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#...even when you're alone and even when you can express those emotions...
uncanny-tranny · 2 years
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Your child self was right when they thought they deserved better. They were right when they said they weren't being treated fair. They were absolutely right in saying they are allowed to be upset or even angry.
Your child self was right. And you're still allowed to say that what happened to you was unfair - that you deserved better. You're right to be upset or even angry. Your child self was not wrong.
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threadbaresweater · 2 months
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megumi's friends can tell when he's thinking about you.
"fushiguro, you're turning red again."
"megumi's got that look in his eyes..."
"hey lover boy, your feelings are showing."
he'll glower at them, but there's a hint of a smile that curls its way onto his face, and his eyes sparkle when he scratches the back of his neck and looks away. "shut up."
"did she text you?"
"have you guys even kissed yet?"
there's laughter at the table, remnants of lunch scattered about. megumi pokes at his leftover rice and rests his chin in his hand. he has kissed you, in fact. it may or may not be what he was thinking about before his friends interrupted him with their good-natured ribbing.
he doesn't divulge many details to anyone about you or your blossoming relationship. the moments you share are for you and him only. it isn't that he's embarrassed of you. far from it. he's filled with an overwhelming urge to shout it from the rooftops that he likes you, and you like him back, and when he holds your hand he feels all those horribly cliché emotions that he's only ever read about.
he doesn't understand how he got so lucky, and he doesn't want to ruin it. he doesn't want to scare you off with just how devoted he is. so he tampers it down. he plays it cool, indifferent even, and pretends that you don't occupy every thought when you're not at his side (and sometimes even when you are).
"hi megumi."
he can't breathe when he hears your voice. nobara and yuuji wave and smile while megumi turns around to see you standing there, lunch tray in hand, your smile brilliant and adoring.
"can I sit with you?"
"we were just talking about you!" nobara says, elbowing yuuji in the ribs. if looks could kill, megumi would be accused of first degree murder.
you slide into the seat next to your boyfriend and laugh lightly. "well, I hope it was good talk!"
"we were teasing fushiguro about how–"
"shut up," he warns, though there's little threat detectable in his expression because he's rendered into hopeless fluff when you're this near.
yuuji holds his hands up in surrender. "fine, fine! but I bet she'd think it's cute that you–"
"–look like a total sap when you're thinking about her," nobara says before he can kick her under the table fast enough.
"it's no different than the way he looks at me normally," you say through a smile. the two friends on the other side of the table howl with laughter. megumi looks like he wants to dissolve. "it's cute."
you're left alone eventually, just the two of you, and megumi reaches for your hand. he's tentative, as if holding himself back from touching you in a more intense way.
"no one's ever told me I'm cute," he says. he's looking at you with those lovestruck eyes again, and your tummy does a flip or two.
"well, they're blind," you insist. he doesn't know how to respond to that, so he squeezes your hand a little harder.
"I think you're beautiful. and I think about you all the time," he admits.
it's your turn to feel flustered, but the way he's so earnest about his compliments makes it hard to tear your gaze away from his face. "Thank you," you whisper.
neither of you really know how love is supposed to work, but you think maybe you're on the right track.
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actual-changeling · 6 months
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we do not talk enough about the moment right before crowley puts his sunglasses back on. the "nothing lasts forever" is devastating and if you're like me your eyes were so full of tears you couldn't see the screen the first time you watched it (just like crowley, look at us all twinning in sadness!).
there is a shift that happens in his eyes and i think it is absolutely fascinating and heartbreaking at the same time.
we begin with crowley averting his gaze from aziraphale's face and staring off into the distance instead, and you can see his spirit break. that crowley just lost the one thing in the world he cannot live without and we can see it written across his face like a neon sign.
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then, as you'd expect, he gives into the need to cover up his pain, to try and make himself less vulnerable, and even before he lifts his glasses he looks down so aziraphale can no longer see his eyes.
now, the next part is what would not let me out of its grasp all day. we know it happens because of his demeanour afterwards and up until the kiss, but you can actually watch as crowley makes himself numb to the world.
i am intimately familiar with dissociation as a trauma and stress response, and while you can never fully control it, you do eventually find the switch in your mind that makes you snap back into the haze. crowley has had six thousand years to get really, really good at leaving reality behind when he needs and/or wants to.
that's exactly what he does.
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he still looks sad, and yet there's just something distinctly distant in his eyes, the shift from openly heartbroken to "i don't want to feel any of this let me leave".
glasses? on
emotions? off
hotel? trivago
i have stared at those four frames more than any person probably should and i don't know if it's the light, if i am going insane, or if there is a single tear sliding out of his right (our left) eye. i'm probably insane and the light is a bitch so if anyone has some high resolution shots or anything that could answer that question without a doubt PLEASE do add it.
by now you are probably ready to threaten me with a knife in a dark alley but before you do that or drive your car off a cliff, let me tell you the best part:
aziraphale notices.
they might be communicating on two different frequencies but aziraphale knows crowley. he knows and loves him, and, most importantly, over the last few years he has gotten used to seeing crowley without his glasses. aziraphale could probably write a book on the expressions in his eyes alone and watches that shift happen and is devastated.
look.
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he tries to make himself hope the same second, tries to convince himself crowley is putting on his glasses so they can leave together, but he knows.
aziraphale sees the light leave crowley's eyes, sees crowley leave, knowing that he is quite literally running away from him. you and me against the world, angel, but in that moment crowley firmly pushes him back to "the world" (or tries to, anyway).
the entire season we see crowley take off his glasses whenever he enters the bookshop to the point where he's running around without them on in broad daylight with jimbriel right there.
can you imagine how hurt and confused aziraphale must be?
because what crowley is telling him, if we really, really break it down, is that aziraphale is no longer a safe person for him. and repairing that trust is going to take time and work, no matter how much crowley loves him, how badly they love and need each other.
anyway to seal this off and really rub in the pain - how it started vs. how it ended. <3
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oh one last thing: now crowley no longer has a single person he can be himself around, no one that knows him, no one he trusts. no one in whose presence he can take his glasses off.
and outside of the bentley and his own flat, he no longer has a place to do so either. the bookshop was theirs. with aziraphale gone, is it really a safe place anymore? is it somewhere he can just let himself be knowing he will be looked after and protected?
easy answer: no.
alright, off i go. see y'all on the next angst post or in the tags.
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ridleymocki · 6 months
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(seeing so many bad faith interpretations of the argument, y'all are really going to make me do this, okay HERE WE GO)
.................................
What Ed says: "I think last night was a mistake. I'm not ready for... Whatever this is."
What Ed means: "I didn't want last night to happen so soon or under those circumstances. Things are changing rapidly, which makes me feel out of control and scared."
What Stede hears: "I regret sleeping with you. I don't want the sort of relationship that you're after."
.................................
What Stede says: "It was a fine fish. It was... whatever. I was just trying to make you feel good!"
What Stede means: "I only cared about the fish because you cared about it, and I care about you. I liked the fish because it made you happy. Ordinarily, I'm ambivalent about fish."
What Ed hears: "I lied to you. I didn't care about your achievement I was just placating you to get what I wanted."
.................................
What Ed says: "Here's the news: I'm leaving. I got a job on a little fishing boat and I'm leaving. I'm a fisherman now."
What Ed means: "I think I need to be away from you to figure out who I am, because I haven't been able to do that while we're together, and your lifestyle now is the life I'm trying to leave behind."
What Stede hears: "I've made a decision to leave you and have a life without you. I don't value what we have enough to work with you to find a solution, I'd prefer to end it."
.................................
What Stede says: "Oh, Ed. Seriously? You're not a fisherman."
What Stede means: "I think you're using this plan to escape and avoid your problems. It sounds like you're pretending to be someone else. It seems to me like an impulsive decision and I am concerned."
What Ed hears: "I don't support this ambition. I think you're incapable. I don't think you can be different from what you have always been."
.................................
This is the kind of analysis done in therapeutic environments. When I put what they mean, it's not just a rephrasing but a boiling down to the core issue. I could go on to the rest of the dialogue but do you see the continuing ship-in-the-night miscommunication?? It's tripartite:
failing to express one's current emotional reality with the most accurate and clear language, often because that reality is not fully understood to oneself,
misinterpreting the other's language, due to preexisting sensitivities and defensiveness about one's own understanding of the situation,
increasing frustration and sense of personal attack that results from those misinterpretations, which perpetuates and worsens the poor communication.
Importantly, this kind of pattern means you miss the best and most important kernels of communication in an exchange because you're reacting to the more inflammatory parts.
Stede: "This can be whatever we want it to be." (I am willing to make changes to our arrangement so that you're happy). Ed: "I don't even know who I am! Alright? I know I don't want to be a pirate. And you, you're blowing up, you're the toast of the town." (I think we want different things. You're just starting a journey that I've already finished).
With those two bits alone they could've sorted this out. The first is the answer to the second. But they didn't -- couldn't -- latch onto it because all their other baggage was getting in the way.
And I'm being proven correct that this is what is happening, because I have seen next to nothing on here about the above two lines, only reactionary takes of fans also focusing on the inflammatory parts because of their predispositions. You're doing an encore performance of what they're doing.
Point being, there are no bad guys in this scene, just repeated system failure!
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eustasskidagenda · 7 months
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hello!! ^^ this is my first time requesting, so hopefully i'm doing this correctly :;
can I request a trafalgar law/reader hurt to comfort oneshot, where the two of them get into a really big argument or fight and reader decides to leave him alone for a long time, so THAT eventually leads to some problems between the two and Law has to make things right??
(basically reader gives law the silent treatment, and law is too prideful to admit his wrongs)
thank you in advance!!! I've really enjoyed reading your kid works, so i'd be happy to see more of your writing :)
☆Trafalgar Law x Reader giving him the silent treatment after an argument 
Hello dear anon, don't worry, you did it perfectly and thank you so much for your request. I had a lot of fun writing it and I hope it will match your expectation. Enjoy our dear emo boy!
CW : g/n reader, hurt&comfort, Law is bad at express how he feels, let me know if I forgot something
WC : around 2,000 words, whoops, I love Law way too much, I got carried away
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Law is not a man of many words. That's the less you can tell. Always quiet about his plans, sometimes, you still struggle to understand what's going on in this beautiful mind. Usually, you just deal with it, supporting him as much as you can. But today, it's too much to handle. He is perpetually busy all day and night, and sometimes the bed is cold, and you know he didn't sleep with you. It hurts. You just have the feeling to carry on with this relationship alone. 
"We need to talk, Law." Busy with probably another shenanigan you don't know about, he totally ignores you and continues to read his newspaper. Again. Heavy-hearted, you close your eyes and clench your firsts. You can't step back and always try to round the corners. "Law", you insist. He finally drops the newspaper. "What, y/n-ya?" He asks, annoyed by the interruption. 
"Honestly, lately… I feel totally sidelined. You're always focused on your plans I don't nothing about, or busy with your patients. And it hurts" Law looks surprised by your words. Usually, you're more the one trying to smooth the things and trying to be super-comprehensive, because you do love Law, and you know he had been through a lot. Supporting him is the least you can do. But what about you? Your emotions? 
"I've not neglected you, y/n-ya. I'm just busy." Yes. That's the whole point. "You're always busy. If you don't need me anymore, just say it," you snarls, anger slowly heating your chest and burning your cheeks. Communication is maybe the key, but it's a struggle to communicate with someone as reserved as Law. The worst? You know he loves you. He's just… an aloof. Always distrustful. "Answer me," your voice is shaky from both anger and distress. " I have things to do, y/n-ya. Don't act like a child. I still feel the same way about you, and you know. " 
Maybe it's true, but you don't believe him anymore. You don't even remember the last time you kissed that sweet lips on him. And the feeling of his fingers entwined with yours, when you redraw the lines of his tattoos, cuddling with him in bed. How can you feel the absence of someone you see every day? "I miss you," you confess. "But I'm right here. With you. I need to get those things done, so please be patient." Why can't he understand? With that unreadable face, he's still sitting on his chair. What's going on his mind? "What things, then?" He sighs. "I can't tell." 
No. It's enough. Now, you're mad. "Stop pushing me away! I miss you. Do you realize the absurdity of missing someone I can see every day? It's been four days since we last slept together! This morning, you didn't kiss me! You're always taking me for granted and I feel like I'm transparent!" At last, you manage to get a response from him. He removes his hat, runs his hand through his hair, and his eyes darken as your anger is about to explode. "Can you not be patient? I need to… finish what I'm working on. "
No.
Not this time.
He has already stated that too many times before. Before Dressrosa. Before Wano. You already waited way too long. Even for someone as patient as you, it's too much. " I'm tired," you confess, the voice which with emotions. "It can't keep going like this. Why am I always the second choice for you?"
Maybe it's because you always give everything you have to him. Supporting him, regardless of what. You had to break his armor several times to get closer to him, despite his distant and detached personality. The moment he finally confessed about his past was beautiful. The nights you spend together, simply talking about your lives, goals, and dreams, are rooted in your heart. A warm memory of two souls bonding and finding comfort through words and confession. Now, everything is just fading away. And you hate how angry and confused you sound, when Law is just as calm as always. Does he even notice what you just said? You can't tell.
"You don't even answer me. Such a shame to be named heart pirates when you don't even have one." you explodes, shouting the words.
"I don’t think it's the right time to talk about this because you're too emotional y/n-ya. "
"And you're too logical!"
The saying goes that opposites attract, but you're not so certain anymore. 
"I'm just so fucking done!" Now, you're screaming and Law growls, "Shh, don't yell, everyone will hear us," he says, caring way too much about his privacy. "I don't care! Just say something! " He looks so tired, with his usual dark rings under his eyes. "Leave me or not, but do something because I'm so done with this shit. I'm the only one trying to communicate and make things right!"
You slam the door of his small office with anger and tears prickling at the corner of your eyes. He doesn't follow you. He remains confined, choking on his own pride. He probably thinks you will be back soon, as always after an argument. But not this time. You're really done. It's his time to make some efforts, to prove that he actually cares about you and your relationship. 
At the diner, he doesn't show up. During the night either. It's not easy to distance yourself from him. But you will not change your mind. After three days, he finally starts to realize that you will not come after him. 
Why aren't you bringing him his morning coffee, massaging his tensed shoulders, and spreading your stupid concealer under his eyes? All those small actions you always do to lighten his burden as a captain… damn, he never felt that lonely. But what can he do now? How can he fix the mess he made?
The Polar Tang's ambiance is as cold as a winter island after a week. Everybody noticed the huge tensions between you and the Law. The captain is irritable, barking orders at everyone and looking for you everywhere, but you're just hiding from him. He's exhausted by this situation. He's starting to understand what you said: he misses you, even if you're here. 
It's becoming too much for his tortured soul after 10 straight days. The pain in his heart is unbearable. In reality, he feels like a child he never had the chance to be: terrified, lost and alone. Are you going to leave him too? Why is everyone around him always dying or disappearing? Is it always his fault? Now, he feels miserable, almost crying alone in his office. He can't even focus when Bepo asks him to bandage a small wound he just made. His hair is messy because he runs his hands through it too much. Law sighs heavily. His nerves completely fading away as he struggles to bandage Bepo. Why the hell is he crying over a poor bandage? 
He's exhausted. Physically and mentally. An he misses you. Deeply. He understands everything you said that day. He understands how you have felt lately and it's a horrible sensation. You didn't deserve the way he pushed you away from everything. He misses the warmth of your body, the passion in your sweet kisses, and your hands redrawing his chest tattoo. 
He needs to make things right. 
In this situation, what Corazon would have done? 
Probably running after you after slamming the door, falling miserably on the ground, and crying pathetically with an ugly nose running. Law frowns. But at this point, he's so desperate that he wouldn't mind crawling and begging for your forgiveness. He stumbles out of his office, tired, and looks for you. How can you hide on such a small ship? "Have you seen y/n?" He asks to everyone and they all they say no. Are they lying? Where have you gone? Did something happen to you? Poor Law is so stressed right now, more than usual. He spent the entire day looking for you and failed. Is it too late? Have you just left? Without a goodbye? No. It can't be. He needs to see, kiss, and hug you. Just one more time, just one last time. Even if feels that he doesn't deserve you. 
He slams the door of the bedroom you used to share with brutal force. As he takes off his hat before laying on the mattress, he sighs and an idea crosses his mind. But he's afraid. Because if his plan is not working, it will mean you have already left the Polar Tang. For good. Hands shaking, he finally moves his fingers and mutters, 'room, shambles'. Your plushie disappears as you suddenly pop on the bed. 
Oh, thank god, you didn't leave. "Y/n-ya" he whispers, his voice thick with emotions. 
Your heart is pounding as you remain silent. Ten days. Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin helped you hide from Law for ten days straight. Giving him the silent treatment was a difficult choice and all you can hope for is that it actually worked. "I'm not a man of many words," he confesses. "But I do love you. I'm sorry for always pushing you away, please forgive me. It's just that... I need to keep you out of trouble. If you don't know my current plan for now, it's safer. " For someone as quiet as him, he's talking a lot. But still not enough."I think I've taken you for granted, but I want to be there for you. Please, let me stay by your side. Don't leave me, please." He almost begs, his voice thick with emotions. 
His gentle touch on your cheek almost melts you.  You missed those beautiful, smooth hands on your face. You get closer, enjoying the warm heat heating up your chest. "You're so beautiful", he whispers. He looks so genuinely innocent, discovering again all the small details of your face. What has he done to be so fortunate in love? Does he only deserve you? You can tell that he's not even sure as he waits for your answer, trying to hide the slight shaking in his movements. 
"I love you, Law." You gently assure him by kissing the tattoos on his fingers. As the solace embraces his heart, Law is melting inside.
He didn't lose you. It's not too late. "I know you're not good at words, so I won't ask for much. What you just said is already perfect. Thank you for confessing to me. I know it's hard for you to open up." you reassure him. "What should I do, y/n-ya? How can I show you that I care about you? I won't repeat this situation twice." His eyes are now shining with pure determination. "Just the small things you used to do before. Sleeping with me, giving me a hello and a goodnight kiss... you remember that? Our routines." Law nods, probably taking mental note. "I have to kiss you twenty times." You raise an eyebrow confusedly. "Why?" 
He shrugs. "It's been ten days since I last saw you. And I'm supposed to kiss you all mornings and evenings." He's so serious right now, you can't help but burst out laughing. He's not joking at all. God, you love this nerd so much. The confusion on his face is even more hilarious. " I love you," you sigh between two laughs. "Why are you laughing? Am I wrong?" That man is so smart, cold and logical, but with love… he's just a mess. A beautiful mess. The one you will always love and cherish. "You're so adorable."
And now, he's blushing. How dare you call him adorable? "Just come here," he sighs, grabs your hips, and sits you on his laps. His lips are sealed to yours, and he kisses you. Twenty times. And he's counting. Every kiss is filled with passion, love, unspoken emotions, and sweet promises. 
And, as always when you're together in the same bed, you end up redrawing the tattoos on his chest. As you gently caress his skin, he falls asleep, the tension finally leaving his face. You cradle your head against his chest. His heart is slowly beating, and he looks so calm right now. 
