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#i have no idea what tag i used for that universe on this blog and I have to go to work so i have no time to check oh no haha
luna-lovegreat · 5 months
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Triple Threat Time
The Terror Trio
Legend, Hyrule, and Wild are known as the Triple Threat and I love them.
@breannasfluff for you, m'lady
Legend and Wild
These two are the most over looked.
And from the very beginning, we have a ton of examples of them just. Being. Near each other.
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Like magnets
We can trace back to the moment these two really connected and spent more time with each other... which was of COURSE over girlfriend trauma
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That's one of our first Legend being soft moments, showing true empathy. And Wild found that Legend could be understanding of his hurt- this is where they connected beyond just being closer than most
The main point in the plot with Legend and Wild is when they split off into groups
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They went together, and this interaction shows that with these three, Legend is the common sense filter that keeps the other two from falling off of cliffs
Wild: I wanted to climb the mountain!
Leg: there is literally a cliff to fall off of right there
One of the things I love most about about Legend and Wild is they understand each other
We have multiple examples of them literally stating facts about the other in coversation.
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"I know you love to tease" "you break everything" "you're not usually impressed"
They just state facts about each other because they get each other and understand
Wild and Hyrule
Ah yes. The two that have so many similarities in which they give the rest of the chain heart attacks
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They both have the insecurity about knighthood. Hyrule because he's never felt adequate, and Wild feels like he only used to be.
They both hate maps (who needs them, right? *promptly gets lost*)
They do not care about injury at all. "I can walk off a broken leg for sure it'll be fine"
When left alone these two nearly die. Like every time. Love them.
Here's a lot of them hanging out:
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Legend and Hyrule
The downfall duo
These two are from the same timeline, the downfall timeline, and there are certain connections coming from the same world. I think that their world made them have a similar fighting style because of how it's developed.
They are around each other mostly
And they always fight together
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Here's my take on these two: Legends more confident because he's done so much. Hyrule's less confident because he didn't have such an insane number of adventures.
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Legend's been through enough to know this is ganon's fault, not his. Hyrule's been through little enough (even with insanely hard adventures) that he has much more insecurity.
These two are quite possibly the most skilled in survival, because of no formal knight training. Instead of having perfect swordsmanship, they have tools (legend) and spells (hyrule) to fight in a world that was so much harder.
Which of course relates to wild who woke up in a cave, found a sword and winged it.
That's their relationships two on two
Legend and wild: power team, overlooked but so so close
Wild and Hyrule: do not let them near fire
Legend and Hyrule (downfall duo): They fight together and they are a pair
Combined these three make a Triple Threat
They also have dynamics with all three of them combined
Bestest moments of them:
When turned into a bunny, Legend mentioned both Hyrule and Wild as the ones he was worried about seeing him that way
In both scenes of Wild breaking swords Legend or Hyrule was there
When Wild was injured, they both somehow lost their senses and freaked out about him being dead (lol)
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But with all of them they understand each other
Wild and Hyrule know Legend is grumpy and rude- they don't care, he's their brother. As the one who appreciates maps, he keeps both from getting even closer to dying
Hyrule: he feels accepted. These two make him feel like he has a place and is valuable to those with similarities.
Hyrule and Legend don't care about Wild's odd traits, they know that he breaks stuff and gets hurt often.
Proof
!!!! Looking at their scenes (in my screenshots above too), this is clear: all three of them have more examples than most of them being next to or near the others
Plus all the adventures and scenes of them- they fight and wander together- they are on this journey with each other
Because they understand each other, they spend time with each other. With nine people in the chain, when a few are around each other this much rather than the others, it makes it very clear how close they are, since they simply want to be near each other.
Here's my very favourite picture that perfectly sums up the three of them:
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Legend: grrrr
Hyrule: excited
Wild: still can't put his hands on his hips properly
And these three combined... we've got constantly injured, set fire to everything, get lost a ton, snarky rudeness galore, plus swords and tools and magic, and that makes them a threat
(one thing I want to point out. you can see this by looking at the screenshots in this post. with the chain, much of figuring out who is close is simply who is near each other. looking at their interactions and the times they are hanging out as a group, Four is most often near and hanging out with these three rather than the others, so I think he is also very close to them and feels comfortable with them. do with that what you will.)
Yeah! Terror Trio.
:)
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palestporn · 1 year
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Continuing the encouragement: I would very much be interested in reading In Cold Blood on ao3!! I’d be interested in reading pretty much anything you write tbh—you could publish Gamkar’s grocery list and it would still be one of the best things I’ve ever read
Haven't posted about this over here much but STILL WORKING ON IT, 107,000 words in at the moment, 6 chapters mostly complete, probably at least 4 or 5 more to finish out?? At least? It's been a second since I wrote humanstuck stuff, haha, it's a fun shakeup.
-
Gamzee turns his hands, and you let them go; he falters back like he wasn’t expecting that, and then cautiously touches your skin with cold fingertips, tracing along the place under your jaw where your armor doesn’t cover.  Pausing at your pulse, like he can feel how it’s pounding hard enough to make you shake.
He says, “...You scared of me?”
You don’t know.  You just look up at him, so fucking tired, and tilt your head to press against his touch.  
His hands slip around your throat, and you let them.  Frame your neck, almost lovingly, thumbs pressed against your jugular veins.  A careful hint of pressure that you know could knock you out in seconds if he squeezed.  
“Gonna tell me how okay I am again?” he says, and you can’t tell if it’s a dig or a plea.  His thumb strokes back and forth over your pulse, presses for a second, twitches away again.  “Go on, motherfucker.  Tell me how you’ll fix me.”
His grip tenses when you reach up—you move slow, breathing steady, and just rest a hand on his hand.  Like he did when you washed his hair for him, just holding him there.  Waiting.  
“Tell me how you’ll fix me,” he says again, and he’s begging, this time, his grip tightens and loosens and tightens again.  “Can’t stop you.  I’ll fuckin’ let you, even.  Won’t have to hurt me, I won’t make you.  Just tell me how I’m good for you, I swear I’ll learn.”
Your eyes are burning.  You can’t turn your face away from him, with his hands at your throat—and you’re so tired.  You’re so fucking tired of acting like you know what to do.  You can feel him hurting in your chest, reaching out for you now, giving in all in a rush, a flood; you don’t know how to take what he wants to give.  You don’t want to.  You can’t.
You shake your head, and feel a hot tear track down one of your cheeks, stupid and helpless.  Gamzee twitches back, eyes widening—reaches out like he’s going to brush the tear away, grits his teeth, jerks his hands away and knots them in his hair instead.
“Sorry,” he says, wretched and small.  “I’ll take, I’ll do, whatever penance—  I know you’re pissed, ‘m sorry—”
He flinches when you lean forward—when you touch his cheek he goes still, shivering.  When you kiss his forehead, he makes a noise like a bitten-off sob.
“What should I,” he starts, half-frantic, and you shake your head and kiss his cheek, his lips, the tip of his nose, combing your fingers at his hair.  “Do you want, should I—” his hand touches your thigh, hesitant—you twitch back despite yourself and he goes still, yanking his hand back like your skin burned him.  “Sorry, fuck, sorry—  Tell me the rules, motherfucker, tell me what you want!” 
He sounds half-desperate, and the tone of his voice burns, the way he’s looking at you.  Like he looked at his god, reverent and terrified.  
“You always knew what I should do, best friend, Karkat, your will be done, your motherfucking commandment—”
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castielmacleod · 1 year
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The thing with me and Thee Prequel. Is that it frankly doesn’t deserve to exist in my opinion and so the only and I mean the ONLY capacity in which I even slightly personally care about it is in what I can steal from it for my personal canon. Which…. is really is only a step or two down from where I already am with spn itself. Like when it comes to my little self-indulgent rewrite project, spn canon is just a big long buffet table from which I’ve tried a bit of everything, despised most of it, and now I’m going back and picking out a few specific things I actually DID like for my takeaway box. So within that analogy, spn/win is like I turn around from the main buffet table and there’s another smaller buffet table where all the gluten-free options are. And I’m not allergic to gluten myself, I don’t NEED to eat gluten-free, I could easily ignore this entire table, but as I happen to pass by, well… if I notice something there that looks good, then there’s really no reason not to grab it and add it to my takeaway box, is there. That’s kind of my philosophy on that.
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sooniebby · 7 months
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hey I just recently found your blog while scrolling through tags and I’m so in love with all your ocs (especially Yubin and mind reader’s guy) I love reading your works :) sometimes I even reread them cause they’re just so *chefs kiss*
So far, I’m really looking forward to the mind reader since there’s so much tension and it’s just such a neat idea. Just imagine if the two got paired up for a group/partner project 👀 the poor guy is going to lose his mind while the mind reader gets front row tickets to it
(not necessarily a request but you’re free to write about it if you want to!! I just wanted to mention the idea since I’ve been thinking about it a lot ever since I read about the two)
Aw thanks so much! Glad you like them, your idea is really good, I had to use it! As usual, bottom male reader. Based on this post.. added more characterization
Xavier Young.. that was the name of the pervert plaguing your thoughts. Just like right now, while you desperately tried to pay attention to the girl in front of you—talking about what part you’ll have for the group project..
But there’s just this nagging sound filling your head. Xavier.. thinking about fucking you.. again.
It was even worse this time. At the table, he sat directly across from you, practically staring you down.
‘Ah… he’s so cute. Wish he’d look at me instead of her..’
You made sure to never glance his way.
‘He was blessed with such pouty lips… shit, I wanna bite them’
You pursed your lips heavily so it was just a thin line.
‘I’ve never seen him in a short sleeved shirt.. or shorts for that matter.. shit, why’s that hotter than him just showing himself off?’
You contemplated taking off your jacket but decided you just weren’t comfortable enough to do that. Oh well, you’d just let him have that perverse thought.
“So… (Name) and Xavier can take the pictures...”
“Excuse me?”
And here you were, forced to walk around the university taking pictures with just Xavier. Standing beside him, he was tall.. he practically dwarfed you. Briefly, you thought about seeing just how much size he had compared to you.
And it seemed Xavier was thinking the same thing.. although obviously, dirtier. Much to your dismay, his thoughts were filled with fucking you in the library (gross!).
“You’re so small… this bump in your belly is from me, yeah?” His inner self said, tracing his.. much larger hand across your stomach, lightly pressing down on the obvious bump from his cock.
You wanted to kill yourself. And the fact that you.. kinda.. sorta.. wanted to know if that would actually happen if he were to fuck you.. hey, it’s just curiosity!
You tried to push his perverse thoughts away and filled your head with your own thoughts.. though they kept going back to wondering if.. everything about him was big.
