Cauqhtz - Daydreamer - Tumblr Blog
Ty
this is so mean but sometimes i see published writing and suddenly no longer feel insecure about my own writing ability. like well okay that got published so im guessing i dont have much to worry about
Me
Slow burn but it's written by an impatient person
Thank you. I needed this
Whole-heartedly BEGGING writers to unlearn everything schools taught you about how long a paragraph is. If theres a new subject, INCLUDING ACTIONS, theres a new paragraph. A paragraph can be a single word too btw stop making things unreadable
STOP DOING THIS IN INJURY FICS!!
Bleeding:
Blood is warm. if blood is cold, you’re really fucking feverish or the person is dead. it’s only sticky after it coagulates.
It smells! like iron, obv, but very metallic. heavy blood loss has a really potent smell, someone will notice.
Unless in a state of shock or fight-flight mode, a character will know they’re bleeding. stop with the ‘i didn’t even feel it’ yeah you did. drowsiness, confusion, pale complexion, nausea, clumsiness, and memory loss are symptoms to include.
blood flow ebbs. sometimes it’s really gushin’, other times it’s a trickle. could be the same wound at different points.
it’s slow. use this to your advantage! more sad writer times hehehe.
Stab wounds:
I have been mildly impaled with rebar on an occasion, so let me explain from experience. being stabbed is bizarre af. your body is soft. you can squish it, feel it jiggle when you move. whatever just stabbed you? not jiggly. it feels stiff and numb after the pain fades. often, stab wounds lead to nerve damage. hands, arms, feet, neck, all have more motor nerve clusters than the torso. fingers may go numb or useless if a tendon is nicked.
also, bleeding takes FOREVER to stop, as mentioned above.
if the wound has an exit wound, like a bullet clean through or a spear through the whole limb, DONT REMOVE THE OBJECT. character will die. leave it, bandage around it. could be a good opportunity for some touchy touchy :)
whump writers - good opportunity for caretaker angst and fluff w/ trying to manhandle whumpee into a good position to access both sites
Concussion:
despite the amnesia and confusion, people ain’t that articulate. even if they’re mumbling about how much they love (person) - if that’s ur trope - or a secret, it’s gonna make no sense. garbled nonsense, no full sentences, just a coupla words here and there.
if the concussion is mild, they’re gonna feel fine. until….bam! out like a light. kinda funny to witness, but also a good time for some caretaking fluff.
Fever:
you die at 110F. no 'oh no his fever is 120F!! ahhh!“ no his fever is 0F because he’s fucking dead. you lose consciousness around 103, sometimes less if it’s a child. brain damage occurs at over 104.
ACTUAL SYMPTOMS:
sluggishness
seizures (severe)
inability to speak clearly
feeling chilly/shivering
nausea
pain
delirium
symptoms increase as fever rises. slow build that secret sickness! feverish people can be irritable, maybe a bit of sass followed by some hurt/comfort. never hurt anybody.
ALSO about fevers - they absolutely can cause hallucinations. Sometimes these alter memory and future memory processing. they're scary shit guys.
fevers are a big deal! bad shit can happen! milk that till its dry (chill out) and get some good hurt/comfort whumpee shit.
keep writing u sadistic nerds xox love you
ALSO I FORGOT LEMME ADD ON:
YOU DIE AT 85F
sorry I forgot. at that point for a sustained period of time you're too cold to survive.
pt 2
ORIGINAL PROJECTS
“Every night I lie in bed, the brightest colors fill my head,”
“A million dreams are keeping me awake.”
PROJECT.HORSEMEN
A four-book romance series set against the glamorous backdrop of the art world. The Daigo family, pillars of the industry, navigate love, ambition, and legacy. From art galleries and exhibitions to movie premieres and high-stakes heists of stolen masterpieces, the series intertwines romance with the intrigue of the elite. Each book focuses on a different member of the family—including the patriarch himself—unveiling their personal struggles and desires as they face unexpected twists in their pursuit of love.
Ranging from:
Writing - male x fem (Fem dom x Male Sub)
Sculpting - male x male (body guard)
Painting or Music - male x fem
Collecting - male x fem (flashback, set before the first three books.)
OUTLINE - DRAFT ZERO
“I think of what the world could be,”
“A vision of the one I see,”
PROJECT.RECKONING
A romantasy trilogy about a hellhound on a mission to retrieve the relics of her people and find her fathers remains. She crosses paths with one of the world’s strongest warlocks, who grows suspicious of her after she washes up on the shore of his village. Set against the backdrop of an annual party that attracts both supernatural and human elites, where fortunes are made overnight, the real magic happens at the after party—revealing a ugly underbelly of myths, supernatural soldiers, and unexpected romance.
OUTLINE - DRAFT ZERO
”A million dreams is all it’s gonna take,“
“Oh a million dreams for the world we’re gonna make,”
PROJECT. AVATAR
In a dystopian world where the entire population was turned to stone eons ago, the remnants of technology have fused with the planet and statues. When the OC awakens, she finds everything she knew about her world was a lie. As she navigates this eerie new reality, she discovers that history is doomed to repeat itself.
OUTLINING
“They can say, they can say it all sounds crazy,“
“They can say, they can say we've lost our minds,“
PROJECT.ISLE
A dystopian trilogy where a group of people are dropped onto a mysterious island, alongside some of the world’s most dangerous criminals. The island has one rule: join them or die. Unbeknownst to the newcomers, the island is broadcasted live as entertainment for the rich, who pay to control the inhabitants, forcing them to do anything for the right price.
OUTLINING
”I don't care, I don't care if they call us crazy,“
“Runaway to a world that we design,“
PROJECT.WOMAN
In this mystery thriller, a woman wakes up handcuffed to a hospital bed with a detective at her side. Her first question is about her husband’s whereabouts, only to discover that not only was he was he dead; she is the sole suspect of the crime. Thus begins the investigation, unraveling the events that led to this tragic moment.
OUTLINING
— All rights reserved ©CAUQHTZ2024, do not steal my work.
MASTERLIST
“Something in me, died when I took a loss…”
“’Cause now i want to try again…”
ORIGINAL PROJECTS
None of these are published yet. So I’ll only be posting previews and sneak peeks.
“but I dont want to die again…”
“And so I put my heart into my work until my heart no longer hurts. Thats when I knew I had to lose to get a win.”
FAN FICTIONS
Wrote these on wattpad and still have some more to write <3
REQUESTS
My requests are OPEN.
“I guess you have to die…”
“To finally feel alive.”
CAUQHTZ TALKS
I talk about one piece, writing, everything really.
linktree: https://linktr.ee/caughtz
Writing Tips Master Post
Character writing/development:
Character Arcs
Making Character Profiles
Character Development
Comic Relief Arc
Internal Conflict
Character Voices
Creating Distinct Characters
Suicidal Urges/Martyr Complex
Creating Likeable Characters
Writing Strong Female Characters
Writing POC Characters
Building Tension
Plot devices/development:
Intrigue in Storytelling
Enemies to Lovers
Alternatives to Killing Characters
Worldbuilding
Misdirection
Consider Before Killing Characters
Foreshadowing
Narrative:
Emphasising the Stakes
Avoid Info-Dumping
Writing Without Dialogue
1st vs. 2nd vs. 3rd Perspective
Fight Scenes (+ More)
Transitions
Pacing
Writing Prologues
Dialogue Tips
Writing War
Writing Cheating
Worldbuilding:
Worldbuilding: Questions to Consider
Creating Laws/Rules in Fantasy Worlds
Book writing:
Connected vs. Stand-Alone Series
A & B Stories
Writer resources:
Writing YouTube Channels, Podcasts, & Blogs
Online Writing Resources
Outlining/Writing/Editing Software
Writer help:
Losing Passion/Burnout
Overcoming Writer's Block
Fantasy terms:
How To Name Fantasy Races (Step-by-Step)
Naming Elemental Races
Naming Fire-Related Races
How To Name Fantasy Places
Ask games:
Character Ask Game #1
Character Ask Game #2
Character Ask Game #3
Miscellaneous:
1000 Follower Post
2000 Follower Poll
Writing Fantasy
Keeping this for myself
How I learned to write smarter, not harder
(aka, how to write when you're hella ADHD lol)
A reader commented on my current long fic asking how I write so well. I replied with an essay of my honestly pretty non-standard writing advice (that they probably didn't actually want lol) Now I'm gonna share it with you guys and hopefully there's a few of you out there who will benefit from my past mistakes and find some useful advice in here. XD Since I started doing this stuff, which are all pretty easy changes to absorb into your process if you want to try them, I now almost never get writer's block.
The text of the original reply is indented, and I've added some additional commentary to expand upon and clarify some of the concepts.
As for writing well, I usually attribute it to the fact that I spent roughly four years in my late teens/early 20s writing text roleplay with a friend for hours every single day. Aside from the constant practice that provided, having a live audience immediately reacting to everything I wrote made me think a lot about how to make as many sentences as possible have maximum impact so that I could get that kind of fun reaction. (Which is another reason why comments like yours are so valuable to fanfic writers! <3) The other factors that have improved my writing are thus: 1. Writing nonlinearly. I used to write a whole story in order, from the first sentence onward. If there was a part I was excited to write, I slogged through everything to get there, thinking that it would be my reward once I finished everything that led up to that. It never worked. XD It was miserable. By the time I got to the part I wanted to write, I had beaten the scene to death in my head imagining all the ways I could write it, and it a) no longer interested me and b) could not live up to my expectations because I couldn't remember all my ideas I'd had for writing it. The scene came out mediocre and so did everything leading up to it. Since then, I learned through working on VN writing (I co-own a game studio and we have some visual novels that I write for) that I don't have to write linearly. If I'm inspired to write a scene, I just write it immediately. It usually comes out pretty good even in a first draft! But then I also have it for if I get more ideas for that scene later, and I can just edit them in. The scenes come out MUCH stronger because of this. And you know what else I discovered? Those scenes I slogged through before weren't scenes I had no inspiration for, I just didn't have any inspiration for them in that moment! I can't tell you how many times there was a scene I had no interest in writing, and then a week later I'd get struck by the perfect inspiration for it! Those are scenes I would have done a very mediocre job on, and now they can be some of the most powerful scenes because I gave them time to marinate. Inspiration isn't always linear, so writing doesn't have to be either!
Some people are the type that joyfully write linearly. I have a friend like this--she picks up the characters and just continues playing out the next scene. Her story progresses through the entire day-by-day lives of the characters; it never timeskips more than a few hours. She started writing and posting just eight months ago, she's about an eighth of the way through her planned fic timeline, and the content she has so far posted to AO3 for it is already 450,000 words long. But most of us are normal humans. We're not, for the most part, wired to create linearly. We consume linearly, we experience linearly, so we assume we must also create linearly. But actually, a lot of us really suffer from trying to force ourselves to create this way, and we might not even realize it. If you're the kind of person who thinks you need to carrot-on-a-stick yourself into writing by saving the fun part for when you finally write everything that happens before it: Stop. You're probably not a linear writer. You're making yourself suffer for no reason and your writing is probably suffering for it. At least give nonlinear writing a try before you assume you can't write if you're not baiting or forcing yourself into it!! Remember: Writing is fun. You do this because it's fun, because it's your hobby. If you're miserable 80% of the time you're doing it, you're probably doing it wrong!