You are here with him, and his tortured mind can finally get some sleep.
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prythianpages · 1 month
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I Can't Pretend | Eris x Reader
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summary: After your sudden disappearance, Eris takes it upon himself to find you. When he does, he breaks down and can no longer hide his feelings for you.
warning: angst, suggestiveness, smut (p in v, loss of virginity); this one is kind of a rollercoaster of emotions and the longest imagine of this series (at 6K words)
a/n: you can find the masterlist to this series here or read this as a stand alone imagine (: all you have to know is that reader is engaged to Eris's brother and in the part right before this one, reader and Sawyer got threatened by Beron. this piece here is brought to you by Tom Odell's Can't Pretend.
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“There will be a bedding ceremony at your wedding.”
“You just marked your death sentence.”
Your body grows cold, muscles tensing once again. The tears running down your face feel endless as you stare at the door closing behind the High Lord. When it finally shuts, the sound feels like a sentence in itself, locking you into those promises. Bedding ceremony. Death sentence. The words repeat themselves over and over inside your head like a haunting melody. 
You’re going to be watched as you're forced to be intimate with Sawyer. Then, you’re going to die. You want to run…but where to?
A whimper drags you from your thoughts, directing your attention back to the male lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood. Your fate is sealed and cannot be helped. But you can at least help him.
You hardly recognize him as you kneel beside him and help him sit up. Blood trickles from his face and every exposed inch of his pale skin is littered with open wounds that make bile rise in your throat. You can also sense all the broken bones in his body, something urging you inside to mend them.
“Let me help you,” you whisper, unable to hide the tremor in your voice and your hands. Slowly, you bring your hands to his face, grimacing at the lack of warmth.
A choked, rattled sound escapes from Sawyer. He instinctively leans in to your touch, welcoming the surprising wave of relief that comes with it. It’s as if something deep inside you is calling to him, telling him that you can fix him.
“Did you…did you mean it?” He croaks out.
You don’t have to ask to know what he means. “Yes.”
Sawyer’s pained expression softens for a brief moment. “Sometimes…” he begins and as you blink away your tears, you catch the way he averts his gaze, focusing on the splatters of his own blood that taint the marble floor. “Sometimes, I wish the Cauldron had made me different too...”
“The Cauldron makes no mistakes,” you assure him, your voice steadying with every breath. “It doesn't matter who you love. All that matters is that you love strongly and freely. I sense you have a good heart…which I’m coming to find is a rare thing in a place like this.”
“I thought I was an asshole.” There’s a subtle hint of regret in his tone.
“Yes,” you say with a small exhale. “I’m afraid that you still are… An asshole with a good heart.”
And for the first time since you met him, a faint ghost of a smile graces Sawyer's lips as he looks back at you. 
You continue to help heal Sawyer, the same way you’ve done for others in the past. The cuts on his face close as your fingers brush against them, the swelling of his face goes down and the broken bones begin to mend. It’s like a miracle. There’s no trace of any injury left behind other than the blood that has not yet dried.
It’s strange for it to be quiet between you both. You’ve grown accustomed to the insults thrown your way in his presence and even the look of disgust that usually mars his features when looking at you. But all you see is the bewilderment in his face.
As the weight of silence threatens to consume you, you find yourself humming to deter the thoughts lingering in your mind. It’s a familiar melody, one your mother would gently sing whenever your injuries and the sickness that would often befall you begged for relief. Just as it did in those tender moments, the melody you hum washes over you, bringing an immediate sense of comfort. 
The warmth returns to your veins and Sawyer, too, senses the soothing energy as it radiates from your touch. His sharp aches dulls into a distant memory. “I didn’t know you were a healer,” he says quietly and then realizes how little he knows about you. He has an inkling that his older brother knows more. “Are you from Dawn Court?”
“My mother was. I think I inherited it from her side,” you reply, helping him to his feet.
As the two of you stand, the door slams open, causing you to involuntary flinch. To your relief, it is Lady Raelynn and not her fearsome husband. Her breaths are quick and shallow and eyes full of concern.
“Oh thank the Cauldron,” she breathes, rushing toward her son. She assesses him for injuries, not caring over the blood that stains her hands as she softly touches his face. “Let’s get you cleaned up. The healer is already waiting in my quarters and I’ve had my maid prepare some tea to soothe your ails.”
The way she speaks leaves an unsettling feeling in your stomach, as it gives away that situations such as this occur with such frequency. Lady Raelynn then turns to you, gaze dipping down toward your hands. They’re stained with Sawyer’s blood.  “The both of you,” she adds as emphasis.
Her hand reaches for yours but you take a step back, suddenly feeling sick. She had already included you in the disconcerting routine. The urge to run comes over you again as Beron’s words resurface in your mind. Is this what your life will become? A routine of suffering and torture until death harshly claims you.
“I’m okay,” you say, taking a deep breath. It’s a lie and you all know it but they don’t push you further. They share a glance filled with understanding, deepening your revulsion. You think you’re going to throw up. “I–I think I need to rest.”
“Of course,” Lady Raelynn nods, a deep frown settling upon her face. “Please allow one of my maids to escort you back to your room.”
**
Eris has grown to know fear over the centuries. It held him in its grip, bringing forth tears and whispering sweet nightmares into his ears until there was no trace of hope left behind. But this feeling surging through his veins and creeping into his heart is much, much worse. Like a fear he’s never known before.
You’re not in your room. You’re not in the gardens. You’re not in the library. 
All air has left his lungs and he feels like he can’t breathe until he finds you. There’s one more place within the Forest house he’s yet to check. He’s racing toward it, his pace reflecting the erratic rhythm of his heart. He knows he should tread carefully but you’re flooding him with your emotions through the bond, pushing away all rational thoughts from his mind. 
The doors to Lady Raelynn’s quarters slam open. His eyes are drinking in the room like a man deprived of water, chest rising and falling rapidly.
“Y/n,” your name is spilling from his lips in a choked breath. “Where is she?”
His gaze lands upon Sawyer, who sits on the couch and then to his mother, who sits right next to him. You’re not here either. His heightened senses take in the bloody cloth in his mother’s hands–not your blood–and then, the somber expression on Sawyer’s face. Across from them, three teacups rest on the small table, the faint scent of chamomile wafting over to him.
Suddenly, Eris is livid. His gaze darkens and he’s rushing toward his younger brother. Hands roughly grasp onto the front of Sawyer’s shirt, forcing the younger male to rise to his feet. Flames tickle around his throat, tightening with every second.
“What did you do?” Eris seethes. It’s more of a demand than a question.
“Eris!”
“Answer me,” Eris nearly growls, his eyes mirroring the flames tightening around Sawyer’s neck. “Or I swear to the Cauldron, I’ll–”
“Eris!” His mother calls out again. 
This time, she’s successful. She steps in between her sons, a hand at Eris’s chest and she can feel the frantic beating of his heart. The flames around Sawyer’s throat loosen their grip but only a little.
“Your brother has endured enough blows today.”
“He looks perfectly fine to me,” Eris retorts, amber eyes taking note of the lack of injuries on him. Despite his mother’s words, he’s inclined to give him one. One that will remain and act as a reminder to never cross him. He already knows that whatever happened, was Sawyer’s fault.
“Yes,” Lady Raelynn begins, voice heavy with caution. She knows Eris will find out what happened one way or another and though it fills her with dread to be the harbinger of bad news, she rather her son hear it from her. “Because y/n healed him.”
The sound of your name brings Eris back down and the flames around Sawyer’s throat extinguish. He looks at his mother, silently urging her to go on.
“Your father caught the ear of the rumors circulating in court and well…well, he called for a bedding ceremony.”
Sawyer swallows thickly at the reminder. He casts his head down, overwhelmed by Eris’s heated gaze that is directly solely on him now. A realization hits him then and slowly, he lifts his head. “You care for her, don’t you? All this time…,” his voice trails off.
Eris falters. He shakes his head, a mix of horror and panic tainting his delicate features. “I told you–”
“Then you should know,” Sawyer interrupts him, lips pressing into a tight line before speaking again. “Father plans to kill her after the wedding.”
Flames erupt from Eris’s fingertips, itching to wrap around Sawyer’s throat once more. He warned his brother not to be a fool. To be more careful because this was not just a matter of life or death for Sawyer but for you as well. Eris just needed more time to help you and he fears Sawyer just deprived him of it.
A firm push from Lady Raelynn stops him from raising his hands. “Eris, your brother is not the enemy,” she reminds him, tone pleading with him to hear her. “Y/n is in her room. Go to her. She needs you.”
Eris's fiery temper flickers, dissolving into the familiar grip of anxiety that had driven him to this chamber. He takes a step back and Lady Raelynn’s hand drops back to her side. “She’s not in her room.”
It’s now Lady Raelynn’s turn to panic. “What do you mean she isn’t? My maid personally escorted her there. She even helped draw her a bath.”
“She’s gone.”
Sawyer lets a curse under his breath, a shiver running down his spine. “One more mishap,” he murmurs, fear swirling in his eyes. He falls onto the couch, sinking into the cushion with dread. “One more mishap and father warned…,” his eyebrows furrow, not being able to finish the threat Beron had made to the both of you and Eris feels his heart at his throat.
“She couldn’t have gone far.” Lady Raelynn speaks but it does nothing to reassure Eris.
“When I bring her back,” Eris says, voice steady with determination because he will find you. He takes another step back, toward the doors. One hand grasps for the knob while the other points a finger at Sawyer.  “Then, I’ll deal with you.”
Sawyer says nothing but Lady Raelynn nods, urging him to go. “We’ll cover for you,” she assures him. “Please be careful.”
Eris leaves without another word, the doors closing shut behind him. 
“He loves her.” Sawyer's words are tinged with sympathy and bitter amusement. A humorless chuckle escapes from him and he looks toward his mother. Her gaze remains fixed on the doors of her room, where Eris had left just moments ago, as she gives a silent prayer to the Cauldron.
“Are we cursed? To love those we cannot have?”
“I’m afraid you all have inherited it from me,” Lady Raelynn confesses softly, her voice carrying the weight of years of unspoken longing, clouding her eyes with regret and sorrow.  
**
Leaves crunch beneath Eris's boots as he makes his way toward the stables, the crisp autumn air biting at his cheeks. His face dons his usual mask but his heart is still racing. He would much rather take his hounds in his quest to find you but the risk of raising suspicion held him back. It’s not uncommon for him to ride during these hours of the day and it’d give him a better vantage on covering as much ground as he can as opposed to winnowing. 
The sound of a high-pitched whinny echoes through the air as Eris approaches, drawing his attention. His gaze settles upon the stablemen, their focus fixed upon a solitary stall.
“Lord Eris,” one of them greets, bowing his head in respect. “Do you wish to ride? I can ready your horse. Just give me a moment.”
Eris offers no response as he strides purposefully toward the stablemen, his curiosity piqued by the source of the anxious sounds. The stableman follows his gaze, his expression troubled. It’s your horse, Maximus. The white stallion throws his head back, pawing at the ground with such force that the dirt rises in swirling clouds.
“He’s been restless all morning, my Lord.”
“I’ll take him,” Eris finally speaks, his gaze lingering on the horse. From where he stands,he can sense the tension rippling through Maximus’s powerful frame. It reminds him of the way his hounds act when they sense something is wrong. “Perhaps, a ride will soothe him.”
The stableman’s eyes widen in alarm. “I would advise against it, Lord Eris. This one has a temper that only Lady Y/n can soothe. He’s bitten us before.”
Eris lets out a quiet amused huff, undeterred. “I’ll saddle him myself,” he says and it’s as if your horse understands for it tilts his head to look directly at Eris, a silent exchange passing between them.
The stableman simply nods, reluctantly handing the necessary equipment to prepare your horse. As Eris steps into the stall, Maximus steps back with a deep and heavy exhale. “It’s okay. I’m y/n’s…y/n’s friend,” Eris reassures though the word ‘friend’ rolls off his tongue awkwardly.
As he utters your name, Maximus's body relaxes slightly, mirroring the calm that had settled over Eris earlier in his mother’s quarters. He admires the way Maximus’s eyes soften slightly, betraying his deep love for you. Animals are the true definition of unconditional love, he thinks. However, there’s a flicker of doubt in the horse's eyes at the mention of the word "friend," as if he could sense something more. It makes Eris wonder if your horse can see past the glamor he meticulously placed over himself and you.
Maximus doesn’t move when Eris takes another step forward. He pats his neck softly, running his fingers down the silky white strands of Maximus’s mane. The white stallion’s head lowers and ears relax under the gentle touch.
“Can you take me to her?”
Maximus taps one of his hooves in response and Eris smiles.
**
Eris can feel your bond growing stronger and stronger as Maximus gallops, taking both of them deeper into Autumn’s forest. Around them, trees adorned with golden leaves blur into a whirl of color. The sound of thundering hooves fills the air. He pulls on the reins and the white stallion immediately obeys, coming to a gradual stop. 
“Stay here.” Eris commands as he dismounts.
Maximus lets out a noise in protest but does not fight when Eris secures him to a nearby tree. He looks around the forest, allowing his senses to guide him through the labyrinth of trees. He feels a sharp tug against his ribcage, prompting his head to turn right. How did he not think of it sooner?
Eris quietly makes his way toward the clearing ahead, where the meadow he often frequents is. The canopy of the tall oak trees filter the golden sunlight into a mesmerizing dance of light and shadow. A kaleidoscope of wildflowers blooms along the edges, their petals kissed by the wind. His senses sharpen with anticipation. It’s as if a taut string is pulling him inexorably closer to you. 
He’s flooded with relief when he finally spots you but it is short lived as he takes in your appearance. Relief is quickly replaced by a terrible sinking feeling that he feels in his very core.
The river is a distant murmur as you face it, your back to him. The shifting patterns of light and shadow play across your form, casting you in muted hues. You’re dressed in his clothes, the same ones he had given you when the two of you snuck out. The ruffled long sleeves do nothing to protect you from the biting Autumn winds and he frowns as you curl into yourself, arms wrapped tightly around your waist. You seem smaller somehow, more vulnerable. He’s already taking his coat off as he approaches you.
“Angel,” he calls out softly, placing his coat over your shoulders, but you don’t move. You don’t even react…are you even breathing?
Eris steps around you, his eyes pools of amber concern and as he comes to stand in front of you, his heart clenches. Your eyes are bloodshot and puffy. Tears stain your rosy cheeks, making his knees weak. Yet it's the emptiness in your gaze and the absence of radiance in your expression that shatters his heart. This court has broken you beyond repair. You, who always shined so bright, who lit up his world, were losing your spark. This is what he had been trying to prevent and he failed. 
His hands cup your face in a tender caress, internally wincing at the lack of warmth he feels. Drawing upon his powers, he channels heat into his hands. As the warmth envelops you, he watches as your distant gaze gradually returns to him.
A pained expression clouds his features, tears stinging at his own eyes. He knows the answer, recognizes it the more he looks at you. He knows because you wear the same expression he does after facing Beron’s temper. But he needs to hear it. His brows furrow, barely able to contain the anger that had been left simmering. Anger not directed at you but at his father. 
“Did he…did he hurt you?”
“I’m okay.” 
There’s a roughness to your voice he’s never heard before that kills him inside. You lean in to his touch, tilting your head slightly to the right. Consequently, the same cheek Beron had struck earlier. Eris frowns. There’s no mark on your pretty features, no trace of harm of any kind. Though, he knows better now. 
So he asks again. Differently and more carefully, this time. He’s trying very hard to tame the fire raging through his veins for your sake, worrying that he’d scare you if he allows you even the slightest glimpse of it.
“Did he touch you?”
You shift your head, attempting to escape his hold. But Eris doesn’t allow it and takes your silence as an answer. He swallows thickly. His father had laid his hands on you. Fiery tongues surge from the earth, swirling around you both and painting the air with bright hues of amber and scarlet. How dare he?  His father is going to pay for this, Eris will make sure of it. He’s going to return the pain Beron inflicted on you tenfold. He’s going to ki—
“I’m okay.” You try again and it’s as if you’re also trying to convince yourself.
Eris leans his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering shut. “I’m so sorry, angel,” he murmurs, voice thick with longing and regret. He had been so careful about leaving Autumn since your arrival and the one time he has to leave it, is when you find yourself in trouble.
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”
“You’re here now.”
He feels the softness of your hand against one of his, prompting his eyes to open. His amber orbs glisten with a haunting luminosity as quiet tears escape them. “I put you in this situation,” he confesses quietly.
Confusion flashes onto your face, your eyes searching for answers and he feels his heart at his throat. “I arranged your marriage, knowing the life I would be damning you to. This is all my fault.”
“You couldn’t have known. You didn’t know me then and my father…this marriage would’ve happened any–”
“Don’t.” He interrupts you, inhaling sharply, voice strained with emotion. He doesn’t think you’d be defending him if you knew what he did to your father just hours ago.  “Don’t defend me. I don’t deserve it.” 
And then he reluctantly drops his hands, stepping away from you, needing to put some distance between you both.
“I don’t deserve you.” 
“Eris–” You take a step closer but he holds out a hand, flames erupting from the ground right between the both of you.
“No. You don’t understand, Angel. I’ve tried to fight it but I can’t contend. You’ve pierced through every defense of mine and now… I’m exhausted.I can’t pretend anymore.” Eris bows his head, flames dancing around him with heightened intensity. He collapses to his knees, surrendering to the turmoil within.
“You awaken sensations within me that I’ve never known. Sensations that both exhilarate and terrify me. If you–if you only knew the depths of my capabilities, the lengths I would go for you, the sacrifices I’ve already made...”
He can already imagine the heartbroken look on your face when you find out the truth. That he, your mate, the very being that should bring you nothing but joy and shower you in love brought harm upon your family. You’re one and only remaining family member. It did not matter if your father was a monster because either way, you adored him. Or rather, the idea of him. 
Eris should tell you the truths he learned. How your father poisoned you for years, treating you not as his daughter but as a mere experiment instead. He only read snippets here and there from the journal, read just enough to be sickened with the horrors purposely inflicted upon you. 
And Eris will tell you. He knows he needs to. But you’re breaking and he can feel you on the verge of shattering apart this very moment. If he tells you now, he fears–
“Eris.”
Your voice pulls him out of his racing thoughts and he winces. As if it physically pains him to hear the sweet way you say his name. “Don’t say my name like that, angel,” he nearly pleads. You don’t know what you do to him.
The flames pulse around him with the rhythm of his heart. He decides at that moment that you can hate him all you want after. As long as you’re alive, as long as your radiance returns to you, that’s all that matters. He just desperately needs you to be you again.
“Just tell me, angel, and I’ll do it,” Eris says, closing his eyes as he tries to steady his breath. “Tell me what to do to make you feel better? I can’t bear the sight of seeing you like this so please tell me.”
**
His words strike a nerve in you, the devotion in them unfamiliar to you. How cruel, you think, tears pooling at your eyes for an entirely different reason. You’re marrying the wrong Vanserra. You take a step forward, the flames of Eris’s fire threatening to swallow you whole.