Though in your head, you knew he probably just liked you for sex. Nothing more. All of his thoughts on you have been about sex—you felt a little disappointed at that but brushed it off. At least someone thought you were sexy.
You bent down for a moment to take a picture of a group of squirrels when you heard the sound of the camera going off. You looked up and Xavier was looking away with a sheepish grin on his lips.
Did he.. take a picture of you? You shook your head. No way… you pushed the thoughts away and continued taking any picture that you could from the constantly moving animals when out of the corner of your eyes, you saw Xavier take a few pictures of you before turning around to take pictures of the nearby lake.
Holy shit.. he did! You moved a bit closer, wanting to see what he was thinking when he took those photos. But he wasn’t thinking. He was totally blank. It took a moment before he thought about anything.
‘I’m so fucking hungry… hope (Name) won’t mind if we take a break..’
Sure enough, Xavier asked if you guys could get something to eat. Soon you found yourself sitting across from him as he ate his cafeteria pizza
It looked fucking disgusting.
‘This is nasty… but I’m so hungry.’
You couldn’t help your snicker from his thoughts. Xavier looked up at you and raised an eyebrow, wondering what was so funny about him eating pizza.
It was mainly silent for the rest of time. You listened randomly to other people’s thoughts as Xavier’s seemed to just be about how nasty his pizza was.
“You dating anyone?”
“Huh?”
You look over at Xavier as he wipes his mouth clean with the back of his hand.
“Dating?”
“Uh… no. Why?”
Xavier only grinned and looked at camera, checking his photos that he took. That was the end of it but you could hear his thoughts.
‘Hm, he’s cute but I could’ve taken better ones.. ah, can’t wait to take nudes photos of him.’
You choked for a second, coughing heavily in shock. Xavier handed you his water and lightly patted your back.
‘Damn. He coughs a lot… would he cough like that if he deep throats my cock..?’
Well, his dirty thoughts were back. But you still really wondered, why the hell did he like you?
Your head was suddenly being filled with Xavier’s thoughts again. Mainly sex, of course. He seemed to really love sex in semi public areas.
In a weird idea, you listened to his fantasy closer, wanting to see how far he would go.
And.. it’s pretty far. Spanking seemed to be a favorite, judging by how he kept dreaming about spanking your ass. His hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing it lightly to earn your little whimpers.
But, something new was a dream in what you could only assume was his bedroom. He was doing something on his computer, playing a game maybe. But you were there on his lap but not in a normal way. You were sitting on one of his legs, his muscular leg, mind you.
You were rutting your clothed cock on it, maybe chasing your own release by how loud your whines were. But he wasn’t paying you any mind. He was just playing his game. A few times, he’d look at you and look as if he’d touch your aching cock but then just go back to his game.
It was like you were using him but even then he was in control.
And you liked that. Even though it was just a dream, you felt your real cock twitch in your jeans. Fuck, another boner.
“Liked it?” Xavier suddenly asked.
You looked up at him in shock, noticing just how close he was to you now. You parted your lips to ask what the hell he was talking about when he shamelessly pressed his hand against your growing boner, earning a gasp from you.
You couldn’t even control yourself as you bit your lip tightly to muffle your moans. Xavier’s hand so easily engulfed your cock, teasing it slowly. It was like he was trying to wake it up even more.. and you could only think about someone accidentally seeing this and the fact you wanted him to continue.
He leaned down and pressed his lips close your ears, to make sure only you heard what he had to say.
“I said… did you like it? It was really hard to think of a dream you’d like.. but I’m glad you like me being in control. It’s certainly my favorite.”
Mother fucker… he… he knows you could read his mind?!
Just who the fuck was this guy?
Heheh~ how was that? I wasn’t sure if i should go through with it but i think i like this turn of events. Sorry if this wasn’t as smut heavy, don’t worry, the next part will be 🤭
Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @mello-life69 @chill-guy-but-cooler @nakedtoasterr @kiiyoooo @ofclyde @smellwell @millecka @bowieisbored @iwishtobeacrow
(Ask to added to my tag list for all posts or just for part 3 of mind reader!)
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moondirti · 1 month
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Your ghostsoap x preg!reader!!??? I'm in love I need more of this. You have more thoughts for that universe? I just fell in love with your writing.
Let me camp in this corner of your blog, I'm friendly and don't bite (⁠~⁠ ̄⁠³⁠ ̄⁠)⁠~
they're all i've been able to think about all day. of course i have more to say <3 if you're curious, anon is referring to this, which should be read before this part.
tags: DARK FIC. manipulation. vehicle tampering. planned abduction. pregnant fem!reader. established ghostsoap – who are not the fathers but would definitely like to be. mentions of somnophilia
Delusional as they might be, it's hard to justify something as egregious as blunt-force kidnapping. Though it briefly occurs to Simon – to pluck you from the parking lot and drive off the hour after they decide to keep you – the logistics don't iron out. Of chief concern, you're six months pregnant. What they'd typically use for POW's thus become's inconsiderable for you; Johnny's the wiz, but even he knows the effects chloroform can have on a foetus. The alternative isn't any better, either – his partner just balks at the idea of tying you up and throwing you in the trunk. (She'll never git ower it, Si. Dae ye want her tae hate us?)
So, things unfold in a far subtler manner.
They go home that night they first meet you. Can't coordinate without resting on it, they rationalise, without scoping their place to assure it's suitable for their soon-to-be-mother. They tuck away the knives laying on random countertops, air out the quilts gifted to them by Johnny's ma in an attempt to make their room cozier. And when they sleep, they dream of you tucked in between them, knocked out, sex-drunk. Dressed in nothing but a shirt, cunt bared for either of them to toy with throughout the night.
Hours upon hours later, well into noon the next day, Simon wakes to find his boy rutting into his thigh, still somewhat comatose, and sneaks a rough hand into his boxers to tug the tension out of the poor thing. They only get up as the fissures of dusk begin to spread across the sky, loading their car with a toolbox and making the drive back to The Dahlia, staking out in the parking lot as they wait for you to arrive for your shift.
(Johnny had deployed the old charm as you brought out their food in two baggies last night, disguising the trap with a lilting laugh as he audibly wondered why you picked up such a late shift.
You’d only shrugged and said you preferred to work nights.)
Sure enough, you pull up in a beat-up Kia at 2200, fussing with your bag as you stumble to the back entrance of the roadhouse.
"Forgot to lock it." He mutters, following your form until it disappears from view. Johnny only frowns, tightening his fingers over his thumb. A little nervous tick.
"Should we be doin' this?"
"And what is this?" Simon turns to appraise the scotsman, larger hand enveloping his, calloused fingertips smoothing over scarred knuckles. "Y'think they'd be kinder to 'er? The type of scum we know grace this earth? It's a wonder she made i' this far, Johnny."
He isn't convinced.
"Look a' me." Blue eyes widen to meet his, dark as their owner battles intuitions that have always been straighter than the Ghosts'. "Wanna give 'er a good life, yeah?"
"Aye. The best."
"Would she be so convinced?" But he knows the answer. They both saw the way you withdrew after being hit on, losing the effusiveness you initially greeted them with. Avoidant. Classic case of hyper-competency, perhaps the very reason you put up with such shitty circumstances to begin with. A stubborn knot they'll have to undo themselves.
And Johnny likes the challenge.
"Lass's got something tae prove." Moments pass in silence. Then: "Ah’ll get th' wire."
"Atta' boy."
They only enter the establishment an hour before the end of your shift. It’s 0600 and space is sleepy. At a point that had escaped their notice, someone had made the choice to shut the overhead fluorescents, and so all that functions to illuminate the dinette is the pale dawn outside. Johnny finds he prefers it like this, grumbling a tired endorsement, before branching off in search of the bathroom, hand rubbing the sore column of his throat.
The softening mass in his pants jumps once Simon catches sight of you, balancing two trays in one hand as you wipe down the serving hatch. He doesn’t need to say anything. You catch the dark blur of him in the corner of your eye, shuffling into a booth, where he occupies an entire side with the mere spread of his legs.
“Hello again. Just you today?” You’re twirling your pen, cradling your belly, and he notes the perpetual shadow cast under your eyes. Poor pet.
He shakes his head, then cocks it toward the loo. “Think he’ll have a go at the toastie today.”
“Good choice. Hard to fuck up.” You give him a tired smile. “And for you?”
“M’good.”
“You sure? Look like you’ve been on the road again, and-" You pause, the water of your eyes rippling as you appraise his mask. Something seems to click just then, because you nod and tuck your notepad away. “I’ll ask again at the end. Maybe you’ll want something to-go.”
In the end, they do take something to go.
Not as greasy as the toastie Johnny spends the hour tearing into, glossing the pads of his fingers with oil. Nor as sour as the coffee he sipped on last night, burnt and way past freshness, just like you’d warned them about. But a much, much sweeter keepsake. Something that’ll sate them for much longer.
You’ve already clocked out once they leave The Dahlia, faces grim but as innocent as they can possibly muster. Sure enough, you’re out standing by your car, wiping tears with the back of your hand. They’re close enough that they can catch snippets of your conversation on the phone (No, I don’t– and It is old but never–).
They wait until you grow desperate, hiccuping – Don’t have that kind of money. Please – before intervening.
“Hey. What’s the matter, hen?” Johnny approaches first, concern no faux thing, smoothing a hand down your arm. What Simon said earlier comes back around (Wanna give 'er a good life?) and his chest tightens at the sheer despair he sees etched across your face. You shouldn’t be this stressed about anything this far along, should have someone taking care of you.
He, they, can be that for you. Could give you everything you ask for and more.
“M-my car. I-I don’t– I don’t know what’s wr-wrong with it, and–”
“Shhh, issalright. Not starting, eh?”
“No. And I have to- to get home before… before–”
Simon steps in, crowding you against the side of your car. You don’t have it in you to look for the red flags; the glances they throw one another, the subtle crinkle in the masked one’s eyes as he smiles. No, you don’t– can’t consider it dangerous. Not when these two wonderfully kind men, who tipped you 100% of their bill both times they came in, are one of your only means of getting help.
“Where do you live? We’ll drive ya if it’s on our way.” A lie. They’ll drive you regardless, and you won’t be taken home.
“Oh- no. That’s okay, really. I’ll just a-ask my boss if I can get a sub on my pay, and–”
Johnny smooths a finger across your cheek.
“Nonsense, hen. It’ll be a skoosh.”
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next part
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My person (Charles Leclerc)
Your brother's best friend is sure you were made for eachother
Note: english is not my first language. Most times I read a brother's best friend trope, it's usually the reader going after the boy, so I felt like doing things a little bit different (also, my brain got a bit jumbled because I was wondering about the perspective, and in the end I went with reader being Joris' twin). Also, I always feel a little bit of impostor's syndrome whenever I post these tropes for which I've read many great pieces about it, and I never know if my ones are good enough to be posted but we're going with it
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog
Most people thought having a twin brother was bitter sweet because while you had to share everything since the womb, you had a brother so there came a time where you wanted to have different toys, different rooms and different styles.