2. Rereading my own work. I used to hate reading my own work. I wouldn't even edit it usually. I would write it and slap it online and try not to look at it again. XD Writing nonlinearly forced me to start rereading because I needed to make sure scenes connected together naturally and it also made it easier to get into the headspace of the story to keep writing and fill in the blanks and get new inspiration. Doing this built the editing process into my writing process--I would read a scene to get back in the headspace, dislike what I had written, and just clean it up on the fly. I still never ever sit down to 'edit' my work. I just reread it to prep for writing and it ends up editing itself. Many many scenes in this fic I have read probably a dozen times or more! (And now, I can actually reread my own work for enjoyment!) Another thing I found from doing this that it became easy to see patterns and themes in my work and strengthen them. Foreshadowing became easy. Setting up for jokes or plot points became easy. I didn't have to plan out my story in advance or write an outline, because the scenes themselves because a sort of living outline on their own. (Yes, despite all the foreshadowing and recurring thematic elements and secret hidden meanings sprinkled throughout this story, it actually never had an outline or a plan for any of that. It's all a natural byproduct of writing nonlinearly and rereading.)
Unpopular writing opinion time: You don't need to make a detailed outline.
Some people thrive on having an outline and planning out every detail before they sit down to write. But I know for a lot of us, we don't know how to write an outline or how to use it once we've written it. The idea of making one is daunting, and the advice that it's the only way to write or beat writer's block is demoralizing. So let me explain how I approach "outlining" which isn't really outlining at all.
I write in a Notion table, where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry. I do this because it makes writing nonlinearly VASTLY more intuitive and straightforward than writing in a single document. (If you're familiar with Notion, this probably makes perfect sense to you. If you're not, imagine something a little like a more contained Google Sheets, but every row has a title cell that opens into a unique Google Doc when you click on it. And it's not as slow and clunky as the Google suite lol) (Edit from the future: I answered an ask with more explanation on how I use Notion for non-linear writing here.) When I sit down to begin a new fic idea, I make a quick entry in the table for every scene I already know I'll want or need, with the entries titled with a couple words or a sentence that describes what will be in that scene so I'll remember it later. Basically, it's the most absolute bare-bones skeleton of what I vaguely know will probably happen in the story.
Then I start writing, wherever I want in the list. As I write, ideas for new scenes and new connections and themes will emerge over time, and I'll just slot them in between the original entries wherever they naturally fit, rearranging as necessary, so that I won't forget about them later when I'm ready to write them. As an example, my current long fic started with a list of roughly 35 scenes that I knew I wanted or needed, for a fic that will probably be around 100k words (which I didn't know at the time haha). As of this writing, it has expanded to 129 scenes. And since I write them directly in the page entries for the table, the fic is actually its own outline, without any additional effort on my part. As I said in the comment reply--a living outline!
This also made it easier to let go of the notion that I had to write something exactly right the first time. (People always say you should do this, but how many of us do? It's harder than it sounds! I didn't want to commit to editing later! I didn't want to reread my work! XD) I know I'm going to edit it naturally anyway, so I can feel okay giving myself permission to just write it approximately right and I can fix it later. And what I found from that was that sometimes what I believed was kind of meh when I wrote it was actually totally fine when I read it later! Sometimes the internal critic is actually wrong. 3. Marinating in the headspace of the story. For the first two months I worked on [fic], I did not consume any media other than [fandom the fic is in]. I didn't watch, read, or play anything else. Not even mobile games. (And there wasn't really much fan content for [fandom] to consume either. Still isn't, really. XD) This basically forced me to treat writing my story as my only source of entertainment, and kept me from getting distracted or inspired to write other ideas and abandon this one.
As an aside, I don't think this is a necessary step for writing, but if you really want to be productive in a short burst, I do highly recommend going on a media consumption hiatus. Not forever, obviously! Consuming media is a valuable tool for new inspiration, and reading other's work (both good and bad, as long as you think critically to identify the differences!) is an invaluable resource for improving your writing.
When I write, I usually lay down, close my eyes, and play the scene I'm interested in writing in my head. I even take a ten-minute nap now and then during this process. (I find being in a state of partial drowsiness, but not outright sleepiness, makes writing easier and better. Sleep helps the brain process and make connections!) Then I roll over to the laptop next to me and type up whatever I felt like worked for the scene. This may mean I write half a sentence at a time between intervals of closed-eye-time XD
People always say if you're stuck, you need to outline.
What they actually mean by that (whether they realize it or not) is that if you're stuck, you need to brainstorm. You need to marinate. You don't need to plan what you're doing, you just need to give yourself time to think about it!
What's another framing for brainstorming for your fic? Fantasizing about it! Planning is work, but fantasizing isn't.
You're already fantasizing about it, right? That's why you're writing it. Just direct that effort toward the scenes you're trying to write next! Close your eyes, lay back, and fantasize what the characters do and how they react.
And then quickly note down your inspirations so you don't forget, haha.
And if a scene is so boring to you that even fantasizing about it sucks--it's probably a bad scene.
If it's boring to write, it's going to be boring to read. Ask yourself why you wanted that scene. Is it even necessary? Can you cut it? Can you replace it with a different scene that serves the same purpose but approaches the problem from a different angle? If you can't remove the troublesome scene, what can you change about it that would make it interesting or exciting for you to write?
And I can't write sitting up to save my damn life. It's like my brain just stops working if I have to sit in a chair and stare at a computer screen. I need to be able to lie down, even if I don't use it! Talking walks and swinging in a hammock are also fantastic places to get scene ideas worked out, because the rhythmic motion also helps our brain process. It's just a little harder to work on a laptop in those scenarios. XD
In conclusion: Writing nonlinearly is an amazing tool for kicking writer's block to the curb. There's almost always some scene you'll want to write. If there isn't, you need to re-read or marinate.
Or you need to use the bathroom, eat something, or sleep. XD Seriously, if you're that stuck, assess your current physical condition. You might just be unable to focus because you're uncomfortable and you haven't realized it yet.
Anyway! I hope that was helpful, or at least interesting! XD Sorry again for the text wall. (I think this is the longest comment reply I've ever written!)
And same to you guys on tumblr--I hope this was helpful or at least interesting. XD Reblogs appreciated if so! (Maybe it'll help someone else!)
How about a blurb which continues the day after the fight with Peter? Some fluff and smut maybe? Oh! And your amazing humour pretty please🥺
part 1
warning: smut (dry-humping) language, angst, fluff, Harry Osborn, mentions of masturbation/sex,
—————
Your hand was on your chest, hyperventilating, as you barged into your dorm. Mj jumped, spilling some chips on her bed.
“What the fu—what happened??” Mj was quickly pushing her laptop aside.
“Men are fucking SHIT!” You shouted, groaning as you tried pull your shoes off.
“Y/n, what happened—“
“Fuck!” You huffed, finally pulling the converse off, slamming it on the floor. Mj bit her lip, closing her laptop sitting on the edge of her bed, legs dangling.
“Yo, we’re gonna get a noise complaint, look at me— look at me! breathe y/n—” Mj snapped, finally catching your attention. “Now, what happened?”
You inhaled sharply as Mj was looking up, trying to meet your eye. “I think Peter broke up with me, o-or I broke up with him, or we’re on a fucking break—I-I don’t know—“ you rambled, running your hands through your hair, holding the sides of your head as a sob erupted from the back of your throat. Mj was quickly jumping off her bed, hugging you from behind.
“Cmon sit down,” Mj speaks softly, dragging you to your bed letting you bury your face in the pillows as Mj soothes her hand over your arm. She let you get everything out, until the sadness turned into frustration and you were finally ranting about what happened.
“Yooo what the fuck??!” Mj baffles, passing her cookies to you. You nod, stuffing your face.
“Fucking asshole.”
“Complete fucking dick.” Mj agrees.
“Whatever,” you mumble, grabbing Mjs laptop, opening it up.
————
“Okay um, Ferraros, Reece’s, flowers, those chocolates, gift card—“
“Get rid of the gift card,” Harry shakes his head, sitting up on his bed, groaning. “She’s your girlfriend, you kissed another girl—“
“She kissed me—“ Harry’s green eyes pierce Peters. “Right-fuck sorry.”
“What else?” Harry rubs his bare chest, cheeks flushed.
“That’s it—there isn’t a girl hiding here right, it’s 11 am,” Peter looks around, only receiving a scoff from Harry.
“I’ve got standards, it’s too early,” Harry pulls at his hair, keeping his other hand on his lap, holding the covers close. Peters gaze burning into Harry’s, until he cracked. “Was just relieving some stress, is that what you wanna hear!” Harry blurts.
“Jesus, man—“
“You always ask for it,” Harry defends.
“I don’t—ugh-just whatever—is this good enough, would you forgive me if you were her??” Peter asks, packing up the items in his backpack.
“I’d always forgive you Peter, your my true love—“ Harry reaches for Peter’s neck, sitting up on his knees. The covers loosely held around his private with his hand.
“Harry—“ Peter huffs, trying to untangle himself from Harry until he decides to tackle him. The two wrestling until Peter yanks the cover off Harry causing a shriek to escape his lips, quickly covering himself.
“Dude!” Harry’s face burns red, panting lightly, an amused look on Peter’s face.
“Are you done?” Peter waves the cover, letting Harry snatch it, flipping Peter off.
“You going now?” Harry asks, grabbing some boxers and slipping them on when Peter turned his back.
“Yea, her classes start at 12, so I’m gonna try and catch her before,” Peter says while fixing his hair in front of the mirror, Harry appearing beside him licking his palms ready to soothe Peter’s chocolate curls, until Peter was pushing his arms away.
“I’m helping you,” Harry chuckles, going over to Peter again.
“You were just jacking off, you didn’t even wash your fucking hands!” Peter shrieks, ducking under Harry’s arms, coming up behind him.
“I didn’t cum though—“
“Still touched him—“
“He’s very clean—“
“You didn’t shower last night and you went out,” Harry’s arms cross realizing Peter’s right.
“shit,” Harry pauses. “I should call her, Valentine—“
“Valerie—“
“Valerie— fucking love her—“
“What?!” Peter yelps, Harry’s green eyes widening.
“Shit not like that!” Harry tosses a bottle at Peter. “I meant I love fucking her—christ man, who do you think I am?” Harry shakes his head in disapproval.
“You’re unbelievable,” Peter rubs his nose.
Harry chuckles. “Better run before you miss y/n, be nice, charming, apologetic, kiss her ass—actually I could do that part for you cuz her ass is—“
Peter tackles Harry.