 “You care for me?”
“Devastatingly so.”
Another step forward. Your heart hammers in your chest. The flames lick at your feet and you should fear them. But you don’t. Because it’s Eris and though you shouldn’t, you want him. Not Sawyer or anyone else. You want Eris. All of him. 
“You’d really do anything for me?”
Eris lets out a sound–a mixture of an exhale and laugh. It’s humorless and singed with disbelief as if he can’t believe you’re really asking him that after he just confessed it all to you. But you need to hear it again.
“I would traverse all over Prythian, surmount every obstacle, and brave the fiercest storms just to see the light of your smile. All you have to do is ask.”
And then you’re taking that last step, braving yourself against the searing heat that dances in the air to reach him. Because if you’re going to die, you need him to know. You need him to know the truth that lingers in your heart. 
That he’s your golden hour, painting your world in shades of warmth and love, but also your midnight hour, where secret desires and dreams are whispered under a canopy of stars and now…
Now, he’s everything in between. You’re every waking thought and the last before you sleep. You need him to know that you burn for him. Ardently. Your breath catches and Eris’s eyes snap open, widening as his fire reaches out to embrace you. 
But it doesn’t burn you. 
The two of you look at each other in awe before you’re falling to your knees in front of him, the flames enfolding around you in a tender caress. Neither of you say a word. Your hands reach out to cup his face, coaxing his gaze to you. He doesn’t stop you this time. Not even as you lean in and press your lips against his. He should pull away but he doesn’t. Instead, his lips move against yours, kissing the warmth right back into you, giving a piece of light from him to you.
You pull away, just enough to speak but still close enough to feel the warmth of his mouth. “And if I ask you to take me in a way only a lover could, what then?”
He looks at you with such an intensity it sets you alight but then he’s averting his gaze and there’s an ache in your chest.  “Please,” you whisper, eyes glistening with tears. 
You always dreamed of what your wedding would be like, who you would marry. A part of you always knew that it would be arranged. Still, you foolishly hoped that in light of the arrangement, love would blossom. That your husband would hold affection toward you and learn to love you. That on your first night together, he’d be gentle and caring.
But your dream was morphing into something darker. Your husband would never love you in the way you desire. He hated the very thought of you and though you caught a mere glimpse of the caring male underneath the harsh exterior earlier, it did nothing to soothe you. It can’t be Sawyer. 
The night you dreamed of was becoming a nightmare. The last thread of hope was hanging precariously, threatened by the sharp blade of anxiety and fear. You can’t lose the last part you hold dear to Sawyer. You can’t let Beron win. They don’t deserve to forever hold this over you.
You look at Eris, your last thread of hope. “Your father called for a bedding ceremony and I don’t want that to be my first time. I don’t want Sawyer to…to…”
**
“I know, angel,” Eris murmurs, not letting you finish your sentence. He wipes at your tears and then places his hands over yours, which remain on his face. He gives a gentle kiss to your lips but his body is tense. The thought of you having to endure the horrors of a forced bedding ceremony. Your body on display for others to see, the emotional and physical pain it will bring upon you, the—
Eris has to force himself out of those dark thoughts, the bond in his chest roaring with a fierce and protective anger. He kisses you again. This time, on your forehead. “It’s not going to happen.”
“But your father–”
The fear in your eyes pains him. He pulls you closer, nose brushing against yours as he forces you to look into his eyes. “Do you trust me?”
“With my whole heart.”
“Then trust me when I say that no one will touch you against your will again.”
“Even though your father, the High Lord, has condemned me to death?”
“No one,” he repeats, voice firm as he pulls you close to him. One arm wraps itself around your waist while the other cradles your head to his chest. He brushes his fingers through your hair, basking in the sweet scent of rose it brings forth.
Silence envelops you both and you allow it to embrace you, the same way Eris does. In his arms, you are safe, you are warm. It is just the two of you…against the world.
“Tell me what you’re thinking of,” Eris speaks softly.
“I’m thinking…” your voice trails off as you shift in his hold to face him. His hands fall to your waist and you make yourself comfortable in his lap, placing a knee on either side of him. “What if it's your touch I will?”
Heat and desire pour through the bond, filling his veins.
“Your eyes I dream of,” you whisper, threading your fingers through his red hair and tilting his head up to look into his eyes. When you lean in to delicately kiss the corners of his eyes, he shudders beneath you. 
“Your heart I want.”
Your hand trails down his neck in a tender caress, stopping at his chest. Right over the organ that beats for you. The golden threads stir under your touch and he swallows thickly, eyes locked onto you. He wonders if you can feel it–the way the bond is singing madly like it wants to be heard. With a sudden boldness, he tugs on it.
His eyes widen when your body seems to react, lurching forward slightly. Your movements still, hand lingering on his chest and he watches you with bated breath. You felt it…but your end of the bond remains quiet. Still waiting to unravel, only giving him a glimpse of the emotions stirring within you. 
Something that both uneases and relieves him. He wants to know exactly what you’re feeling–if your emotions resonate with the same fervor that consumes him. He wants you to understand the depth of his devotion to you. However, amidst his yearning, your oblivion toward the bond allows him to mask the subtle shift in your scent. A silent sacrifice that weighs heavy upon his heart but a burden he is glad to carry if it means he can safeguard your innocent heart from the cunning foxes at court.
Your hand continues its path downwards, tracing a tantalizing path toward his. His heart stirs with a flutter of anticipation. He can feel the unspoken yearning in your touch. With trembling fingers, he intertwines his hand with yours, each brush of your skin igniting a wildfire in him that grows brighter as you bring his hand to your lips. 
 “Your hand in marriage I long for.” You press a soft kiss upon the fourth finger of his left hand and his resolve is faltering. Teetering on the edge of surrender…
The flames surrounding you both catch on the ring on your fourth finger, the very one claimed by his brother. A forced and loveless claim. Yet still, regretfully, not him. A stark reminder that you are not his and perhaps, will never be. The simple golden band glistens precariously as if acknowledging his thoughts. He should stop you.
 “Y/n–”
“Your touch I crave,” you continue, your longing turning into a desperate need as you kiss him. Harder, with more urgency, sending a delightful sensation down his spine that makes his cock twitch. 
As your hips roll against his, Eris abruptly pulls away. The hands at your waist tighten, keeping you still and holding on to that last wall of defense. He wants you but he shouldn’t.
Your brows furrow and Eris hates the hurt that flashes in your eyes. The hope that deflates. “I’m sorry.Have I misinterpreted your—““
“I want you too,” he interrupts, needing to reassure you. He licks his lips, gaze flickering to your own, already missing their taste, before lifting back up.  “Gods, do I want you but not like this.”
He gestures to the autumn meadow around you both. The meadow that is painted in hues of crimson and gold and alive with the whisper of falling leaves and dancing flames. It’s beautiful. The epitome of Autumn. But it’s no proper place to have you. 
“You deserve better. You deserve for your first time to be special.”
“It does not matter where we are. As long as it’s with you, it is special. Please,” your bottom lip trembles and Eris leans in, gently kissing it steady. “I want you to be my first. I don’t want it to be Sawyer or anyone else. I want it to be you.”
“We don’t have to do this now. There will be another time,” Eris utters but his voice lacks strength. The promise in his words hangs in the air delicately like a wisp of smoke that is already dissipating into uncertainty. 
“Time,” you echo quietly, a wistful shadow casting over your features.  “What if we don’t have time? What if–what if this moment is all we have left?”
Eris wants to respond but the words catch in his throat. There’s nothing he can say to reassure you there. He knows you’re aware of the impending dangers that wait for you back at court. His father will be watching you closely now, security will be tighter. Eris will have to be more careful, tread lighter and with higher caution. 
There’s only a little less than two weeks away from your marriage to Sawyer. The three of you are running out of the time and there is still so much to do. The stolen moments with you will have to cease and he senses you’re aware of this truth as well. This may be the very last one between you both.
If you thought Autumn was a terrible place before, then you’re about to learn that it’s much, much worse. It’s a living hell. And Eris curses the Cauldron for its cruelty.  
Angels like you shouldn’t live in hell.
“So much has been taken from me and I fear there is very little choice I have remaining in this world. But this,” you pause, placing his hand over your racing heart, an urgent plea echoing in the rapid rise and fall beneath his touch. “This is mine to give and it wants you. I want to give it to you before it’s too late…”
Eris’s entire body tenses, muscles tightening with restraint.
“And if your heart feels the same, then I need you,” your voice trembles under the weight of your emotions and suddenly, Eris feels like he can’t breathe. “Like fire craves the kiss of air–”
No one has ever looked at him with such devotion, spoken to him with such passion. It’s overwhelming and threatening to drown him in its intensity. While his mind is screaming for him to run away, his heart wills for him to stay. 
“–like flowers thirst for the tender caress of rain, like–”
Eris’s lips crash onto yours. His kiss is searing yet gentle and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and he groans into your mouth. He carefully guides you back onto the soft bed of fallen leaves and golden grass, cradling the back of your head with one hand while the other remains over your heart. 
He kisses you until you’re both breathless and forced to pull apart. His body hovers over yours, amber eyes drinking you in. He tenderly kisses the remnants of your tears away, reveling in the way you softly sigh and lips begin to curve upwards into a smile.
“I love you, Eris.”
The three words hit Eris so hard there’s a crack in the last wall of defense. He’s terrified to move, not wanting to leave this moment but also in fear that if he does, that last wall will crumble entirely. 
“Me? Are you sure?” 
“I’ve never been more unequivocally sure.”
Eris studies you intently, captivated by every subtle shift in your expression. There’s nothing but unwavering love and desire reflecting back at him with such luminous intensity that it threatens to blind him. He can no longer think properly. Every reservation, every thought telling him to stop is slipping through his fingers.
All he can think about is you and how you love him. You love him! You love him! You love him!
And when he meets your eyes again, it’s too late. 
The damage has already been done. That last wall of defense is crumbling at a devastating speed. A soft flush creeps up his cheeks, betraying the vulnerability that seeps through his every pore in surrender.
“Is this what you really want?” 
“Yes,” you breathe, eyes fluttering shut in anticipation as his nose brushes softly along your neck. “Even if it’s just for this moment, let me be entirely yours. Every beat of my heart. Every breath. Take it all.”
“You’re going to be the death of me,” Eris murmurs against your neck, inhaling sharply and when the honeyed scent of your arousal greets him, he whimpers.
**
Gentle is not a word Eris Vanserra would use to describe himself. That is, until he met you. His mate. The one who dismantled the walls he spent centuries constructing around his heart in months with little effort. In your presence, lies a burning desire to soften the edges of his demeanor. To be the gentle male worthy of your affection. 
You wield a power over him unlike any other, leaving him utterly captivated and surrendering to all rationality. He should tell you he feels the same but he is beyond words. How can mere words capture the magnitude of his devotion?
So when you’re asking–begging–to be his, he can’t bring himself to say no. Not when this may be the very last moment shared between you both. Not when you’re giving him the perfect opportunity to show you the depth of his feelings instead.
Everything fades into insignificance. Nothing matters but this moment. With a touch as light as the brush of butterfly wings, his hands explore your body. Tentatively, as if scared to burn you with his burgeoning desire. Always asking for permission–”is this okay?” “yes”–before venturing further, before discarding your clothes–his clothes. 
Flames continue to dance around you both, a protective circle and barrier against the cold winds. Each flicker of light casts intricate shadows upon your faces, your bodies. Eris pulls away just enough to admire you. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, leaning down and capturing your lips for what feels like the hundredth time. But it will never be enough. “So, so beautiful.”
You’re melting like wax beneath every touch and then his lips are tracing down the paths his hands have forged. Gentle and somehow still urgent. His mouth lingers on the swell of your breasts, sucking and eliciting the prettiest sounds from you. 
“If it’s too much, you tell me,” he utters, holding your gaze as he rests his chin on your stomach. He can sense your nerves. He’s nervous too. He wants this to be perfect for you. As perfect as it can be, given your circumstances.
“We can stop whenever you want.”
You nod but it’s not enough for Eris. “Words, angel,” he says, pressing a tender kiss to your stomach. “I need your words.”
“I’ll tell you,” you breathe, body arching into him. “I promise.”
Eris presses another kiss to your stomach before continuing his path downwards, to where he can feel you aching for him the most. He’s breathing so hard and kissing every inch of your skin, setting you ablaze. His nose brushes against the apex of your thighs and he’s flooded with your arousal. It’s overwhelming all his senses and he’s pulsing with need to have a taste. 
Still, he pauses to look up at you through his long eyelashes.
“Please,” is all you manage to say.
Eris moans in anticipation, drinking in your otherworldly beauty, the same way he wishes to devour you. One hand rests on your hip while the other reaches for yours. His fingers intertwine themselves with yours and when you squeeze them, he lowers his mouth and finally has a taste.
You throw your head back with a choked cry. “Eris!”
Eris groans, lapping and working his tongue against you. He’s never loved his name more. “You taste absolutely divine,” he breathes, losing himself in you. If this is how you taste, his cock throbs painfully as he imagines how you’d feel.
You reach your peak soon, crying out his name again. He lifts his head and brings your locked hands to his lips, admiring the look of pure bliss on your face. “Beautiful,” he whispers again, heart swelling with warmth. Overcome with emotion, he dives for your lips and pours them out into his kiss, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. 
The hand not intertwined with yours, caresses against your core, fingers prodding at your entrance. Your mouth parts in a gasp at the intrusion but he eases you through it until you're clenching around his fingers and begging for more.
“Are you sure you still want this?” He can’t help but ask, chest rising and falling rapidly.
“Yes.”
“I’ll go slow,” Eris promises, his amber gaze filled with softness and tenderness. Blush rises to your cheeks and it’s instinctual, the way you look away. He lets out a low sound in disapproval. “Eyes on me, angel.”
When you meet his gaze, his pupils are blown but his gaze remains soft and warm. Your lips curve upwards and he does the same. Both of his hands are locked with yours, resting on either side of your head. He holds your gaze, slowly sinking into your warmth and stilling at the furrow of your brows. He kisses them, allowing you to adjust and wanting to ease any discomfort you may be feeling. 
“You’re doing so well for me, angel,” he encourages, voice strained. The bond in his chest is surging with pride at being your first and with a primal fervor to be the only one who gets to have you like this.
He feels like his heart is going to burst into flames and when he finally sheathes himself inside you, everything catches fire. His mind. His body. His soul. Every muscle, every nerve in his body is coming undone with every thrust. His kisses, though still soft, grow intense. So hot yet so sweet.
Fire consumes him, its vibrant flames igniting not destruction but building something new. Something beautiful. Something heavenly. where hopes and dreams, once thought lost, are resuscitated. The wounds of his heart being mended by you.
His body presses further into yours, mouth pressing feverish kisses down your neck, whispering sweet praises and worshipping you for the divine being you are. Your moans grow louder and you’re clenching around him tighter. “I love you,” your voice is a mere whisper but he hears it loud and clearly and you don’t seem to mind his lack of response. Not when he’s following after you, bodies shuddering as release courses through you both.
Eris pulls you close to his chest, arms tight around you. He can feel your heartbeat. Fast but steadying and in tune with the rhythm of his own. The gentle rise and fall of your chest let him know you’ve fallen asleep. Letting out a sigh in content, he closes his eyes, wanting to bask in this moment longer.
His fingers lightly trace along your back, tracing the four words he couldn’t bring himself to say back to you earlier.
I love you, too.
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a/n: I've never written soft smut before so I hope it was okay. I also hope I was able to convey the desperation between Eris and reader well. I debated a lot on whether keeping the smut or scrapping it. Huge thank you to @stormhearty for helping me out with this part and giving me her input! ily! ❤️
series tag list: @fabulouslyflamboyant5 @fxckmiup @stormhearty @skyesayshi @sfhsgrad-blog @crazylokonugget @evergreenlark @secretlyhers @mybestfriendmademe @ib525, @96jnie, @glitterypirateduck @thatsassyhufflepuff @acourtofbatboydreams, @mal-adaptive-dreams, @dandelionfairyyy, @queerqueenlynn, @circe143
general tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria
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kitorin · 8 months
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"I need you to be completely honest with me right now."
"What's wrong, Rin?" Another page turns, your eyes remain glued to the novel, head resting on his thighs as his fingers occasionally poke your cheek.
"Am I ugly?"
The question makes you choke on your spit; Itoshi Rin, the very man who had you infatuated at first glance with his prominent eye lashes and his wintry gaze, just asked if he was hideous.
"Who the hell said that?" The surprise makes you sit up, and Rin barely dodges collision with your head. It's common knowledge that he couldn't care less about his appearance, skin and hair care were simply for hygiene, which was all that mattered to him. There's anger heating up at the thought of someone breaking his indifference, and it reveals itself through your speech
"No one, Yukimiya's photographer came for a photo shoot. Everything went well until I noticed the lines on my face."
"Lines?"
He nods "They weren't there before." His fingers ghost over an area near his cheeks. "Apparently they're not supposed to be there." Rin reaches into his pocket, unlocking it and showing you a photo.
It's a photo of him, Hiori and Yukimiya, the three of them grinning whilst being covered in designer brands. Nothing seemed wrong, it's an adorable photo; revealing Rin's typically concealed dimples, eyes squinting with joy, the kind of smile he uses when he's genuinely happy, instead of the polite and subtle one he gives to interviewers.
"I don't see an issue."
"Here." He zooms into his face. "Those things." His lithe fingers point towards the area between the sides of his nose and the corners of his mouth. Smile lines.
"Fans said they shouldn't be there. So, am I ugly now?"
There's a legitimate confusion laced with his tone, and you silently thank how he decided to talk about it with you before believing in whatever comments were left on Instagram.
"First, whatever fans say have no credibility, they're just people on the internet. Second." You climb into his lap again, cupping his cheeks and once again getting lost in the depths of his beryl irises. "Those are called smile lines. You're not ugly for having them, and never will be." His aquamarine eyes gaze back, as you brush a strand of hair out of his face.
"Even if they weren't there before?"
"Of course. They're a sign you're living a life filled with joy and happiness. And that is more beautiful than any beauty standard out there, and so are you." Your thumbs trace the creases, the entirety of your palms can feel the warmth of his cheeks, savouring how the softness contrasts the callousness of your hands. "You're beautiful, you always have been and always will be. Don't listen to anyone who says otherwise."
Your lips plant a kiss on his forehead, and you soon return to admiring every crevice of his face. From the viridescent azure irises and the eyelashes which adorn them, how surprisingly soft and squishy his cheeks are (of course only you'll ever know that).
"Thank you for putting them there then."
"Hm?"
"I never had reasons to smile. Not until I met you."
Anyone can tell Itoshi Rin seldom expresses emotion, let alone joy; but you had always assumed he kept it to himself rather than believe nothing was worth his jubilation.
His hands reach for yours, fingers ghosting over them. "Thank you for brightening my life, for being the reason why I'm able to live so happily." Gently, his hand pries one of yours off his face, placing a kiss on it. "I love you."