Different friends, however, was never a question. Even with different interests, you and Joris often came as a duo, so both of your friend groups were pretty close.
"We're going to Charles' apartment to watch the football game, are you joining us?", Joris asked, throwing himself on your sofa and partially occupying your personal space, "Marta is going to be over and I think she's taking Chiara with her, too".
You don't remember a time where Charles wasn't in your life. Your brother knew him since they were in kindergarten and so there wasn't a memory where he wasn't involved. Which brought you to the last time you were with him, just a week before.
Charles spent the afternoon with Joris at your brother's apartment, wanting to relax and game for the rest of the day.
"It's Y/N", Charles said as he gave Joris his ringing phone, your caller ID prompting him to pick the calk up right away, "can you come and get me, please?", he heard you faintly as Joris got up straight away, listening to whatever you were telling as he put on his trainers and jacket.
"Y/N needs me to pick her up from the café - turns out her date thought she wouldn't mind going home on her own", Joris rolled his eyes, "it will be quick, you're good on your own here?", he checked with Charles, "sure", the driver assured, unpausing the game and carrying on.
Another date and another disappointment for you, Charles thought. While you weren't as close as his brother was to him, he still knew about your life as much as your other friends, and lately you had been looking for someone, your person, you claimed. Luck had yet to join your search as every date you went on seemed to go between bad and awful.
If he had the courage to come clean about his feelings, maybe things would be different. For a while, yes, you were Joris' twin sister and that was it. You were a cool girl and he didn't mind spending time with you or having your hang out with their group, but things changed when you went to university.
Maybe it was your glow up, although you never needed one to catch his eye in the first place, but year after year, you grew to exude confidence, your natural beauty enhanced as you turned into a charming, caring and kind young woman.
Since he didn't want to ruin the bond you had, he watched it all happen from the sidelines. How happy you sounded whenever you had a date later in the week, whenever a cute guy came up to you in the club and how you squealed "I think this one might be the one!" as you excused yourself and declined dinner invitations from the group for a date.
He heard the door open and then close, footsteps approaching the living room as he paused the game just in time for you to sit on the sofa, "what's up, Leclerc?", you nudged his shoulder.
"I'm good, how are you?", he quesioned, "I guess that one isn't the love of your life either?", he semi joked.
"He was certifiable, at the very least", you began as the boys chuckled, "Hey! I'm qualified to make such appreciation! He kept talking about himself and he was borderline sexist, but then he said I would be fine going home on my own? I don't know, it was a mess and I can't believe I even experienced that - I'm going to pretend it was a fever dream", you shrugged your shoulders, "I was expecting to spend the afternoon with him - thank Goodness I didn't, - and the construction work at my place is still going so I don't have anywhere to go, I'm sorry if I'm crashing your afternoon", you gulped.
"It's fine, it's nice having company other than us two playing and screaming at eachother", Charles smiled as Joris shrugged his shoulders, "you're already staying her until the building work is done", you brother offered.
"I wasn't asking you, silly; you're my twin, dealing with me it's something that comes with the job", you winked.
When it came to dinner time, the three of you decided to have take out, your brother calling the restaurant and scheduling a time for him to pick it up, "I'm going to shower", you said as you got up from the sofa, heading to the guest room you were staying in.
By the time you got out, your heard Joris shout that he was leaving while you put on some comfy clothes for the evening in. When you went to the balcony so your towels could air dry for a bit, you sat in the padded chair, looking out to the sunset.
He would come, you thought. It wasn't particularly a manifestation or a "throw it at the universe" kind of thing, but rather something to reassure yourself. You were worthy of the standards you set for yourself and there was someone out there for you, and he would come.
"Hey", Charles stepped into the balcony, coming to sit in the chair next to yours, "a cent for your thoughts?", he smiled softly, the warm yellow and orange light hitting his eyes in a glowy hue.
"Do you believe that the right person for you is out there?", you shot softly.
"I know she is", Charles gulped, "Oh, confident!", you giggled softly, "but it's nice, better than being sulky like me".
"I'm not sure how much better it is. I know she is out there, but it's a little more complicated than just going up to her and tell her that", he played with hia thumbs.
"So you're chickening out?", you quirked your eyebrow, partly teasing him but genuinely curious about it. You didn't have enough fingers to count how many girls tried to approach you and befriend you with the only goal of getting into a friendship circle that would lead them to Charles, and he could probably chat up anyone he wanted, so it was hard for you to understand how he didn't have the love of his life with him yet.
"It's not chickening out if you think it might cause some issues with your friends, I think. I'm being prudent, that's all", Charles tried, wanting to take the opportunity to try and see where you stood. Girls were usually sharper than guys, so you said many times, maybe you'd take the hint.
"If I knew who the love of my life was, I would go to him and never look back. I know it sounds silly, but I wouldn't want to be away from him a second longer, it would be quite shitty if he was in a relationship", you mused, "but if we were really meant to be together - if it was a both ways kind of thing - he would know it, right? Goodness, sound a bit like a romantic sop, don't I?", you chuckled, "but I would fight for him, for us".
Charles felt inspired before he felt a little angry. Here you here saying you would fight until you found your person when he was right there. If it really worked as a both ways thing, you'd have to know and feel the person you kept looking for was him. He broke into a full belly laugh as he stated at you. No make-up, hair sitting in its natural wave and comfy clothes, you never looked so beautiful to him.
"Would you let me fight for us, too?", he mused quietly but loud enough for you to hear, "would you want me to do that?".
Giggling at him, you could only shake your head at his words, "I know this sound silly - Joris teases me enough about it enough", you groaned as your hands covered your face.
"I'm not joking or teasing", Charles clarified, turning to face you on the chair, "All I want is for you to look at me the way you look at them", Charles stated, "whenever you talk about your dates before you go on them, you're so hopeful that that guy will be the one, you look forward to it like it will be that time, and you never looked at me that way when I constantly make efforts to hung the stars and the moon for you and stand there hoping they get to you".
His confession took you off guard. Charles just admitted he liked you, in a way with words that was more elaborate than what any of your dates had ever told you combined.
"I thought you were being nice?! Was this some sort of plan?!", you quesioned immediately. He had been around you your whole life, you surely would've noticed it, wouldn't you?
Charles chuckled in a way you found a smidge belittling, "it wasn't a plan! Y/N, I have not been planning this or doing some strategy, it just happened out of nowhere!", Charles bit back, "like you said, the person for me is out there and she's you!".
The noise from the door pulled both of you out your discussion, your brother's singalong voice announcing he was back with the food.
Dusting your sweatpants, you stepped back inside the living room, shaking off the jitters you had as your brother scrunched up his face, "is everything okay?", he asked.
"Of course, I'm just hungry and you drove like a grandpa here", you bickered back as Charles joined you at the table, "I'll get the cutlery and plates from the kitchen", you mumbled.
The dinner was eaten quietly on your side, Charles and Joris making most of the conversation as you exchanged a few looks with the Formula One driver, your twin brother seemingly obvious as he carried on as usual, "I'm going to bed", you said after helping tidy, "are you sure? We were going to watch something on TV?", Joris asked you.
"I'm getting a headache, so I'll pass, good night boys", you gave them tight lipped smile.
In the bedroom, you changed into your pyjamas and finished your night-time routine and got under the sheets, Charles' words replaying as you looked at the ceiling.
"Y/N? Are you joining us or not? Do you have any plans?", Joris insisted, "you've been weird lately", he pointed out.
"I'll join you, yes, just need to get my hoodie and then I'll be good to go", you scrambled out as your heart beat faster inside your chest.
Joris offered to drive to Charles' apartment, getting there when Riccardo, Marta and little Chiara were alresdy inside with Charles.
"The rest of the group couldn't come, so it's just us", Riccardo said as he noticed your expression, "what a shame, more food for us!", you smirked, sitting next to Marta and playing with the little girl on her lap, "hello, my love, hello!", you cooed in the voice you only had for babies, "look at you so grown up! You get more beautiful everytime I see you", you smiled, tickling her chin softly as she giggled loudly.
"Who did the roast potatoes last time we got together?", Joris stepped back into the living room, "I did", you stated as you grabbed one of the toys on the coffee table, ready to sit down on the floor so you and Chiara could play together.
"Don't sit down!", your brother yelled, "sorry, but you can't sit down - Charles needs help with the potatoes and he doesn't know the recipe like you do", he reasoned as you got up, trying not to show how much you didn't want to be in the same room alone with Charles. Watching football while having dinner with your group of friends was one thing, spending one on one time with Charles after what he said to you the last time was another.
"Hey", you said as you stepped into the kitchen, "Joris said you needed help, what can I do?".
Charles smiled a little, maybe at the irony of your quesion, "I don't know what seasonings to use in these", he said as he showed you the vegetable with the ones he already cut up.
"Okay, do you keep the spices in the same place?", you asked as he nodded, encouraging you to use his kitchen like it was your own.
Opening the cabinets and grabbing what you needed, you started mixing the ingredients and cutting up the ones you needed to, "can you get me the olive oil, please? I can't reach it", you asked and Charles complied, "thank you".
"Is this how this is going to be? Interacting like we haven't known eachother since we were little and like I haven't poured my heart out to you?", Charles said, arms crossed as he rested against the kitchen counter.
"I wasn't counting on you saying all of that, I was so caught off guard that I haven't been able to think about anything else in my off time!", you offered, setting the knife down on the chopping board.
"It's not like people have speeches ready and give of warnings when they're about to confess their feelings for someone... I myself wasn't expecting to do it until the words came out of my mouth", Charles gestured as if he was vomiting, "what do you expect it to be like anyway? People have to warn you they have feelings for you and ask if you want to hear it?! Is that what you want?".
"I want to feel loved, appreciated and valued. I want to be with someone that reminds me that I'm beautiful, that I'm smart and I'm wonderful. I want to share my life with someone who has no trouble with me wanting to have both career goals and family goals, I want someone who supports me as much as a support him, who is willing to do silly things because I enjoy them and who loves me for me, flaws and all", you let out in one go, "That's what I want".
Charles eyebrows climbed on his forehead, "Are you insinuating I can't give you that? Is that why we haven't spoken since that evening at Joris' place?".
"I'm saying you're my brother's best friend, and no matter how much I think you can do it - because you make me feel like that just from being my friend, imagine if we were dating -, I don't want to risk whatever we have, all of us", you gestured to the living room where the rest of the group was.