————
“Y/n!” Your body tenses at the voice. Walking faster. “Y/n! Wait!”
Peter’s hand stops you, his chest heaving. Your jaw clenches, looking away.
“Hi,” Peter gulps.
“What do you want?” You run a hand through your hair, Peter noticing your bloodshot eyes.
“I um, I wanted to talk?” Peter starts, his throat tightening the more you avoid his gaze.
“I have to get to class, Peter,” you move around him, only for him to appear beside you.
“We-We can talk on the way,” Peter stammers, keeping up with your fast pace. Your jaw set as Peter starts to ramble.
“Im so fucking sorry y/n, I should’ve told you, I’m sorry I lied, I fucked up, I did, it’s all my fault I swear,” Peter was panting as he tried to keep up with your pace, his heart racing and his words stumbling—“I-I shouldn’t have lied and told Gwen we weren’t dating—“
You froze, Peter still rambling and walking ahead before abruptly stopping.
“Y/n?—“
“You told Gwen we weren’t dating?” You finally met his eyes, watching them turn into pure fear.
“Y-Yes....” Peter gulped, shifting on his feet as you ran a hand through your hair.
“Why the fuck—are you embarrassed of me—what??”
“No! No I wasn’t embarrassed of you—I just needed her help with studying and she’s in most of my classes—“
“So you chose your ex over me?” You looked up at Peter, eyes glazed.
“No, no I didn’t,” Peter was hesitant to touch you, but stayed close. “I just, I lied to her—but I’m pretty sure she knew cuz you always called during—“
“You’ve been lying a lot, Peter,” you swallow thickly.
“I just—not a lot, it was just, one big...lie...like a two-parter—“ you shook your head, tired of listening.
“I fucking can’t right now,” you brush past his shoulder, Peter groaning, pulling at his hair as you disappear into the building.
————
“I fucked up—I totally fucked up—she didn’t know I told Gwen that we weren’t dating—“ Peter rambled into his phone.
Harry listening, a slight pant coming from his side. “You didn’t fucking tell her during the fight??”
“I don’t remember, she was yelling at me and I was freaking out and I yelled back, I can’t remember every fucking word!!” Peter was pacing on the open lawn, students spread out studying or eating on the grass.
“Fuck—why would you tell her—“ Harry swears, Peter’s body freezing, jaw clenching with irritation.
“Please tell me you aren’t getting fucked while we’re speaking,” Peter speaks through clenched teeth.
“I’m not—“ Harry pants. “I’m doing the fucking,” Harry chuckles, Peter hearing a slap followed by a very prominent moan.
“Harry!” Peter yells through the phone, drawing the attention of some near by students. “For the love of god—I’m having a fucking crisis here!”
“Jesus, take a breather, first off did you give her the gifts—“
“She doesn’t want the bloody gifts if she fucking hates me—“ Peter yells into the phone, covering his mouth so he isn’t raising his voice to loud to draw attention.
“Okay—oh fuck, good girl—“ Peter pushes the phone from his ear, rolling his eyes. Harry clears his throat, Peter bringing the phone back to his ear. “Where are you right now?”
“Main lawn, front of the library,” Peter answers.
“I’ll be there, give me five minutes—“ The line cut.
———10 minutes later ———
Harry was jogging bare foot, black sweats hanging loose on his hips, chest glistening and white T-shirt in hand.
“Where are your shoes?” Peter’s eyes wide.
“I um, might’ve moaned some other girls name and Valerie soaked my shoes in beer then tossed them out her window. She also cut a hole in my boxers—but I got my clothes before she threw em.” Harry says, slipping on his shirt, ruffling his sweaty black curls. “Gonna miss her,” he clicks his tongue in disappointment.
Peter rolls his eyes. “Okay now onto your fuck up,” Harry throws an arm over Peter, walking him to a picnic bench, sitting across from each other.
“Clearly you can’t do shit without fucking it up, so I will make it as simple as I can, pull yourself together and tell her point blank you fucked up and you won’t stop fighting for her because you love her—“
“I love her,” Peter rubs his face, Harry ruffling Peter’s hair.
“Yes you do, I know you do, now man up and fucking get your girl back. Honestly if you give up I’ll just go and get her—“ Peters hand connects with Harry’s cheek.
“Fuck—“ Peter slaps Harry again. “Dude—“ slap. “Stop!” slap. “I’m serious!—“ Harry caught Peter’s wrist, leaning over to slap Peter face.
“You can’t slap me!” Peter huffs, pushing Harry’s hands away.
“You fucking slapped me!—“
“Cuz you’re talking about my girl!” Peter barks, Harry rolling his eyes in amusement.
“She won’t be your girl if you don’t run, her class is over,” Harry taps his empty wrist.
“Fuck—“
————
“On a scale of one to ten, how mad are you?” Peter asks, jogging behind you, you groan, walking faster. “Y/n, please—“
“Peter I have to get to my class, you know I’m always late for this one, so just...fuck off—“ Peter gulps, still running.
“Can I please talk to you later? Can I come by your dorm?—“
“I’ll come to yours,” you blurt, eyes widening at how the words fell from your lips so quickly.
“Really?—shit okay, good luck on your test!” Peter cheers, watching you run into the lecture room.
Later that evening you stood outside Peter’s dorm, heart beating rapidly, hands clammy as you tried to wipe them on your hoodie. Taking a deep breath, you raised your hand.
You barely got a second knock in before the door was swinging open.
“Hi,” Peter beams, biting his lip as he looked at your crossed arms, and distant eyes. “Do you wanna come in?”
You shrugged, biting your lip as you walked in. Peter sighed in relief, closing the door. You stood awkwardly in the middle of the dorm, Peter leaning agaisnt the door.
“You’re the one who wanted to talk,” You push, Peter nodding.
“Yea um, I did—i uh—do you want a beer—“
“I’m fine.” Your jaw is set, eyes fluttering around the dorm.
Peter hums, clearing his throat. “Okay uh, i just—I wanted to start by saying sorry.”
“You’ve said that—“
“Well that’s cuz I really am sorry—I fucked up on a catastrophic level—I fucking ruined the one good thing in my life because i’m a fucking idiot,” Peter runs his hand through his hair.
“You are an idiot,” you mumble, avoiding his eyes. Peter exhales, leaning against the small counter as you stand on the opposite side arms crossed.
“I fucked up by trying to handle two things—“
“You called me an animal, Peter,” you spit, eyes flickering up briefly.
“I know I did—it just came out, I’m sorry, you’re not an animal, I—fuck y/n—I really fucked up, I’m sorry,” Peter’s voice shakes.
“So you expect me to forgive you?” You look up at Peter. “I’ve known you for awhile Peter, I’m very aware that you’re capable of fucking a lot of shit up, trust me—but this was bullshit—this shit only happens in movies because of how fucking unreal and cringy it is. You don’t tell me Gwen is your ex, you don’t tell me that Gwen thinks you’re fucking single, and then you hangout with her almost everyday and then she fucking kisses you in front of me. And then after all that you have the audacity to get mad that I flipped? It makes literally no fucking sense Peter—“
“I know, I’m sorry—“
“See Peter, sorry is a word. I’m honestly supposed to be okay with all that shit just because of a five letter word?” You take a deep breath.
“I got chocolates,” Peter mumbles, you rub your face.
“What about Gwen?” You dare to ask.
“What about her?” Peter tilts his head.
“What happened? Are you still—“
“I haven’t seen her since everything,” Peter nibbles on the inside of his cheek.
You nod, eyes darting to the door. “I’m gonna go—“
“Wait what?—what does this mean?” Peter quickly pressess a hand over yours to stop you from turning the handle.
You swallow thickly, daring to look up at Peter. “I-I don’t know—I just—need some space right now,” his breath was hitting your face, his eyes filled with so many emotions.
“Ye-Yea okay,” Peter nods, his thumb lightly caressing the back of your hand, his lips pressing agaisnt your cheek softly. “I love you, okay?”
You gulp, nodding your head, not trusting your voice. Peter inhaled sharply, taking a step back, letting you open the door and leave.
Give it an hour or so and Harry is skipping into the dorm.
“How’d it go—did she like the gifts? Fall in your arms because of the amount of affection—give her a good fuck to forget—“
“She needs space,” Peter mumbles, eyes on his laptop, typing.
“Space?” Harry collapses on his side. “What does that mean? Did you break up? Or is this like a Ross/Rachel, we’re on a break typa thibg? Can you fuck someone else? I mean as much as I love you two together—I’m telling you this girl Zaina is fucking obsessed with you—“
“I’m not fucking some girl—“
“She isnt some girl—lemme just show you her insta—“ Harry scrambles for his phone.
“I don’t care, how she looks like—“ Peter dismisses.
“Fine, but she does this thing when she’s giving head, that like makes you feel all tingly and so fucking good—“ Harry tries to explain, only receiving an annoyed look from Peter.
“So you’re telling me, that I should give up on my girlfriend just cuz she needs some space and I should go fuck someone that can never compare to her?” Peter snaps, Harry cringes.
“Shit—yea I sound like a dick—do you wanna watch some porn?” Harry suggests.
“The answer is never gonna change Harry,” Peter replies, Harry mumbling incoherently, rolling his eyes.
—————
A few days pass, Peter had left small gifts outside your dorm every morning. He didn’t want to fuck this up more than he already has, he didn’t want you thinking he’s given up or is expecting you to come running back to him. So he left stupid little doodles on a sticky notes on top of little chocolate packs, or a movie box or a book he thought you’d enjoy.
However, as you occupied Peter’s mind, Peter occupied Harry’s mind. He had to get revenge, pay-back you can say for the “wrestling” match earlier this week and the slap fit out in the lawn. So Harry waited five minutes, before leaving his dorm. Most of the guys showered quickly and changed in their dorms so Peter wasn’t any different.
Clad in only a pair of thigh shorts, a shirtless Harry strode into the bathroom, a devious smirk pulling at his lips as he locked eyes with Peter’s phone and key by the counter sink.
“Hey,” Peter exhales, opening the shower curtain, steam flowing out as he reached for his towel. Water droplets trickled from his wet curls and down his toned chest.
“Honestly Pete, you know how these things go,” Harry smiles, leaning against the sink beside Peter’s things.
Peters brows pinched together as he dried himself, “What’re you talking about?”
A shit eating grin took over his face. “Payback bitch!”
Harry was speeding out of the bathroom with Peter’s phone and key in hand.
“Fuck! Harry!” Peter groaned, instantly sprinting after the boy. His hand clutching his towel tightly, bare feet slipping and running.
Harry’s laughs echoed through the halls, along with Peter’s yells, chasing him down the stairs. The commotion brought people out of their dorms, along with their phones recording the whole thing.
Peter chased Harry around the front lawn, half the students watching the scene unfold, people laughing, cheering and whistling. Until Harry’s eye caught some girl stretching beside a tree causing him to trip over his own two feet, his cheek hitting the pavement, causing Peter to topple over him, hitting his shoulder and cheekbone on the pavement, but surprisingly keeping a firm grip on his towel.