Rin smiles; it's soft, exposing his dimples and smile lines, cheeks matching his lips in colour. You're pretty sure you're just as flushed.
A quick peck to his lips (he still tastes like the persimmon haichuu you were eating together earlier) and you swear he somehow grows redder. "Does this mean I'm allowed to have the last ice cream?"
"You're supposed to say it back dumbass. And fuck no, that's mine." Despite his callous language he picks you up into a cradle carry, placing you down besides him, soon making his way to the front door. "What flavours do you want? And what kind and which brand?"
"Awww, I love you too, I want the vanilla and melon soft serve by the way."
Rin scoffs. "Of course you only say it back when I'm doing you a favour." But he's pocketing his wallet, and about to unlock the door to leave. "You're annoying."
"Yet you still love me."
"Are you sure? Because I'm buying every flavour of yukimidaifuku and you're not getting any. Milky candy too." You don't miss the smirk on his face at the sight of your disbelief.
"I hate you."
"Love you too darlin'."
[In the end "you're not getting any" was a lie]
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Tagging: @yuzurins
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kamiversee · 2 months
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➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏
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✧.* CHAPTER 19 || The Halt of Something New
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[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?
[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, fluff, & angst.
[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 6.1k
[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.
[ [ chapters mlist } ]
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——YOU'RE AN IDIOT.
Did you really think that everything was going to be all sunshine and rainbows just because you have a crush on a guy who treats you right?
How humorous it is for you to have been worried about Choso using you as if that's not exactly what you're doing to him. Sure, you wish things were different and that you weren't technically using him but, it's the truth-- you are using the man.
Sleeping with Choso was a requirement for you. His name was just something you needed to cross off the list, a box in which needed to be checked.
And let's not forget, you have to go on and sleep with Sukuna sooner or later. Someone who Choso's related to, according to Gojo.
How the fuck are you going to pull that off?
By now, it's been approximately two months since you've been blackmailed. Going down your accomplishments so far, out of a total of seven men, Gojo included, you've got the majority of the list completed.
After that one night with Choso, you found it extremely difficult to move on to the next guy. You weren't expecting it to be this hard but, you just couldn't leave the man alone.
You spend all of your free time texting him or on the phone with him and whenever your schedules align with one another, the two of you are within each other's company.
Those rendezvous that you had with Geto came to a stop and you ended up sleeping with Choso more than anyone else.
From your apartment, to his car, to his apartment, to his art studio, and even to a vacant janitor's closet-- you and Choso have been fucking like rabbits. The guy couldn't get enough of you.
Sex aside, he couldn't get enough of everything about you. If Gojo was right about anything; Choso did in fact grow attached to you.
Thing is, you couldn't differentiate whether or not he was attached because of the sex or because of you in general. Either way, it wasn't good.
The two of you hung out often and you only got to know him more and more and more. Choso's a wonderful person and you view him as your way out of the dark and deep hole Gojo's dragged you down into.
Even so, you can't help but feel like something about Choso is... off.
His care for you often overshines it but you simply cannot ignore how odd some of his actions or phrases to you are. For example; after the first time you slept with him and he left, how did he get back into your apartment?
You never asked him about it but you do wonder sometimes. Did he take a key before he left? Or did he simply leave your door unlocked so that he could get back in? Either way, it's odd.
Then there are those prolonged stares of his. You can feel the way he drinks in every little detail on your face. At first, you thought it was an artistic thing, thinking that maybe he admires you so intently because he sees beauty.
But over time, it really begins to feel as though Choso's inspecting you, printing your facial expressions and smallest gestures in his brain.
These moments of intimate study over your features give you wavering fluctuates of emotions in your chest. Sometimes you enjoy his expressive eyes and other times you don't.
Even so, none of it makes you like him any less, it just makes you feel like the man sees right through you. Choso makes you feel like a piece of glass, especially when you're lying to him.
As much as you can, you avoid talking about anything or anyone regarding the list when you're around him but the few times you slip up, you swear Choso is able to see through all the bullshit. That's what makes you nervous.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
A wise person once said; ignorance is bliss. Such a phase is nothing more than true for a woman such as yourself.
You believe you know a lot about Choso. You also believe you know a lot about Gojo.
But the truth is, you don't. There's a long twisted and fucked up path ahead for you but your ignorance is what keeps you in a blissful state, shielding you from the twisted truths of the feelings being harbored for you.
Honestly, it isn't difficult for one to acknowledge Choso's obvious crush on you. However, you fail to see the depths of said crush.
In the time you spend getting to know him and being around him, you end up being very transparent with him, to which he reciprocates every time. At one point you admit to Choso that you've slept with others within the time you've known him, sparing the details of who (of course).
His response to that information was that there was another girl he had relations with named Yuki but he stopped fooling around with her around the same time he started having sex with you. It was kinda messy and somewhere deep down you think you were a bit jealous but you had no right to feel that way.
And while jealousy is the topic of narration; Choso subtly lets his show every now and then.
He's aware that you and he aren't in a relationship but that never stops him from pulling your body close to his when he sees someone staring at you, or giving someone a death stare as they speak to you, or even telling someone to fuck off whenever they try hitting on you.
Is it wrong of him to do so? Technically, yes. You're not his girlfriend so he has no right. But, do you stop him from doing any of those things? No. Do you secretly enjoy seeing him act this way? Perhaps.
Even so, Choso does try to keep his jealousy over the small things at an all-time low. The last thing he wanted you to see was how far his care for you really went.
And he had it under so much control until he saw the negative effect a specific person (Gojo) has on you...
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
In all honesty, you had forgotten about the list for a while as Choso's presence and your feelings for him consumed you. At least, until Gojo texted you.
Currently, you sit in the passenger seat of Choso's car, your fingers aggressively tapping at your phone screen as your mood sours from merely one text from your blackmailer.
The vehicle is parked not too far from your apartment complex as Choso had driven you home from a day spent at the museum. He said he needed to go there for research for one of his classes and invited you along but you can't deny the fact that the whole thing felt like a date.
Even so, Choso's in the driver's seat, his ears perking up at the sound of your fingers tapping so quickly and aggravatedly across your cell phone. The man can't help the burning curiosity he feels as he glances over to you.
With tensed brows, your jaw clearly clenched, and scoff after scoff leaving you in reaction to whatever's on your phone-- Choso finds it physically impossible not to feel the need to question you.
"Are you alright over there, love?" He asks carefully after hearing your sixth sigh in a row.
You don't even look up from your phone, too engrossed in Gojo's stupid concerns for you, "Mhm, I'm fine."
"Liar." Choso points out.
A frustrated little groan leaves your lips, "I'm fine, Choso." You repeat, your voice stern.
The man tilts his head, his eyes burning into the side of your face.
He stares for a while, having no response to your repeated lie to him. After a few minutes of simply watching you text back and forth with someone, Choso scoffs and tears his eyes off you.
He pulls out his phone and tries to distract himself from you and whoever's got your attention but it's no use. Scrolling through social media is impossible to focus on when all he hears is the annoyed sounds you keep letting out and the way you dryly laugh in anger at something.
The male doesn't even know why he's so hyper-focused on you like this. More than usual, Choso finds himself picking up on every little thing about you.
There's even this feeling he gets in his chest when he sees your attention elsewhere. He wonders if it's jealousy but it couldn't possibly be that when the two of you aren't in a relationship.
Reluctantly, his eyes find their way back to you again. His vision fixates on your hands, attentively watching each letter you tap on the screen.
Choso's able to put together the words you're typing out just from watching your fingers alone, gathering the message you typed that reads; 'Don't give me that bullshit about just wanting to check up on me. I already told you not to text me like this unless it's about the-' Your fingers had stopped moving.
Both of your eyes went wide as you received a sudden call, cutting off your rant. Choso doesn't mean to be nosy like this and it's almost instinctive the way his eyes search for who's calling you, only for that curious gaze of his to be obstructed by you quickly turning your phone off and dropping the device.
A deep groan leaves your lips as your phone slips slightly in between your thighs. You let it vibrate against your skin, completely ignoring Gojo's call.
You then look over at Choso and his eyes fly up to your face.
It's awkward the way you two stare at one another. He's wondering if he seems far too nosy having been all up in your phone and you're worried that he may have seen the messages you've typed and who just called you.
"Are you uh... not gonna pick that up?" Choso questions. Evident in his tone is this carefulness, as if his words were walking on eggshells.
"No." You answer curtly, "I'm actually about to block him."
"Him?" Choso repeats thoughtlessly.
The two of you freeze.
Choso didn't mean to let that slip. His bottom lip draws into his mouth in regret, having wanted to avoid feeling jealous over nothing. In his mind, he has no reason to exhibit such emotions when you're not his girlfriend-- a fact he constantly has to repeat to himself.
The male looks away from you after saying that, visibly letting his thoughts take over his words.
"Yes Choso, him." You reply, your tone cold.
You don't want to take your frustrations out on your crush but then again, the last thing you have time for is jealousy.
Your frosty gaze peers into the side of his face as he avoids looking at you after slipping up like that.
He figures he's already let one question loose so why not continue expressing himself? "Mind if I ask who's 'him'?" Choso questions.
Your brows push together and you open your mouth to reply but after a second of thought, your mouth shuts. You'd nearly said something out of aggravation and you had to hold your tongue to prevent any negative vibes between you and Choso.
With a sigh, you look away from the man. "Do you remember the asshole I told you about weeks ago?" You ask, tone soft but still holding your stress.
Of course he remembers, how could he not? You told him about said asshole during your first phone call with him, an event in which Choso could never forget.
"The one that made you cry?" Choso asks for confirmation, his voice dry as he recalls the unnamed man you always refer to as an asshole.
You hum, "Yeah, him."
Choso steadily looks over to you, his eyes sinking down to the buzzing phone in your lap, "I see." He replies. He then lifts his eyes to your face that's turned away from him, "Still don't like him, huh?"
"I told you before, I hate him." You explain.
"Then why're you just now about to block him?" Choso questions, his tone growing more dull.
You scoff, "I'm not in the best position to where I can actually block him."
"Why not?"
"Because there are things he and I still have to work out." You explain vaguely.
Choso blinks, his eyes darkening as his mood dips into something annoyed. "Is he an ex of yours or something?" The man asks you.
You turn your head to Choso with pinched brows and a scrunched-up face, "What? No."
"Mhm, right okay so, what do you still have to work out with him that prevents you from blocking him?"
You sigh heavily and flash a clearly annoyed smile, "Choso, while I appreciate your concern for me, I really don't feel like explaining right now."
Your crush grits his teeth and visibly bites back a response to that. There's a mix of genuine care and jealousy brimming inside him.
"Right. My bad," Choso resorts to sympathy. "Just know, if you need advice, I'm right here." He says with an emphasizing scoff.
For the first time since you've met him, Choso is aggravated. You're unsure of why he's upset when you have the right to be private about the context of a man who's upsetting you.
You're not obligated to explain anything to Choso. He knows that.
Though, that's not why he's upset. As he turns his head away from you and looks out his window in thought, Choso feels displeased at how some guy has you angered and the way you won't open up to him.
There's this need you feel within you to calm Choso down so, almost instinctively, you reach a hand over to his side and place it on his thigh-- watching the way his body stills under your touch.
Choso glances down at your hand and raises a brow.
You swallow, "I know you're right here and I know you can give me advice but..." Your hand slips upward along his leg in a comforting manner, "This isn't something you can help me with."
The sound of him clearing his throat as you touch him is heard. Choso rolls his hips a little, trying to comfort himself under your touch while your hand trails up.
"How uh... How do you know?" Choso hums, just barely taking his gaze away from your moving hand.
Your eyes meet his, "Cause' it's uhm... it's personal." You explain, grinning slightly.
You then lift your hand from his leg, to which he sighs, and grab a light hold of his chin. Your thumb rubs over his smooth skin and Choso just melts into your touch.
"Oh," He says, nodding slightly, "I get it..."
"Yeah, sorry-"
"Oi," Choso cuts off as he raises his hand to yours. His eyes are serious while he shifts to kiss your palm, "What'd I tell you about that?"
You chuckle, "About what? Apologizing?"
"Mhm. There's nothing for you to be sorry about." He tells you, "I get it, it's personal."
"It's a habit," You explain simply, nearly apologizing again.
"I've noticed."
A smile spreads across your face, your mood lifting, "Have you?"
"Course' I have," Choso says.
He then moves your hand, placing it back down on his thigh with his own resting on top. His fingers gently caress your smaller ones, eyes dropping down to the sight and his expression relaxing as he does so.
The tension in the car begins to dissipate as you and Choso find solace in one another's touch. The weight of the situation lifts and you feel a little less uneasy.
The warmth of Choso's hand on yours is comforting, providing you with a moment of relaxation. He never fails to change your mood.
Choso looks up to your face, "I notice everything about you, y'know."
Your smile widens, "Do you?"
"Yeah. I try to remember as much as I can." He tells you.
You raise a brow, "Why?"
"I don't call you my muse for no reason." Choso claims, "When I say that, I mean it artistically too."
Too, you repeat mentally. He's confirming that calling you his muse has always been meant in a romantic sense previously.
"Really? So do you have more paintings of me hidden somewhere or something?" You ask jokingly.
He laughs slightly, almost as if there may be some truth to what you just said. "Somethin' like that, yeah."
"Wait seriously?" You ask, your face brightening up at the thought.
"Yes. I find myself accidentally drawing your face quite often." Choso hums, looking back down to your connected hands as the tips of his ears redden.
You lean closer to him slightly, "Aw really??"
He clears his throat, "Yes, really. Do you uh... You wanna see?"
"Of course I do!" You beam.
He can't help but stammer as your excited expression is revealed to him. The way seeing you happy has him melting immediately is almost embarrassing.
Chuckling slightly, Choso nods his head to his bag on the floor in between your legs, "I have a sketchbook in there you can look through."
You don't hesitate to move for the item, quickly removing your hand from his thigh and diving it down to the bag on the floor. You unzip it and rapidly spot the book he's referring to, taking hold of the item and pulling it out.
As you do so, your phone keeps buzzing in your lap but every notification is ignored.
With a smile on your face, you hastily open the sketchbook and the first drawing you see is a picture of someone that makes your smile flicker. It's difficult to control your facial expression when the first image shown to you looks like a younger version of Sukuna without face tattoos.
You bat your eyelashes at it and open your mouth to say something but Choso makes up for your confusion by speaking first, "That's my little brother," He explains.
"Yuji, right?" You ask in return, having remembered the name from a previous conversation with Choso.
Any chance he's gotten to talk to you about his brothers, he's taken. Well, with an exception for Sukuna. The only reason you know they're related is because of Gojo, which concerns you since Choso always finds a way to talk about his siblings to you.
A big smile spreads across Choso's face, "Yeah, you remember his name?"
"Yep." You reply proudly, "And your other brother's names are Kechizu and Eso, right?"
Oh, the man's heart is simply fluttering at the fact that you remember his brothers' names. "Y-Yeah." Choso stammers, flashing you a gushing smile.
You flip to the next page of the sketchbook and see two more drawings of Yuji but at different angles. "I think I know who your favorite is..." You say teasingly.
Choso chuckles, "I don't have a favorite."
"These drawings say otherwise..." You hum as you continue to flip through the next few pages.
Other images of Yuji and Choso's other siblings appear and you can't help but smile at each one. Eventually, you get to a page where the drawings go from portraits to anatomy; more specifically, hands.
You notice that each hand seems to be his own, all in different positions and angles. Your eyes skim page after page until you come across a set of hands that appear more feminine than the rest.
A narrowed gaze inspects the paper a bit closer and you can't help but notice how the hands on the page resemble your own.
"Cho..." You call out, glancing over to the man, "Are these my hands?"
There's a light shade of pink on his face but his eyes are down on the sketchbook you're holding. "Mhm." Choso hums quietly.
His timidness makes you smile before you continue. Steadily, the focus of his sketches transitions back to portraits and you soon come across a drawing of you. You can't help but cheese at the sketch-- Choso draws your features so beautifully.
The male leans toward you a little, "Like it?" He asks.
Your smile doesn't waver for even a second, "Like it? Choso, I love the way you draw me."
Choso finds himself smiling at you, his heart simply pounding in his chest. "R-Really? Wow, thanks...? I'm happy you like it so much."
"Love, Choso," You correct, turning to look at him, "I love it."
He holds eye contact with you but his face goes red as you utter those words to him, "They're uh, they're not even that good though..."
"They are to me." You argue, looking back down to the page, "I look so pretty in your eyes."
"You're pretty in everyone's eyes, princess." Choso complements.
You chuckle, "That's cute but no, I'm not. Thank you though, I think you capture my face better than my phone, honestly."
"I disagree," Choso says.
You look at him. "Why?"
"Cause' I could illustrate your face a thousand times over but..." His gaze softens as he thinks for a second, "Something always feels like it's missing."
Your brows raise a little, "Like what?"
"I dunno, you? It's like they look like you but they don't feel like you and I'm struggling to express that feeling on paper." He explains, "Which is why I ended up choosing graphic design and not fine arts, I'd be losing my mind if my career was based on this..."
You laugh at him, "Yeah, I get it."
After which, you start flipping through page after page again, beginning to see what the man meant when he said he draws you often. You're pretty sure you've seen yourself with almost every facial expression and every angle by the time you reach the end of the sketchbook.
"Seems like you express the feeling of me just fine on paper," You point out, "Well, at least to me."
"Nah," Choso denies, raising his hand to your chin and forcing you to face him. His eyes scan your face, "Every drawing in there is missing something."
"If you say so," You chuckle.
The male pulls you toward him, weighing himself to you at the same time as his thumb moves to outline your mouth, "For example; your lips." Choso sighs.
You blink, "They looked fine to me."
He shakes his head, "When I draw them, they lack warmth."
"I mean... they're sketches Choso, I'm not sure how-"
"Your eyes," Choso unintentionally cuts off, still tracing your lips, "When I draw them, it feels like you're actually looking at me."
A snicker leaves you, "So are you supposed to feel me kissing you when you draw my lips?" You ask in a joking manner.
Choso smiles, "I wish but no, that's not what I'm trying to feel." He then shrugs, "I just want to draw how looking at your lips makes me feel."
"I'm not sure I understand, Cho." You sigh.
"Every time I look at your lips, I wanna kiss you. Every time I look into your eyes, I feel... vulnerable. In my sketches, I feel that same vulnerability as when I draw your eyes but then I feel nothing when I draw your lips," Choso explains in full.
"I see..."
"That's why I said they lack warmth. The sketches don't feel like you."
You nod understandingly, "I get what you mean now."
"Mhm. And y'know I think it's because I study your eyes more than your lips," Choso continues, his thumb pulling your bottom lip down. He then licks his lips, "Maybe if we made out more I'd be able to draw your lips better."
Your eyes widen for a moment, then you start laughing. "Choso, you did not just use your art as an excuse to kiss me."
He gives you a toothy smile, "Oh no, I definitely did."