"Y/N", Charles pleaded, "you don't think I've thought about that? I didn't do it on a whim like you think I did, I've been sitting on this for quite a while, actually", he clarified, "I will respect whatever you decide, okay? But can't just sit and pretend that you don't want this thing between you and me as much as I do, because we could be so good-", he was interrupted as Marta crossed the corner and stepped inside the kitchen, "Charles, can I heat Chiara's soup on the microwave?", she asked with the small tupperware on her hands.
"Sure, here", he guided her as you resumed to seasoning the potatoes, putting them on the tray and then in the oven, "the game is about to start, hurry up!", Joris yelled.
"I'll just wash this, and that too", you took the tupperware's lid as well as the utensils you needed for the dressing.
"I need to cool it down a little, maybe in a bigger bowl", Marta said as Charles helped in getting the bowl from the cupboard as you set the utensils aside to dry, "Merci, Charles, off we go then", she said as she waited for you both to leave and go to the living room so she could follow you.
"Come here, sweet cheeks", you clapped at Chiara, taking her away from your brother's arms and putting her in the highchair so she could eat comfortably, "auntie Y/N is going to give you your delicious soup, yummy yummy", you smiled.
Charles couldn't help but take in the sight, how you made Chiara feel like she was the only person in the world as you smiled and spoke to her, finding a million and one ways to get her to eat the soup in the bowl.
The food was ready by the half-time break, so you all helped with bringing the food to the table, eating it as the team you were supporting ended up winning the game.
"She's knocked out", you pointed out to Riccardo, Chiara asleep in the little makeshift cot you made on the sofa with some pillows and blankets to make sure she was warm and secure.
"We can clean up, you guys go home and take this little princess to sleep in her own bed", Charles smiled, stroking the little girl's cheek softly as he watched her peaceful expression.
"You don't mind?", Marta wondered as the three of you nodded, helping the parents gather their daughter's belongings so they could leave, hoping she wouldn't wake up and make it harder for her to fall back asleep.
"Sweet dreams, petite fleur", you cooed as Marta cuddled Chiara into her chest, squeezing her small hand softly before they walked out of the door.
"These need to go on the dishwasher", you sorted through the plates and checked if they were safe to go on the machine as your brother help you.
"We should probably get going", Joris said, not wanting to overstay your welcome, "do you need anything else, Charles? Otherwise, me and Y/N will leave you to it", he said.
"Actually, me and Charles need to talk, if that's okay", you looked at the driver, catching him by surprise before he nodded in agreement.
Joris didn't dwell too much on it like you thought he would, "so you need me to come and pick you up or...?", he trailed before Charles saved you, "don't worry, I've got her", he stated.
When Charles accompanied your twin brother to the door, he was blunt and honest, "She's my sister, but there could be worse guys than you", Joris offered as Charles narrowed his eyes, "Oh, please, do you think I'm that blind? I've seen the way you look at her and how you always go above and beyond for her - she's just being too stubborn about it to see it, too. Still, if you ever break her heart or cause her any tears of sadness and anger, you're going to wish I didn't know so much about you", he threatened, although it didn't go as planned as they both laughed, "I trust you, there wasn't anyone I would trust like this", he sighed, "you're just lucky you have brothers, otherwise I might've taken revenge on you", he nudged his shoulder.
"I bet Lorenzo would enjoy a cuddle every now and again if you'd like", Charles giggled before he showed his seriousness again, "I just want this to work out between us, I think she's my person, you know?", he mused, realising how cliché and whipped he sounded, "I'll take care of her, you don't need to worry", he assured.
Charles closed the door and walked back to the living room where you sat down on the sofa, legs covered with one of the blankets, "I- thank you for staying back", he smiled, pointing with his eyes to the spot next to you silently asking if he could sit.
You opened the blanket so he could sit next to you and you could both keep warm, "I want to apoligise for not saying anything the last time we spoke, and for how I've handled this", you began, "I'm sorry, Charles", you said earnestly.
"Apology accepted", he nodded, "and did you just stay here to apoligise?", he quesioned.
"I- I thought we could have a date, sort of anyway", you mumbled, "and I could also tell you how I feel about you since it seems I owe you that with what you've told me", you looked into his eyes, "it wasn't that you were ever off bounds or anything like that, I never cared for those supposed rules, but it never occurred to me", you blurted and Charles quirked a brow, "shoot, that's not what I meant, ugh", you grunted as he soothingly rubbed your thigh, "what I meant is I always thought you'd never look at me that way - I'm Joris' twin - so I just took all of the affection I had for you and put it in a friendship feelings and all of the things you did for me, I thought you were just being nice because you're a nice guy", you clarified.
"Does this mean you're letting me treat you like you deserve? Because I plan on making sure you feel and know you're wonderful every single day", he smiled charmingly, confident words contrasting with his shy attempt of lacing your fingers together on his lap.
"How can you be so sure we are eachother's person?", you couldn't help but mumble, even if the butterflies in your stomach were dancing like they hadn't been in a long time, "I just know, and I'll help you see it, too", he smiled, kissing your knuckles before he pulled you to his chest, finding something to watch on the TV.
You both watched reruns of one of your favourite shows, pointing out little details you loved and talking about any topic that came to mind, and once Charles' body warmth and his touches along your arm caught up to your system and lulled you to sleep, your head finding it's spot on his chest as he smiled down at you, your beauty never ceasing to amaze him as he noticed every mole, freckle and scar on your face from up close.
Even if he didn't want to move, and that it wouldn't be the first time he slept on his sofa, he reasoned that he should at least offer you his bed. Softly stroking your cheek, he coaxed you to wake up, "I'm sorry for waking you up, but we can't sleep here", he whispered, kissing the side of your head, "you can sleep in my bed, I'll take the sofa", he offered as you stretched a little bit, removing yourself from his chest.
"If you promise you won't do any funny business, we can sleep in the same bed", you yawned.
"Of course I won't, Y/N! I would never do anything you didn't want to, I-", Charles panicked, not wanting you to think he was trying to take advantage of you.
"I'm only kidding, I know you won't", you assured, arms pulling him to stand up with you as you walked to the bedroom after turning everything off, "I trust you, Charles, completely", you smiled.
To him, it meant the world.
You felt his heart race when your hand landed on his chest, "I need a t-shirt, though, this is not comfy to sleep in", you reasoned as he looked for one on his drawers, "here, you can get ready here while I get ready in the bathroom", he smiled, kissing the top of your head before he stepped inside the ensuite.
After you swapped so you could brush your teeth, you were both undoing the bed, pulling the sheets back over you and having eachother.
"I really want to kiss you right now, but I don't want to cross any boundaries", Charles admitted as your heart raced in your chest, "I'd really like that, you can kiss me if you want", you consented.
Charles leaned to rub your nose in his before kissing your lips softly, allowing you both to revel in the feelings that had been put in labelled boxes at the back of your minds.
Parting your lips to breathe, you cupped Charles' cheek, your palm tickling from his facial hair as your thumb rubbed his skin, "I think you might be right", you mumbled, licking your lips, "about what?", he mused, "about the fact that you'll help me see it too", you smiled.
The next morning, you woke up with Charles looking at you, "Good morning, Y/N", he greeted, "See? I didn't pull any funny business", he wiggled his brows chuckling.
This was a sight you could get used to.
"Good morning", you smiled, "did you sleep well?", you wondered, pulling closer to him now that you were awake.
"I did, did you?", he asked and you nodded, cuddling closer to him and basking in the feeling of just being there.
"We are going to take this as slow as you want", Charles whispered against your forehead, leaving little kisses and pecks on your skin, "but I want you to know I'm all in".
"I'm all in, too", you whispered, "I can't promise you it will be a straight line - or that I won't spiral out every now and again because hey, it's me -, but I feel really good about this, you make me feel really good", you blushed as you kissed between his eyebrows, "having said this, not all of us have the day to do some training and sim racing, and I'm one of them. I have to go home to change and then head to the clinic", you pouted slightly.
"How about I make us some breakfast first, then I'll drop you off?", he suggested, stealing a peck from your lips, "hmm, sounds good", you hummed.
.
"Were you expecting us to be surprised?", Marta said as she and her family arrived in Charles' yacht, the three of them seeing you and Charles kissing at the table.
Throwing your head back in laughter as Charles walked up to help them inside, you shielded your eyes from the sun with your hand, "at least pretend you are", you joked.
"Oh my Goodness, I never thought you two would become a thing? Does this mean we can finally stop hearing your disgraced love life stories and Charles' complaints about who you went on a date with?", Riccardo belted out, catching the attention from a couple on the yacht next to the one you were sitting on.
"To be fair, that's how I noticed it", Marta began, "Charles didn't complain anymore about how he was alone and that the universe wasn't working on his favour", she smirked, greeting you two.
"We have been keeping it down low just to see how things would go", you blushed at getting caught and steering the conversation elsewhere once Chiara babbled at you, "Oh, baby girl, hello!", you cooed, pulling her into your arms.
"Soon enough you can get one of those, I bet your kid would be very very cute", Riccardo nudged Charles' shoulder, loving that the group now could have a few teasing moments and themes at your expense, all in good fun.
"What a warm welcome!", you heard your brother yell, a fake angry and ironic tone noticeable in his voice, "First, no one is here to greet me with a glass of something to drink or even a helping hand to step in", Joris clarified, "then I'm presented with a conversation about my sister's and my best friends sex life, which I don't want to know about by the way!!", he said as he came up to you, kissing the side of your head, "I'm happy she's happy, and that you're all happy together, but no talking about that, please!".
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cipheramnesia · 4 months
Note
I saw you tagged the post re: X with 'stop joining Bluesky' -- can I ask why that is?
Because Twitter has always been a godawful form of social media, news, and networking. Elon Musk turned it into something unusable but in its usable state it had and continues to have an appalling effect on complex ideas and nuanced information. The nature of its character limit forced everything to a reductive sound-bite which effectively enshittified information propagation online, and its enshrinement as the "official" social media site for any person or entity to issue information or communication through dragged everyone down into the same level of garbage communication and analytical skills.
A website like Bluesky which only has "the same interface as Twitter prior to Elon Musk" as a selling point, isn't better for anyone. A short form character limited blogging site is fine as a gimmick and okay for simple person to person communication, which was more or less the original purpose of Twitter. It's absolutely shit for a central hub site for global information. The idea that Twitter's short form format and layout made it useful and popular needs to die immediately. The idea that information should be shared universally in short bites needs to die immediately.
What happened with Twitter, not with Elon Musk's purchase, but from the instant it gained media dominance, is fucking horrible, possibly one of the worst things to happen to online communication in its entirety. Go anywhere you want to get away from X, but for all that is good and hopeful in the world do not put any version of whatever constitutes your "personal official online presence" onto any site resembling any iteration of Twitter.