“Fuck,” Harry groaned, rolling on the ground as his hand went up to his cheek.
“I fucking hate you,” Peter groaned beside him, reaching over and snatching his phone and key from Harry’s grip. Harry chuckled, patting Peter’s cheek, before slapping him. Which resulted in a slap from Peter and the two tackling each other again, before the university security came, pushing them apart, and that’s when Peter’s eyes locked with yours.
An amused smile played on your lips. Peter was nodding to the security guard. When he left, you made your way over to him. Peter was sitting on the ground as Harry got up, limping to the girl by the tree.
“Hi,” you smiled in amusement , Peter dropping his head in embarrassment, a chuckle slipping past his lips.
“You look good,” he gave you a crooked smile, his eyes squinting up from the sun.
“You’re not bad yourself,” you tease, Peter nodding along sarcastically. “What happened?” You laughed.
“He was getting payback, you know how it goes,” Peter briefly explains.
“I sure do,” you were kneeling in front of him, your brows pinched together. Your fingers delicately tilting his chin up, turning his face around catching the slight blood trickling from his cheek and the skin ripped around his shoulder. “Shit Pete.”
“I’ve had worse,” Peter brushes off, his hand going to your bare knee, thumb brushing the skin.
You looked into his eyes, hand slipping down to his. “Let’s clean you up.”
Peter slipped on some boxers, before sitting on his bed, back agaisnt the wall. You hesitated, but eventually took a seat on his lap, straddling his thighs.
Peter’s cheeks flush, he missed when you’d clean up his wounds or when you’d casually sit on his lap and play with his hair while he told you about something that happened to him. You looked beautiful, warm, and comforting in the black tight jogging shorts and the casual tank top and cardigan just had Peter melting.
His hand rested on your waist, eyes locked on your face as you cleaned his wounds. His eyes clenched as you disinfected the open cut.
“Sorry,” you mumble, breathing lightly.
“Probably diserve it,” Peter replies.
You gulp. “I missed you.” Your voice was soft, eyes flickering to his before looking away quickly.
Peter’s heart swells, I still got a chance. “I missed you too,” he replies.
You hum, nibbling on your bottom lip as you continue cleaning. Peter doesn’t want to push you so he stays quiet. He’s said everything he needed to say so now it’s up to you. Peter’s heart was fucking racing.
“I know....” you stopped, taking a deep breath. “I-I know it was Gwen who kissed you, I know that, and you pushed her off—b-but it still hurt you know, and even if it happens again and I’m expecting it, I’ll still get pissed, b-because you’re mine. No one else is allowed to kiss you, o-or touch you, or even think you’re available.” You avoided eye contact, keeping your focus on his cuts.
Peter couldn’t help the smile tugging on his lips, his chest warm, cheeks flush from your words.
“Harry is always kissing me outta nowhere,” Peter admits, you scoff rolling your eyes with a light laugh.
“Harry’s different. It’s like a Schmitt and Nick kinda way,” you say, making Peter chuckle.
“I’m sorry,” Peter tilts his head to the side, trying to meet your eyes.
“Well I.....guess I forgive you,” your eyes lock, and before you know it, you’re crashing your lips onto his.
Peter grunts, but quickly melts against your lips. Your hand runs through his damp curls, as Peter wraps and arm around your torso, pulling you closer to his naked chest—
You place a hand on his peck, pushing him back against the wall, Peter’s eyes filled with confusion.
“Don’t ever call me an animal ever again or say I’m overreacting or any shit like that,” you bit, eyes filled with hurt.
Peter’s heart stung, filled with guilt. “I’m sorry—I won’t, it just—I fucked that up—“
“We settled that, just....that was...mean,” you trace his collarbones, Peter licking his lips, hand cupping your cheek.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered, hand coming around your neck, pulling you back to him, his lips brushing yours. “I’ll never make you feel like that ever, I’m yours, I promise.” You smile warmly. “I love you.”
You connect your lips, “I love you too,” you mumble, opening your mouth as Peter slips his tongue in. Your careful not to touch his shoulder, as Peter pulls you closer, hand kneading your ass, making you roll your hips down on his growing bulge.
“Ungh fhuck—“ Peter grunts, rubbing your clothed cunt against him. You were moaning softly, Peter’s lips trailing down your neck, pushing your cardigan down your arm and leaving love marks in its place. Peter’s stomach muscles were clenching as you rolled your hips a little faster as Peter gripped your ass helping you move better.
“Peter—“ your mouth falls agape, hand placed on the wall behind Peter. Moans and swears slipping past your lips as you chased your high, Peter’s brows pinched together as he grunted, bucking his hips, pushing you over the edge.
“Shit y/n—“ And just as Peter’s body convulses, the door is swinging open. Your hand flys to your mouth as Harry chuckles by the door as Peter orgasms.
“I—fuck—“ Peter shivers from the after shocks, your hand coming between the two of you stroking his clothed cock, getting more cum and groans from Peter. His face buried in the crook of your neck, composing himself.
Peter hugged you tightly, ignoring a laughing Harry. You bit your lip, cheeks flushed.
“I don’t think it’s coincidence anymore, this is probably the thousandth time I’ve walked in on the two of you, ima just strip now—“
“Do you fucking dare,” Peter huffs, picking his head up, catching your amused face.
“Shit Harry, your face!” You exclaim, jumping off Peter, making him whine.
“Y/n,” Peter pouts, cringing at the feeling of his cum filled boxers.
“You guys are fucking idiots, honestly,” you grab the first aid beside Peter, and sit down beside Harry on his bed. Harry squirms as you disinfect the cut on his cheek.
“The girl by the tree slapped my face cuz supposedly we fucked like a week ago,” Harry huffs, making you roll your eyes and chuckle. Peter clicks his tongue in amusement, before getting up to grab some clean boxers—
“Sure you don’t wanna sit on my lap y/n,” Harry teases, shooting Peter a wink—
“No, that’s it, you’re fucking dead—“
-
- more blurbs with harry
-
@peterspideysstuff @fancyxparker @kickingn-ames @ethereal-beauty-p
Need more angst like this
FUELED APOLOGY ☾
angry sex w mma toji, minutes before a match
tags — heavy nsfw, locker room sex, slight exhibitionism (they can def hear), angry toji, marked upp, dumbification, spit kink, cum dump, fingering, locker room sex, soft toji, apologetic toji, biting, unprotected,
the silent treatment was probably the single most annoying thing you could possibly do to toji. he’ll take anything else, yelling, screaming, hitting, kicking… just acknowledge him. but when you’re dead silent, blank stare; pretending he doesn’t even exist! now that makes him feel like shit…
he couldn’t even grasp the depths of your anger, until you began giving him the cold shoulder.
“you can’t answer a text anymore?” he’s leaning over the couch, eye bags dark and heavy, considering he stayed up all night waiting for you to come back home.
you don’t even look at him. you’re just taking off your shoes and padding your way to the bedroom. the door slamming shut. even when he slides under the covers, completely exhausted, his fingers grazing your arm filled with goosebumps, you slide further away.
“stop acting like a child—“ he honestly should’ve kept his mouth shut, next thing he knows, you were grabbing a pillow and dragging your feet down to the living room. he groans into the covers.
it didn’t matter that he’d come down after a few minutes. his fingers brushing your cheek before gently scooping you into his arms and carrying back into bed. his lips brushing your cheek in your deep sleep, so he can doze off beside you. finally able to sleep.
yet the morning would come and you’d be gone again, until he’s staying up again, waiting for you.
“seriously?” he immediately follows you into the bedroom as you ignore his greeting. “I fucking get it, now will you talk to me? I know you’re pissed, so just fucking give it to me!” his chest was boiling as he watched you pull off your clothes, stepping into the shower.
he sat quietly on the cold tile floor of the bathroom, resting his head back as he watched you shower through the steamed glass. his mind was shutting down, he didn’t like fighting with you. he knew he had a temper, and he could be stubborn, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t do anything for you!
his eyes fluttered open hearing you step out of the shower. rubbing his eyes, gaze set on your movements, his following the water droplets slide down the small of your back. the pretty way your nipples start to perk from the change in temperature.
you had to swallow your own love in order to walk past the tired man. he’s been overworking himself these past couple of weeks in order to get in shape for this upcoming match. you wanted to do your best to support him.
you hated seeing him so stressed all the time. but when you decided to try and help him when he was out training on the beach with his team, sprinting from one end to the other. you wanted him to know that you were there for him. even though you were busy with your uni classes and stressed from your own shit, you didn’t want toji to think he was alone.
so you brought your work to the beach, as he trained. was it really support when you’re laughing and chatting and letting every guy known to man, hit on you?! the emperor of mma wasn’t insecure. he knew you’d never do anything. yet, it still sent his blood sizzling, upset that you came here, all for you to start talking to these men—
“y/n!” the sudden shout of your name had your ears perking up, eyes shifting to the broad shouldered man, heaving by the ocean. you didn’t hesitate to grab the energy drink, happy that you can finally help as you sprinted to your boyfriend.
“how’s training? i was getting worried since you haven’t taken a break in so long—“
“what’re you doing?” the cut in his sentence had your brows pinching, still waiting for him to take the drink from your hands.
“nothing? was just waiting for yo—“
“nothing?” he repeats, his green eyes were as dark as the night forest.
“um…” you itch your cheek awkwardly. “i think you’re tired, I also brought some protein bars and sandwiches. just eat one—“
“go home,” he takes the drink from your hand. your eyes shift to his.
“I’ll leave in a couple minutes, I’m just—“
“I don’t wanna fucking see you right now. you’re distracting me, and it’s not helping!” he couldn’t make excuses. was it his fault? he was tired, and you were distracting, laughing and chatting away with these strangers—
“i didn’t mean to distract you. I came to—“
“I didn’t ask. so thanks, but you can leave now,” toji turns away from you, handing back the drink. “text me when you get ho—“ he glances over his shoulder to see you already grabbing your things and leaving.
he was praying that he didn’t fuck this up. especially when he didn’t get a text from you, of course he had to spam your phone with messages asking if you got home safely. was it a relief when he came home to see you already asleep?
“y/n?” his voice is low as he kneels beside the bed, palm gently holding your cute face. so soft. your eyes slowly open, brows pinched as you look at him. “why didn’t you text me?”
“didn’t wanna be a distraction,” your words laced with tired sarcasm.
toji drops his head, letting out a sigh. “seriously?”
“seriously, what?” you snap, sitting up on your elbow.
“it’s not a big deal. I was stressed,” toji’s hand drops on the mattress, as he rubs his eye.
“whatever,” you didn’t even want to bother anymore. you turn over, not wanting to talk to him, but the grip on your shoulder told you otherwise.
“you’re not done talking,” he looks at your pinched expression, clearly pissed off. “what do you want me to do? apologize?”
