's warm, though.
He hushes you as he holds you, stroking your hair and swaying back and fourth. You internally wonder how this man manages to show such intimacy.
You hardly notice that there's a discussion going on around you until your arm is gently taken by... Well, fuck. Your boss is here. You're definitely fired.
Gambit chuckles in acknowledgement of your nerves, shaking his head. He doesn't seem angry, more amused. He plants a kiss to the back of your hand, asking you how you're feeling. You stumble over your words, unable to form a coherent sentence in such a situation.
They both smile fondly-- Nay, possessively-- down at you. How cute, maybe now you'll learn that they're the only ones who can protect you.
"You don't need to worry, sweet thing. We'll never let anyone hurt you again."
"I'll make sure you feel much better by your next shift. You'll have to stay with us for a while. No arguments, unless you want that debt to swallow you whole."
#yandere oc#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere boy#yandere art#yandere x darling#yandere boyfriend#yandere x you
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im back with more chaotic modern reader x hazbin crew... 👀👀
just imagine a reader who cannot take things seriously. like, oh you're sad? their response is either "not a slay" or "that didn't eat". oh Angel and Husk are having yet another argument and the rest of the hotel is tense (-Alastor)? reader just obnoxiously sips tea. oh Adam is going on his "I'm better than you all" rant during the fight? reader just obnoxiously chews popcorn.
A/N: I rewrote this a few times because I had too many ideas on what to do but didn't want it to be too long. Anyways, hope you enjoy Anon!
• You just don't get why people make such a fuss about stupid things, they're already in hell, what are they whining about? This place isn't even that bad, it is way different from what you were teached at least, you actually enjoy being here.
• You're not the most reliable person to go to when it comes to having a serious conversation, you just don't give two shits about anything, why should you? Does it really matter in this place, even if some demon gets angry at you, it's not like you can die again.
• You saw Charlie crying or just really stressed out about the hotel, you either tell her to suck it up or don't even bother engaging and go call Vaggie to deal with it, not your girlfriend, not your problem. Sir Pentious says his sinceres sorries to you? You tell him to go fuck himself and still gives him death stares for a week, he destroyed the wall Alastor made you clean up earlier that day and you hold grudges very easily.
• Husker and Angel are having a discussion? You're filming it and whispering “Fight fight fight” in the back, you'll take any drama that happens at the hotel. And when they come back all friendly and even being gross with each other you put your head on the bar's counter and let out a disappointed sigh; “You two are flirting now? For fuck sake, I can't have jackshit in this hotel can I?”
• Lucifer is coming to the Hotel? You cared at first, but then realized he was not as hot as you imagined the king of Hell would be and decided that you won't mind, you only really pay attention to when he and Alastor are fighting. Your eyes did tear up a little bit when Lucifer and Charlie solved things with each other but you won't ever say that out loud.
• When Vaggie finally revealed that she was a angel to everyone, you took it as the biggest gossip of the year instead of and actual emotional moment and did not understand why Charlie was so shocked at this information, like, c'mon, that shit was the best.
• When the final battle is close, the one that you can actually kill you for good, you don't get all emotional, your side has a army of cannibals, Alastor and the princess of Hell, why should you worry? Still, you find yourself drinking with your hotel mates the night before the fight, you find yourself talking happily to Charlie and Vaggie, telling Sir Pentious to just kiss Cherri Bomb already, you congratulate Angel and his future relationship with Husker which makes him laugh.
• This is Hell, you're here because you deserve it, but tomorrow is another day that no one can tell what happens so might as well enjoy it while it lasts, but you totally don't care about the hotel, yeah… Totally don't care.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin lucifer#lucifer morningstar#charlie morningstar#hazbin hotel lucifer#husker x reader#lucifer x reader#angel dust x reader#charlie hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#alastor x reader#vaggie x reader#hazbin vaggie#niffty x reader#niffty hazbin hotel#sir pentious x reader#sir pentious#hazbin charlie#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin angel dust
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Now That We Don't Talk | Frank Castle x F!Reader
BONUS FIC
See this post for more information on my Valentine's Day Special & Follower Celebration, but these fics can be read separately!
Read Is It Over Now? for better clarity.
Pairing: Frank Castle x F!Reader (past Matt Murdock x F!Reader)
Summary: You go home with the guy from the bar, and he makes you forget about your ex.
Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), oral f!receiving, use of "attagirl", slight Dom!Frank, song references, unprotected p in v, dirty talk
Word Count: 2.9k
A/n: You wanted a part 2, so you're getting a part 2! Anyway, I don't write Frank often, so I hope it isn't too bad. It's also not as spicy as you probably expected, but I wanted this to fit the vibe of the previous fic (link above). You don't need to have read it to understand this, but it is highly recommended because some references might confuse you. Thank you all for taking part in this event!
You believed that your life had ended when you lost him. He painted your world in the brightest colors, but by breaking your heart, he took them away. All that was left to see was a boring shade of gray in a sea of sadness.
Matt told you from the start that being with him wouldn’t be easy. You were willing to try. He needed someone, and you wanted to be that someone to him. You accepted him unconditionally.
In the end, giving everything wasn’t enough. He chose her over you, and the castle you two had built came crashing down on you while he stood idly by.
You’re not a bitter person, you have never been, but he made you fall for him; he made you believe that there was hope for the future and that you would grow old together. He stole years of your life in which you were trying to save him from himself. In return, he took the best care of you, but that doesn’t matter much now that he has taken your heart and shattered it like a glass of red wine on a white cloth.
When you left him, you thought the distance would kill you. You truly believed that this was the end of everything, not just your relationship with the man you thought was the one but yourself as well. “This isn’t what it looks like!” he said the day you found out the ugly truth.
“I trusted you,” you remember saying. You couldn’t even cry. The pain burned brighter than the sun, and it dried your eyes before they could even shed a tear.
He argued with you that, “It was just a kiss,” but you not once believed him.
“Are you sure about that? ‘Cause if I ask Elektra, I’m sure she will tell me the truth.”
“No.”
It was at that moment you lost all of your trust in him—in what could have been or should have been the two of you, forever—and it was also the moment that Matt realized he had lost you.
You believed that he took everything you ever were that day because your life revolved around him, and only him.
You remember him opening his mouth, having the audacity to apologize. “I’m sorry,” he said, begging you not to leave.
“Fuck you!” you had never sworn at him until that day.
You still remember the way the necklace with his initial felt when you tore it off your neck and tossed it at his feet. He knew you better than anyone, and you felt like you finally belonged somewhere. That necklace was a symbol of your undying love, or so you thought, anyway. Now you know that he may have known you to some extent, but you didn’t matter enough for him not to climb into bed with his ex-girlfriend.
You couldn’t even look at the necklace. He told you, “This is a piece of my heart,” when he gave it to you on a snowy Christmas Day three years ago. You cherished it the same way you cherished his soul. He was broken, but he was your broken man. He was everything to you.
Matt Murdock was your moon, your son, and your entire universe. It all seemed far away that you could ever feel about anyone this way again.
You saw a future with him. Married, a house in the suburbs, and working with Foggy and Karen in their new law office after everything they’ve been through. You were a hopeful person back then.
Karen told you that he went to a party a couple of weeks after you separated. He didn’t look like himself. You wonder if he felt anxious, knowing his only source of comfort was no longer there. You wouldn’t know until you asked him, but you refused to answer his calls.
Part of you felt euphoric, knowing that he was broken too, but you also felt angry because he was the reason you found your heart beyond repair as he stepped on it like a burning cigarette, and in your mind, he had no right to feel this way.
You’re a fucking traitor, Matthew Murdock! I wish we’d never met.
“Another one for the lady,” a voice says beside you.
Your empty glass of tequila disappears and a full one slides in its place. In your drunken haze, you see a head of brown hair, and his smirk makes you wonder if there’s more to him than he lets on.
“Thank you,” you murmur, tipping your glass to the stranger.
“Nah, don’t thank me.” He gets up from his seat and sits down on the empty bar stool next to you. “You look miserable,” he says.
“What if I am?”
“I’d tell you I know the feeling.”
You huff but offer the stranger your hand. You introduce yourself.
He smiles. Your name rolls off his tongue effortlessly. “Frank,” he introduces himself in return. “Castle.”
“Nice to meet you,” you say.
You thought nothing and no one could pull you out of the dark hole your breakup tossed you into. You believed yourself dead and long beyond the point of redemption. You accepted it. You swallowed in your misery, giving up on finding a new purpose in your life because the one great thing you had was no longer yours. He fell into a grave that he dug for himself, and he dragged your relationship down with him.
Looking into Frank’s eyes now though, you no longer feel like a corpse. And you realize that you are not dead, not at all—you are very much alive.
The door almost breaks off its hinges when Frank shoves you into his apartment and back against it. The decision to come back to his place was fueled by a lot of alcohol and the way he looked at you. You were desperate to feel something other than the hollow ache that has consumed you every day for months. His eyes told you that he may be able to give you just what you need, no strings attached.