You commend him for his excuse by leaning in toward him and tilting your head, slowly connecting your lips with his. Choso struggles to control his smile whilst you kiss him and his hands steadily go to your cheeks, cupping your face in his palms.
It's now you struggling not to smile as both of you kiss each other passionately.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
You wished every day could've stayed like that.
Such a time of bliss was something you'd been longing for amid your stressful troubles. To stay in Choso's arms for hours on end was something you'd plead for if it meant you could feel happy for some time.
Of course, all good things must come to an unfortunate end. And in your case, it wasn't an end but more of a... pause.
About one more week was the most you got to enjoy happiness with Choso. From your point of view, you could just not tell Gojo that you'd already slept with Choso, which prolonged the unlimited time you have for the list.
And it was wonderful not having to move on from Choso but, it did lead to a stronger attachment growing between the two of you.
It happened on a Friday afternoon. Something you stupidly didn't think about. A question you hadn't had an answer to, which led you down a path of regrettable decisions.
It was all fine at first. Shoko wasn't home, like always, and Choso was resting his head comfortably on your chest. His body lay slightly on top of yours and his arms were wrapped around you comfortably.
The two of you were watching TV together, almost like a couple in love. Whenever you laughed at something on the screen, Choso would smile at the sound and snuggle the side of his face into you.
At some point, an emotional scene came up on the TV and the words made the man on top of you begin to think. There was a couple arguing in the show about their relationship going public or something and damn the way it made Choso wonder.
For you, it was unexpected. The man shifted slightly, taking his eyes off the TV and looking around your room in thought.
After a moment, Choso spoke. "Hey, can I ask you something?" He requests.
Your eyebrows raise slightly as you look down at the man lying on you, "Depends," You tease, "What kinda' question is it?"
He chuckles, lightly but nervously. "It's uhm..." He moves around to glance up at you for only a few seconds, then he looks off to the side. "It's about us."
You bat your eyelashes at him and your heart freezes in your chest, "A-About us?"
"Mhm." He hums.
"Alright," You swallow, "What about us?"
Choso goes quiet. It's clear he's debating something, his eyes trail over to your face once more, and those sangria-colored eyes of his fill with uncertainty.
You return a curious stare to him before raising your hand to his face. Your thumb gently skims across the tattoo running along the bridge of his nose. Choso's hair is loose, dark strands messily flowing down and just barely reaching his shoulders.
Your small touch to his face provides him with this sudden sense of comfort, making him grin. "What is it, Cho?" You ask, your voice soft.
"What uh... No, I..." He trails off as he tries to find the right way to word his question. Choso swallows hard and shuts his eyes, "Okay. Do you like me?"
You chuckle at his sudden question, "I thought I made it pretty obvious..."
He sighs, "I'm being serious. Like, do you have feelings for me?"
"Uhm," You chew on your lower lip in thought.
Choso's eyes open and he takes in your expression, "Be honest with me, princess."
You smile, "Why are you asking me this all of a sudden?"
"Cause' I have feelings for you," Choso admits bluntly.
Your eyes go wide as if you didn't already know that. "O-Oh." You chirp.
"So," He sighs again, feeling as your thumb continues the gentle trace over his tattoo, "I wanted to know if you feel the same."
"I do," You whisper, seeing no way of avoiding this conversation.
Choso nods, "Yeah, I know." He then chuckles, "I just wanted to hear you say it."
You pout, "This isn't how I planned on confessing..."
"Welcome to my world," Choso hums teasingly. "Anyways, that wasn't my main question..."
"Oh?" Anxiety returns to your nerves again.
He stares up into your eyes, "See, I uh, I like what we have going on right now, I think..."
"You think?"
"Yeah, I like spending time with you, I like laughing with you, smiling with you..." His voice lowers and he glances off to the side, "I like fucking you," He murmurs softly before looking at you again, "I like it all, honestly."
"Okay... Where are you going with this Cho?" You question, your eyes narrowing a little.
He swallows, "Well... Do you like what we have going on?"
You're quick to nod, "Of course."
"Right so..." Choso bites his lower lip for a second, then releases it, "Is this all you want?"
You blink. "What uh... What do you mean?"
"I mean," The man shifts, pulling his face from your touch and propping himself up over you with his elbows, "There's no... label on us."
"Okay..." You trail off, worried about where this is going.
Choso sighs heavily, "How long are we going to be like this?"
"I-I don't know..."
"Don't you want to be something more?" Choso questions.
"I do," You hum, "But..."
His brows furrow and he tilts his head slightly, "But what?"
"Not..." Your voice lowers and you look away from him, "Not right now..."
He blinks, "Okay, but... can I know why?"
You shrug sheepishly, "I like what we have right now."
"I do too," Choso claims. "But, I'd also like it if we were... y'know..."
"If we were what?" You ask.
"Together." He answers straightforwardly.
Ah, here's what Gojo warned you about.
You chuckle slightly to try and ease the growing tension, "We are-"
"Officially." The man cuts off.
You look at him with pleading eyes, "Choso, we-"
"Publically." He cuts off again, his expression full of seriousness.
"So, what, you wanna date?" You ask.
Choso blinks, "Yes."
Your heart starts caving in. "T-This is an interesting way to ask me out, y'know..." You tease, again trying to ease the tension.
It's no use though, Choso's not in the mood to joke about this topic. He voices out your name in a low tone, making your body freeze beneath him.
"I'm not joking." Choso tells you, his eyes intimidating, "I wanna be yours."
Fuck, those words almost made you smile. Under any other predicament, you'd say yes in a heartbeat. But, you can't date Choso and finish the list at the same time.
You swallow hard and look away from him nervously, "Ch-Choso, I-"
"And I want people to know that I'm yours," He expresses. "Yes, I like what we have now but the unknown of it all... it bothers me."
"Unknown? Choso, we know what we have-"
"Do we?" He scoffs.
Your brows pinch together, "Yes?"
"I don't." He claims, "I mean, there's no title to it. I just can't help but wonder... What..." He sighs heavily and shuts his eyes again, "This is so cliche but, what are we?"
And there it was. The question you struggle to answer. It's a damn good question because, honestly, what are you two??
Choso lifts himself up some more before sitting up, "Are we fuck-buddies? Is that what this is?"
"N-No, we're-"
"Is this some kinda' situationship?" Choso asks further with a scoff, he seems upset now. "Cause' y'know, I'm just really confused. We hang out like friends one day, fuck like lovers another, and then..." He trails off, shrugging instead as he doesn't know what to say.
You move to sit up too. "I... Choso, I didn't realize you wanted to put a title on this..."
He narrows his eyes at you, "I didn't... at first. But then I found myself feeling weird when people stare at you whenever we go out or annoyed when your attention is elsewhere a-and... I can't say anything about this weird feeling because we're not in a relationship so..." Choso explains.
"Feeling weird? You mean jealousy??" You question further.
"Yes. That's exactly what it is, jealousy. I get jealous because of a lot of things and there's nothing I can do about it because we're just..." He pauses, then shrugs annoyed. "I don't even know."
You take a deep breath and keep your voice gentle, "So that's why you're upset, because you get jealous over things when you feel like we shouldn't and because you don't know what we are?"
"Yeah, pretty much," Choso tells you.
"Okay so-"
"Do you want me?" Choso cuts off, the question pouring out of him faster than he intends.
Your voice gets caught in your throat, "I... Of course-"
Choso moves again, his hands placed at the sides of your legs and his face coming closer to yours, "Then have me." He whispers passionately, "If you want me, have me.”
"I can't..." You murmur.
His gaze switches focus back and forth between your left and right eye, "But you can." He argues, moving to take one of your hands and hold it against his chest, "I'm all yours, I just need you to claim me."
You frown at the needs prodding at your insides. You want nothing more than to do such a thing but you can't.
Choso inches his face closer, his head tipping to the side and his lips nearing yours, "Tell me I'm yours," He whispers, now moving your hand to his cheek, "Let me be your boyfriend."
You inhale heavily, your breath shaking as you do so. "Choso..."
"Yes, princess?"
"I... I can't." You tell him regrettably.
Choso grits his teeth before turning his face to kiss your palm, "Why?" He whispers, "Tell me why we can't be together?"
Your heart throbs in your chest as you come up with the only excuse you can, "I can't do a relationship right now."
A moment of silence envelopes the two of you as Choso sighs into your hand with his eyes shut. He then pulls away slightly for just a second to shake his head in disbelief before planting a kiss on your palm.
"Right..." Choso mumbles into you, "Okay."
He then releases your hand carefully and turns his face to yours. You both meet eyes and he can see all forms of sadness within your gaze. Choso feels his heart waning at the sight.
Slowly, the man shuts his eyes and kisses you. You're not sure why he does it but you definitely don't fight it, kissing him back tenderly.
Choso parts from your lips slightly and whispers against your skin, "Whenever you're ready," He begins, causing you to frown immediately.
"Ch-Choso please-"
"You can call me," He continues, "I'll be there for you in a heartbeat."
You feel as though you're about to cry, "Are you... leaving me?" You whisper.
He nods, "I'm sorry."
Your hands go to his face again, cupping his cheeks in your hold as if to convince him not to, "Choso please, I just..."
His hands move to your wrists and he gives you a soft squeeze, "I can't do uncertainty so," Choso gives you one last peck on the lips, "I gotta go."
Another kiss is placed upon your lips and you try to push yourself further into it so that the connection never ends. Choso's heart feels heavy as his lips pry from yours.
With one final look into your eyes and a somber grin, Choso pulls your hands off his face. He then releases your wrists and moves to get off your bed.
You quietly watch him grab his stuff and move toward your bedroom door.
He then turns back to look at you one last time, "When you're ready for a relationship, I promise I'll be here."
You release a shaky sigh, "Please don't leave."
He frowns, "I can't stay."
"Choso..."
"I'm sorry, baby." He apologizes gently.
You bite your bottom lip, holding back the tears that threaten to pour out of your eyes.
With one last gaze and sigh, Choso tears his eyes off you and walks out.
And there you're left; alone.
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GOJO SATORU ✔︎
GETO SUGURU ✔︎
TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎
KAMO CHOSO ✔︎
NANAMI KENTO ☐
??? SUKUNA ☐
??? NAOYA ☐
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mlist || previous chapt || next chpt
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579 notes · View notes
pshaven · 4 months
Note
how would jay express his jealously when he noticed you with another guy?
jay needs more love on my blog so i'm here to deliver!! (mdni)
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jay thinks he has such a good pokerface when he sees other guys and girls flirting with you. he imagines that he has such a stoic expression, only occasionally sparing you glances to make sure that the person isn't crossing any lines.
but he's the exact opposite.
his jaw is clenched, brows knitting together as his lips are pressed into a tight line. he's clearly angry to anyone in the room, and they know exactly why he is with the way his eyes are only focusing on you and the guy that's starting to get a little too touchy with you.
that's his last straw, pushing himself off the table that he's leaned against to go over to you, a hand placed firmly on your lower waist. he gives the guy an awkward chuckle, the jealousy starting to cloud his thoughts. he doesn't even properly introduce himself as your boyfriend, he just pinches the side of your hip and you yelp, meeting his cold-stoned, narrow eyes.
you think he's kinda cute like this. it's not like jay has any problem or issue expressing his emotion and love for you, but it's rare to see him get to worked up around you since you're often his safe place to relax. you grin and giggle at him, looking at the guy that was previously flirting with you.
you reach to cup jay's face, pulling him down for a heated kiss that clears up jay's cloudy and jealous mind, melting into your lips. the both of you open your eyes mid-kiss, looking at the guy and he scurries off awkwardly, shaking his head as he walks away.
safe to say that when the both of you get back home, you show him that you belong to him, and only him<3.
"mmph!" you moan into the pillow, arching your back further as jay slides into your slick cunt, a groan escaping his lips. he relishes in the warmth of your pussy sucking him in, his hips starting to move on their own.
"promise you won't entertain those guys anymore?" he hums tauntingly, his chest meeting the arch of your back and you nod into the pillow enthusiastically.
"yes! yes, i promise, promise, jay!" you squeal out as his hips begin to pick up its force and pace, his pelvic bone meeting the flesh of your ass.
but you both know that you'll do it again, if it meant you'd get a good fuck like this again.
or ...
close family childhood bestfriend jay who immediately stands up straighter when you come home and bring someone with you who he's never seen before. you introduce him as your boyfriend, but jay doesn't miss the way the guy next to you give you a weird look when you say that.
he confronts you when the two of you are alone, and you say that he's really just a boy you're talking to, no official labels but you said boyfriend to make things seem less complicated.
and jay doesn't like it one bit. how can someone not commit to you? you are a treasure to behold, and anyone would be blessed to be able to call themselves your partner.
you can already see the thoughts running through jay's head, knowing that he already disapprove of this guy. you sigh, placing a hand comfortingly on his knee, "don't worry about me."
how can he not worry about you? he doesn't want to see his favorite girl get heartbroken by some loser guy who doesn't deserve to make you cry in the long run.
he's immediately possessive of you, claiming the only seat next to you when it comes to dinner time. the boy you brought with you gives you a look, but jay smiles pridefully and engages in conversation with your mother, ignoring your so-called boyfriend.
the two of you get into a fight that same night in your room, your situationship saying that he felt left out of your family and that jay is obviously crushing on you. you both exchange shouts and accusations, and jay is on the other side in the hallway, listening in.
he hears your door click open, the guy walking out and spotting jay standing right in front. jay gives him another grin, waving a little goodbye before saying, "you didn't deserve her, anyway."
670 notes · View notes
taintedtort · 21 days
Note
Hihii...!!! i really love ur HCs and i wanted to ask if you're comfortable with these types of character writing, what r ur headcanons on kenma, kuro, tsuki n maybe suna would act when they're drunk ? like would they be a bit different than their usual self ? sorry to ask a lot but im more curious on ur thoughts on kenma ;; .. write whatever u can, idm ! thank u ehehe have a good one ! >_< <3
" LET'S GET DRUNK! "
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summary. they’re drunk lolz
characters. kenma, kuroo, tsukishima
warnings. afab!reader, drinking/alcohol, post timeskip!!!^^
a/n. yesss i love kenma, many thoughts on him!! he’s my favorite!!! didn’t add suna because i don’t really know his character that well :( added a kenma bonus to make up for it tho!
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KENMA
☆ i think he’d be a sleepy drunk. he's out as soon as his head hits any soft surface— maybe even before! i feel like he also acts grumpier, mumbling complaints when you wake him up and try to move him (he was passed out on your shoulder in the car, you have to get him to bed!)
☆ his face gets kinda pink, like he’s blushing. he’s pale, so it’s more noticeable than it would be on someone else. his eyes get droopy and his face sort of relaxes, so he looks mean and tired.
☆ he stubbles slightly, but he surprisingly manages to maneuver himself pretty well for a drunk person. just don’t ask him to do a cartwheel or anything… he couldn’t even do one of those while sober.
☆ he doesn’t drink often, so he’s a light weight… plus he’s skinny and on the smaller side, so he doesn’t have to drink much to get a buzz. he’s usually responsible though, but sometimes he celebrates too hard (with a bit of a push from kuroo)
☆ he doesn’t get any more talkative, but he’s less filtered that normal. i don’t think he’d be too flirty or mean, but if he got drunk enough he may compliment you a couple times.
BONUS:
☆ the type to get so drunk he forgets who you are. you come find him to pick him up after someone called you, and he’s face down on the table. you nudge him, trying to gently guide him to stand, but he’s immediately swatting you away, grumbling about how he has a girlfriend.
"leave m' alone— got a girlfriend already," he slurs, raising his head to drunkenly glare at you. his eyes narrow further when you laugh.
"kenma… i’m you’re girlfriend," you tell him, always finding it a bit amusing when he gets this drunk. he’s not too much of a hassle though, since he usually knocks right out when you get home and tuck him in.
he's silent for a moment, just staring at you up and down. he wears the same expression he has whenever he buys a new video game, excited and in awe.
"really…?" he asks, a hopeful tone in his voice. now that he’s looking at you… you are really pretty. he really hopes you're his girlfriend.
"yes, really. i’m gonna take you home, okay? cmon," you urge, gently grabbing his arm and helping him stand. he complies this time, his eyebrows raising.
"we live together?" he questions, the situation just getting better and better to him.
"we do," you confirm, another giggle leaving you. it doesn’t really hurt your feelings that he doesn’t remember, you find it more amusing and entertaining than anything.
"… im so lucky," you hear him whisper under his breath, looking at you as you guide him to the car.
KUROO
☆ he'd be a funny drunk i think… a bit of a handful, and is entertaining at first, but eventually gets annoying. his emotions kind of double when he’s intoxicated, and he’s also kind of erratic. really energetic after his first few drinks, but if he’s extra drunk, he’s more emotional.
☆ his eyes get a little watery, but that’s about it. he actually looks more lively while he’s drunk, because he makes more facial expressions.
☆ he can’t stand straight at all, especially if he’s had more than a couple drinks. needs support to walk, otherwise he'll fall. he’s heavy though, and puts majority of his weight on you, so sometimes you end up falling anyway.
☆ he can handle his alcohol pretty well. takes him a few drinks to get a buzz, but he doesn’t usually stop there. mostly drinks to celebrate things, or at parties. never drinks alone, that’s just boring and sad to him.
☆ probably asks you random stupid questions like "what number am i?" or "what animal would i be?" (follows up that second question with "would you still love me if i was that animal?")
☆ i think he’s more talkative, but he speaks faster and his words are kinda jumbled, so it’s hard to understand him sometimes. he gets a lot more sappy, constantly complimenting you and telling you that he loves you (he does that all the time already)
"y're sooo pretty, love you s' much."
TSUKISHIMA
☆ not that much different than when he’s sober, honestly. he gets more mellow, surprisingly, though it might be because alcohol makes him a little sleepy, similar to kenma. he isn’t quick to fall asleep, but he’s not energetic and jumping around.
☆ his face is more relaxed, which makes him look even more intimidating and mean. his eyes get a little red around the edges, but that’s mostly it.
☆ stubbles quite a bit and holds things for support. if you try to help him, he’ll snip and you and complain that he doesn’t need your help to walk. (he does, and eventually gives in and leans on you a bit when he almost falls on his face)
☆ also a lightweight. doesn’t go drinking unless he’s invited, and even then he’s usually the designated driver. on top of that, he hates being hung over, and he hates throwing up, so he rarely gets super drunk. kuroo tries to persuade him sometimes, but the most he gets his a little tipsy.
☆ probably gets into debates with people about certain topics that he likes, arguing with them about facts and opinions. he usually wins. even when he’s drunk, he’s still quick witted.
☆ he fights you on everything, insisting he’s fine and "not drunk" whenever you try to help him. you end up ignoring his complaints and just assist him with changing and getting into bed anyway. he’s asleep pretty quickly, especially if you run his back/scalp.
"i don’t need help— i'm not even that drunk!"