“you’re such a dick sometimes,” you push his hand away from you. “I was trying to support you, and you don’t even care.”
“I do care!” he groans, why is this so difficult for him? “I just don’t need every dude with a fucking dick, hitting on you—“
“do you not trust me?” you’re practically glaring, which toji hates.
“stupid ass question,” he huffs, standing up. “you don’t think I trust you?” he’s pulling off his dirty clothes, tossing them to the side.
“no I don’t think so,” you sit up, face hurting from how long you’ve been frowning.
“then you’re causing problems for no fucking reason!” he slams the bathroom door, causing the entire room to shake.
“dick,” you mutter, biting your cheek as you hug your legs.
the cold shower was honestly what he needed. once the freezing water hit his back, it ultimately cooled his heated mind. what the fuck did he just start?
“sweetheart?” toji dries his face as he steps out the bathroom. immediately noticing the empty bed. “fuck me.”
“I’m sorry, baby,” toji is pressing his face in your neck, big body hugging your small frame as the steam from the shower slowly slips out. you don’t answer, just twisting the knife even deeper. you were angry, still. “are you gonna come tomorrow?”
you squirt some moisturizer on your fingers, before rubbing it on your face. his chin rests on your shoulder as he watches you through the mirror. if only his fans saw how much of a baby he gets when you give him the silent treatment. he could almost cry right now.
“y/n, please,” his arm squeezes your middle tighter, his beefy arms completely latched onto you as you don’t even bother to meet his gaze. “i need you there.” he mutters quietly. he was so tired, so when you ignore him again he decides to pull himself away.
your heart clenched. were you being too mean? you crawl onto the bed after getting dressed, he’s already asleep. his chest rising and falling as he kept his arm outstretched, an unconscious habit once you started dating, the invitation for your body to snuggle into him, always there.
your fingers gently caress his cheek, sitting beside his chest as you watch the deep even breaths. he always looks so peaceful. his body exuded warmth, practically seducing you into his arms. you wondered if he’ll be alright. yes, you were giving him the cold shoulder, but that didn’t mean you didn’t care.
especially with his habit of fucking you. was he going to be alright. it wasn’t impossible for him not to fuck before a match, but if he didn’t, it usually made him more aggressive in the cage. a couple warnings from the referee was not uncommon.
your lips softly pressed against his, eyes closing as you felt his own lips push back. your heart skipped a beat…he always has this effect on you.
his arm snaked around your waist, laying you down as he immediately hugged your middle, letting your inviting arms hug his shoulders as you caressed his hair coaxing him to sleep.
the moment was so intimate. you almost forgot you were still angry with him. however, toji most certainly did not forget. especially as the stadium erupted in cheers and applause as the fans awaited their fighters.
you sat in the front row. of course you came, you knew how much he’s been training. this silent treatment shit was not going to stop you from still supporting him….but….you felt your heart ache for a moment….it still felt like shit. felt like shit when he wouldn’t acknowledge what you do for him—
“y/n,” tojis manager, shiu’s hand suddenly brought you back.
“what—“
“can you come with me?” shiu was already dragging you up, holding your shoulder as he escorted you.
“what’s wrong?”
“he won’t stop asking for you,” shiu was stressed, clearly. it was less than half an hour before the match, what could possible be wrong with toji?
“did something happen??” you’re suddenly panicking, moving quickly down the hallway. what’s wrong? is he injured? does he feel sick?
“I don’t know, he’s not answering anyone,” you’re bursting into the locker room, eyes immediately falling onto the fighter sitting on the bench, hunched over, face in his hands.
“toji?” you’re immediately leaning down, your hands carefully on top of his as you try to speak. “what’s wrong—“
“everyone out,” toji snaps, his team all looking at one another panicked.
“toji we need to get you ready—“
“everyone fucking out or I’m not doing this match!” he shouts, startling you, but you look over at shiu nodding your head. trying to give them some kind of reassurance.
“we’re waiting outside,” shiu rubs his face, as he closes the door behind the last person. your attention now shifting back to your boyfriend.
“is everything oka—“ his lips suddenly crash into you. fingers firmly holding your jaw as his tongue slips into your mouth. you’re completely caught off guard, hands holding his wrists, whining as he pushes you against the lockers, arm wrapping around your waist pressing you firmly into his chest—
“toji!” you gasp, breath heavy as you meet his gaze. “what’s going on—“
“I do need you,” he groans, aggressively shoving his shorts down to allow his very erect cock to spring out, pre cum leaking out of the tip as he kisses your lips. “don’t ignore me again, i fucking hate it!” he bites your bottom lip, causing your voice to crack, whining. “answer me—“
“toji, they’re outside—“ but he’s already pulling your panties off, lifting your skirt as he drags his fingers through your folds.
“I trained this pussy so well,” he groans, kissing your lips. “ya get so wet just from kissin’ me,” he smiles, knees kicking your legs further apart as you whine, trying to hold his shoulders for balance.
“you never apologized,” you turn your cheek away, disconnecting his lips from yours as you try and catch your breath. “I came here to support you, but that doesn’t mean I forgive you,” your jaw clenched, trying to hold your composure, only to yelp as you felt his teeth sink into your neck.
“you’re pissing me off,” his fingers pushed into your pussy, your walls sucking him as you let out a strangled moan, the squelching wasn’t helping you either. “still have something to say?” he snaps, sucking bruises along your neck and shoulder as he pumps his thick fingers in your pussy, proud of himself as he hears the squelching start to trickle down his fingers.
“toji—“ you’re biting your hand, muffling your moans as your face heats up. so embarrassed that this is happening and you couldn’t even push him away.
“did I cover your mouth?” his words echo as he pins your wrist over your head. “you like talking, so lemme hear you.”
“no—ah ah…they’ll hear me—“ your desperately trying to keep some dignity, but it all leaves the moment you feel your body being lifting in the air.
“you’re such a baby,” he laughs, eyes dark and lips curling, because this was not your toji, no. pre-match toji was a whole different person. he could not afford a single warning or a threat of disqualification in this match.
“I’m not, you’re just a dick—“
“what else?” he can’t help the heat rushing south as he hears your fueled words. suddenly pumping blood into his veins, and his dick.
“you’re mean, and you take me for granted. you don’t apologize unless I ignore you—“ toji groans, as he pumps his hefty cock to your words, still able to hold your up, as he aligns his pulsing cock with your dripping wet folds.
“how mad are you baby?” he’s practically panting.
“fuck you,” and that’s all he wants because he’s dropping you down, shoving his entire dick inside until your eyes burst with tears feeling his thick trimmed hair tickling your clit, completely bottoming out.
“fucking took out my eardrums, puppy,” he’s laughing in your face as he pulls his hips back and shoves his cock inside you again. you were completely dazed, that moment he sank his full length deep in your tummy, your brain automatically turned to mush. he usually took his time when it’s the night before a match, but there was no time now. so he couldn’t hold himself back as he let you take it full force.
you were an absolute mess, crying and letting out broken moans as he pumped his hot cock in your tight hole.
“can’t talk anymore? thought you had so much to say, pup?” he’s sucking your lips, smiling at how swollen and used they’ve gotten as he picks up the pace. the lewd echoes bounced off the walls, your body burning from embarrassment, but it didn’t matter—
“to-toji….do ah hahh you….uh uh..need me?” your eyes were filled with tears as you held his hair, fingers rubbing against his scalp, the other digging into his shoulders as you drooled. such a mess in such a small time.
“of course I—ungh do,” his teeth pull at your bottom lip. kissing you over and over as he draws near his climax. your nails can’t help but dig into his shoulders, pulling at the skin as you feel bite at your neck. “you’re my biggest fucking fan, and I’ll always need you,” his jaw is clenching as he feels your pussy spasming around him. “you cummin’ pup?”
“mhm? ahh— mm oji!” he grips your ass, fucking you faster as he feels his balls tighten. you’re drooling into his lips as he opens his mouth, sticking his tongue out, groaning as he feels your spit rub inside his mouth. such a filthy girl. you were creaming so fast, squeezing the hell out of his cock as your eyes grew.
“too much…ahhh—wait!” the lockers were shaking as he drove his cock, balls slapping your wet pussy as your legs shook.
“you’re everything, y/n,” your cheeks flare, you loved when he called you nicknames. but when he moans out your name, you can’t help the butterflies that break out. “I love you, so much,” his head tilts back as he shoves his hips deeper in, releasing warm globs of white cum into your warm pussy.
“don’t….ignore…me,” he sighs, thrusting more as you bite your lip, tears sliding down your cheeks as you feel the last bit of his heavy load finally come out as he pulls out. he still holds you up, pumping his cock to release the excess amount of cum on your nasty pussy.
“goes both ways,” you cup his cheeks, bringing him to your lips, smiling as he caresses your ass, giving it a firm slap.
you stumble on your feet, going over to the sink to rinse yourself down there. grabbing a towel—
“keep it in,” his lips nibble at your neck as he runs a hand down between your legs cupping your pussy. your cheeks sting, feeling his big fingers scoop at his cum and shoving it back in, your hand falling to his thick forearm as he pats your cute tummy with his other hand. “you’re my good luck charm, sweetheart,” he licks the bruise on your neck, dropping to his knees to kiss your pussy.
you almost whine, watching him smile up at you, desperate to hold in your composure, especially when he gives you a wink covering your cute little pussy with your panties, and giving it a cute kiss again.
your face was red as he called the team back in. no one said a word about what they obviously heard, especially with the way they avoided looking at you, specifically since toji was staring daggers at them for even asking you if you needed some water….I mean considering what they heard…
once they finished wrapping his gloves, shiu was escorting you back to your seat—
“y/n,” the soft call, immediately had your head turning. eyes so bright as he smiled…a gentle tug, that had your heart skipping a beat. “I am sorry.”
you can only nod, trying to keep your smile from taking over. “i know,” and so does he. all you wanted to know is that he felt remorseful, something that will acknowledge what he did and that he’ll do better, because that’s all you can ask for.
you definitely were a good luck charm. the moment the bell rang, announcing his win, the audience was going batshit crazy. people screaming, and cheering as flashes from photographers blinded the stadium.
everyone already knew his routine. it was even more gossip and cheers when they noticed the marks on his back—
pushing past the cameras and the annoying speakers, until he was jumping down from the cage and letting you leap into his arms, lips latching onto his as he held you up. the matching bruises was definitely something for twitter to run with.
“you liked it?” he muttered against your lips, only for your ears.
“ya! you always look so cool!” you gush, your cute smile sending his heart swelling, your words always hitting him. “I love seeing you fight! but you can be so mean.”
“how so?” he raises a brow.
“some rounds they can’t even catch a break,” you empathize.
“that’s the point, baby,” his hand unconsciously rubs your back, settling you down as you talk to him. your fingers unconsciously caressing the nape of his neck, careful of his own bruises.
“nuh-uh, the point is to have fun….and win—but like you know what I mean,” you roll your eyes, only to look back at toji hearing him laugh. your own lips curling into a smile.