The way he kisses you breathes new life into your mangled soul. He swallows your mouth and your needy moans with his own, and his tongue forces itself down your throat as your teeth clash in a fight for dominance. You’re both tipsy, but he seems to know just what he’s doing.
His calloused fingers burn against your skin. In the back of your mind, Matt is still so present. His hands are the ones you can’t help but compare him to.
The way he used to kiss you before fucking you into the mattress for hours on end, switching between tasting and fingering you until you were whimpering and begging him for release might have screwed you up forever. He told you one night that he wanted to ruin you for any other man. Back then, you both still believed that you would grow old together.
It is truly ironic how fast things change when you are truly happy and believe that nothing can burst your bubble.
Frank’s large hands brace against the door on either side of your head. His lips disappear from yours. “Who is he?” he asks, his voice rough like gravel.
You meet his eyes, unsure of what to say. Your mind is everywhere but here, and yet it is right with him. Whether it is alcohol or self-loathing, you’re not sure.
“What?” you whisper.
“You’re trynna forget someone. Who is it?”
He is a lot more perceptive than you thought.
You swallow, blood rushing to your head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t–” you didn’t what? Think? You feel utterly pathetic.
Instead of throwing you out though, like you expected he would, he reaches out to caress your cheek. His eyes soften as they gaze at you. “Whoever he is, he obviously didn’t treat you right,” he says. “If you want to go, I’m not stoppin’ you, but if you wanna forget whoever is fuckin’ with your head, I’ll make damn sure you forget his name by the end of tonight.”
There is something excitingly terrifying about the look in his eyes. A shiver runs down your spine, and your thighs clench at the thought of feeling his hands somewhere other than your face. Somewhere other than your hips and thighs. His kisses knocked the air out of your lungs. You want more, you need more, but you don’t know if you can take it. Not him—even though you’re also not quite sure if you can take him—but also the offer he is presenting to you. As lucrative as it sounds, fuck, you are not over Matt. And you’re not sure if you can ever forget him.
You want to though. You have to. And you want to be thoroughly fucked into the next day and forget the name of the man that makes you so fucking angry.
“Talk to me,” Frank coaxes your head toward him. “Do you wanna forget the useless bastard that made you feel this way?”
“Yes,” you manage a breathless whisper.
“Did he hurt you? Break your heart?”
You nod.
“You deserve better.” His grip tightens, and his hand slowly slides to your neck. “I’m not, but I’ll fuck you so hard, you’ll forget his name and scream mine loud enough for this fuckin’ city to know who’s making you feel good. ‘s that what you want, hm?”
He’s dangerous, but that has never turned you off, even when it should have.
And when you finally open your mouth and tell him, “Yes, please. Make me forget,” the switch inside of him flicks completely.
He takes his time to worship between your thighs. His tongue buried in your pussy, his lips sucking on your clit without mercy. He eats you out roughly but sensually, keeping you spread wide open for him with both of his hands and a force unmatched—like a five-course meal, and he has all the time in the world for you.
You’re lost in the throes of pleasure. You want to buck your hips against his mouth because no matter what he does, you’re on fire and you just can’t get enough, but he is so powerful that you can’t fight him. He has you at his mercy, your body in his hands, and all the control in the world over you.
You pull at his hair, moaning helplessly as he feasts on your pussy. You’re going mad, you’re sure. He’s doing this on purpose, driving you to the edge before stopping the wave. Frank waits until your orgasm is just far enough for you to last a little longer, kissing the inside of your thighs, and then he dives right back into your wet folds. He thrusts his tongue into your hole, licks up to your clit, and then sucks on the swollen bundle until your legs are shaking in his hands.
“Jesus, Frank!” you moan out. A trail of sweat runs from your temple down to your breasts.
Your hands search for something to hold onto, tangling in the sheets and the pillow behind your head before pulling at the fabric. You tried pulling at his hair, but he wouldn’t let you.
“That’s right,” he growls. “Come for me.”
Your back arches off the mattress. His name leaves your lips in a desperate shout as your orgasm crashes into you.
“Attagirl.”
Your brain is hulled into an endless fog, but Frank doesn’t stop.
Soon, you’re on your stomach, gripping the headboard as he pounds into you from behind. He is long and thick, and with every thrust, he forces your face deeper into the pillows. Your eyes have rolled back into your head. He hits that spongy spot inside of you whenever he pleases, and the gurgled moans from the pit of your throat spur him on to speed up, change the angle and thrust even deeper.