There is a window of opportunity to finally, finally be free from what Twitter did, but it is closing fast. I don't think very many people remember what it has been like watching information literacy collapsing in real time around Twitter, and I don't think there is much hope of killing that format, and I don't think it's going to solve every problem. But if somehow we do find a way to drive a stake not just through Twitter itself but the foundational ideals it represents, we will have made forward progress.
Kill the idea of Twitter that lives in your head. Don't reproduce the same mistakes just because it's familiar to use. For all our sakes, tweets must die.
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peachsayshi · 18 days
Note
Hello can I request a part 5 for the inexperienced reader where they finally do the deed? Thank you and I really love all your writings. You’re amazing!
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✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ playboy geto x inexperienced female reader (part 4) ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
wc: 7,712
·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰ previous parts: 1/2/3/4
minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.
notes: hi, nonnie! I haven't posted the official part 4 for playboy geto x reader, so here is an update! part 5 is the final part of this mini series and I am still figuring out the scenario for the big moment. I had this idea in my head and really wanted to write out. I hope you enjoy the update!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags: other jjk characters are mentioned, virgin reader; lovesick geto & reader; hurt/comfort; the first fight; making up; smut; oral (f receiving); nipple play; overstimulation; fingering; practice makes perfect *wink wink*
There’s a downpour outside - a peaceful shower trapping you in a cocoon of stillness. Grey clouds collide, orchestrating a rumble of thunder to disperse across the horizon. You squeeze the glass of tea in your hand and breathe out a heavy sigh as you continue observing the waves crashing onto the shore in the distance.
Standing in pensive thought, you find yourself contemplating why the sky isn’t a saturated blue, and why you are not wiping away grains of sand between your toes while tasting the salt in the air and getting kissed by the sun in the red bikini that you are wearing.
This is your first weekend away with Suguru and it was supposed to be perfect…magical even, but…
You haven’t exchanged more than a few of sentences with him in two whole days.
The truth forms as a discomforting lump in your throat. At this point you’re convinced that the turbulent events of this week is what conjured up such a dreadful storm to hijack your mini vacation, and you’ve been a bundle of nerves ever since because you’ve never had a fight with him before.
Not a real one, anyway.
Whenever a situation got remotely tense, your boyfriend would be the first person to jump in to talk things out. Suguru hated having petty arguments and always relied on strong communication to put out any fires before they set everything ablaze. You know it’s entirely unfair to put that expectation on him but, the truth is, you’ve grown used to him mediating, and depended on him to squash potential disagreements without question.
What you weren’t expecting was for things to escalate between you two because it’s never happened before, and now you aren’t sure how to proceed.
What if he leaves me?
The nauseating thought of a potential break up twists your gut, but you brush off your anxiety as you lift the cup to your lips and take another sip of soothing chamomile.
Couples fight, you think, it’s normal to fight.
Your fingers pinch the ceramic so hard, you feel it might crack from the pressure. You’ve tried to reach out since then, but Suguru remained unresponsive to your little gestures of peace.
Why is he still ignoring me?
You lean your head against the window and exhale, eyes fixated on the storm’s dramatic performance. A bolt of lighting crackles across the sky, channeling you back to the night on Suguru’s sofa just two weeks prior.
His fingers were trailing the outline of your thigh, keeping your body tucked perfectly into his frame. You were twirling a strand of his onyx hair between your fingers, listening to him proposition the idea of the weekend trip away.
“Yuki is one of my oldest friends. She lives in a beach house, so that’s where we will all stay…” he casually stated. “We visit her a couple of times a year, and I know she would love to meet you.”
You said yes without hesitation.
At the time, there was no need for you to question who Yuki was or how Suguru knew her. There was no need for you to pry deeper into the memories of his past because you were just living in the bubble of present happiness.
“We used to spend every summer at her beach house while I was in university,” Suguru informed you a few days later, slipping in that tidbit of information right after describing all the places he was excited to take you to. “I love that her beach house is so far away from the city. Plus, they have the best soba in the village. You’ll love it, I just know you will…”
This deep infatuation you shared for Suguru had your heart swelling up more often around him. Your valves were arrows to a compass that always spun directly towards him, your shining North Star. Your eyes were glazed over in a rosy shine of deep romance, making it hard for you to blink away the hue of its affection, but you should have taken a breath to catch yourself.
Maybe then you wouldn’t have reacted so harshly later on.
The ”problem”, as Suguru dubs it, happened two days before the trip.
Shoko invited you to join her and Utahime on a shopping date to pick up some new swim suits for the occasion. However, you weren’t expecting to see Mei Mei upon arrival. Your friendship with Shoko made it easier for you to blend in with the rest of Suguru’s group, but Mei always kept you at an arm’s length. For the most part, you approached any interactions with her with caution. You made sure you were nice and didn’t try to pursue anything beyond cordial conversations. Despite your attempts at playing cool, Mei continued making snide remarks about you being “Suguru’s Girl” and enjoyed addressing you condescendingly.
Truthfully, she treated you as if you were simply a stranger with one foot out the door and not the person who was in a committed relationship with her friend.
Your eyes, powdered with pink infatuation, had you feeling indifferent about her sharp tongue on this particular outing, and it made you loosely speak up about how excited you were to go on this trip with your boyfriend.
Your walls were completely down when Mei went in with a new attack while you were all having dinner together.
“It’s adorable how excited you are. Besides, I think it’s about time that you met Kiki…” she giggled, earning a glare from both Shoko and Utahime.
“Kiki?” you replied like a naive child, all wide eyed with an innocent pinch between your brow.
“Suguru didn’t tell you?” Mei coos as she proceeds to take a sip of her milkshake. “That’s his special nickname for Yuki. The two of them used to spend their summers together getting high and fucking. She was his first, you know…”
Your cheeks were stinging with embarrassment. You glanced over to both Shoko and Utahime, praying that one of them would denounce Mei’s confession.
Instead, Shoko shook her head with disapproval and simply added, “we all know that it wasn’t serious…”
“Wasn’t serious?” Mei interjected, her cruel eyes fixed on you. “Suguru was in love with her…”
“He wasn’t in love with her,” Shoko sternly answered. “They were friends. Don’t make up stories in your head”
Mei swirled her straw around her vanilla milkshake. “We are his friends too but that didn’t stop him from hooking up with us either. The only difference is that Yuki is the one who broke his heart afterwards. Suguru didn’t speak to her for an entire year...”
“How about you don’t stir up problems for no reason, Mei.” Utahime bit back, and Mei responded by rolling her eyes with mild disinterest.
“I’m not saying anything that isn’t true. Everyone at this table, except Shoko, hooked up with Suguru at one point,” she let out a pretty laugh, one laced with wicked intent. “Maybe this is something we can all bond over at the beach house. Compare notes and what not…”
“How about we dial back the bitchy attitude and put the subject to rest” Shoko interjected, and Mei merely huffed before sipping her milkshake with nonchalance.
Hot, heavy jealousy coiled around your skin, and you used every ounce of restraint not to pick up Mei’s drink and toss it right in her face. By the time your brain was able to connect the dots to formulate even a single sentence, the conversation swiftly moved onto another subject.
You reached for your soda, slurping the icy beverage in an attempt to cool yourself off.
This isn’t the first time that Suguru’s friends have made teasing comments about his past, but Mei took it too far.
The worst part about that god-awful interaction is that it was working out in her favor.
Why didn’t Suguru tell you?
The question sat in your head up until you returned home. You were in a bitter state, choosing to curb Suguru’s calls and ignore Shoko’s messages.
She still called you the next morning with a heartfelt apology.
“We’ve all known Mei for years so we put up with her attitude,” Shoko explained, “But you owe her no allegiance and what she did was uncalled for. I’m really sorry about that…”
“It’s fine, Shoko…” you insisted, but your tone was hard and defensive because it wasn’t fine and you barely got any sleep thinking about what she said.
“I had a long conversation with her last night, and she’ll be backing off from now on,” Shoko consoled.
“Great,” you answered through gritted teeth, trying your best not to hurl the phone at the wall.
“Look,” Shoko added on with a sigh, “I know Suguru doesn’t have the best track record and I know we all give him shit for it, but we also all know that we’ve been too hard on him. He really, really cares about you.”
Tears pricked your eyes. You wished those words were enough to sway you back but they felt just as empty as the space in your chest.
Why didn’t he tell me?
You couldn't stop wondering why.
The day before you left for the getaway, you were giving Suguru the coldest shoulder. He had come over to help you pack your things, but instead was left puzzled by your behavior.
You leaned away from his kisses, always tilting so he aimed for your cheek. You shrugged off his touch, pretending to busy yourself with searching through your closet and picking your outfits. You could feel his piercing stare from over your shoulder, those dark eyes dissecting the softest parts of you to get to the root of the problem. You tried to focus on the music from gently playing through the speakers, but as you walked over to your bag to pack another dress, Suguru quickly reached for your hips to drag you onto his lap.
“What’s wrong?” he asked seriously, his voice the tip of a sharp blade pressing into your heart.
You shook your head, caressing the fabric between your fingers. “Nothing, I have a headache,” you repeated firmly, sticking to the same excuse that you had given him earlier.
“Sweetheart,” he replied tenderly, your body stiffening when he brushed his lips over your shoulder to leave a contemplative kiss. “What’s actually wrong?”
You froze, your anger scalding your insides as it bubbled to the surface. You squeeze the dress between your hands, creasing the smooth surface. Suguru rests his chin on your shoulder, patiently waiting for you to at least acknowledge him.
“Is it true that you were involved with “your friend” Yuki?”
You hid your hurt with sarcasm, her name rolling off your tongue with a hint of disgust.
Suguru lifted his head from your chin, his fingers pinching against the fat of your hip while his other hand moved to reach for your jaw. He angled your face towards him, a pained expression masking over his breathtaking features.
“Who told you?”
“Mei,” you answered sharply, “apparently Shoko and Utahime know all about it too…”
“Look,” Suguru sighed, “it’s…it’s not what you think…”
“Did you to spend your summers getting high and fucking?” you interrupted harshly, mimicking the cruelty in Mei’s voice as you posed your question.
Suguru closed his eyes. “Yes.”
“Is it true that she was your first?” you asked, your voice wavering slightly this time.
“Yes, but…”
You rolled your tear soaked eyes as you stood up on your feet, tossing the dress into your bag as you folded your arms across your chest to give Suguru your back.
You weren’t sure what hurt more. The fact that Mei had all the ammunition in the world to hurt your feelings, or that she knew that your doting boyfriend would keep this from you.
Suguru stood up, carefully approaching you from behind as he extended his hand out to find your waist once more.