“I guess so,” he dips his head, lips pressing to your warm cheek. “i just need you here to remind me.”
his arms wrap around you, lips brushing yours. “just stay with me…” his kiss was soft. “I’ll be better…just for you.”
he will. unless he wants to loose you. he can change for a princess.
just smt ab mma toji😫 so toxic but so sweet🥹
This is the magic lucky word count. Reblog for creativity juice. It might even work, who knows.
EXACTLY. this is why i always get confused with people who shit talk Oda for the way he writes/draws one piece. You cannot just nitpick at the things like racism, sexism, BODY SHAMING(looking at all of you who talk shit abt his artstyle.), homophobia, and so on. When you have a story evolving around these CONTROVERSIAL topics? You CANNOT just have a little good here and bad there. You have to put it all. All the good, bad, and ugly. 😐 Thats why i feel like people with a tiny mental capacity should not have opinions about things like this abt op…They always have the most negative things to say and be so fucking wrong.
I've broken this down in opla but I wanna talk about it in animanga context too: Zoro and Sanji's ongoing conflict is largely about sexism!! Which is a fascinating thing to do with male shounen protagonist power players, for one, but also just adds so much to the overall team dynamic and treatment of women in the writing.
Zoro and Sanji are both carrying on the legacies of oppressed women they lost in their childhoods, but in wildly different ways.
Kuina's oppression had to do with being seen as a lesser warrior for being female even though she was incredibly capable. Fighting with her was respecting her. To refuse to fight her would have made Zoro complicit in belittling her dream and status. So he treats women just like everyone else, only discriminating based on actual strength and skill, not gender. His concept of the systemic oppression against women is that they're being excluded from things they're capable of participating in.
Sora's oppression, on the other hand, had to do with her body being used as a tool of war against her will, to birth soldiers for Judge's army. It wasn't a case of being treated differently despite being just as capable, it was a case of being exploited directly using her biological differences and social position as a woman. To use more violence against her would be disrespectful and cruel. So Sanji focuses on protecting women from violence and refuses to be an agent of it, based on gender rather than strength and skill. His concept of the systemic oppression against women is that they're being taken advantage of for things inherent to them that they didn't choose and can't change.
Essentially Zoro only sees sexism as an issue of discrimination and Sanji only sees sexism as an issue of exploitation. And they're both too dumb and traumatized to articulate it, so they just hit each other.
Wait bc does this happen? They’d eatttt
@smarties-art might’ve beat me to the punch, but I couldn’t not draw Lawsopp as well
Me
me: i wanna write
someone: then… write?
me:
Yes just yes
the tra-guy effect
wishful thinking
-warnings// angst, mentions of smut but no real descriptions
lil summery// Sam has a little crush on deans girlfriend a just little sad
Dean x reader... with a little Sam x reader (just a lil bit)
word count// 3450
(Gif from pinterest)
You groaned as the light came through the window blinds, rolling over to hide in your boyfriends warm chest, Dean chuckled running his hand up and down your bare back "not ready to wake up gorgeous?" He asked kissing the top of your head "no. My plans revolve around staying in bed with my pretty sexy, and very nude boyfriend" you mumbled against his chest, dragging your hand down his chest and down his stomach
You jumped back when you heard a loud knock on the door "are you two almost ready? There was another attack last night" Sam called through the door, "Just taking a shower then we'll be out Sammy" Dean yelled back, you looked up at him confused "baby we showered last night" Dean chuckled, rolling on top of you, he smirked down at you, his amulet hanging down his neck "yeah but I just bought us some more time" Dean flirted as he pressed kisses down your neck, already making your eyes roll.
Sam leaned against the impala, growing more and more impatient as the time moved on, with a final sigh of annoyance he went back to Dean and your shared motel room, "Dean I've been waiting almost an hour dude serio-" Sam started to yell but was quickly cut off by the door opening revealing you dressed only in deans long red flannel, your cheeks red and your hair a mess "I'm sorry Sammy, we'll be right out in two minutes, I swear" you told him quickly shutting the door in the stunned Winchesters face
Sam was in awe of you, ever since you and Dean came to get him from Stanford four years ago he knew there was something about you that just warmed his heart, how kind you were to him and when Jess passed, you let him cry in your arms many nights after, how beautiful you were, how smart you were, you were like a walking encyclopaedia. He knew how wrong it was, having a crush on Deans girlfriend. he just couldn't help himself
Every day was an internal battle for Sam, he wanted you, he wanted you more than he's ever wanted anything, but he sees how much his brother loves you, and that's what kills him even more, he would never want to hurt his brother. He just couldn't help himself, especially when he heard your moans through every crappy motel walls, hell he's even walked in on you both going at it more times than he'd ever like to admit, you would think after the eitgth time Dean would learn to lock his damn door.
It definitely didn't help Sam keep himself composed when he was popping boners left and right with the images of you after being fucked, even if wasn't by him flash through his mind constantly.
"Alright, give us the run down Sammy" dean said as he drove away from the red room motel Sam stayed quiet as he tried to avoid looking at you sitting in the back seat "Sammy!" Dean called loudly snapping his fingers in his face startling the seasoned hunter "w-what?" He stuttered out confused "gives us the run down... are you feeling good, not like you to be so out of it man" dean turned to look at him quickly worry evident in his voice
"Yeah fine just tired. didn't sleep great" Sam mumbled out tucking his growing hair behind his ears "you sure sweetie? you look a little pale, maybe your coming down with something. c'mere let me check your temperature" you said leaning into the front to feel his forehead "w-what no no I'm fine not sick I'm just tired so just drop it and leave me the hell alone!" Sam said flinching away defensively, if you touched him right now he was definitely gonna go crazy
Dean turned to give Sam a hard look "watch it Sam, she was only trying to help you, no need to bite her damn head off!" Sam snorted "whatever" he pushed himself as close to the passenger side ignoring his brother for the rest of the ride his eyes stared hard out at the road as he tried to focus on the hunt... and not how good your breasts look in that shirt .
Dean looked at Sam then gave you a concerned look matching your own in the rear view mirror.
When you got to the Swanson house you both decided to let Sam take the lead in questioning considering he didn't give you any details on the death, what he suspected, could be demon, ghost... literally anything at this point.
"Any idea what's up with Sam?" You asked Dean watching as Sam spoke to the victims heartbroken husband, Dean sighed his eyes narrowed at his little brother trying to figure out what's going on in his head "not a clue but I'll talk to him about it" dean grumbled out squinting his eyes at his younger brother.
It was a quiet drive back to the motel , Sam was laser focused on watching the blurs of houses and cars, you couldn't help yourself but looking at him worried, you were sure he could feel your eyes burning a hole into the back of his head. Even if he did feel it he never let on, never acknowledged you or dean were in the car too.
Once Dean parked baby Sam was rushing out toward his motel room. Dean slammed the car door annoyed before turning to look at you his hard eyes softening "I'm gonna talk to Sammy see if I can get him to talk about wheatever the hells bothering him" dean told you before planting a soft kiss on your lips "okay baby, I'm gonna take a walk and go grab us some snacks and beer, hopefully Sammy opens up to you" you wrapped your arms around deans neck, his own on your hips as he had you pinned tight against the impala
Dean shook his head pulling baby's keys out of his pocket "your not walking anywhere sweetheart, I trust you'll take care of my baby, and my baby will take care of my sweetheart" dean joked making you giggle, your cheeks heating up as you licked your lips "you Dean Winchester are a man of many surprises... and I quite like that about you" dean caught your lips once again in a soft kiss his tongue slipping into wrestle with your own before giving your ass a hard smack. You gasped and pulled away your body feeling hot at his actions
You put your hands on deans chest lightly pushing him away from you "alright I better go, good luck talking to Sam" dean shook his head his green eyes turned to look at Sam's closed motel room door sighing "yeah I'm gonna need it".
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Your nerves were all over the place as you walked around the small corner store. You hated when Sam and Dean would fight, on one hand, Dean is your boyfriend you can't help but take his side most of the time, but Sam was your best friend. It just put you in such a shitty position until the boys eventually swept it under the rug. You grabbed a bunch of snacks because you knew Dean was an angry eater and he usually stuffed his face with liquorice and chocolate after any arguments, or if you were having make up sex and dean was still a little mad he'd eat something else...
You opened the door to your motel room so see Dean pacing the floor his hands running through his hair, clearly he was frustrated and seemed pretty anxious "how'd it go sweetie?" You asked him setting the bag of goods and beer on the table "I- uh- fi-fine yeah I guess" dean stuttered out as his pacing continued "dean what's wrong? Is it bad- oh my god please sit down your freaking me out!" You snapped grabbing deans arms stopping him from moving any further "it's nothing I just... look you know how much I care about you. Id do anything for you no matter what it was, I just when you talk to Sam please remember that" dean told you his hands coming to rest on the sides of your face his worried eyes staring into your own
"Wha- talk to Sam? Dean what's going on why do I need to talk to Sam?" You were freaking out why the hell was Dean Winchester, the man who hides what he feels on the daily pouring his heart out to you now of all times. Dean leaned in catching your lips in a slow sensual kiss, pulling away to rest his forehead against your own "I promise everything will make sense if you talk to Sam" Dean whispered "okay let's go" dean shook his head immediately "I don't think I should be around Sammy right now I'll wait for you here" okay now you were officially freaking the fuck out
You nodded slowly and headed out to towards Sam's motel room next door. You stared at the red door taking a couple of deep worried breaths before knocking. It took three seconds after the last knock until the younger Winchester was opening the door his cheek looking slightly swollen "hey... come on in" Sam said moving to the side to allow you in "hey... so what's going on? Dean seemed pretty upset" you told him, Sam sighed and ran his hands down his face his eyes closed tight "it's stupid. It's so stupid I just don't know what to do anymore I've been... fuck this is hard-" "Sam! Spit it out please!" You yelled cutting off his rambling
"....Y/N, I think I'm in love with you" once the words left Sam's lips your whole body froze. You felt like the air was sucked right out of you. "You what?" You asked "I think I'm in love with you... it started a couple of years ag-" "Years! what the fuck do you mean years Sam? How many?" You cut him off "i- I lost Jess and then you... you were there for me and it just kinda escalated from there. Look I don't want to feel like this. I don't want to be in love with my brothers girlfriend, I've felt like the worst person in the damn world every day because of this... I just I can't help it" Sam confessed
"Sam Jess passed four years ago. Are you telling me you've had feelings for me since then?" You asked him calmly and he nodded quickly "honey I don't think your in love with me. I think you went through an extremely traumatic experience with Jess and me being there for you every day. I think your confusing the feelings you had for jess to me. Sam, I love you because your my best friend... and I'm with dean and I haven't even told him yet but I love him Sammy..." you told him and Sam took a deep breath "I uh i guess I never thought about it like that. I think your right I'm confusing my feelings I had for Jess to you" Sam agreed making you relax
"I'm sorry I sprung all this on you and Dean today. When you put it like that it makes sense... I mean Jess was the love of my life… I even had a ring. Before you and Dean came to Stanford I had it all planned out, then it was taken away from me in the blink of an eye... and dean still has you-" Sam paused taking a shaky breath "I guess I'm just jealous of you guys, of what you have with each other. I've never seen Dean love someone so much and that's why me feeling like this bothered me so much because I want my brother to be happy and I want my best friend to be happy too" Sam ended his speech and you had tears falling down your cheeks feeling your heart break at his words
"Sammy I'm so sorry about what happened with Jess. You deserved to have the happy life you always wanted with her" Sam nodded his eyes filling with tears he sucked in a harsh breath of air "yeah.... I miss her every day. I just... I want what I had with her back- I want Jess back, I see you and Dean and I want that. Jesus I fucking had that. Life deals me the crappy hand of yellow eyes and Jess has to pay for it?" Your cheeks were wet with tears, you couldn't help but bawl at Sam's words. Life had been so cruel to the Winchesters
"I know honey... I know. It's not fair, I know you feel like Jess was the one for you but sam, I only met her once and I seen how much she loved you. She would want you to get out there and find the girl your meant to spend your life with, it's not me, but she's out there... she's just waiting for you to find her" you smiled taking his big hand in yours and giving it a comforting squeeze. Sam nodded slowly
"I really i appreciate that Y/N, I'm glad this crap got brought out. Talking to you has really made me feel a lot better about this so thanks, I uh do you mind giving me some time just to think. I kinda want to be by myself now" Sam told you and you nodded heading towards the door, Turing to take one last look at the sad giant "we're right next door if you need anything at all, okay Sammy?" His lips curled in a soft smile and he gave you a quick nod.
