#sugar x reader

[choslutz]

𝑰𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑳𝑳𝑭𝑬𝑬𝑳𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑺𝑨𝑴𝑬 !

𖧷 summary: ex!geto can’t let you go and as much as you hate to admit it, you still feel the same.

warnings: angst, crying, mutual pining, semi toxic relationship, mentions of a toxic relationship, depressive symptoms, y/n needs to get a grip, smut in next part.

pt.2 here

𖧷 a/n: i haven’t written in years, be kind to me! 1.6k

i still feel the same

your heart's beating different

show me nothing's changed

kiss me like you mean it

i felt you slip away

last you seen suguru geto, you hadn’t actually seen him. your head was bowed and cradled in your hands as your thumbs worked to soothe your aching temples. hours of a seemingly endless fight has just ceased and in its wreckage, left you and suguru emotionally drained and unable to look at one another.

of course this isn’t the first argument, far from it. in the last three months of your relationship with suguru arguments just continued to spark from seemingly nothing, an ember to a flame every time. neither of you were really to blame, it just seemed that after spending so much time together you had exhausted all of the positives you could find in one another. the smallest things would take a good day and turn it into something unsalvageable. the worst part is that everybody could tell.

the bags that formed under his eyes from sleepless nights and listless arguments amounting to nothing, the permanent puffiness around your eyes from endless crying.

the glances between you both in public, the grimaces, the eye rolls that once used to be playful now replaced by barely concealed contempt. your friends exchanged glances over your shoulders, whispered about you when you would step off to ‘talk.’ all of it, it embarrassed you. you weren’t this partner, you weren’t this person. eventually, it pained you to look in the mirror, to look at him and your shared apartment- the life you happily shared together, all of it was too tender and now it was replaced by something callous. try as you might, you can’t even place when or how it became this way.

losing him was like losing yourself and the life you birthed together, the apartment felt emptier by the day and his familiar mess was absent and replaced by nothingness. you had lost your friends in a sense too, even if they would never admit it. satoru, ieri, toji and ryomen all knew him before they ever knew you and even if they’re polite and extend you an invite here and there they know you’ll decline because he’ll be there.

so now you sit on your couch, a month later, in the same apartment now devoid of all of his things and watch a show that you started together before everything fell apart- punishing yourself. pictures of you, him and your- his friends still hang in polaroids on your fridge, in frames lining your wall, in holiday cards in a box under your bed. even now, a month later, you find yourself wearing the only sweater he left behind. your hand conveniently reaching past all of your own to grab onto his every time. the most pathetic part of you was hoping he would use it as an excuse to stop by (he never did).

the show is playing in the background as pitiful white noise because you knew, deep down, that if he wasn’t there to watch it with you it was all pointless… that and the fact that your attention has drifted to your phone where you have his instagram pulled up on your burner account.

his story is filled with light, friends surrounding him- people you don’t even know or recognize from your three years spent together. his eyes are brighter, his smile was wide and his hair is a little longer and maybe you were a bad person but you hated it all. it just leaves you feeling like more of a stranger, who are these fucking people and how the hell do you not know them? what other parts of his life had he shut you out of before everything inevitably ended? you tap tap tap tap through his story from last night and while you admit, he’s not exactly doing anything wrong, it still makes your stomach twist to see his arm slung over the shoulder of one of his ‘friends’ you never met. it's all-consuming and it keeps you frozen in place, upset etched into your features, chest heavy and breathing labored. your eyes, against all of your wishes and all common sense and all self-respect, start to brim with tears again.

despite it all, you still felt the same as you did a month ago.

he wasn’t yours anymore, he could do whatever he wanted, you reasoned with yourself. the pictures weren't even inappropriate- hell, you’d never even been the jealous type- he was. but still, your heart sunk and a pathetic cry managed to break past your lips.

hey.

your heart skips a beat and a tear manages to fall as you stare at the drop down notification from sugu the name that you had yet to change, just another effort to live in the past. frozen, you quite literally don’t know what to do. the juvenile part of you wants to rush to respond, but thankfully your body is too slow to react to your impulses. thinking better of it, and keeping you stuck.

you wipe your eye with the cuff of his sweater and pull down into your notification center to stare at the text some more without fully opening your text thread with him. you stand, and drop your phone face down on the couch and dust yourself off. eyes finding your ceiling as your hands drag down your face in an attempt to bring you back into the present.

eventually, you grab your phone and sit back down on the arm of the couch this time and swipe to open the thread. you type and retype again and again and again just to settle on an uninspired and terse;

hi suguru

you drop the phone as if all of a sudden it became scolding hot and shoot up repeating your earlier ministrations, dragging your hands down your pathetically flushed face. you feel like a teenager, restless and embarrassed in the way only he can get you.