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forever-rogue · 1 year
Note
yayy now that ik you're open to write for joel, i propose smth angsty along the lines of "you came back for me" bc reader and joel got into a really big fight before getting separated. i just want the angstttt pls crush my heart tear it apart then put it back together by ending really fluffy plssss
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AN | The inevitable has arrived - here we are foraying into Joel territory. Enjoy ❤️
Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings | Language
Word Count | 2.4k
Masterlist | Joel, Main
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“You’re really stupid sometimes,” it was an exasperated huff that had your hands on your hips as you looked at him. You didn’t mean it - not really anyway. Joel was probably one of the smartest and most resourceful people you’d ever met. He hung his head with a heavy sigh before turning back to you. His expression was entirely unamused, “so foolish and - and stubborn!”
This got a laugh out of him, a bark of unamused laughter but nonetheless. He crossed his arms over his chest, “I’m stubborn? Have you met yourself? You don’t get what you want and you act like a petulant child!”
“I am not,” you hissed, trying your best not to stomp your foot; you didn’t need to help prove his point any further. Maybe he was a little right…Joel often was. But you also felt like your point was right too. Even if this was the middle of a weird zombie apocalypse you were now living in, you should be able to take some time out for yourself. Especially now that you had a more stable living situation, “it’s always work this and work that with you. We should-”
“We should do what we need to in order to survive,” he cut you off, refusing to meet your eyes. He knew, begrudgingly, that you also weren’t entirely wrong, “that is the most important thing.”
“What about us-”
“There is no us,” he insisted and damn. Those four little words broke your heart more than anything. All this time spent together, getting to know each other both on a physical and emotional level meant nothing to him. You should have known. It was almost funny in a horrible way. The older man refused to look at you and you couldn’t help but think him a coward. Maybe he was right after all - maybe you were just a child, “get that in your head and let’s get this over with. We’re losing daylight.”
He took a few steps forward, dirt and gravel crunching under his boots. You shook your head, more to yourself than anything but didn’t follow him. When Joel didn’t hear your footsteps behind him, he turned around, “I’m not going with you.”
“C’mon,” he insisted, “don’t be like this. It’s dangerous for you to be out here by yourself.”
“Well, how am I ever going to learn to survive solely on my own if I’ve always got you or someone else leading the way?” He was correct in reasoning though. It wasn’t safe for anyone alone. It was also recommended that people go out in pairs for that reason, “just go on and I’ll find my own way back.”
“Stop acting like this,” but you just shook your head and took a step further back, “can you just listen to me for once?”
“Actually, Joel, for once it would be me not listening to you. So…you do whatever it is you need to do, do it. I’ll go back and patiently wait. Then you can come back and tell me what to do,” you offered him a sticky sweet smile before turning on your heel and heading back in the direction from which you came. You took off before Joel could say anything, biting your lip in order to keep from making any extra sounds or letting your tears fall down your cheeks. 
You heard him call after you, your name falling from his lips in an increasingly exasperated tone. You heard him come after you for a few moments, but eventually he stopped, his signature sigh falling from his lips. But eventually he moved on and you continued back towards Jackson. 
Realistically you’d just proved his point by acting in such a childish manner. But you didn’t care, not right now. He’d hurt you, and you didn’t even know if he’d meant to or knew the effect his words were having on you. 
“Dumb, stupid girl,” you groaned at yourself, “had to go and mess everything up. And now you’re going to get yourself lost.”
Admittedly, your sense of direction wasn’t the greatest. But the path you’d taken to get to this point, the point where you’d picked an argument with Joel, had been a fairly linear path. Surely you couldn’t fuck that up.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
And yet…you managed to fuck that right up. 
It was dark and you weren’t back to Jackson yet and you knew that was wrong. It shouldn't have taken so long to get back. You should have been back already. Somewhere along the line you had either taken a wrong turn or missed a turn but you found yourself wandering aimlessly. It was too quiet out here, not even sounds of nighttime creatures reaching your ears. If there were anything out there with you, they’d probably hear you in a heartbeat. You’d just have to hope that there wouldn’t be any runners or stalkers or worse - clickers. You were glad you’d remembered to stash an extra knife in your boot and still had the shotgun slung across your back. You’d never taken one on your own, but you figured you could manage. You were going to have to. 
But you just hoped that you wouldn’t come across everything. You’d just camp out in one of the abandoned buildings you’d found until daybreak and then make your way back. That seemed like the most logical and smart thing to do. 
You went to check the front door of the building and, naturally, it was locked. Luckily there was an open window nearby that you figured you could use to get in. Hopefully that was a good sign that nothing else was able to get in either. You jumped the little bit of distance that you needed in order to climb up, catching your hands on the window sill and pulling yourself up. You managed to get in, but suffered a less than graceful landing as you plopped on the ground. And…managed to roll your ankle in the process. 
“Fuck,” you cried, clutching at your ankle in pain as you tried to stifle your whimper. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you slowly sat up and tried to massage the pain in your ankle away, “shit, damn it. Fuck!”
As soon as the words left your mouth, you slapped a hand over it to try and keep any further sound at bay. You sat still, and listened for a few moments to make sure you didn’t hear anything. After a few tense, still minutes had passed, you relaxed; it didn’t seem like anything was there with you. 
Crawling towards the corner, you made yourself as small as possible, sitting with your back against the concrete wall, and hugging your knees to your chest. Anything to make yourself as small and unimposing as possible. It was probably a stupid idea to sleep, alone and vulnerable, but it had been a long day and you needed some rest. Your eyes grew heavier and heavier and before you knew it you had succumbed to sleep’s siren call.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
By the time your eyes opened up, heavy and dry, it was the morning. Daylight was streaming inside the room and you let out a relieved, but shaky sigh. You’d made it through the night. That in and of itself was a good sign that you’d make it back. It was safer in the light and you might even meet someone from Jackson on the way back. 
As you tried to stand up, you quickly remembered what had happened. The stabbing pain your ankle causing you to yelp as you leaned against the wall, using it to help support yourself. Okay, okay, okay - this was going to be trickier than you thought but you’d be able to get yourself out of there. Your survival instinct was stronger than that.
But before you could do anything or plan anything else you heard it. It was your name being called out in the distance. Gooseflesh erupted all over your skin as you tried to pick out the voice. It came closer and closer and it didn’t take long to figure out who it was. Joel. It made your heart jump before you remembered what had happened. You could just - fuck it. You needed him to survive and while you were stubborn among a whole lot of other things, you were willing to put aside. 
“Joel!” you held onto the sill so tightly that your knuckles were turning white. You poked your head outside and looked around until you found him a short distance away, “Joel.”
He stopped at the sound of your voice, and you could see the evident relief that washed over his features. He jogged over to you, and you offered him a tentative, nervous little smile. He shook his head when he realized that you were safe, running a hand through his dark hair. Joel exhaled slowly before looking at you, a hard glint to his, “do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?”
“I’m fine, thanks,” you rolled your eyes lightly.
“This isn’t a game,” his voice sounded between annoyed, worried, and relieved all at once. He reached over and gently touched your face, his hand resting on your cheek, “you thought you could just go off on your own and find your way back? You couldn’t even do that. I got back and you weren’t there. Do you even know what I thought? I-I…”
“I’m okay,” you promised, putting your hand on top of his and giving it what you hoped was a reassuring little squeeze. He wasn’t looking at you, instead looking up at the blue sky. It was almost funny in a way; if you looked up, staring into the bright blue sky, it almost seemed like nothing was wrong and the world was as it had always been, “look at me, please. Joel.”
“I thought something had happened,” he swallowed the lump in his throat as his eyes met yours. There was a hard edge to them, but they were still soft, “I thought I’d fucking lost you.”
“You came back,” you took his hand in yours, admiring the feeling of his calloused fingers against your surprisingly soft skin, “you came back for me.”
“Of course I did,” he said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, “that was never a question. You should have just come with me and none of this would have happened. You stubborn, foolish girl.”
“You…” it all seemed so trivial and silly now. Now that he was back and had come for you, “I…’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just left. Not with my sense of direction.”
“I’m sorry too,” he admitted and you raised an eyebrow in surprise. That was not what you had been expecting to hear. Joel Miller was a hard man and he didn’t generally didn’t experience situations in which he had to apologize, “I shouldn’t have said the things I did.”
“I shouldn’t have just assumed that you and I were…anything,” your voice dropped as you tried to blink back the tears that threatened to well up, “it was stupid of me and ended up causing both a lot of trouble.”
“You are extremely important to me,” his voice was gentle when it broke the silence that had fallen over the two of you. You couldn’t help the small smile that ticked up the corners of your mouth, “even if I didn’t make it seem like it. We’ll…figure it out, okay? But I want you to know that…I…”
“I know,” you did know. You knew exactly what he was trying to convey, exactly what was going through his mind. It was the same thing you were still scared to say, “me too, Joel.”
He brought your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to your knuckles, “c’mon. Let’s get you back home and we can…go from there.”
“There’s, um…just a small issue with that,” you put on a sheepish smile as Joel looked at you expectantly, “when I found this place last night - the door was locked. I didn’t want to make too much noise so I didn’t try to force it open. Instead, I climbed in through the window.”
“I can get you out of the window-”
“I hurt my ankle.”
“Of course you did.”
“Joel-”
“It’s always something with you,” he tutted at you, but there wasn’t any anger or malice behind the sound, “what am I going to do with you, huh?”
“Keep me around because I keep you on your toes?” you tried and he couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. You looked at him with a gentle smile, “can you help get me out of here?”
“Of course,” he promised, “sprained or broken?”
“I dunno,” you looked at the swollen joint and grimaced, “I think just sprained. But I’m not a doctor so…”
“Kid,” affection laced the nickname that he liked to tease you with. He came closer to the window and held his arms out to you. You quickly wrapped your arms around him, letting him tug you closer to his body before he picked you up and swung you through the window. You thought he would set you down, but he didn’t. Instead he held to you his chest, “you’re okay. I’ve got you.”
“Thank you,” before you could stop yourself you kissed him tenderly on his scruffy cheek, “thank you for coming back for me.”
“I’ll always come back for you,” he promised and you knew he meant it, “always.”
“I know,” you hugged him tightly, “me too. I mean, if the situation were ever reversed. Which I doubt it would be, but you know, the sentiment is there.”
“I know, Kid,” you could feel the laughter vibrating in his chest, “I know."
4K notes · View notes
zmbiesuga · 10 months
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UNLEARN MY HURT — s. kiyoomi x gn!reader
sypnonsis: growing up in a home where lashing out was normal, it's weird to have someone be so patient with you as you unlearn all those toxic behaviors
warnings: mentions of fighting, reader never learned how to properly express themselves (me), sakusa is so loving and patient that it's sickening, hurt/comfort-ish??, established relationship, use of petnames (angel)
notes: i want to preface this by saying, i used my own experience with my toxic household so i'm sorry if it doesn't resonate with everybody, i also wrote this at 5 in the morning so if there're mistakes whoopsies, i'll fix them later
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something people don't realize, is that sakusa kiyoomi is a patient man.
he's patient with atsumu when he's annoying him, he's patient with hinata and bokuto as their rowdiness becomes too overwhelming for him, and he's patient with himself as he takes deep breaths to avoid snapping.
sakusa kiyoomi is in touch with emotions and is open about how he feels. he seems brooding and closed-off, but he's the last person to hesitate to tell someone how they're making him feel.
sakusa kiyoomi is your polar opposite.
it's hard for you to open up about a lot of things, especially anger. it's hard for you to keep it in check, so you push it down. the more you do it, the worse it becomes. which leads to your small irritation becoming full-fledged rage at the simplest of things.
this is something that rings true tonight as you walk through the door to you and omi's shared apartment, pinching the bridge of your nose with closed eyes as you let out a heavy sigh before you hear kiyoomi emerge from the living room.
"hey," he says softly as his eyes look at your figure up and down (that's something else about kiyoomi, he can read people eerily well), he can almost smell the anger radiating off of you, "...you wanna talk about it?"
he walks over to you and puts a comforting hand on your shoulder that you shrug off almost immediately as you walk to the kitchen, where he follows.
after a few minutes of silence as you get yourself a drink, you turn to kiyoomi with furrowed brows, "why don't you ever get mad at me?"
sakusa blinks a few times in confusion before he furrows his own brows, "...what?" he questions in that same soft tone, "you want me to get mad at you...?"
"no," you say firmly, almost in a sneer, "i said, why don't you ever get mad at me."
truth be told, you were yelling at yourself to shut up and stop while you were ahead. ultimately though, you decided to ignore your better conscience as you continued to attempt to push his buttons.
"i mean, if you shrugged my hand off of your shoulder and ignored me, i'd be fuming," you admitted, your voice slowly getting louder, "i just...don't understand why you never scream, why you never get mad at me and take it out on me as a response."
sakusa took a deep breath before he responded calmly, "because what good would that do us, angel?"
your eyes widen slightly as you look at him, searching your brain for an answer, "because..." you mumble as you trail off in useless thought.
you can't actually think of any reason, you just know that's how your parents dealt with things. pushed them away until it got too much to handle, and then snap at each other almost over nothing.
you look away from him with slight embarrassment as you swallow the lump in your throat as sakusa walks over to you, holding your face between his hands.
"it wouldn't do me any good to yell at you, even if i'm irritated with you," he said, "i just find something else to take it out on, like the volleyball court or taking some time alone. something i can do to process how i'm feeling."
you look up at him as your eyes become glossy, placing your own hands on his where they rest against the side of your face.
"angel, i love you, but pushing down how you're feeling isn't healthy," he says in a comforting tone, "and it also isn't healthy to take it out on someone who hasn't done anything. i know emotions are hard, okay? but i need you to understand that i'm here to help you through them and figure out what works best for you."
you looked up at him and nodded as you blinked, a few tears running down your face in the process that sakusa quickly wiped away.
"so how about we go sit down, and you tell me what's actually wrong, okay?" he asked again in a soft tone, a warm smile tugging at his lips.
you nodded again as you took his hand, sitting down on the couch as you prepared to open up.
he was right, emotions are hard, but having someone as patient as sakusa kiyoomi around makes them a little bit easier.
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1K notes · View notes
venuszn · 4 months
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☆ : Open When
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Summary / In which Bada writes you letters to read whenever you miss her presence
Cw / Angst, Fluff, Smut, Dom!Bada, Fem!Reader, Phone sex, ummm probably missed some, MDNI
Wc / 5.3K words
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Open when you’re sad
“Hi princess,
I’m sorry that you’re feeling this way right now and that I'm not there to hold you and tell you that everything will be okay. But I can and will tell you that with the words in this letter. You know that I love you and I will keep saying it till the words dry up my throat.
I wish nothing but happiness for you but I’m also aware that bad days are inevitable and that sadness is a human emotion, which like happiness, you should be allowed to feel in all its entirety. I know it's hard right now, but allow yourself to feel sad. You’re allowed to cry, you're allowed to scream and maybe even throw something (like a pillow or teddy - don't hurt yourself). You’re feeling down and that's ok, you’re human.
I know I always say that you're perfect (to me you are, you’re literally heaven sent you’re my angel) but to the rest of the cruel world perfection isn’t possible and so you shouldn’t be too hard on yourself. I like to remind myself that sadness is an emotion. Its power is not absolute. It will come and it will go making room for other emotions such as relief, happiness, hope . . .
There will always be hope.
You are strong and you can take back control of your emotions. But allow yourself to feel them first, it doesn’t make you weak. It takes a lot of courage to face the raw and uncomfy feelings we have and I know you can do it. Go at your own pace and remember that your feelings are valid and that you are loved.
Especially by me, your loving and maybe a little bit obsessed girlfriend.
Lots of love,
Bada.”
A tear dropped onto the paper. You blinked and quickly wiped your eyes, not realising that your girlfriend's heartfelt expressions had triggered an earthquake of emotions within you. Bada knew that you had a tendency to repress your emotions. She knew that when you were sad you skillfully put on a facade, a mask, and played the ideal role of the happy easy going girlfriend. You didn't want to burden anyone with how you felt. You were used to dealing with it alone and so you always did.
But Bada showed you that it was ok to not always be ok. That you didn’t have to bear it all alone. You weren’t perfect, some days you fell back into old habits and distanced yourself from her as the exhaustion from faking happiness would overwhelm you. But she was always patient and waited for you.
She showed you that you could still be loved even on your bad days.
Sobs thundered in your chest. You gripped the letter as if the words themselves would slip between the cracks of your fingers and drift away into the night. Your face grew hot with tears and you allowed yourself to be. To simply be.
Bada wasn’t here with you right now but you knew her love was.
Open when you miss me
Gentle rays of sun shine through your curtains. It illuminates your skin as it kisses it with its warmth. You sit up and raise a tired hand, attempting to shield your eyes as a loud and unflattering yawn rolls from the back of your mouth. Your hazy eyes drift towards the empty space beside you. If you stare long enough you can still see the outline of her presence, hear the whispers of her slow words thick with sleep as she would pull you closer by the waist and join her lips to yours - the sweetest of good mornings.
But now those mornings were not a reality but a memory.
Mornings like this weren’t foreign to you. It had been a couple months now and you had grown used to waking up alone. You missed Bada and this was the first time you were both spending months apart from each other. You were caught between sadness and pride. Of course you were sad but at the same time you couldn’t help but admire the achievements of your girlfriend. Bada’s popularity had skyrocketed beyond the heavens themselves and many artists and idols were reaching out to her for collaborations and such alike. You had never seen Bada glow the way she did. Joy seemed to radiate from her and your chest could barely contain the swell of your heart as it pumped in pride for her.
That is why you smiled and swallowed the lump in your throat as Bada said she was leaving behind her favourite sweatshirt, “because I know it’s your favourite too”. It is why you insisted on driving Bada to the airport and it is why the both of you held each other a little tighter that day and allowed your lips to linger a second more. Bada knew you were trying to be brave for her but that wasn’t what she wanted.
“I’ll see you real soon. Four months will fly by.” Bada said as she gently rubbed your cheek with her thumb.
“I know it will. Have the best time won’t you ? I mean, you’re touring with an idol. That's amazing.” Your voice betrayed you as a slight quiver slipped through.
Bada’s gaze saddened. “I’ll try. You know I'll miss you right ?”
A sob threatened to rise from your throat and you tried to swallow it once more.
“I’ll miss - I’ll miss you more . . .” You choked out.
Bada wrapped her arms around you and brought you to her chest, your arms locked around her sides and you swore you would need to be pried away from her. Her head rested comfortably on top of yours and she squeezed you gently.
“I’ve left you something.”
You pull back and look up at her, confusion knitted your brows. “What do you mean you’ve left me something ?”
“It’s under the bed in a shoebox. And no, it's not shoes.” She smiled down at you.
When you got back to your shared apartment you searched under the bed and immediately found the shoebox. You scoff lightly with a small smile, not believing that you didn’t notice it earlier.
You remove the top and your breath catches in your throat.
A library of letters sat in two neat rows, filling the four walls of the box. You gently run your fingers over the edge of them, sneaking glimpses of the words written on the envelopes.
‘Open when you’re sad.’
‘Open when you need reassurance.’
‘Open when you want to punch your annoying coworker.’
You choke out a laugh mixed sob and tears threaten to spill. You wondered how you got so lucky to have someone like Bada in your life.