Once the door was a shut you leaned against it your hand going to your chest as you took a deep breath, hunting gouls was easier than that damn conversation. Your heart was beating like crazy thinking back on every word, Sam thought he was in love you, I mean of course he wasn't. He was in love with the idea of you... of love that's what he wanted.
You squeezed your eyes shut to calm down before going back to your and Deans room. You opened the door to find Dean sat at the edge of the double bed, his head facing the ground as his hands ran through his hair “Dean?” You called to him. His head snapped towards you his feet moving faster than the rest of his body as he stunned his way toward you “Y/N…. H-how’d it go? Did you-” “talk to Sam… yeah we had a long talk. I think everything’s gonna be just fine now” you told him
Deans shoulders visibly relaxed, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you into a hug “thank god… thought I was gonna have to kick his ass” dean joked but you thought back to Sam’s swollen cheek. You pulled back from the hug and gave dean a hard look “Dean Winchester… did you punch your brother because of me?”
Dean shook his head quickly “no of course not… I punched him because he told me he wanted to be with my girlfriend, maybe had he phrased it better to me I wouldn’t have lost my temper but if someone tells me they want to be with my girlfriend and they’re in love with her… I’m gonna loose my shit” you tried to hide the small smirk from your face by leaning in to give dean a hard kiss on his soft lips “that’s really sweet baby. Please don’t fight with Sam because of me, seriously we had a really good conversation tonight”
Dean noodles slowly “can you tell me what you talked about?” You smiled and sat down on the bed and pulling Dean with you so you were both laying down on the hard mattress “well he told me he was in love with me-” deans arm around your waist grew tense as he pulled you closer so your head was resting against his chest “but we talked about things and we got to talking about Jess and-” you paused taking a deep breath and looking up at dean to find him already looking at you
“Sam is still hurting over Jess. He was confusing his love for Jess to love for me, thats all, he’s not In love me. He’s in love with the idea of love because he had that, then he lost it in the blink of an eye and then he sees us together. He just needs some time and he needs us to help him get back out there find a distraction, hey maybe even find the love of his life like m-” you stopped yourself quickly, Dean opened his mouth to say something but you quickly jumped back in
“We should take him out tomorrow, there’s a bar down the block. I saw it when we were driving earlier, it looks like it could be fun, what do ya say?” Deans eyes crinkled as he smiled lovingly at you. He loved how much you looked out for Sammy, it’s part of what made him fall in love with you. “I’m down, any time I get to spend with you I am down for it” dean told you taking your hand in his placing a soft kiss to it “how about we crack open those beers over there eat some junk food and watch a little Dr sexy?” Dean suggested. You smiled and nodded your head “i love that idea” you leaned up to give him a quick kiss before he grabbed the goods.
You were hours into the doctor sexy marathon you and dean had unintentionally started. Deans arm hung loosely around your waist while you cuddled comfortably into his warm side, your leg wrapped loosely around deans hips. You looked up to see deans green eyes lolling to sleep slowly, still somewhat awake “dean?” You whispered, his eyes opened quickly and he let out a low “yeah?” And turned his gaze to you “why were you so nervous earlier? Before I went to Sam’s room?” He sighed his body tensing slightly under you “I just… I hated the idea of you talking to Sam about his little crush on you because well, your my girl… and I love you” dean rushed out the end and your head snapped up
“You what?” You asked your chest suddenly feeling tighter like your heart was about to explode “i love you sweetheart” dean told you more clearly this time. A smile immediately overcame your face as you rushed down to press a hard kiss on deans lips. Dean responded right away, his hands wrapping around your hips to pull you on top of him… well more than you already were
You pulled back slightly from the kiss pressing your forehead against his “I love you too Dean Winchester, so fucking much baby” you giggled your lips brushing against his in each movement. Dean pulled you back into another deep kiss his big rough hands squeezed your ass before moving up your waist to pull your shirt off leaving you in your black lacy bra. Your squealed into deans mouth when he ripped your bra in half, pulling the ruined fabric off off your arms baring your breasts to him. Deans lips detached from your swollen ones, he attacked you chest immediately placing kissing app over your chest, sucking love marks all over you, especially on your sweet spot to mark his territory.
Sam who was in the next room slammed a pillow over his head to drown out your screams of pleasure, Sam lied to you earlier, he meant it when he said he was in love with you. But when he saw your panic and how you talked about your one for his brother he panicked and wanted to take each word back, that’s why when you mentioned it being confusion over his love for Jess he jumped at it. He would never do anything to hurt you or dean he loved you both way to much to ever even think about doing that to either of you, that’s why he was just going to have to swallow his feelings and curse chuck for not having you both meet first. He wished every damn night that he met you before dean, constantly living in guilt Sam knew he had to take his feelings for you and bury them deep inside of him, a life with you was just wishful thinking for the younger Winchester.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
ALL MY OWN WORK I DO NOT GIVE CONSENT TO COPY OR PUBLISH ON OTHER SITES , I.E WATTPAD, ETC, WITHOUT MESSAGING TO ASK FIRST
next to be written is Sam Winchester, hero part 2, this was requested and I'm hoping to get it published soon, until then please enjoy :))
"tears"
fluff for the sukuna fans bc i've been in a soft sukuna mood
ryomen sukuna x reader
Synopsis: sukuna isn't a stranger to arguments with you, but when he catches you crying after a particularly harsh one, he finds himself scrambling to fix it... in his own way
to sum it up: sukuna is an asshole but he loves you, so he tries his best
WC: 3,296
Warning(s): a lil angst
You knew exactly what you were getting into when you first started a relationship with the infamous king of curses, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less when his tendency to be an asshole hurt your feelings.
You know Sukuna isn’t a sentimental person who cares much for things like verbal reassurance, or consideration for the way the things he says can impact you, or anyone for that matter, but damn! Sometimes, he’s just too much of a jerk for you to handle, and Sukuna himself has no idea why your fragile human emotions sway you to be so affected by him. He doesn’t even think he’s said anything wrong the times in which you grow angry with him.
Now, Sukuna can handle your anger. Anger is good. Anger means that there is something he can react to, something he can tame or involve into your intimacies when he takes your mind off of silly arguments or subdues your attitude over what he deems to be small inconveniences. Anger is the only human emotion that he has felt himself in his many years of existence, so he knows what to expect. He understands it. He’s not, in the slightest, intimidated by it.
But what Sukuna finds he can not handle is the sound of your sniffles that resound from behind your door after you’ve just slammed it into his face. Sukuna angles his brows, pressing his ear to the door in confusion. Are you… cold? Coming down with a fever? What the hell are you sniffing your nose so much for?
Then he hears the meek gasps that intercept, the vocalization of pain that creeps into your weakened inhalations that accompany your damned sniffling. That’s when he realizes that you’re crying, and his pupils shrink slightly knowing that he has gone a little too far this time.
Hell, how is he supposed to handle you crying? He can’t fuck your sadness away like he can with your irritation. He can’t mirror your sadness, since he has no clue what the hell it’s supposed to feel like. He can’t empathize with it either, for he has no idea what he could have done to bring tears to your eyes and empathy, well, it’s not in his vocabulary to begin with. It’s pathetic, he thinks, the way you have allowed him to bother you this much…
Yet it kills him to know that he’s the reason behind your tears.
He stands there for some time, unsure of what to do. Should he get Uraume to handle this? No, that may make things worse. You may want to be alone.
He turns to leave, but something stops him. He feels an ache in his chest, pressing his hand to his bicep. What the hell? What is this feeling?
He can still hear you crying, and somehow, it sounds like it’s getting worse, louder, or perhaps that is all in his head. He can no longer tell, but that sound you’re making is the only thing occupying his mind, and it’s ruining him. It’s making his chest tighten, his brow furrow, his lips press together tightly. He should leave, but he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to abandon you like this.
Never once in his life has Sukuna felt remorse. Not even for all the times he has made you angry in the past when you two have had arguments. He is so quick to blame your reactions to things on your feeble human emotions. He is so quick to evade responsibility, or more so, refrain from guilting himself over the things he is responsible for. He is so quick to dismiss you, but it’s always fine because he has never witnessed you grow sad over his behavior, not until now.
Sukuna turns back to your door slowly. His hand flies to grab the handle to throw the door open, but he hesitates. He’s unsure of what’s happening to him, for he’s never hesitated before in his life. This, you crying, him second guessing himself, it’s all so new and he hates it. He needs to fix this immediately.
What do you humans like when you are upset? There’s a word that’s slipping his mind, one he always hears you pester him for but turns down repeatedly. He had found the concept so irrelevant that he hadn’t even bothered to recall what it’s called.
He crosses his arms and stares ahead harshly in thought, then it comes to him. An apology! Yes, that’s what it is. But of course, you can’t expect him to verbalize such a thing. You must want something as a gift. A physical representation of his desire not to see you cry. He rushes off to locate Uraume for preparations.
About an hour later, you’re curled up on your bed and facing the wall with a blank stare. Your tears stopped a while ago, and since you hadn’t heard from Sukuna, you assumed he just didn’t care about your feelings. Like always.
“Oi,” a gruff voice through the door startles you. You jump and turn over, curling your brows in confusion at the sound of Sukuna’s voice. For a moment, you don’t believe he is speaking to you, so you wait some time to see if he will speak again. “I know you can hear me in there,” his voice sounds again, and you groan.