“Mei’s a gossip,” he contended, “I told you that when we first met…”
You spun on your heel to meet his anxious stare, drilling your fury right into him.
“That’s not the point,” you argued. “The point is that you lied to me! The point is that you spent weeks going on and on about “your friend” without even warning me that you were both intimately involved…”
“We put that shit behind us years ago. I didn’t want to bring it up, and I didn’t think I had to. Mei shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Didn’t think you had to?” you repeated with confusion.
“There was no reason to,” he replied with annoyance, his fingers digging into your waist. “Because you and I are supposed to trust each other, and considering how things have been going between us, I thought we did.”
Your heart raced at the fact that Suguru was still keeping his mouth tight lipped over what happened with Yuki, which did little to help your own dramatized theories on their relationship.
If he was being secretive about something as serious as this, then who knows what other tales he might have been spinning with that honeyed mouth of his.
The knot that’s wrung itself around your mind finally snapped.
“Easy for you to say, you don’t have an inventory of people I slept with to keep track of…”
Suguru winced, the involuntary grimace an unusual sign of hurt. Your apology shot to the tip of your tongue, and you were ready to jump right into his arms and plead for forgiveness. This brutish commentary was so unlike you, but you didn’t know how to keep a handle on your own insecurities this time around.
“Keep track, huh?” he answered softly, the faintest hint of distress coming through and making you nip at your bottom lip out of guilt. “Must be hard having a boyfriend who is so used up…”
“No...you're not. That's not what I mean, I’m…I’m just saying that it’s different,” you retracted, easing your delivery to try and explain yourself. “You just don’t have to worry-”
“Is there a reason for you to worry?” he rebuked, quirking his brow in genuine surprise.
You scoffed, “You told me about everyone else you’ve been involved with but with her you are suddenly keeping quiet-”
“Please, tell me you’re fucking joking right now-“
“You can’t-” you interjected, clearing the catch in your throat as your voice warbled uncomfortably. “You can’t just expect me to be okay with this, Suguru. I have to be able to trust you and that’s only going to work if you are honest with me. Keeping something like this from me doesn’t help…”
Suguru dropped his hand away from your waist, and folded them over his chest tightly. There was a twitch in his jaw, and the disappointment in his eyes spoke volumes. You both stood there in silence, studying the other in deep concentration.
“I thought you did trust me. You were practically naked in bed with me when you said it. So what is it then? Do you trust me or not?”
Your face grew increasingly hot recalling his birthday, the way you were soft, vulnerable and pliable sprawled out against his chest...
“I do…” you replied with very little confidence. “Sort of…”
You swallowed your regret to stare down at your feet shamefully, and allowing your pride to fight the battle for you. If you can waver his insecurity even a little then maybe you might find some equal footing with the discomfort.
“I can’t change my past. I can’t erase the people I’ve been involved with. Yes, we both had different opinions about how we viewed relationships, but we aren’t going last long as a couple if I’m the only one that has faith that this is going to work,” Suguru informed calmly, using his fingers to gesture between you both.
Hearing those words from your lover’s lips felt like surprise blow. You parted your mouth to exhale quietly, clenching your hands tightly by your side as you naively waited for him to attempt to turn things around.
“I’ve given you everything. I’m not going to force you to trust me,” Suguru adds on, his tone morphing into a cold, cruel note. “And if you fucking can’t, then I’m done.”
Your head shot up in surprise, the front of your brows upturning sorrowfully but Suguru had already turned on his heel to walk out of the room, slamming your bedroom door right behind him.
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The car ride to the beach house was terrible.
Neither you or Suguru said a single word to one another. He kept his focus on the road, while you kept replaying the words “I’m done” on repeat in your head.
It was disappointing to start off on such a sour note because Yuki’s beach house was the perfect getaway spot as Suguru described. The location was rural, and the building was quaint and cozy. The size is big enough to fit your entire group, but not to the point where it was gaudy. Suguru mentioned that the property belonged to Yuki’s mom, which she eventually inherited after she passed away.
Meeting Yuki took your breath away. From the moment you laid eyes on her you understood how a young Suguru would be infatuated. She was striking - tall, with long, golden hair that cascaded all the way down to her butt. Every part of her was perfect, from her toned tummy revealed by her short black cropped top, to her legs that seemed to go on forever which were covered in only a pair of loose denim shorts. She had a naturally cheeky grin, like there was something up her sleeve that no one could quite point out, and sharp brown eyes that were simply inviting.
She pulled Suguru in for a warm hug, and ruffled his hair like a sister would.
“Sug! Your hair’s getting long! I like it!” she chirped with a big smile, while Suguru held an effortlessly casual stance to play off that the two of you haven’t been ignoring each other this whole time. Yuki instantly turned to face you, “And you must be the girl that stole his heart! I’m so glad to meet you! This guy never shuts up about you…”
You felt small against her, and it wasn’t just due to her height. You could feel yourself shrinking into your own shame hearing her talk about your lover. Whatever doubts that sparked due to Mei’s burning statements were quickly turned to ash.
Yuki gave you a house tour and explained that Shoko was sharing a room with Mei and Utahime, while Satoru and Nanami bunked in another.
“If you’re comfortable you can stay in Suguru’s room. He kind of has his own bedroom from how often he’s stayed with me. If not, I’ve got a pull out sofa in my room,” Yuki informed, while you were trying your hardest to undo the tight knot in your belly.
Getting to know Yuki over the course of the two days only fed into your regret. You couldn’t help but watch her interactions with Suguru, only to conclude it was no different than how he behaved with Satoru and Shoko.
Even when he addressed her as “Kiki”, it came out with a level of comfort that felt a familial familiarity. If it wasn’t for Mei and her devious manipulation games, you would never have even have assumed that the pair were intimately involved with each other.
As your stubbornness started chipping away, you decided to at least try and make amends with your boyfriend.
On the first night, after getting ready for bed, you broke the long hours of silence by asking him where he was going after watching him get ready to leave the room that you both were supposed to be sharing.
“I’m staying with Satoru,” he curtly responded, and slammed the door behind him before you could get another word in.
Yesterday was painful to say the least. You attempted to sit down with him and Satoru for breakfast, but Suguru excused himself only a couple of minutes later. By mid-morning you texted to ask if he would like to join you and Shoko to walk around the village. You even brought up his favorite soba shop, but found yourself left on read.
His behavior was harsh and quite obvious. By lunchtime Shoko pulled you aside to ask if everything was okay.
“We’re fine,” you answered breathlessly, your worry sending tingles to the tips of your fingers and toes. “We got into a bit of an argument in the car, but we’ll talk things over”
Dinner last night was supposed to be a fun get together at one of the local omakase joints, but it turned into you and Suguru sitting on opposite sides of the table barely acknowledging each other.
You were trying to steal his glance, but he wouldn’t stop avoiding yours. Afterwards while all of you were standing outside, you found the courage to reach for Suguru’s hand to grab his attention.
“Hey,” you whispered low enough for only him to hear to avoid making it obvious to the others. Your heart fluttered when you noticed that Suguru didn’t let go of your hand, but instead pressed the pads of his fingers lightly against your palm to return the gesture.
Almost like he was saying hello.
“Do you maybe want to go for a walk?” you asked, eyes hopeful and desperate. “It’s nice outside tonight, don’t you think?”
You couldn’t gauge what he was thinking, but you paid close attention to his reactions. Like the way his eyes dipped to your fingers slightly interlaced with his own, and how his digits were merely tracing yours in the most featherlight touch.
Did he miss you too?
“I’m going out with Yuki tonight,” he announced, his tone sharp and daring.
Your heart winced.
You weren’t used to this side of Suguru at all.
You let go of his hand, and nodded your head to feign acceptance but your throat was tight and tears were glazing over your woeful irises.
“Oh, okay!” you answered with as much confidence as you could muster up. “I guess…I guess I’ll see what Shoko is up to. And-”
Your voice cracked when Suguru let go of your hand. The emptiness a cold touch against your palm.
“I-I hope you guys have fun catching up tonight-“
Suguru nodded his head, taking your breath away for only a second when he leans forward to leave a chaste kiss on your brow. Not giving you a chance to finish your statement.
The gesture shatters you, because you know that it wasn’t genuine.
He was simply putting on a show, keeping up appearances so that the others don't suspect that something is wrong.
You cry yourself to sleep all alone in bed, all the while holding onto the hope that he might just show up to remind you that everything is okay.
__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ⋆˚ ✧. ┊ ⋆ ★
You’re still staring out the window, watching the droplets trickle down the glass. Lost in the peaceful moment, you barely hear Suguru enter the bedroom, which is why you jump in shock when you suddenly notice a large hand press firmly against the glass by your side.
“It’s pouring, huh?”
His voice, smooth like velvet and soft like storm clouds sent a tremor of desire in your belly. You steadied the cup in your hand, sensing your body trapped between the window and your boyfriend who was now standing prominently right behind you.
“Yeah,” you whisper quietly, your chest rising and falling with anticipation.
You watch him tap his index finger against the glass, your gaze falling to the bracelet on his wrist. It was the other gift that you gave him on his birthday, and he hasn’t taken it off since. The rain patters outside, the white noise your safety barrier against the awkward tension, but you can feel it brewing behind your spine as you steady your breathing.
“Where did you stay last night?” you ask with a mousy voice, hoping that your tone wasn’t coming across as accusatory but simply concerned for wanting to check in on Suguru’s whereabouts.
“Yuki’s room, we were up late talking…” he responds gently, a hint of amusement in his voice but not one that was cruel. “She told me I could sleep on her pull out only after admitting that I’m acting like a little bitch…”
Your mouth naturally ticked into a smile at his playful tone, and you sink your teeth into your lower lip with relief from the casual delivery.
He huffs out a small laugh, "in case you're wondering, I just so happen to agree with her."
“It’s not just you,” you acknowledge, finding the courage to slowly spin on your heel so you can face him. “I started all of this…”
“Yeah, but you’ve been trying to fix it and I’ve been difficult about it…”
Your body crumples when your eyes met his, the power of his gaze forcing you to press your back against the window to stop yourself from buckling at the knees. His yearning matches yours, and the tension in your shoulders relaxes slightly when you note that he might have actually have been missing you too.
The ease in his expression is a white flag of surrender.
You place your tea cup on the table by your side. “I shouldn’t have let Mei get to me,” you admit, “I was caught off guard, and I took my anger out on you…”
“I shouldn’t have put you in that position,” Suguru adds on, shaking his head in disbelief over his own decision. “I should have been upfront with you about Yuki from the star, I just-” He drops his hand away from the window to find yours, and takes both of them between his fingers. His thumb smooths over your knuckles, his grip firm and protective.
“I just didn’t want to give another reason not to trust me”
Your brows furrow with confusion, and Suguru sighs.