you've been kinda MIA

the text leaves you staring in disbelief, what does that even fucking mean? and there it is, the familiar irritation which once again, only he can get out of you.

well i mean, we broke up. how around did you expect me to be?

you stare at your phone, irate, waiting for his reply.

i don’t want to argue with you, y/n.

you sigh, running a frustrated hand through your hair. one hand finding its familiar place on your temple and falling the ritualistic rhythm of rubbing it in circles.

i’m not arguing, i just don’t know what you want from me. thought we weren’t talking.

sorry.

you apologize despite yourself and admittedly, pathetically just trying to keep him talking to you, to find out what it is he really messaged you to say.

i’m just trying to say everybody misses you… and you don’t have to stay away because you hate me.

your eyes widen at the message and you genuinely don’t know what to say. communication with suguru had never really been your strong suit. you stumble over your words, you lose your train of thought and everything always comes out wrong every time. where did he get the idea that you hated him? is that what he’s been telling people? mercifully, for the first time you manage to say exactly what you mean.

i don’t hate you.

you act like it.

i haven’t even seen you in a month, suguru.

my point

you broke up with me, suguru. you left me. i’m not sure what you want from me here.

like i said, everybody misses you.

do you?

what was once a fast paced conversation comes to a screeching halt once he clearly doesn’t know what to say to you anymore. why did you text that, you knew it would end the conversation. but your curiosity, or rather your desperation, get the better of you. and truly the answer to your question- that’s all you cared about. fuck everybody else, they hadn’t come over since the breakup, they picked their side but him. why was he texting you? after everything you had put each other through, and why was he texting you now? on a random thursday night at 6:12pm?

you rack your brain for answers he clearly won’t give you as you wait impatiently for him to text you back and your eyes, against all better judgement, drift upward on your screen. and the masochistic, self-punishing part of you that you've come to loathe so much brings you to the last message you sent him.

fuck you.

your eyes stay so glued to the message that you don’t even notice he replied to you for a whole minute. the message is staring back at you, shoving it in your face that those were your parting words. it literally makes your heart clench. for that to be the last thing you left him with, it’s an evil reminder of how things ended, how hurt you were and how desperate you were to make him feel the same.

your eyes, again, glossed with the beginnings of another set of fresh tears. and despite the sadness, anger at him still makes your face hot. you somehow manage to bring your eyes down to the last thing he said:

if i came over rn, would you let me in?

𖧷

a/n: lmk if y'all like it teehee, if you do chap 2 maybe in like a day or two ;p

[rurumas]

two: the tale of the miserable man

chapter overview: sukuna decides to clear the misunderstanding, but still his impulses get the best of him — and words that were never meant to be spoken destroy everything he once took so much time to build.

contents: MDNI! no proof read!, casual mention of suguru x reader (reader is marrying suguru), everything is sukuna POV, lovers to ex-lovers to strangers, angst, no comfort, arguments, mentions of cheating (there's not), alcohol, mentions and use of drugs, heavy gaslighting, also mentions of mental abuse (?), reader was in a real bad mental state after their breakup, mentions of reader stopping eating (is brief), mention of sukuna’s and jin’s dad (aka yuji’s granpa), just sukuna realising he was an asshole to the only woman he loved.

a/n: I just want to say thank you for the attention this mini fic is getting — after this chapter I’ll try to finish the last part in the next days, I’m still thinking of how miserable I can make him

it takes twenty-five calls and over a hundred thirty-seven messages for you to answer the phone — but it’s not you who is answering it, it’s that asshole that calls himself your friend. of course that after an argument you would go and cry to suguru.

you knew he didn’t like him, heck, he hates him, and yet you went running to him the moment you had a small misunderstanding.

he scoffs and tries to keep his voice as calm as possible “tell her to get on the phone”

“no, if you need something from her tell me and then I’ll pass the message to her” suguru’s tone is laced with something else, is not anger nor disgust, is so venomous that he takes a few seconds to answer. who the hell does he think he is.

“look your sorry excuse of femboy, tell her to get on the phone or I’ll go myself and fetch her wherever she is” sukuna hears something in the background, it’s your voice, and before suguru can answer him again he hears your voice.

“sukuna, just stay there” you sound broken; your voice sounds so frail and tired — still he doesn’t know where the hell did he go wrong. he didn’t say anything, he even told you that it would be better to talk about in the morning. yet you decided to run away.

“I’ll be waiting” he says ‘I’m worried about you’ he thought about it, however, he remained silent and ended the call.

it’s barely an hour later when sukuna hears the giggling of keys at the entrance. he’s sitting, waiting, your light footsteps echoes in the living room, the air feels tense, so much that he feels he can cut it. you sit on the armchair far away from him.

it stings.