The morning sun had shifted slightly, its rays now painted your room walls a warm golden. Bada’s words stared back at you on the envelope as you traced the curves of her letters with your finger, following the path of ink as it journeyed into words.
‘Open when you miss me.’
And so you did.
“Hello my princess,
I miss you too. Very much. I know you’ll see me on social media smiling and dancing but just know that I'm always thinking of you. I wish I could be there with you right now, to hold you and kiss you. I’m writing this before I leave but I just know that I’ll miss your kisses. Of course I will. Kissing you feels like home and I’ll miss my home. Even now as I’m writing this I’m wishing that I was kissing you. But they say absence makes the heart grow fonder. My heart will probably explode from the overflow of fondness. However, I want to apologise in advance for how busy I might get. But I promise I will do my best to talk to you. I have no idea what to expect but I imagine there will be days where our communication is sparse. But always remember that I still love you and miss you.
Please take care of your health, make sure to eat your meals and go to sleep on time. I need you to be happy and healthy when I get back.
I love you and I am counting down the days till I see my baby again.
Lots of Love,
Bada.”
Open when you’re happy
The chime of the doorbell danced through the air and you perked up.
Your lips stretched into a smile as you bounced toward the front door, almost running. You were expecting this as it had become a weekly routine and truthfully, you were near enough befriending the delivery man who you were now seeing more frequently than some of your friends.
You swiftly swing open the door and your eager eyes meet the familiar smile of the old man but you couldn’t stop your gaze from jumping to the brightly coloured item that sat in his arms.
“Good afternoon to you.” He greeted warmly.
You smiled and returned his warmth, “Good afternoon to you too.”
He chuckled and outstretched the item toward you and you took it from his hold.
“Today's flowers are pink asters.” The man said with enthusiasm.
“They represent love and sensitivity. They're also the emblem of Venus - the goddess of love. Your girlfriend is putting all of us to shame.” The man chuckles and you watch as his crows feet deepen. You remember the way he praised Bada, saying that he has never seen such heartfelt dedication from a person.
Bada had scheduled flower deliveries each Monday because she knew that you loved flowers and also because she knew that you loathed Mondays - the man was slightly speechless. He called it young love and made a comment about how some people go through their entire lives unable to find love and that if you find it with someone - anyone - then that's a blessing you should cherish.
And you truly did. You now sit in front of the vase of flowers and you admire its beauty. If the stars themselves fell to the earth and sprouted seed this is what the result would be - vibrant hues and an explosion of petals. They were truly beautiful and your heart pulsed with love for Bada. She was your happiness.
Your gaze shifted back to the opened letter on the side and you read it once more.
“Hi baby :) Happiness looks beautiful on you.
You’re always beautiful but I love the way you gleam and radiate when you’re happy. I especially love your smile. I feel like everytime you smile a fairy is born. I hope to one day meet one of your many fairies.
But I digress, I’m happy that you’re happy. I wish I could see you and be happy right there with you. But feel free to send me pictures of your smile (many of them) and tell me in detail about what made you happy ! You know I'd love to hear all about it. I hope you continue smiling and I know that there are more happy days ahead for you. There definitely will be - you are an attractor of everything pure and joyful (and of me).
I love you lots my angel,
Bada.”
Open when you’re in the mood
You remember when you first saw those words on the envelope. You remember scoffing at your girlfriend, not taking it seriously. She was oceans apart from you, there’s not really much that she could do when you were feeling needy and missing her touches.
You thought wrong.
You also remember the way your brows twitched in curiosity and how you felt a subtle rise of intrigue within you at the two words written on the paper.
“Ring me.”
Though you never thought that you would find yourself in this position. The position being your legs spread apart, your two fingers stretching out your dripping cunt and Bada - on speaker phone listening to the entire thing.
“Keep touching yourself for me, princess.” Bada breathed through the phone. She had been instructing you on what to do, how fast and how slow, ordering you to not hold back your moans because she ‘wants to hear your pretty sounds’.
“Add a third finger.”
You’re not sure if its because of her words or because of how fucked out you were but you nearly come right then. You let out a shaky breath and slide your free hand down in between your legs, you spread yourself a little more, giving your third finger room to enter. The dull sting mixes with the sensitivity and pleasure and you hesitate.
“It only feels good when you do it.” You whine as you slowly push further, your tight hole sucking your fingers in.
“Imagine that those are my fingers. You like it when I finger fuck you, don’t you ? The way you cry out my name and grip onto me as I pound your hole.”
You grew wetter at Bada’s words.
Your fingers slide in and you begin thrusting in and out. A thin layer of sweat glistened your skin as you lay half naked on the bed with your eyes fluttering up at the ceiling. You did as Bada said. You shut your eyes and imagined that your girlfriend was there - above you with her slender fingers stroking your pussy walls. You imagined her kissing the side of your neck as she usually did, and then slowly making her way down to your chest. You imagined her taking your hardened nipple into her warm mouth, her tongue sliding against it as she licked and tasted your tits. Her free hand would then join, playing with your other mound of flesh as her mouth busied itself with the other. She would start off by teasing your nipple by ghosting over it with her thumb. She would then gently tug at it before rolling it between her fingers. You imagined her hushed words, saying something about how beautiful you were and about how good you were being for her before she would mercilessly thrust her three fingers into your cunt, her thumb teasingly brushing over your swollen clit ever so often.
The tightening of the knot in your stomach pulls you out of your fantasy and a loud moan falls from your lips. Your breaths pick up speed and a chorus of whines and whimpers flow from you as you begin to chase your climax. Your back arches and your fingers move faster, curling up as they rub against the top of your walls.
“Fuck - Fuck, Bada.” You cry out as you feel your legs begin to shake.
Bada lets out a breathless curse and you hear shuffling in the background and then a door shut.
“You coming, princess ? I wanna hear you moan my name.”
You nod your head, forgetting that she can't see you, coherent words fail to leave your mouth. Your body tenses and your walls contract around your fingers. Pleasure rushes through you and for a moment you swear you see stars. Your body trembles and your legs shake as cries and moans for your girlfriend fall from your tongue.
“You’re so hot. Fuck. I wanna see you, princess.” Bada says, voice dripping with want.
You lay breathless, fingers still nested in your aching hole as you slowly guide yourself down from your high with slow thrusts. “But you’re not - you're not in your hotel room.” You breathe out.
“I’m farther away from everyone now.” Bada said as she reassured you. “ I’m in an empty room. It's okay baby . . . Plus, this makes it hotter.”
You let out a light breathy laugh, “You’re such an exhibitionist.”
Bada chuckles, “So are you. Now let me see you, princess.”
You reach for your phone and accept the video call request. Bada emerges onto your screen and your heart flutters. You smile and bite your lip slightly. She was wearing her glasses and you had always had a thing for her in her specs. You gazed at her and the lazy smirk that sat on her pink lips.
“Hi baby.”
“Hey princess.”
Your cheeks grew warm and you looked away for a moment.
“Now don’t get shy on me. We’re just getting started.” Bada says with a slight raise of her brow.
“Prop your phone up against something. I wanna see you properly.”
You obeyed and you positioned your phone on top of the bedside table, angling it toward you as you sat with your knees together on the bed.
Bada drank in the sight of you, she licked her lips and you saw her gaze deepen.
“Fuck, you’re wearing my shirt. You fingered yourself in my clothes ?” Bada said as she leaned into the camera slightly. “You’re so dirty aren't you princess, such a slut for me.”
You nod and fiddle with your fingers in your lap. Your body burned with both desire and slight humiliation.
“Go and get my strap.”
Your breath caught and your eyes widened. “What ?” You say, unsure of if you were now experiencing auditory hallucinations.
“I want you to fuck yourself with my strap. Go get it.” Bada stated coolly.
You now found yourself in another position. That position being your legs spread apart, once again, but now with Bada’s thick strap rubbing against your pussy lips, your wetness coating its length. And Bada sat watching through the camera as she once again instructed you on how she wanted you to touch yourself.
Bada stared at you hungrily with pupils blown.
“Keep rubbing your clit with it. Just like that princess. Don’t stop until you’re dripping and desperate, just how I like you.”
Your mouth hung open as you sang soft moans. You guided Bada’s strap against your clit, now swollen, as you rubbed yourself along the length of it in desperate motions.
“Bada - Bada, fuck.” You whine. “I’m close - gonna come . . .”
Bada’s smirk stretches. “Stop.”
Your eyes snap to the screen and you blink furiously. “Pleas-”
“I said stop, princess. Be a good girl for me, hm ?”
You reluctantly come to a stop, your hips slow its pace and you remove the strap from in between your legs.
“As much as I love seeing you touch yourself in my clothes, I want to see your pretty tits. Take your shirt off.”
You do as she says and pull the shirt over your head, your chest now on full display to Bada’s eager eyes.
Bada lets out a breathless curse as her eyes roam your body. “You’re heavenly.”
Your heart flutters at your girlfriend's words.
“Now spread your legs for me and fuck yourself with my strap.”
You moved closer to the camera and positioned yourself in front of Bada’s waiting gaze. You leaned back on one arm and parted your legs, your aching cunt now on show. You guided her strap along your pussy lips coating it with your juices. You hum slightly and a whimper leaves your lips as you gently push in the tip of the strap.
Your eyes flicker back to the screen and you swear you've never seen Bada’s gaze as intense as it was.
“Just like that. Stretch yourself out good for me.”
You sink onto Bada’s strap and your cunt clenches around it. You begin slow motions of gentle thrusting and then throw your head back as you feel the tip hit a particular spot within you walls - cries falling from your lips.
“Fuck. I wish I was there, baby. Gonna fuck you into the mattress when I get back.”
And you knew that was a promise she intended to keep.
Open when we fight
It had been nearly a week since your last proper conversation with Bada. You were both busy and had been adjusting to the constant changes of time zone differences. It was becoming a little draining for the both of you but the daily little check ups and good morning and night messages cushioned the pain. It was the little things that kept you going all this time but you were beginning to crave a little more attention from your girlfriend.
Bada, on the other hand, was becoming stressed. Rehearsals were tough and the jetlag exhausted her. Simultaneously, Bada was also worried about you. She was aware that the communication between the both of you had dwindled recently and she knew you did your best to work with her schedule but she also knew that deep down you were hurting because of it. Bada was beginning to feel inadequate and she carried the blame.
That is why she regretted it as intensely as she did when those harsh words flew from her mouth that one evening.
“You’re suffocating me. You know how busy I am and honestly right now I need some space.”
Bada’s words were like ice to your ears and you felt the frost of her tone bite and sting you. You shivered, slightly taken aback by her words.
“Oh . . . Okay then. No worries, see you.”
You hang up the phone.
You stared into space for a moment. Numbness spreading over you as you swallow your sorrow.
Your phone vibrates and you force your heavy eyes to look over to it. You see Bada’s contact flash on your screen. You scoff and deny the call before putting your phone on do not disturb.
The moon peers at you through your window and you only hope that she’s gazing at you with empathy. She too was worlds apart from her lover, unable to meet. Tears brim in your eyes and you blink them away.
The sun rises and you soon follow. You turn on your phone and then turn off do not disturb only to find countless missed calls and messages from Bada pleading for your forgiveness. Your heart pangs and you decide to respond.
“I just woke up. Went to bed early last night.” You type and hit send before tossing your phone onto the bed.
You were still a little sad. You felt dejected and you felt unwanted. Perhaps you were a little pushy, but all you wanted was to speak to your girlfriend. You sigh as you stare into the mirror at your deflated reflection. A small box under your bed then catches your attention and you find yourself kneeling to pick it up.
Bada’s letters.
You had gone though nearly half of them by now but you had yet to open this particular one.
“I’m sorry.
I don’t know what we fought about but that doesn’t matter because I apologise for making you upset. I would never intentionally hurt you but sometimes I can be a dummy and I make mistakes. So I'm sorry baby. I hate seeing you upset or angry and especially if I'm the cause. I want to thank you for still staying with me all this time regardless. Everyday I'm still learning and growing and everyday I'm thankful that I get to do that by your side. We are two imperfect people but we make a perfect pair if you ask me. I know sometimes you also make mistakes but I forgive you. I will always forgive you. When we fight we showcase our room for growth as a couple and as individuals. We disagree sometimes but that is normal. There’s nothing wrong with you and nothing wrong with us. I still love you baby. I always will.
Lots of love,
Bada.”
Just as you finish reading your phone vibrates and you look to see Bada's name on the screen.
“Good morning baby. I’m sorry about last night. You’re not suffocating. I'm just really stressed right now but I promise it’s not because of you. It will never be you.” Her message read.
Your lips pouted slightly and you typed back, “I'm sorry too. I know I can be extra clingy sometimes. But please don’t feel pressured to always respond. Take out time for yourself too, it’s okay. I’ll always be here.”
On the other end Bada let out a small breath of relief and finally allowed her body to relax. She read over your words and her heart yearned for you.
Another message pings through and Bada breaks out in the first genuine smile that week.
“Btw your letter was cute. I’ll always love you too.”
Open when it’s our anniversary
The chime of the doorbell rang through the apartment and your brows twitched in puzzlement. You double checked the day - it wasn’t a Monday - so weren't expecting any deliveries. You also were not expecting any visitors. Regardless, you make your way over to open the door.
Before you stood none other than the delivery man. Who boasted the widest of grins as he held out a wonderful arrangement of flowers toward you.
You stand, mouth slightly agape as you take in the beauty of the blossoms before you. The sweet aromas danced through the air.
Today was your anniversary with Bada and you had both planned to video call later that night. You knew Bada was busy and that she was gearing up for the finale of the tour later that week, so you were grateful that she cleared out a few hours of her schedule to spend with you. But you had not expected anything like this.
“Your girlfriend really outdid herself with this one.” He chuckled as you took the bouquet into your arms, its sheer size competed with the top half of your body. You poke your head around the bouquet and you smile back. “It’s our anniversary. I had no idea she scheduled flowers for today - and flowers this big. I’m so sorry you had to carry this.” You say with a meek laugh.
“Nonsense. It's my pleasure.” The old man waves his hand, swatting away your words. “You have grown to become me and my wife's favourite customers - both you and your girlfriend. We’re honoured that she chose our small flower store and made all those orders. So please, it’s not a problem my dear. I hope to see you both around sometime and feel free to stop by, my wife would love to meet the lovely lady that she picks flowers for.”
Your heart warms and you nod your head, “Of course. I’d love to stop by. But I'll see you on Monday won’t I ?”
The man shakes his head, “This is my last delivery dear.”
You frown slightly and you feel your mood dampen. “But why ?”
“Because I’m back.”
That voice.
You step out into the hallway and your head spins to the direction it came from.
Bada Lee.
Bada walked toward you. Your eyes scanned her tall frame, her oversized shirt that draped around her body, her grey baggy sweatpants that hung from her hips and her wide and comforting smile that plastered her face.
That was your girlfriend. And she was home.
You ran towards her and she met you halfway, scooping you and the large bouquet into her arms before spinning you around. You laugh and you cry. Trails of tears fall as happiness overtakes you.
“You’re back ?!” You exclaim as you hastily wipe your face.
Bada gazes down at you with the fondest of eyes. “For now, yes. Happy anniversary baby.”
She leans down to gently press her lips to yours.
The old man chuckles in delight, “Congratulations to the both of you. I expect to see you both at my shop very soon.”
You and Bada grin and you wish him well after agreeing to pay him and his wife a visit.
Your head remains in a daze and you squint your eyes at Bada, unsure of if you were now experiencing visual hallucinations.
Bada laughs as she puts down her suitcase, “What ?”
You fold your arms, “You’re really here ?”
“I am.”
“You said next week.”
“I might have told a little white lie . . .”
You whine and gently smack her arm causing her to laugh even more.
“And all those flowers you’ve been sending . . . and the letters ?” You pout slightly. “I don’t deserve you.”
Bada steps closer and takes your chin between her thumb and index. “You deserve everything and more. There was no way I wasn’t going to see you on our two year anniversary. I planned to be here from the very start.”
You look up at her and you hold her gaze. “You did ?”
Bada hums. “I did. However, I'll be catching a flight back tomorrow but by the end of the week I'll be home for good.”
You nod your head in understanding and Bada smiles down at you before leaning in to bridge the gap between your lips. Your arms rest around her shoulders and hers on your waist, her grip firm as she gently caresses your skin with her thumb. You part your lips and tilt your head, Bada hums against your mouth before slipping her tongue through your lips - deepening the kiss.
Moments pass and you are forced to come up for air. Bada then rests her forehead against yours.
“You read today's letter yet ?” She mutters softly.
You gently shake your head, “Not yet. I was about to but then the doorbell rang.”
Bada smiled and took your hand into hers.
“Perfect.”
Bada now sat beside you on the bed with the letter in hand.
She began to read.
“To my princess, my baby, my best friend and to the love of my life,
Happy Second Anniversary <3
Happy 730 days of us and of our love. These 730 days are just the beginning because I know that we have a lifetime ahead of us. Thank you for staying with me, for being with me despite my shortcomings. Thank you for being my best friend, my confidant and thank you for loving me back.
You truly are an angel walking this earth and I sometimes wonder if heaven misses you. I’m prepared to put up a fight because now that I have you - not even Zeus himself could pry me away from you. Nothing on earth nor in the heavens above could taint the love that I have for you. Know that my heart belongs to you and that I am ready to cross whatever seas that may lie between us.
I’ll see you soon my love.
Bada.”
You were at a loss for words and watched as Bada neatly folded the letter and placed it back into its envelope. She then looked at you and gently took your hand intertwining your fingers.
“I love you so much.” You whisper, afraid that your voice would fail you.
“I love you more my princess.” Bada pulled you closer and then set you on her lap.
You gaze down at her and she peers up at you, her fingers ghost over your thigh, tracing lazy shapes over the fabric covering your skin. Sparks of electricity shoot through you and you lick your lips slightly. Bada’s gaze intensifies. Her hands now slowly creep up your shirt, your warm skin under her fingertips.
“I’ve missed you.” You breathe out, gravity pulling you in.
“I’ve missed you too.” Bada’s hands lingered as they explored the familiar territory that was your curves.
You shudder and your breath picks up.
“Wanna show me how much ?” You say softly.
Bada’s lips stretched into a slight smirk but her eyes overflowed with love.
“Of course baby. I’m gonna take my time with you . . . Missed you so much.”
Bada kept her promise and she took her time with you, exploring the work of art that she swore had no price.
Your body, your soul - you.
Author’s note / Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed <3 Feel free to send me requests of letters that you’d like to see Bada write . . . Totally down to do more of those :3
Tag list / @princhii , @lil-elliesgf , @wiselight , @nimxie , [Open]
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lilliumrorum · 3 months
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What does he have that I don’t? (Part One)
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<<Previous | Masterlist | Next>> Synopsis: After discovering your lover's affair with his best friend, you found yourself in emotional turmoil. Seeking comfort, you end up in your captains office for the second time that night.
WC: 2k
Content/Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Verbal abuse, Smut, Cheating, Unrequited love, Threesome is mentioned.