“Go away,” you tell him, flipping back over.
Sukuna, on the other side of the wall, clicks his tongue in agitation. “Quit your pouting and come open this door.”
“No. Until you learn how to treat me better, I don’t want to see you.”
Treat you better? Sukuna doesn’t understand this nonsense. You live in his large estate, you’re pampered by servants, showered with gifts and homemade meals, you sleep by his side every night, and he allows you to disrespect him far more often than he should. Not to mention, he has his arms full of presents at this very moment that are preventing him from opening the door himself. How can he possibly treat you any better than he’s already treating you?
He growls lowly and closes his eyes in irritation. “If you open the door, your mood will improve.”
“I don’t want anything other than what I just said.”
Sukuna’s eye twitches. Why are you so damn difficult? “What is your-”
“Go. Away.”
Oh. Alright, then.
You sit up abruptly when Sukuna’s foot breaks in the door with a loud crash. You stare with wide eyes, the door, now off its hinge, creaking open weakly to reveal the king of curses with his arms full of several bouquets of flowers.
“What the fuck, Sukuna?!” you cry. He only stares frustratedly as he walks into the space univinted.
“This was going to go on for too long if I hadn’t done something,” he says, approaching the side of your bed.
“You can’t just- fuck! What is wrong with you?”
Okay… this is already going poorly.
This is not the reaction he had desired from you, and perhaps he should have revisited the idea of kicking in the door, but he had been growing impatient. Despite his big talk, he doesn’t like when you speak to him in such a cold way. He doesn’t like being separated from you. He doesn’t like not being able to see your face, and after all the work he has just done to collect these plants for you, he can not tolerate being turned away.
“Must you be so dramatic?” he tsks. “Do you not see what I have brought to you? Don’t you humans like these things?”
You stare at him incredulously, mouth agape. Sukuna can see the tear stains clear on your face, and his heart clenches again. God, why is that sight so abominable?
He holds his arms out, presenting the flowers to you as if you could have possibly missed them. “They are yours. Take them and be done with this.”
“Be done with what, Sukuna?” you shake your head, face scrunched.
“With your tantrum- your tears, and the sniffles. Be done with them now. Here.”
You scoff. “Do you even know why you're giving these to me?”
Sukuna raises a brow. “To cease your tantrum. As I just said.”
“I can’t with you sometimes, Sukuna. Honestly.”
“This is really the thanks that I get for bringing you these damn flowers? I thought you were supposed to like things like this. Why would you make me waste my time?”
“If you think it’s a fucking waste of time to bring me flowers, then there’s your problem right there,” you raise your voice, pointing at him accusingly. Sukuna’s face hardens. He thinks you’re getting angry again, but he can still see the sadness behind your eyes. You look almost… defeated. “And if you knew me at all, you’d know that I never cared about any of that stuff. I never cared about the flashiness or the gifts or whatever the fuck.”
Sukuna lowers his hands, letting the bouquets drop carelessly to the floor. “Now you are accusing me of not knowing you?” he seethes. “I’m not sure when you decided that it was acceptable for you to speak to me this way, but I will not tolerate it. I do nothing but dote on you, you ungrateful brat.”
“Yeah, sure, you dote on me, and then you turn around and berate me and call everything I feel stupid because you don’t care to even try to understand why some of the things you say are not okay!”
Sukuna walks closer to invade your personal space, leaning in to glare angrily at you as you do the same. This is what he knows. This is what he chooses to respond to. Not the curl in your brow, not the tremble of your lips, not the unsteadiness of your voice, but your anger. “Why should I care if all you do is whine,” he grumbles.
You clamp your mouth shut as a lump forms in your throat. Sukuna watches you unravel before him, and while he tries to keep an unmoved expression, he is internally panicking when he sees your eyes gloss over again and your nose flare.
Shit. He’s supposed to be making you feel better. How has he gone and made things worse again? Why is he incapable of understanding how to be what you want him to be?
You take in a trembling inhale as your hands clench and unclench at your sides. You don’t want him to see you cry. You don’t want him to call you weak, but you can’t help the tear that breaks past your lashes and dashes down your cheek, a physical display of your heartache.
Sukuna’s crimson eyes fly to the tear, and his brows smooth out against his intent.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
You’re crying again, and it’s his fault. It’s always been his fault. What is this now that he’s feeling? Regret? Shame? Is that what is clawing at his chest and stripping him of his resolve? Making him wish to replay this entire interaction so that you do not appear before him with tears in your eyes once more? Is this what it is to fall?
You rub angrily at your eyes and huff, turning away from him and plopping back down on your bed, back facing him. You shut yourself away, close yourself off, and deprive Sukuna of your pretty face for the second time today. “Just leave me alone. You’ve made it perfectly clear that you don’t give a fuck about me or anything, for that matter.”
Sukuna’s eyes widen slightly with the deepening of his frown. That ache he has felt in his chest spreads throughout his body, serving as tension in his back, head, and shoulders. You think he doesn’t care for you? What nonsense. You’re the only being on this planet who has made a millennia of existence worth living, and you think he doesn’t care?
Sukuna can not even pin the blame onto you this time around. He can not accuse you of overreacting, nor can he evade such a thing that is so clearly his doing. He has made you feel uncared for, and while his temper may get out of hand, and his inability to fully comprehend the plagues of the human mind gets in the way, and he never tells you that he loves you, making you feel unloved is the last thing he ever meant to do.
“Hey,” he mumbles, but you do not move. You cling to yourself for comfort because you do not believe he can provide any for you. “Brat-” he starts, but rethinks. He reaches his hand out to you. “(Y/n). Enough of this.”
“I don’t want to see you right now, Sukuna. Can’t you respect at least that for once?” you croak.
His hand freezes and he lets it fall. Respect. Understanding. That is what you want from him, and he has not been giving it to you. He has not been giving you anything that you request of him emotionally, for that matter. He has been neglecting your mental needs whilst overpowering you with the physical, and it’s drawn you away from him.
He could force you to get up. He could drag you by your hair to his bedroom. He could make you look him in the eye, make you stay with him, make you stay silent about this from this point on and forever more. Sukuna has the power and the authority to do so…
But the idea is not appealing. Not in the slightest.
Sukuna wants you happy. He wants you to want to be with him willingly, and if he ignores your consent now of all times, it would be like throwing away the life he has built with you. Throwing away your desires, and Sukuna does not long for a world in which you are any more uncomfortable than you already are.
He takes a step back, looking over the flowers that he has dropped, and accepts the will of the mortal he fell in love with.
“I will be in my chambers if or whenever you wish to see me,” he says lowly, giving in. He moves to leave but stops himself once more. He never had stopped himself this much before. “...I apologize for making you cry. I will send someone to fix your door immediately.”
Sukuna is well on his way when he hears you shuffling behind him. He turns, admittedly hopeful for your reaction, and finds you peeking in confusion over your shoulder. “...What did you just say?” you whisper.
The king of curses stalls, looking directly into your eyes from across the room. He feels suddenly… weak. Vulnerable. For the first time, he has relented his power for you to take hold of, and it feels strange to say the very least. “Do you wish for me to repeat myself?”
You sit up slowly, turning around. You knuckle at your red nose, watching him suspiciously. “I do. I may have misheard you.”
He studies you for a moment until he realizes that you are being facetious. “You heard me the first time.”
“Maybe I just want you to say it again.”
Sukuna sighs heavily. “I did not intend to make you cry, nor did I intend to make you feel as though I do not care for you. That is a foolish thought, but I understand I do not convey the depth of my feelings for you the way you wish me to convey it.”
You look dumbfounded as you stare at him in silence. Sukuna clicks his tongue, unsure of how you are going to respond.
“Quit staring at me and say something, woman.”
“I just… never thought…” you trail off, swallowing harshly. “I never thought you would ever say something like that to me.”
“You will only hear me say such things when you are- when I’ve made you unhappy,” he clarifies firmly. Your nose twitches, an involuntary movement that Sukuna catches and finds entirely too adorable. Your eyes are still damp, but your breathing has evened out.
“That’s the first,” you quip.
“Enough.”
You press your lips together, glancing at the flowers Sukuna brought you. Just then, you notice that they are your favorite.
You tell yourself you knew what you were getting into when you first started dating the king of curses, but at times you forget that Sukuna is in fact a demon, and a king at that. He does not believe in any better than what he is.
“You hurt my feelings, Sukuna,” you say softly. “Don’t you get what that means? At least for me?”
“No,” he responds honestly. “But I do see now that you have different needs. And I understand that I refuse to watch you cry if there is something I can do about it.”
You try to remain angry with him. You try to keep yourself distanced, but you can not help the way that you are softening, and Sukuna notices. A hint of a smirk curves at the corner of his lips.
“Is that all I had to say to make this better?”
“Shut the hell up,” you hiss. “It wouldn’t have killed you to apologize for the hundreds of other times we’ve fought, you know.”
“You weren’t crying the other times, woman.”
“It doesn’t matter,” you roll your eyes.
Sukuna tilts his head, placing a hand on his hip. “You’re not still upset, are you?”
“Yes,” you pout, and he catches on.
“What is it you want now, to be pampered like a spoiled brat?”
He makes the suggestion as if to offend you, but the two of you both know that he is hardly making a joke. “What I want is for you to fuck off.”
A chuckle rumbles in Sukuna’s throat as he makes his way over to you. You immediately break and screech when he yanks you forward by your ankle and loops you up into his arms before sitting down on your bed and setting you in his lap.
He looks you dead in the eye and lifts a rough thumb, swiping stubbornly at your tear stains and your damp lashes. “Crybaby,” he mutters, and you swat his hand away.
“Whatever, asshole.” You push at his chest with weak contempt and he looks at you boredly.
“You’re pitiful,” he grumbles, gripping your chin securely and guiding it to him. His blood red eyes seep into yours, gazing intently. “No more tears, do you understand?”
“Then don’t make me sad.”
“I won’t,” he tells you confidently.
A smile twitches on your lips as you look over him, completely unfamiliar with this side of the king of curses. “Can you do one more thing for me, and then I’ll maybe think about forgiving you?” you bite your lip, pressing your finger to his broad shoulder.
Sukuna grunts. “More demands, huh? I suppose you know how to take advantage of a situation. What more do you want?”
You wrap your arms over his neck. “Tell me how much you care about me,” you sing.
“Did I not just do so?”
“No, I want you to spell it out. Tell me you love me.”
“I highly tolerate you.”
“Tell me you loveeee me.”
“You are the only human being I do not frown upon.”
“Sukuna.”
“Christ, woman, you’re mine. Isn’t that enough?” he grits his teeth and you snort, patting his cheek gently.
“For now.”
“Such a pest, you know that?” he mumbles, pushing in swiftly to press his lips firmly to yours in a swift peck. “Don’t ever say I don’t care for you again. It is the most false and offensive thing I have ever heard."