“I would appreciate for you to explain what the hell is going on” his voice is calm, he’s trying to keep it that way — he knows you don’t like getting screamed at.

“are you cheating on me?” your voice sounds calm, too calm even. sukuna is scared to look at your face, scared to look at your expression. the question per se is wild — what made you think that?

he would rather get his dick cut off than cheat on you.

“are you crazy?” his voice wavers, he almost raised the tone “look if you’re using that bastard mahito as your source of information don’t believe it” he sighs “don’t tell me all this drama is for you thinking I cheated on you?”

he looks at you, and for the first time since last night, sukuna feels that his lungs are lacking air. you eyes look empty, your face and body language look so distant that he feels that he’s looking at someone else.

he doesn't want to admit it, but you look like a complete stranger.

"sukuna, yesterday I told you that mahito sent me photo of chisato sitting on your lap" sukuna is silent, he looks down at his feet trying to recall the conversation you had last night – but it is impossible, he didn't know what he said, but it couldn't be that bad. probably you were overreacting things again. "you don't remember what you said right?"

he shocks his head, giving you the cue to answer your own question "you said 'and?' " he looks at you, a scoff leaves his lips.

"are you saying that all this fucking drama is because I said that shit?" he gets up, he feels a vein popping up on his forehead. he really tried to keep calm for you. but it's enough.

"look if your sorry insecure ass can't handle a fucking photo, then probably I'm not the problem but you" he looks a you, your face drained like if all colour left, but he doesn't care "I told you a hundred times that she is a friend – do you want me to fucking spell it for you, or is that tiny brain of your capable to process this minimum of information?!"

he feels his voice getting louder and aggressive – he knows it's wrong, that's going to scare you away. if he keeps acting like that he might lose you. he rubs his hands on his face trying to keep composure.

"you don't need to say more" your voice cuts through the thick air "that's everything I needed to hear" you stand up, again your face is lacking any type of emotion, even after those words you still showed no reaction; just emptiness. "I'm leaving sukuna, and the only thing I expect from you is to never reach out to me again"

"what the hell" he stands up as he sees you getting closer to the door "look at me. are you really going to leave?" he doesn't care anymore, fuck it. if this is about telling each others feelings he as might do the same.

"you of all people?" you turn around, your eyes are teeling something he dones't understand, like a sign. like if you were saying to stop. "no one is going to look at you like me, hell. no one is going to love you like me. mark that into that useless mind of yours. I'm the only person who can stand you and that insecureness you carry as a bag. you're no one" he tries to get closer, but before he can react he feels his head turning to the right side. a sting feeling resting on his left cheek.

"I hope you die alone sukuna" and with those last words you left what was once your shared apartment, your 'so' loving nest. now it's only him and his mind.

human relations can be hard, but processing feelings? even harder. how are you supposed to know how someone feels if you haven’t even figured out how you feel yourself? things could be black and white, if you’re angry you scream, if you’re sad you cry and if you’re hurt –– you leave. it’s easy math, an easy response to complicated feelings. why would someone try to communicate how they feel if in the end they’re the only ones who control their own reactions. no one has power in how to control someone’s feelings or interpretation of situations. 

even so, why is he still holding onto you? why does he feel like his head would explode at any given moment? why does he want to cry, scream and run? when you feel hurt, you leave – but he doesn’t want you to do that. but you did, and he was the cause of it. 

meeting you was like stepping inside a tornado, but instead of finding chaos, he found an oasis – a calm place, safe of any danger or any criticism, the only thing that mattered was you and him. you came into his life like a destructive phenomenon only to end up building all the foundations he ended up leaving to root.

the realization comes after you leave, he lets himself fall on the ground, letting the weight of his words and bad actions take upon him. he has the slight feeling that this time you are really not coming back. he is alone now, in an empty house, with someone who barely knows how to process feelings.

in the end, jin was right.

all rights reserved ©2025 rurumas. do not repost, copy, translate, or modify my works

[notiddygothgf]

𝙇𝙀𝙊! | 21 | P FKIN R | she/her | inbox CLOSED! sorry! love y'all!

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[oops-its-a-fanwork]

Tidbits about the lepom horror boys, Skull and Sugar 🤍

Some little facts and ideas about the Legendary Pokémon Horror boys, plus a better idea of what they are like! (and what they like to do with you <3!)

Read more about their home and backstory here!

Rock/psychic types, due to their species’ first typing always being psychic, and them being revived fossils which adds a rock typing!

They can both send huge pulses of levitation magic, as opposed to the smaller but more controlled version Sans and Papyrus can, due to their core memory of needing to keep the entire ceiling of a cave up long enough for people to evacuate. They can't teleport though: it seems as if that is a skill that has evolved when the guarded area became bigger: going from the mountain and its immediate surroundings to to an entire region, which is closer to a large country in size.