“My family were in a bind financially. Even though I got a full scholarship to univerisity, there still wasn’t enough money to put both Mimi and Nana through school. I've known Yuki since I was sixteen. She told me to spend the summers with her and hooked me up with well paying jobs ,” he explains solemnly, almost like he is ashamed by the situation entirely. “So, that’s what I did. Her mom never stayed during the summer break. And yeah, shit happened between us. We’d get high, fuck around, drink, party…but it was just…a release.  It didn’t mean anything else. I swear…”
“Mei said that you loved her,” you fill in, piecing together parts of your own personal indignation. “I think that’s what really got me. Especially when you didn’t tell me yourself. I couldn’t wrap my mind around the secrecy…”
Suguru scoffs, “Mei says that only because I went back summer after summer. I didn’t let anyone else know the real reason why. They had no fucking clue what was going on with me and my last summer with Yuki is when we decided to stop but I-I fucked it up…”
You could see the strain on Suguru’s face, and you squeezed his hand reassuringly to let him know that he could share whatever he needed to say.
“There was this girl that Yuki liked. I mean, really liked. She wouldn’t shut up about her. She was the reason why we stopped sleeping together. One night while we all went out, I got…carried away. I drank too much, I smoked too much, I wasn’t fucking thinking. I don’t even really remember what happened, but when I woke up the next morning…the girl was in my bed. When Yuki found us, she was…heartbroken. She didn’t speak to me for a year, and…I was devastated because her friendship means everything to me. She was the only person who knew how bad things were, and I returned the favor by…well, being myself, I guess…”
“Suguru, don’t say that…” you blurt out, your hands letting go of his as you eagerly clasp his jaw with equal protection. “I see you with your friends. You’re so loyal, and would give them everything if they asked. For somebody whose always so put together, what you did…is so out of character…”
He winced, his eyes narrowing with humiliation but it only taps into your empathy.
You bring his face closer, press your forehead to his own and notice him flutter his eyes close.
“You rarely talk about how hard it was with your family,” you mumble so close to his lips, keeping the conversation as private as possible even though it’s only the two of you in the room together. “I can’t even imagine the kind of pressure you must have been feeling. If you and Yuki are as close as you say are you, I’m sure she came around because she must have seen it too…”
His hands find your your bare waist. “She was the only one who could see it. Satoru, Shoko…it went over their heads…”
The quiet loops in right then, a rumble of thunder echoing in the distance. The hurt in Suguru's voice was loud and clear. The fact that he's always been there, but is so easily forgotten in the long run.
“I need to know,” Suguru confesses, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I need to know what else it’s going to take to get you to trust me because the odds are stacked up against me, sweetheart. And if I can’t make it happen, then I don’t have a single fucking shot at making us happen…”
The sting of regret burns your cheeks once more, and you extend your arms out to circle around your boyfriend’s neck. You want to kick yourself for making him doubt himself, especially after he working so incredibly hard to earn your favor.
“I swore I would never throw your past in your face. I’m so sorry that I did. You’re not the same guy that the people in your life paint you out to be, and I shouldn’t have let them try to convince me otherwise,”
You seal your apology with a small kiss to the corner of his lip, goosebumps pebbling your skin from Suguru’s thumbs tracing tiny streaks up and down your belly. “For whatever reason we don’t seem to make sense to anyone around us…”
When Suguru finds your eyes, you lose yourself into a dark abyss, sinking back into the depths of his soul.
“Is that how you feel too?” he questions seriously, “that we don’t make sense?”
You shake your head instantly to disregard the claim.
“Being with you is the only thing that I seem to understand, and I think that’s why I’m so scared to let you in,” you admit, the past forty eight hours of desperation formulating the next statement on the tip of your tongue. “I’m falling in love with you, Suguru. And-And I can’t seem to stop it from happening…”
Your breathless at the proclamation, your heart hammering so hard in your chest like it’s ready to burst out and bury itself into Suguru’s instead.
You watch your lover pull back slightly, his brows raise with astonishment.
“In love…” he breathes, like he can't believe the words himself, “with me?”
You nod your head, your hands roaming back to the front of his chest where you can feel his own stammering heart against your palm.
"Yeah, with you."
Suguru withers into your touch, his hand cradling your jaw as he dips in to press his mouth over yours. He parts his tongue to deepen the kiss, the weight of his body pushing yours into the surface, where behind you lightning bolts across the sky and grey clouds envelop you both in a shadowy cocoon.
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You freely unravel, your joy sparking from the tips of your toe as to the top of your head knowing that your lover has chosen not to abandon you, knowing that you both are desperately seeking forgiveness.
You swear to yourself that it’ll never get this far again.
Suguru baptizes you with his kiss; it was a long reminder of your submission, of fully surrendering your feelings towards him. In between he moves your body, away from the glass and across the room, until you're pinned underneath him on the bed. He uses one hand to undo the wrap skirt around your waist, leaving you clad in your bikini to bathe under the light of his love instead.
His index finger loops around the string of your bikini top. He pulls away from the wet kiss, the tip of his nose lightly brushing your own, with the heat pooling in those dark irises enough to singe your skin.
“I’m not done with you,” he confirms, going back to the statement that ate away at you like a parasite. “Truthfully, I don’t think I’ll ever be…”
A lock of his hair brushes his brow, and you move it aside to kiss the space.
“Even if you were, I’m not willing to let you go that easily,” you counter because you need him to hear it. You need him to understand that you see what he’s put into this relationship and that you are more than willing to return the effort.
He smiles, and it’s devastatingly perfect it makes you want to scream at the heavens for allowing someone to be this beautiful.
“Still think I’m worth the trouble?”
Your fingers trace down the bridge of his nose, your heart gooey and soft in more ways than you can understand.
“I’m the luckiest girl in the world to have you, Sugu.”
His head tilts with curiosity, eyes drooping in contemplation. He doesn’t say it but you can hear him asking “are you sure?”, but his doubt is enough for you to seal the truth with a kiss, and when Suguru returns it, you’re once again dissolving in his affection.
Your limbs tangle into one another, your bodies pressed so close that you can feel every hard muscle. The bed sheet rumples, is lifted away from the corners as it gathers messily. Suguru’s hand glides up your torso, over the swell of your breasts, and he hooks his fingers around your throat to tilt your neck to the side and allowing him the access to kiss the column.
You thoughtfully sigh, your eyes fluttering close at the sensation of him sucking on your delicate flesh. He leaves a trail in his wake, and you shiver when his hot breath fans your ear.
“Can I ask you something?” he questions in a hush tone, his voice dipping down an octave and sprinkled with desire.
You nod your head.
“Can I go down on you?”
Your body seizes, every single cell on fire. There’s a catch in your throat, and your thighs clench together nervously at the suggestion.
You tilt your head back to face him, your noses and lips bumping in the process. “I-I can do it for you-”
He interrupts you by shaking his head, his mouth carefully kissing your cupid’s bow. “You’ve gone down on me three times already…”
You can feel yourself soaking through your bottoms. A mixture of pleasure and shame heating your cheeks.
“But...what if-what if you don’t like it? I read somewhere that not all guys do...”
Suguru scoffs, baring his teeth as he gives you a full grin. He prods the tips of his nose onto yours, wiggling it teasingly from side to side.
“You’re so fucking cute,” he confesses before adding, “I promise you, I’ll like it”
Your heart is beating so fast you can’t think, but your body speaks another language as your thighs naturally spread a little wider to invite him in.
“Okay, yeah-” you consent, “yeah, you can…”
He smirks, his hands tracing to the strings of your bottoms. You lift your hips, watching him shimmy the fabric down your legs. He stuffs the material in his back pocket, his palms spreading your inner thighs apart.
You sit yourself up on your forearms to study your boyfriend with intrigue.
“God, you’re so fucking pretty…” he sighs, his attention focused on the triangle between your legs, and your belly flutters at the direct compliment.
He doesn’t move for a second, his hands adding the slightest bit of pressure on the meat of your thighs. He licks his lips and breathes out once more, taking just a second to compose himself.
“It’ll only feel good, no pain,” he informs, “but if it’s too much for you, just tell me and I’ll stop, okay?”
Your hips relax further into the mattress, his assurance easing some of your apprehension. Your boyfriend knows how sensitive you are at this point, but you nod your in head in acknowledgement while gratefully appreciating that he regards you with such consideration.
He kisses up the apex of your thigh, carefully avoiding your sex to find a path to you hips. His tongue is sof and warm, tasting every part of your skin as it travels across your lower belly and further down your pubis. You gasp at the sensation of his breath so close to your cunt, your calf twitching when he finally places a gentle kiss on your lips.
And another kiss.
And another kiss.
And a fourth until your toes curl and he finally flattens his tongue along the slit.
“Oh,” you coo, the sensation so delicate and delicious. Suguru drags his love between your folds, up and down, and side to decide, his mouth circling around each lip as he sucks on them in between returning to glide his tongue around.
Your legs clasp around his neck, your heels resting comfortably on his back. The sound of Suguru sucking and licking up your pussy reverberates along with the storm outside. He reaches one arm to find your hand, and you intertwine your fingers to hold him tightly. His other hand slithers up your torso, and slips underneath your bikini top. He pushes the fabric above your breast, his thumb and index finger finding your tender nipple which he massages steadily as his uses his mouth to pleasure you.
The sensation builds, filters throughout your body in waves that roll over and over again. You squeak when he sucks on your clit, your heels pressing into his back but the weight of his body holds you in place to keep you from wandering away.
Your brows furrow, little tremors shaking your collar bones and your belly. “Suguru,” you whine sweetly, a moan following after when he pinches your nipple and nibbles on your clit. He lets go of your hand, his touch traveling down to your legs. He spreads your pussy, giving himself more access to bury his soft tongue deeper, further, to taste more of your nectar as it dribbles down his chest like he’s biting into fruit.
He groans into your cunt.
He grazes his tongue over your weeping hole, and your body thrashes with anguish and rapture. Your eyes spark in white, glittering like the lightning as it bursts and recedes into the ceiling above you. The band in your core is a tight spring that finally unfurls quickly and quite suddenly, your orgasm unfolding throughout your stuttering body.
“Oh, god…” you cry out, your back arching as Suguru keeps his mouth over your cunt, his hand holding you down by your lower body.
You gasp, panting heavily trying to cope with the aftermath. You think that Suguru might stop, but instead you feel him paint kisses all over your sex, rolling your nipple between his finger and moving to suck on your throbbing clit.
“Sugu?” you call out, your spine shuddering.
“Hmm?” he answers, his tongue massaging across the bud.
“You’re still…” you whimper, “you’re still going?”
He releases you with a pop, blowing air over the swollen bud before smiling into another kiss.