Notes: Sorry this took so long to post, I've been in school, at work or stoned so I didn't have the time. I do now and I'm back!
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Betrayal, heartbreak, shock, and confusion are common reactions in such situations. However, this was definitely not just some situation. The head that was once thrown back in pleasure was now gawking at you, awaiting your reaction.
"[Name]..." Simon sighed.
How could he have expected you to respond? He shared intimacy with someone who understood him better than you ever did—the person he introduced you to just two weeks into your relationship. Johnny was his closest confidant, his right-hand man, the one he would willingly take a bullet for. You're not even sure he would even identify you on the battlefield.
"Sorry I barged in, I'll leave you to yourselves."
"Wait-"
Without granting him the opportunity to finish, you swiftly closed the door and slung the robust duffle bag over your shoulder.
You always had a feeling that he was attracted to Johnny, but didn't think he was aware. Simon wasn't one to express admiration openly, but he consistently praised Johnny as the best sergeant he had ever witnessed in action. You wished Simon would speak about you the way he talked about Johnny, but you never felt jealous. Now, you felt numb, the only sensation you feel is that of your knuckles turning white as you tightly grip your bag.
Wandering aimlessly, you had no idea where to go without a single friend nearby. Sure you had teammates, but you weren't close to any of them. You were genuinely alone, and it seemed even Simon didn't want you around (not that you were planning on going back tonight anyway). You couldn't comprehend how something so right could turn so wrong. Maybe it started when those morning kisses shifted to him leaving under the guise of going for a "run." The movie nights together evolved into you being isolated, reading a book in your dimly lit bedroom, with him conspicuously absent. Your bed was usually always empty, due to Simon's "workload", but there was going to be one less body tonight. It was no longer your bed.
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"Really? Are you actually going to leave me when you've just come home?!"
Simon seemed unbothered by your tear soaked face.
"I don't always want to walk in and deal with your naggin'. Fuckin' Christ, I can't even go for a lap around the base with out your crazy ass losing your shit!" He lashed out.
A whimper left your lips.
"I just missed you, Si! I love you! It's not nagging if I tell you that I want to see you! Where is the man I fell for? Where did his love go? This is not you Simon! It's not fucking you!"
"I never fell. 'Si' does not exist. Simon doesn't fucking exist."
"So you never felt any of it? You've just been faking your way through this entire fucking relationship? Do you even want to try anymore? You don't even fucking care!"
He paused.
"How can I try to feel remorse for a love that was a lie? The only thing I even remotely enjoy about you is that after we fuck you leave me the hell alone and go to sleep." He spat at you coldly.
"Okay... well if Simon doesn't exist then whos been sleeping in my bed?! Who used to kiss my tears away? I want him back. All you ever do now is cause them."
"A ghost." his words dripping with malice as he slammed your door.
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You were too caught up in the sadness of your relationship to realize you were crying or understand what was going on around you. The sadness caused something to decay in your heart. The thought of what you witnessed made you feel nauseous, so you tried to get your conscience off of the present matter. Your thoughts drifted to your captain, the only person you felt you could trust now. He had repeatedly mentioned his availability in his office, even beyond regular hours.
Captain Price was consistently kind. Despite the necessity of sternness in his role as a captain, his gaze was always gentle when directed towards you. As you started to notice the features of the building, a sense of lightness washed over you, as if all your problems faded away upon its sight. You observed a light flicker in response to the loud steps you took across the terrain. The door cracked open, and you saw his eyes start to crinkle when he noticed you.
"Things aren't goin' very well I reckon?" He smiled sympathetically.
"Not at all. I think things wont be going anywhere now. I have nowhere to go."
He cocked an eyebrow at your words, then turned to hold the door. John Price was a genuine gentleman, not someone pretending to be what they weren't, but the authentic, real deal. At times, you wished Simon could be more like him—kind yet firm, resembling an actual person.
"You can tell me about it once we get to my room." He shot you a soft, closed lip smile.
After reaching the stairs in the hall, both of you climbed them wearily. You could sense his gaze on you; he was studying your face. He could see that the whites of your eyes were visibly red from crying, and there was a faint trace of a tear on your cheek. He stopped examining your face as you reached his door. Once more, he held the door open for you as you entered.
"You can place your bag in the closet {name}, I know you've had a hard night."
You followed through, placing the oversized bag on his closet floor. He entered his bedroom with you, staying close in case you needed any assistance. Your face became heated for some reason as you found yourself in the bedroom with your captain. You hurriedly left his bedroom, while he followed slowly with fatigued movements. Upon reaching the living room, he sat down on the couch with a grunt, and you followed suit.
"Tell me all that happened after you left my office." He commanded.
Price was always very protective of you, intervening with Simon when he observed your distressing situation. When he witnessed Simon screaming at you for reaching for his hand, he nearly lost his mind. He couldn't bear the way his lieutenant treated you. Some part of you had always been drawn to your captain. His soft smile and sweet demeanor made you ponder what it would be like to be in a relationship with him. The only obstacle in your path was the age difference, and you were aware that if he ever found out, it would complicate things between you.
"I found him. I found him with someone..."
Your face told him it wasn't just someone.
"Do you know who?"
You nodded slowly, a tear rolling down your cheek. His eyes widened. Just as he was about to ask, you answered.
"Johnny."
His jaw dropped almost comically. He would never suspect Simon to be interested in men, and hearing that he was involved with Johnny just made the news ten times more shocking.
"How can I compare to his best friend? The one who understands him more than I ever will?" You sniffled.
"Sometimes a man does foolish things.."
You turned your gaze to John, anticipating the completion of his sentence. He looked lost in thought.
"But?"
"But nothing. What Lieutenant did was beyond foolish. I've seen the way he's treated you, dear. For the last several months, to be exact."
You stared at him with a questioning expression. If he had noticed, why hadn't he said anything?
"You have?"
A smile tugged at his lips.
"Everyone has, Sergeant. Why else would I be comfortable with you staying here?"
You huffed out a breath,
"If you knew then why didn't you tell me?"
John found himself at a loss for how to respond to your question. On one hand, his lieutenant demonstrated exceptional skills and garnered respect among comrades. On the other hand, you were hardworking, determined, and notably stealthy, often taking the lead in infiltrating enemy bases. Both of you held immense value to the 141, and he was reluctant to risk losing either of you.
"I'm caught in a position where I can't say anything, love."
Your heart fluttered at the nickname.
"Ah. I'm sorry John. I don't want to get you caught in this mess."
Another droplet fell onto your combat pants.
"You weren't the one who made it." He said as he placed his hand on your shoulder.
The pain of witnessing your partner with someone else lingered in your mind, and tears continued to stream down from your reddened eyes. Your cheeks noticeably swelled as you fought to contain your emotions. Did Simon ever truly exist?
Maybe he was right. Maybe the whole time he really did just want a reliable source of pleasure.
"Stop thinkin', love. How about you take a nice shower and change out of that uniform. There's no way in hell that that's comfortable."
With a sniffle and a nod of your head, you made your way to his front door and proceeded to undo your bulky military boots.
"John..."
"Yes Love?"
"Where is your bathroom?"
He huffed out a laugh and tilted his head, signaling for you to follow him. The sound of his laughter enveloped you in a warm, appreciated feeling. As he walked you down the hall, you found yourself imagining what it would be like to truly be loved. The thought crossed your mind that if only John were younger, maybe you could have felt that. You sighed at your thoughts, and he looked at you with a puzzled expression. He opened the door and held it for you once more.
"Make sure not to use all the hot water." He teased.
As you walked in, he left you to yourself. The room had a certain charm to it, although it was evident that a man lived there. It featured dim lighting, a burgundy rug, and a stylish shower that housed some kind of sauna tub beneath it. You couldn't help but doubt whether he had even had the chance to use it. Everything about it appeared brand new.
As you stripped yourself from your clothing, your mind began to wonder. What would've happened if you didn't leave. What would they have done? What would Simon have done?
For some reason, you found yourself fantasizing about them. You were still mad of course, but Imagining Simon feasting on your core as Soap sucked him off was so arousing. It was almost repulsive how vividly your fantasies stirred up that sensation within you. Running the tips of your fingers through Simon's messy blonde hair as his tongue conquered your cunt, looking up at you with those blown out brown eyes. God, Just the thought of it was making you clench.
You started the shower, feeling a sense of self-disgust. Here you were heart broken and now all you can think about is having a threesome.
You took a deep breath and increased the temperature, attempting to divert your attention from the unsettling thoughts in your mind.
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He didn't know what to do with himself. You hadn't stomped back to the room like you usually do. You didn't have any friends nearby to stay with, and you couldn't have gone far.
He glanced at the clock in your living room. It had been almost four hours since you walked in on them.
Where the fuck could you be?
"What're yae so bloody mad about mate? It's not like it's the lass' fault." John said sarcastically.
Simon slammed his hands on the cheap coffee table in front of him as he stood.
"I fuckin' know that."
Johnny searched his eyes, attempting to discern any trace of emotion and understand what thoughts were running through his mind.
"I was kind've hopin' she would join in."
That piqued Simon's interest.
"Yae think it's a proper idea too, huh? I told yae I'm secretly a genius!" The Scot comically jumped as he spoke, adding a touch of humor to the situation.
Maybe Johnny was right. Maybe it was a good idea.
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levitiquee · 7 months
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It'd been years after the war.
You no longer had to fight anymore.
The ODM bruises had started to fade as you don't have to tighten the straps anymore, so hard that they dug into your skin. You don't miss the familiar weight of the gas tanks and thunder spears around your waist.
No more recovering only the remains of your dead friend. No more running for your life. No more corpses, no more blood.
You don't miss that life.
You've found your peace, a life with Levi.
You would have never thought it was possible. Not just you and him, but the whole concept of it.
That finally, you can sleep peacefully, without being scared of an urgent call that a wall was broken through. Though you'd still have nightmares but still. And even then it was fine because you had Levi now, to help you get through it. You no longer hard to curl up to yourself and try to calm yourself down, hug a pillow and sob silently so none of your dormmates wake up. You had Levi now.
Or the mornings, you think. The odd sense of peace, the feeling of safety. You can wake up beside him and stay in bed for as long as you want. You don't have to get up and search for your uniform. There's no training to be late to. You just curl yourself around him and watch him sleep, peaceful. And you get to watch when he'd woke up, sleepy sleepy eyes peering through and then arms wrapping around you tighter. He looks so vulnerable then. But you're glad, you think. That he can sleep like that now. That he feels safe enough to, safe with you. His dark circles aren't so visible anymore and he doesn't look as tired as he used to. He still can't get a full rest, but the insomnia isn't that bad.
Life had changed. And for the best. Peace for him and peace for you.
But try as you may, and oh dear God did you try, you can't actually forget. Can't actually leave the life you had spent so many years living behind just like that.
No, the scars never faded.
Souvenirs, you think. Reminders etched into your skin, reminders of who you were and what you've done and all that you pray to forget.
Yours stopped bothering you at one point. It used to. Once. Severely.
You'd stare at the bruises on your thighs for hours or the livid pale slashes along your arms or your stomach. Rough knuckles and calloused fingertips, the constant usage of ODM had left marks there too.
It's more the memories than anything that comes with it.
You used to think, how could anyone possibly look at this marred mess you were and still love you?
Oh but Levi.
He never told you but you knew.
He thinks it's not enough. That he's not enough. That surely you deserve someone with all their fingers, and both their eyes.
And you think it's ridiculous.
But even now, after so many years, you'd sometimes catch a glimpse of him staring at himself into the mirror, fingers grazing his face.
The world had been so cruel to him. And he didn't know how to be kinder to himself.
Unlike you, who cried it out, he never learnt how to actually handle his emotions. So when it's one of those days, he merely shuts himself out. In his own dark little mind. And those days, you leave him alone, because he only curls into himself deeper if you try to get him out. And you learnt to give him space, for him to come out on his own. Though every inch of you wants to help him, but you don't know how.
And it was one of those days, you realized when you walked into the bathroom.
He was staring at the bathroom mirror, arms braced on the counter. So focused he didn't even hear you coming.
"Levi?" You called out gently.
He didn't answer, but his head tilts towards you, eyes shifting to meet yours. He only gives a slight nod.
"You... okay?"
"...yeah." He takes a moment but nods. "Fine."
And it was then you noticed how hard his fingers gripped onto the counter. And you noticed his expression, the look of guilt there. How he wouldn't even look at you properly.
Your heart hurt.
If only he understood.
You didn't say anything but walked towards him. And without a word, you slide on top of the counter, shifting so he was standing between your legs. You locked your legs behind him, pulling him closer. He was startled but he didn't say anything, his eyes downcast.
There was so much pain inside those gray eyes.
"Levi." Your voice gentle, soft. "Look at me."
At that, he only tilted his head, looking further away from you, eyes darting sideways.
"No, look at me." You held his chin, turning his head towards you. He flinched at your touch, but you could see the resistance breaking under your gaze. The walls coming down.
With that, you held up your hair, tilting your head to show him a slash that went up to your neck.
"See this?"
He looked at you, confused. And without a word, you tugged on your t-shirt, taking off the clothing in one pull.
"What are you... doing?" He asked, warily. Eyes on your face. Even after so many years, he still got shy.
"No, eyes here lev." You said firmly. "See this?" You pointed at a scar along your elbow, then towards the bruises that ODM had left on your chest. " And this?"
He only stared at you, expression hard. His jaw tightened.
"Tell me Lev." You sighed.
"Does these repulse you? Creeps you out? Do you think they're ugly? Do they make you love me less? Or not at all?"
Levi looked horrified. He was immediately shaking your head, desperate to deny the words. How could you even think that?
"No." He said hastily, eyes wide. "No, what are you saying? Of course not—"
"So why on earth," You gently cupped his cheek, shushing him down. "Do you believe that yours makes me love you any less?"
Your thumb pressed along the scars on his cheek. They were white now, no longer blood red and livid on his skin as it was back when Hange stiched them up. You swallowed, pressing your forehead to his.
"What made you think," You whispered. "That these makes you worth any less levi? "
He didn't pull away, but he stiffened. His face hardened but there was a look of despair beneath his eyes. "That's not the same—''
"How is it any different?" You cut him out, your voice firm. "You tell me, I'm waiting."
He hesitated, staring at you. And then he looked down.
"...I'm crippled."
"Your point?"
"You deserve someone younger. Someone whole. Someone who's more than me."
"There's no one that's more than you levi."
"I'm damaged. "
"We'll fix it. I'll fix you. So, help me fix myself."
"I'll hurt you. I've already hurt you. I don't know how to be better than this. I don't know how to love someone. "
"You're the only person who have never hurt me. You make me feel more worthy than anyone else in this world ever could. And holy shit, if you can't," You whispered. "If you can't, let me. God, I'd love the shit out of you if you'd just let me. So fucking let me in Levi, don't push me away. Don't shut me out. You've done that enough in your lifetime."
And Levi was still. He was made out of stone. So hard, so rough, the edges so sharp. He tries to soften himself for you, but it goes against everything he ever taught himself his whole life and he doesn't know how to do that. He tries, but somehow it never feels enough. Not enough for you. And he wish he could believe that you didn't love him because you do and he could feel it. He can always feel it . Like the way you were looking at him and he felt so, so exposed.
It makes him feel guilty. Someone like you doesn't belong with someone like him. And he wishes, for once in your life, you'd stop looking at him like that so he could convice himself that you don't want him and he could walk away.
And he knows he makes you feel like you're not good enough, because he sees your sad expression when he locks himself out. But it's not you, he wants to tell you. God, you're fucking perfect and it's never you. It's him. He's the fucking problem. The space inside his head was so dark he was scared that just might be enough for you to leave.
But you. The tempt of it.
The warmth of you. You were all softness and gentless and goodness, so so kind to him and it makes him want to hold you tight and never let go again.
But somedays it gets so hard.
He isn't used to this. To show his feelings. To feel so bare in front of someone. Instinct doesn't let him.
He isn't used to feel so loved.
But he thinks he'd try. For you.
Because now that it's you, he doesn't know how to go back to a time there wasn't you.
"Levi?" Your voice pulls him out of his mind. Like you always did. His saving grace, his angel. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling you closer and he can hardly breathe.
"Don't give up on me, Levi." You whispered to his ears. "On you. On us."
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@sad-darksoul @anxious-chick @raginginferno267
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elysiansparadise · 7 months
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Heyyo !! Hope you're doing well. I have a question if are going continue your planets in houses series for 8th House moon
Hello! I’m doing just fine, I hope you too. Of course I will continue, until I’ve covered each placement. 🤎 
Moon in the 8th house
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They are people of complex nature, since many of them tend to be very cautious when it comes to opening up to new people, they do not trust their hearts so easily in others and they can even show themselves as very self-sufficient in the emotional field, however, these natives internally desire a deep degree of emotional intimacy, even bordering on emotional. They prefer intense, meaningful ties that really contribute something to their lives rather than something superficial and vain. This is usually something difficult for them because it is difficult for them to open up and want to meet new people. This is due more than anything to a fear of appearing vulnerable, manipulable and, mostly, due to bad experiences with previous relationships. It’s likely that the relationship with the family, mother or a specific member was tense and taught them to always be alert for any sign of lying or betrayal. They detect people who show false emotions or who lie, as they stand out for being observant. They may prefer to make decisions based on their mind rather than their heart, and it is likely that at some point in their life they ignored their emotional needs, both other people and themselves. They fear that they will feel a lot and get hurt or that the other person will not give themselves in that devoted and passionate way with which they do it.
For them it is crucial to give their all when it comes to something important or meaningful to them, they do not give themselves halfway. They find it difficult to be expressive, but once they are comfortable enough they are very constant with their demonstrations of affection or appreciation. They have this ability to feel the emotions of others and tend to accurately deduce the emotional triggers and needs of others. They have a genuine curiosity to know the core of those who matter to them, they will want to know every part of your mind, your history and everything that your heart is silent about, this in order to understand you better. In the sexual field, they need a certain emotional closeness or feeling in love to fully enjoy. A pretty face is not enough for them and they tend to be very attracted to complex, interesting and understanding personalities. They give themselves completely, body and soul, and there is nothing they like more than feeling that their partner does the same. Aftercare is crucial and necessary.
They know how to be alone and highly value their time with themselves, they are introspective with their emotions and they like to get to the root of things. A lie can be something unforgivable for many of them and they will always prefer a very honest truth over a white or sugar-coated lie. Their intuition is very strong and they may feel an attraction or even have a knack for things like tarot, astrology or similar things. They read you like a book, but you can hardly do the same with them. They have a deep connection with their unconscious. It is likely that since they were children they have had very intense spiritual experiences and that the mystical world seems truly fascinating to them. They have one goal [among their many goals] to become the adult they felt they needed when they were children, since it is likely that their inner child carries a feeling of fear and insecurity. They are people who behind their strong and empowered personality is someone sensitive and compassionate. People often see them as a very strong pillar in which to fully trust, and it is likely that only the natives themselves are aware of their emotional intensity, as others describe them as calm and collected most of the time.
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