Sugar’s crystals glow in the dark just like the crystals littering the caves. Outside of the mountain this would make him stand out in the dark, making going outside a little unnerving for him as well. Inside it actually camouflages him completely with the caves though, and he accidentally jump-scared you more times than you'd like to admit. Or maybe he did it on purpose. You still have some trouble determining just how mischievous this dude really is.

Skull has quite a blank stare starting out, not having eyes or even eyelights, but he learns to create eyes as time goes on. He usually goes with a version of a duskulls’ glowing red eye, as they were the first ones to offer to teach him and they get along well. In time, other eyes may be added to the roster. I personally think you two should hold your own little private pokémon beauty contest and you should teach him to create anime eyes. Instant win.

Sugar is a great storyteller: his role in officiating marriages, leading rituals and tasks like that have made him great at speeching, getting people's attention, getting at the core of the matter and all that jazz. He loves to recount stories of how things used to be to the younger pokémon. Don't get it wrong though: he’s just as good a listener as he is a speaker, and he loves hearing stories and new info about the world around him. Just don't pressure him to find out about this new world too soon ok? Give him some time to adjust.

Skull loves listening to these stories, and still has some faint memories of hearing ancient sugar speech near the temple, surrounded by humans and pokémon. If he closes his eyes it's almost like he’s there…

Sugar, ever the multitasker, was also one of the trial masters of the area! Specifically in charge of the more physical puzzle aspects, Sugar was in charge of designing trials for anyone who had something to prove: coming of age rituals, trials to pass before joining a high ranked position, you name it! Those who wanted to prove themselves before they left the mountain in search of adventure would come to ask for a trial based on their strengths and weaknesses, and he would pour his soul into that special design. And don’t think that he’ll go easy on you: falling down is a part of life. Now what will you do, brave human?

Skull would help his brother with the puzzles. As in, he would use his levitation magic for certain parts, make sure no one gets hurt, and maybe give some advice now and then. His own trials however, would be the judge of character, and he would be a voice of letting people learn life lessons. If Sugar made sure that people knew that when you fall you always get up, then Skull was the voice telling you to reflect on your past and let go of it, decide what you want now and use that knowledge to do it. He wouldn't tell people what's right or wrong (although he was usually the one to kick people out on the rare occasion it was necessary) but he knew how to get honest answers out of someone on who they are and who they want to be.

Skull is an absolute cuddlebug, and Sugar’s love language is full of acts of service and gift giving. This pretty much means that Skull will often curl up around you and fall asleep rumbling some deep purr when he gets to know and love you, and Sugar will usually be cooking you up many different things, as they combine both of those love languages quite well: 

You can create a cuddle pile with Skull and all your pokémon if you all need a rest, and he might transform into an even bigger pokémon to fit you all on top of him. Talk to him like this and you can feel him rumble out his answers, scratch or pet him he’ll be putty in your hands. This absolute sweetheart would even put energy into trying to regulate his temperature to make everyone comfortable. Hot outside? He cools himself a few degrees. Cold weather? He’ll warm himself up like a radiator. It takes a long time for him to (re)learn this skill, so do let him know you appreciate it!

Besides cooking and baking for you, Sugar would love to teach you some recipes too! Maybe even some medicines and local delicacies while you're at it! And he’ll be talking about what he knows about it the entire time, inquiring about your preferences and stories as well. He doesn't really have the energy to match his enthusiasm anymore though, so be sure to help him take a break and talk to him so he can sit back and listen. His loss of energy used to bother him immensely, but sitting like this, eating a dish made with a new recipe while listening to you talk about what has happened recently, it might not be that bad at all.

Skulls name plate actually went from ‘unknown pokémon skull, damaged by falling debris', to 'unknown pokémon skull, damaged', to 'unknown damaged skull',  'damaged skull' to finally just  'Skull', and I need you all to know that the kids in that town have a lot of power man. They change history. They pick fates. They tell the museum staff they’re being meanies and everyone's just like “Dang I guess you’re right let’s fix that”. They live in the perfect society tbh. 

[simpingforblackfire]

Nah I’m good: Part 1 Platonic (yandere?) Bruce Wayne x f reader x (romantic) Sugar

A/N: Heads up I may post this to my ao3 Homoeroticmicrowave so if you see this on that account there than it isn't fic stealing please don't come for me there

Tw: mentions of suicide, joking about suicide, references to suicide, sexual content, smut

Chapter 1 of Nah I’m good: Day so far from 1 but also so far from being day I get to retire

Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. Your hand shook. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. It had been kept tensed long past cramping as you repeated the same action with it over and over and over. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. Your eyelids trembled as it seemed that the part of your brain that focused on keeping them open began to shut down. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. Your vision blurred as you saw more of your eyelashes than your surroundings. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. Your peripheral had been completely blocked out by exhaustion. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. Your eyes and the delicate flesh around it felt like it was corroding. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. It was as though the bags underneath your eyes had clamped onto your waterline and hung onto it with such a grotesquely heavy weight that it dragged your eyes down. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. Your eyes burned so much you thought about just plunging pencils into them and scraping them out of your sockets. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat.