He pulls out all the way, thrusting back into you with full force until he is completely sheathed in your pussy. Your heat consumes him, and he sees red. But so do you. He has reduced you to a few incoherent thoughts, babbling his name in the wake of the drool that is dripping from the corner of your mouth.
And when you come this time, it is pulled back straight against his chest with his fingers rubbing circles over your already abused clit. You come with a scream of his name, and nothing else matters but his cum in your cunt and the unbelievable depth of the feelings he is eliciting within you.
You drop to the mattress like a wet towel, covered in his and your cum, and your sweat that has mingled with his. His smell lingers in the sheets as you bury your nose in it. He collapses on top of you. The crushing weight of him offers a sense of comfort that almost makes you cry. And he holds you as though you mean more to him than a One-Night stand he picked up to help forget a man who broke her heart.
“What’d he do?” Frank asks into the silence later that night.
You are lying on his bed, covered by only his thin sheets. He’s sitting on the other side, nursing a glass of Bourbon. He held you, he cleaned you up, and he offered you some clothes, which you denied. He is kinder to you than you thought he would be, and it warms your heart in a way you can only deem utterly dangerous with how vulnerable you are. Broken people make dumb decisions, and you do not ever want to go through the same pain again.
At least you know that you are still desired. That you’re not dead. Perhaps, there is still hope for a better future. You made Matt Murdock your life for the longest time, and maybe, as you realize now, that was a mistake. There is more to life than him, and you can live without him. That it took fucking a stranger after weeks of being miserable baffles you, but some things are just meant to happen. Maybe it was destiny, after all.
You look at him when Frank repeats his question. “What’d the bastard do, hm?” he asks.
Where do you even start?
When you last checked in on him through your mutual friends—you know it wasn’t the best choice, but you couldn’t help it—they told you that grew his beard, and he last had a haircut when you were still together. It suits him, apparently, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at a picture of him.
Foggy told you that he isn’t taking home girls when they go to a bar, even though he could have all of them. He’s sad. He drowns himself at work and beats his fist bloody every night. The old you would have jumped up to help him. And it is true that you will probably always love him, in a way, but you refuse to crawl back to him.
The more you gave, the more he took, and at the first chance at getting a woman he claimed to no longer love when she came back into your lives, he took her. He couldn’t have wanted you as badly as he claimed if that was enough for him to flush years of loving each other and going through hell together down the drain, knowing it would break your heart into a million pieces. That is probably the worst part about all of it.
You take a deep breath. Frank is still staring at you intently, waiting for an answer. “He fucked his ex,” you finally confess. “Four years of being together and it still wasn’t enough.”
His grip tightens around his glass. “Want me to pay him a visit?”
You chuckle, but you know that he would. “No. But thank you.”
Matt was fading long before you left. Even if you did choose to forgive him, you couldn’t be his friend, so things are better the way they are now. You paid the ultimate price for sacrificing your heart to a man who had too many struggles to deal with himself.
In the silence, you find a little light. “At least I don’t have to pretend to like Jazz anymore,” you say.
Frank takes another sip, asking, “Jazz?”
“Yeah, Jazz. He loves it. He…He’s special. Well, he was to me, anyway.”
“Special? Fuck, the guy did a number on you, huh?”
You scoff. “You have no idea.”
The only way back to your dignity is to learn how to be without him. You have to turn yourself back into a mystery and learn how to trust someone again before your fragile heart breaks again.
“You still talk?” Frank asks.
You shake your head. “No. It’s over now,” you say. “We don’t talk anymore.”
“Told ya. You deserve better.”
“Nah.” You reach for his glass, taking a sip of the bitter liquor that you used to despise. Looking up at him through hooded eyes, you stretch his leg toward him.
You need to keep forgetting Matt’s name, no matter what it takes or the reminiscing will surely kill you.
“Right now,” you murmur with an irresistible smirk that makes him leap at you as soon as the words pass your lips, “I just need to forget he ever existed by screaming someone else’s name.”
Frank captures your lips in a bruising kiss, leaving you speechless and breathless all the same.
Matt chased you, he caught you, and then he lost you. And now that Frank has you, you never want to look back.
Now that you don't talk.
I don't have a tag list for Frank, so I'm just leaving this here.
#frank castle x reader#frank castle x female reader#frank castle smut#frank castle#the punisher#matt murdock#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock angst#matt murdock x f!reader#matt murdock x you#frank castle x you#daredevil#charlie cox#from the vault#bonus fic#inspired by: now that we don't talk
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