The scanners, the printers, the typing of computers, the all too loud and ignorant obnoxious chattering of particularly unaware men too loud to hear the grit toothed mutterings of their co-workers quietly demanding they shut up. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. You found yourself being one of them sometimes. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. You had a painful headache that felt like your head had been bashed against a lampost. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. With the amount you had been drinking last night you wouldn't have been surprised if it had been. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. You couldn't remember a thing from it. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. It was like one minute you were at a bar and after some kind of haze like a dream you couldn't remember but you knew you had you were awake in bed. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. All the sounds around you seemed to merge together, twisting and morphing into one jarringly caustic humming sound that ached your ears. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. All while you had to do the same thing over and over and over again. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. How many times did you have to repeat the same, stupid action over and over again. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. The same action. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. Who knew just one action when repeated over and over could bring a person to the brink of some kind of border between absolute boredom and ecstatic insanity. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. It was no wonder Gotham had so many villains. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. Your hands itched to tear themselves away. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. Do anything, anything else. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. It didn't matter what, not anymore. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. You dreaded thinking of doing this one action ever again in your life. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat.

This wasn't your usual job. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. At least it wasn't supposed to be. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. This shit wasn't in the contract. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. At least not when you read it. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. But when you brought it up, apparently it came under 'being prepared to do necessary work'. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. Of course you don't get paid extra for this. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. No you see you only get paid for what you were hired to do. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. This was not what you were hired to do. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. What you were hired to do was assist your 'chief scientific officer' in whatever project they were leading as well as pitching your own ideas (so the credit may be snatched up by said chief scientific officer) and stapling pages together was not shown on the list of duties you got paid overtime to complete in the job description. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. In fact you didn't get paid overtime at all. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. Anyway this particular task of stapling a seemingly endless pile of papers together was not your job. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. It was actually Marvins. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. See Marvin wasn't the big bad around your workplace but he was your boss and that meant he got to be an asshole. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. So now Marvin was getting paid for work you were doing while he slacked off. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. You understood why people murdered other people. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. If you were a killer Marvin would be at the top of your hit list. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. You regretted that you weren't. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. Now you never wanted to see another stapler again in your life. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat.

How many times had you repeated the motion of grabbing two papers together, sticking them in the stapler and pressing down on it harder than you should have needed to because it never stamped easily. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. That stapler really should have been tossed in a bin years ago. For a piece of equipment that no one bothered to replace, it seemed to be one that everyone needed to use. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. The stapler made a creaking noise as you pressed on it before it finally actually stamped down and you could hear a distinctive click. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. You never wanted to hear any of those noises again. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. It felt like something was gnawing away at your eardrums and slowly ripping the back of your brain a part. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. You just wanted to go home at this point. Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. It felt like the only pronounced noise through the buzzing of your surroundings.Press. Stamp. Click. Repeat. You wanted to scratch at your ears until they were so bloodied you couldn't even hear the noise in your head anymore. Press. Stamp. Click-

You felt something touch your shoulder.

You physically jerked, flinching away from the sudden contact and snapping around to face whatever had touched you. 

"Sorry, I didn't startle you did I?" the woman smiled, her eyes intensely fixed on your agitated ones "I didn't mean to scare you"

You stared stunned and stupid for a moment before saying "No, um you're okay, I was just pretty consumed by....stapling"

"Right" the woman's smile never left her face and despite how awkward you felt you couldn't say her smile was even slightly condescending, though it was definitely more than a little amused.

"Hey um" you rubbed the back of your neck "have I seen you anywhere before? You look kind of well- um familiar?"

That actually prompted a laugh from this woman as she said "You might have"

You furrowed your brows, creasing your forehead and no doubt making yourself look as old and ancient as you felt in that moment of tiredness. You definitely knew her face from somewhere. She just stood there smiling at you and then like a train, realization smacked you in the face. "We met last night- didn't we" her expression didn't move "in that bar"

The woman chuckled "you make quite the detective" her little smile didn't seem to falter an inch even as she spoke her next words "I didn't realise I was so forgettable"

You flushed, pressing a hand to your forehead to massage it "Look I am so sorry- I was very- I'm very out of it right now and my heads a little fuzzy- I'm sorry I didn't well-"

The woman cut you off with a giggle "hey it's alright, so was I. Besides I wouldn't have expected to see me here either if I were you, though I am a little offended you forgot so easily"

You inwardly groaned "I'm sorry-"

"No" she interrupted you "I was just teasing you, besides" she reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder, smoothing out the fabric of your shirt with her thumb "I can always remind you".

You felt your heart spark with a jolt and you swallowed hard. Your tongue felt heavy with a lot of things that you thought but your mouth felt too dry and your throat too closed up for words to come out. You felt like the part of your brain that had been malfunctioning had now just been kicked so hard it shut down completely. 

Before you could find a way to wiggle your way out of the discomfort of this interaction, your least favourite catalyst for making situations somehow worse came to you in the form of one of your bosses "ah if it isn't my favourite, little employee”

You had to stop yourself from hunching over and burying your face into your hands as you heard your boss speak in a disturbingly cheery voice. You knew it was one of your bosses who was more higher up the chain (Mr dickface Reynolds) by the sound of his voice and you knew that there was no doubt that your bosses boss was trailing behind him because your bosses voice was cheery and Mr Reynolds did not experience positive emotions, or any emotion outside of anger. His favourite hobbies included crushing the hopes and dreams of fresh faced interns by sucking the potential and passion out of them until they were long past crying at night and just became empty husks held together by bitterness and antidepressants.

”Mr Wayne allow me to introduce you to one of my finest employees”

’Finest employee’ yeah he wasn’t heading towards you then.

A cold streak shot through your back and you stood up stunned straight as you realised he was right behind you. Your boss proceeded to slap on the back in what was likely supposed to be friendly gesture but was actually just a direct hit to your spine. It took you every ounce of your will power not to curse out a string of vicious language.

'Oh what an absolutely, great opportunity to meet with the CEO of the company I work for.... Just wish I was just a smidge less absolutely jackhammered for it'

You heaved in a breath before turning around with a plastered smile on your face. You tried not to wince as you saw your CEO’s outstretched hand and suddenly all you could think of was whether or not this man washed his hands after using the bathroom. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr Wayne” you spoke as sweetly as you could to make up for any looks of disgust you might accidentally be sending his way. You met his hand halfway to reciprocate the handshake and as your hand made contact with his there came the horrific thought of ‘even if he does wash his hands- which he likely does considering the clean state of his nails- how many peoples hands had he shaken before yours? How many of the owners of said hands washed their hands before going to the bathroom?’ You kept your hand loose in his but he just didn’t seem to drop the handshake and suddenly not only was he now just holding your hand he was placing a hand on your shoulder and smiling at you. 

“The pleasures all mine. I’ve been following your work, it’s very impressive. I expect we’ll be seeing great things from you in the future” 

You kept smiling but became distinctly aware of how violated your personal space was right now “Thank you sir”  

Mr Wayne thankfully removed himself from your personal space after that and you mentally praised the Lord for a moment, having found religion in the few seconds wheee you decided to beg whatever entity might be out there to just please get this man to remove himself from you.

You felt like lasers were being burned into the side of your head and you looked to the left of you to see Mr Reynolds eyes wide and manic like they were torn open.  He was giving you a hard stare as if to say ‘don’t mess this up’ his toothy smile resembling more of a gorilla baring it's teeth than an actual person who was trying to genuinely be friendly.

“I hired this one myself” Mr Reynolds puffed out his chest with a gleefully high pitched voice. You held back a scoff at that. Mr Reynolds name might have been on the paper but it was one of his assistants that hired you not him. (Linda, lovely woman actually she made you eat the food she brought in sometimes after being stricken by your poor diet habits. It was really nice food she gave you as well you just wish she didn’t keep asking if it was good every time you finished a bowl and then when you said it was she’d say ‘eat’ and stare you down until you did) “I have an eye for potential you see”. 

Mr Wayne seemed to also be holding back something close to an eye roll like you when Mr Reynolds got into a ramble that was essentially just him floating about himself and how good he was at doing things.

You let out a breath of relief through your nose when you heard Mr Reynolds declare ”Anyway we shouldn’t stay here too long, you are on a schedule Mr after all Mr Wayne and there is much to be shown!” 

Mr Wayne gave you one last polite smile before following Mr Reynolds to wherever the hell he was dragging him off to next. No wonder Mr Wayne rarely visited the lower floors you would too if you could. If you had to see Mr Reynolds pretend to be happy and excited every day you would take to tucking yourself away in a cushy office to avoid him at all costs. You never would have thought you’d actually prefer to see Mr Reynolds angry than fake happy.

You turned around to see if that woman was there and (just as you figured she would have) she had disappeared. You had no idea at what point she’d slipped away it was like she disappeared the moment you turned your back on her. You couldn’t blame her for it though Mr Reynolds had a way of scaring women away. It was like his speciality. 

Just as you thought you might finally be able to find peace and go home you heard “Hey newbie” one of your technical bosses (Gavin the worlds biggest douchebag who had definitely been name checked in at least 3 peoples suicide notes in the time he’d been about) slammed a horrendously large pile of paperwork in front of you “can’t fit this in my schedule bit since you look about done here you’ll be able to fit it right” Gavin didn’t even give you a chance to speak before winking at you and saying “thanks newbie”. You hadn’t been ‘new’ for two years. Gavin was just an asshole.

It was at this point where you really considered to be a definite fourth person to name check Gavin on a suicide note or to just become a murderer and kill him because whatever the consequence to that was it was worth it. You rubbed your face groaning as you couldn't help but let your brain wander to the events of last night with this woman. 

You don’t remember how or when exactly but at some point you had been drinking in a bar and then at another you were talking with that woman. You remembered when you looked in her eyes you couldn't help but be reminded of bubbles, as her whole body seem to glow with this bouncing, child-like aura.

At some point you two ended up leaving the bar together, arms linked and leaning on each other as you relentlessly giggled. Your memories were blurry and didn’t seem to patch together right but you two went from holding hands to swinging your entwined hands and then you two decided it would be far more fun to spin around in a circle while holding hands.

 Her laugh seemed to fly through the air and you couldn't help but grin at her, her face was so bright and careless and full of bustling life and it was like she could spin you both far away into the sky if she wanted to. Despite how it may have felt she didn't spin you into the sky. She actually ended up spinning the both of you into the ground though, but the moment you looked at her and saw she was smiling. 

You have no idea how you managed to make it to her house in one piece but judging by the way you ached currently it may have been one piece but it was a severely battered piece. When you got to her place she decided the party didn’t have to end at the par and she put on music. You certainly go a kick out of that. You remembered swaying stupidly to the music as you got closer and closer to her and than you were real close, like really, really close. Even through your hazy, stuttering eyes you could make out little details on her face. You felt like you didn't need to blink anymore, like your eyes could never dry up, not when they were swimming in the colours of hers. Glints of glowing white dotted her eyes and it made it look like the stars were dancing in them.

You didn't even register what you were doing entirely before you were leaning past the boundary of innocence and your lips were on hers and you found very quickly that you weren't looking for a peck. A moments kiss was not merely enough for you and the little length a part you were was too much and you needed her closer. Your hands found her waist, fingers shaking while gripping her with a vulnerable excitement and you felt like your hands were tingling as a warmth pounded in your chest when your fingers found the gap between her shirt and skirt, where skin was exposed. Her hands gripped your face and you felt her nails softly scraping down the side of your cheek and you couldn't help but think what her nails would feel like digging into and running along your back. You couldn't help but pull her closer by her waist so you were pressed up against one another. You felt her lips part against yours and you let your lower lip fall loose and you felt like you were boiling as her tongue slipped through your lips.

Breathlessly desperate and wanting you pulled away for a moment. Your eyes opened but only by a half and they immediately fell on her eyes that were only just flickering open to meet yours. Her eyes darker than they had been as her pupils were now blown wide with a rushing lust that you were sure matched yours. Fuck you wanted her.

 Scratching, scraping, bruising. She marked you with an evidence of her and you found yourself kind of hoping it would linger. Your eyes were shut for most of it but whenever you did open them all you felt your heart spike as you saw her. Hot and wet and heavy with want.

You thunked your head onto your desk and groaned before throwing yourself back against your chair and huffing as you stared at the ceiling. That memory stung in your mind as sharp as a hangover. You were so fucked. 

It felt like an eternity just to get through half the mountain sized pile of paper work that you swear to god was swaying from the sheer height of it. You had been patted on the shoulder by a total of five of your coworkers on their way out who pitied you enough to cause your shoulder ache a little more but not enough to help you out with the obnoxiously large pile of paper work stacked on your desk curtesy of Gavin. By the time you finished it your hands had cramped at least ten times and it seemed no amount of massaging would bring back feeling into your hands. All you wanted was to just flop on your bed face first and sleep and then never wake up. You trudged into the lift at the end of the room. You felt like you had just experienced the longest day of your life, but finally you could go home and not have to deal with anyone else's-

"Hold the door!" your CEO was now surging towards you, his arm outstretched to catch the door. You briefly considered letting the door close on him. It was a very tempting thought and it called to you so sweetly you couldn't help but consider it.

”Thanks” Mr Wayne smiled at you. Of course you had to hold the bloody elevator you’d be screwed if you didn’t. 

“Don’t mention it” you gave a quick tight lipped smile back before turning to face the closing doors.

You felt your headache buzzing slightly as the lift started going down. ‘It’s okay I’ll be home soon. I’m almost home. I’m going home now. I am leaving this building now’ you chanted in your head soothingly.

The lift suddenly shook violently and you were nearly knocked off your feet in shock as the lift shuddered and thrashed, releasing a loud screeching noise as it did like a scream before coming to a halt. Your heart scrambled in your chest and you stuck out your hand to lean against the side of the lift. You whipped your head to face Mr Wayne and he seemed to be just as white in the face as you felt. 

Yeah…you didn’t think elevators were supposed to do that.

A/N:

I love Drew Barrymore's Batman movie. I don’t remember anything that happens in it but I remember that Drew Barrymore looked very good in it and I was mildly afraid of Nicole Kidman as a kid but in a way that made me like her more. I feel like if Nicole Kidman was a bad guy in it (like I originally thought she was going to be as a kid when I first watched it) I would have probably liked her a lot more. I don’t know what that says about me but I’m sure it will be fine. 

Btw I haven’t revised this so this is a little note saying that I may or may not edit this later depends what wins embarrassment or laziness (likely the latter) anyway here’s a reminder that I do not take criticism because I cry both easily and a lot (that is a joke but also no it isn’t).

Btw if you could reblog this that would help me out xx 

[jkeuphoriadreamland]

Could i get 16,53, and 70 with Suga????

here you go !

Yoongi x reader

18 + M

16.    “No, I’m supposed to be making you feel good.”

 53.   Bedroom

 70.   Eating out

Flat on your back, you try to reach up to pull Yoongi’s mouth away from your pussy, but he wasn’t having it.

“Stop it.  Be a good girl and take it.”

“But...I wanna make you feel good, too.” you reply breathlessly.

“No, I’m supposed to be making you feel good.”  Roughly he widens your legs even more and when his tongue dips further into your sopping wet cunt, you cry out into the room.

It was your birthday and he promised to make it a good one.  Somehow you both ended up in his bedroom with his head between your thighs, making this the third orgasm you’d be having.

His tongue flicks in and out as his fingers press roughly against the flesh of your inner thighs.  He’s had to hold you down, over sensitivity making you restless.  

Curling his tongue over your clit, he pulls it into his mouth and gently bites at the swollen nub. You’re going crazy, pulling your hair out of desperation.  The tickling sensation was overpowering, but so was the need to reach your high.  He had you so close and then he took it away.

“You need to learn how to stay still and take your present like a good girl.”

Pressing two fingers into your cunt, you buck up when his tongue presses flatly against you clit. The entire show is lewd, squelching sounds and begging filling the air.  Your feel no shame at your actions, wanting so badly to cum.  

Needing to finally reach your sweet death, you roll up and into his mouth roughly.

Yoongi lets you, knowing full well he’d made you this way.  You were mad with need and who was he to deny you your release?

Finally hitting the right button, you explode, body convulsing with the multiple orgasms hitting you at once.  Tears are pouring out of your eyes as you tear out a pathetic sound from your throat.

Yoongi watches as you shatter, slurping up the cum flowing from your cunt.

“Happy birthday, kitten.”

[rurumas]

HER

sinopsis: in which sukuna is forced to see the love of his life, marry the love of her life.

contents: casual mention of suguru x reader (reader is marrying suguru), everything is sukuna POV, lovers to ex-lovers to strangers, angst, no comfort, arguments, alcohol, mentions and use of drugs, heavy gaslighting, also mentions of mental abuse (?), reader was in a real bad mental state after their breakup, mentions of reader stopping eating (is brief), just sukuna realising he was an asshole to the only woman he loved.

a/n: this will be divided in three parts, everything is from sukuna's point of view – please if I forgot to mention any trigger make sure to let me know! also this has not been proof read yet! + divider by @hyuneskkami !

CHAPTERS

when the flower that withered once finally blooms

the tale of the miserable man

don't destroy what's not meant to be destroyed.

all rights reserved ©2025 rurumas. do not repost, copy, translate, or modify my works.

[simpingforblackfire]

Hear me out 

I got drunk and ended up watching some Batman movie that had Drew Barrymore in it and due to me being absolutely in love with her now I want to write a fic where the reader works for Bruce Wayne and gets kidnapped by Twoface and at first she’s freaked out but then she sees Drew Barrymore’s villain Sugar and instantly falls in love with her (maybe the readers from the real world and knows she’s in a goofy film that will probably not end badly for her due to it being for kids) and when Batman comes to save her she’s just like “nah I’m good” and then Batman’s just like “wym you’re good” and the readers like “I mean I’m good so can you like go” and Batman’s like “I’m not going to leave you here” and then the readers like “yes you are now shoo, arrivederci , vamoose, orevwa”

Is it gonna be a romantic or platonic Batman? Who knows? Is it gonna be yandere? Another good question.

All I know for sure is that all of my unfinished GOT, marvel, top gun, resident evil and other DC fics that I had lined up to write are crying out for some love and attention and to actually be written and published.