“You have no idea how long I can keep going”
Suguru only manages to keep his word by delivering another orgasm with his mouth buried against your cunt. You had tears in your eyes when you came, panting out “no more” with desperation because you couldn’t handle the detachment you were feeling in your own skin.
It feels so fucking good, but all too much at the same time.
Suguru doesn’t push. He won’t test his boundaries right now. Not when you’re just a vulnerable kitten in his eyes. No, the stamina will require time and patience, and for you to get used to him in the bedroom as well.
His disappointments sits between his brows when he pulls away, his hand smoothing over the curve of your pelvis as he kisses your hip and lower belly. He crawls over you like a panther, his shoulder blades rising with each calculative moment. You can smell yourself against his lips, savor your own arousal when he dips in for a kiss.
“Taste like heaven, baby girl,” he mumbles, his balmy words running over your skin like hot oil. “I could eat you out all night…”
He traces the column of your neck with his lips, and grins into your skin. You’re too shy to say anything, and he knows it. He presses his mouth against your neck, pecking over the marks that he’s imprinted.
Your hands fumble to reach for his jeans, your body desperate to do something for him too but Suguru grabs your wrists and pins them to your side before standing upright and undoing his jeans himself.
“Relax,” he insists.
Your eyes fall to his large hands undoing the button, and then unzipping the front of his pants. His grey boxers have a noticeable wet spot, and your pupils dilate when he pulls his dick out for you to see.
You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, waiting to see what he’ll do next. He pumps his cock a few times, sighing heavily as his thumb runs over the slit. To your surprise he shifts his position, and adjusts himself until he’s perfectly aligned with you.
He taps the fat, mushroom head over your clit. “You just open up for me, don’t you?” he whispers deviously, “Let’s practice…”
He slides his dick back and forth over your slit, supports his movements by holding both your knees as he grinds his length against your cunt.
“See how far I’ll stretch you out?” he mumbles, eyes hazy with hunger. “See how deep I’ll go?”
He slides his hands up and down your thighs, rocking back and forth and using you for friction. Soft grunts and moans escape him, and in between he halts for only a second when your quivering hand finds his length. His hips stutter when you start to lightly jack him off, your thumb teasing over the head.
Your eyes fall close, imagine the burn of him spreading you apart, of him making love to your body as you mold into his frame. To feel him in all his glory, for your bodies to become.
The image is raw, vulnerable, and so, so perfect.
There is nobody else you would rather give yourself too.
Suguru is the one.
“I can’t wait,” you beg dreamily, “Need you inside me, I can’t wait-”
His grip on you tightens out of surprise upon hearing your words, and he suddenly thrusts harshly as he curses out a broken “fuck”. Ribbons of white spurt out of him, painting your belly and tainting parts of your chest.
The both of you freeze as you look down, caught off guard by what just happened.
__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ⋆˚ ✧. ┊ ⋆ ★
Suguru cleaned you up using a wet towel to wipe his cum off your belly and chest. You discarded your bikini top afterwards while he removed his jeans, with the two of you then choosing to snuggle up against one another under the sheet.
“That’s never happened to me before,” Suguru confesses, finally breaking the silence. There was a slight blush tinting his cheek bones, and you giggle as you cradle his face in your palm and trace the shade of red.
“You’re usually so in control,” you playfully remark, and Suguru simply rolls his eyes.
“Not with you, I’m not,” he admits, his arm clenching around your waist as he closes the gap of space to tuck you into his chest.
You breathe in his scent, nuzzling your nose into the fabric of his tee.
"I'm glad we're okay now."
"I am too"
You curl your fingers around his shirt. “On your birthday, and just now…we could’ve…just gone all the way. You could’ve just-”
“Not here,” Suguru states seriously, the intensity in his voice prompting you to tilt your chin up and meet his stare. He plays with your ear, traces the shell thoughtfully before gently tugging on your lobe.
The butterflies flutter once again, your irises tinting in pink. You lean forward to kiss the sharp angle of his jaw.
“What was it like for you? Your first time?”
Suguru sighs, and purses his lips as he contemplates the memory. “Yuki was good to me, and it was nice,” he admits, but you’re entranced with the way he holds your gaze. “I sure as hell wasn’t as nervous as I am now…”
“Is that why you keep holding back?” you question innocently, apropping yourself on your elbow to rest your head on your hand. The bed sheet falling and exposing your chest.
Suguru’s eyes fall, his touch tracing the slope to outline the curve of your breast. “Do you want your first time to happen after a petty argument?”
You pout your lips with amusement. “Does it matter?”
“You’re not the only one who might be in love, sweetheart,” he responds, his words greeting the shining sun peeking through the clouds. “Of course it matters.”
__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ⋆˚ ✧. ┊ ⋆ ★
tags: @sellenite @kiwibao @allofffmypeaches @sugurussbby @kunigamisbaby @pandoraium @brownskinnedgirll
my works are available on tumblr and ao3 - any fics reposted on other platforms or other Tumblr blogs have been plagiarized. do not share my works on social media (tiktok etc.) © peachsayshi 
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eyelessfaces · 4 months
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I'll be the silence ringing through and through and through
santiago garcia x reader
summary: if santi had it his way, he would be back home, with you, his mouth on your neck or something of that kind– it would have been possible, a few months ago. or in some alternate universe where he hadn’t fucked it all up. in short; santi wants you back.
warnings: mentions of a breakup but no reason is mentioned, alcohol consumption
tags: f!reader, exes to lovers, inevitable angst, fluff
word count: 1.7k
masterlist | taglist | ao3
updates blog: @eyelessupdates
happy new year!!!! randomly dropping a santi fic to start it right hhhh
fic title is from the song "heart to heart" by fiddlehead :)
reblogs and feedback are extremely (I cannot stress this enough) appreciated!!
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If Santi had it his way, he would be back home, with you, his mouth on your neck or something of that kind–
It would have been possible, a few months ago.
Or in some alternate universe where he hadn’t fucked it all up, and where he would be holding you by the waist and kissing your cheek instead of having to watch you from afar, scrutinizing every littlest movement of yours while he was slumped in Frankie’s couch, like an hermit, feeling helpless, the neck of his beer being the only thing to kiss his lips tonight.
Maybe it was just the alcohol, maybe everything would seem way less dramatic tomorrow, save for the hangover headache – but no, scratch that, he wasn’t even drunk, just barely tipsy, so no, tomorrow won’t be better.
It must be the sight of you laughing at another man’s joke then, probably.
Was he hitting on you? Was he just a friend, like Benny, Will and Frankie were to you? 
He shouldn’t care; that wasn’t his business, that wasn’t his problem. Not anymore. Not that he had been the kind to carefully observe your every movement any time you talked to another man back when you were together. He had never really been of that kind, he trusted you.
Except here, right now, it was his problem. For some reason, it felt like it was, and even more than before, when you were still together.
Because now that you didn’t love him anymore, there was nothing to stop you from doing anything with that man.
Would that man fill the hole Santi had left in your heart? Would he make you happier that Santi ever had? 
Probably. He was probably a good man, would be a good boyfriend, wouldn’t fuck everything up. Would probably even marry you, and he’d be damn right to.
“He’s gay” Will snorts, plopping down next to Santi, giving a small pat to his chest. Santi’s gaze finally departs from you to turn to his right, where his friend has settled next to him.
“Good to know, but I‘m not interested in him,” Santi jokes, looking down at his half full beer. Half empty.
“That, I know.” Will cocks his head to the side, a more serious expression over his face as he brings his beer to his mouth. Santi’s gaze darts back to you and that man talking, a sick feeling filling his stomach as he sees you smile and shake your head frantically just the way you used to when he would come up with a shitty joke. “I’m like, eighty three percent sure she’s still in love with you.” Will speaks again, nudging Santi’s knee with his own.
“Seventeen percent of what?” Santi chuckles, more convinced that the rest of that percentage is the most important part.
“Seventeen percent of, you still fucked up, man.” Will says, patting Santi’s knee before getting up from the couch, already. “I’m not good at math dude, but all I can tell you is, it’s worth trying again!” he declares over the music, pointing at Santi before disappearing through the crowd. 
Easier said than done.
Santi sighs, bites the inside of his cheek as he runs a hand over his few days old stubble. 
He had never had any issue talking to people with ease, but for some reason, the idea of talking to you tonight seemed like the most intimidating thing he ever had to do in his entire life.
But god, did he want to look at you in the eyes again. To have you make that focused frown whenever you were attentively listening to someone. To see the way your lips curled up into a smile when you could pre shot a joke, and the way you still pretended not to know what the punchline was, and still ended up laughing.
Santi smiles to himself, finishes his beer, and when he looks up, you’re not in the crowd anymore. Then Benny joins him when he goes to the kitchen for a refill, and you happen to slip out of his mind for the time being. 
The air is crisp, compared to the smothering heat inside. It tickles your cheeks, the tip of your ears, it hits every exposed area of skin, the sweat over it now feeling ice cold.
It’s all you needed and wanted, so you shouldn’t complain.
You walk back and forth along Frankie’s porch, the overwhelming feeling of the slight tipsiness and the fast beating of your heart simmering down, and you lean against the wall, taking a deep breath. 
You turn at the sound of the door opening beside you, the loud, previously muffled sound of the music now clear, ending up face to face with the one person you did your best to not go talk to all night long.
“Shit, sorry. I’ll go” Santi apologizes, still firmly holding the doorknob, starting to go back inside.
“No, no, it’s alright” you say, inviting him to stay with you. “I didn’t privatize the porch” you joke, giving him an awkward smile.
He chuckles as he tentatively steps outside, closing the door behind him, leaning his back against the wall beside you. Neither of you say a single word for a while, then he looks over at you, and you can feel the weight of his gaze on you. “I assumed you wouldn’t wanna see me.” he finally declares, making you scoff and shrug.
“I actually don’t mind,” you say, looking over at him. He’s now looking ahead, a small pinched smile over his lips. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip before looking back at you.
“I feel like an idiot.”
“Fair enough, you are one.” you immediately sigh, looking away. His gaze is too heavy. “I loved you.” the knot inside your throat tightens only after you pronounce the words, thankfully.
He swallows hard, a shiver running down his spine. It’s not the cold air’s doing. He stares deeply at you, watching you doing your best not to look at him.
“I know.” 
The atmosphere hangs heavily as the awkwardness takes over. The silence lingers, punctuated only by the sounds of the night around you. 
He pushes himself away from the wall, taking a step closer and turning to look at you, forcing the both of you to truly establish eye contact for the first time tonight.
"I fucked up, I know," he admits, his voice low and filled with remorse. "But I never meant to hurt you." he shakes his head. “Ever.”
You blink, your gaze tearing from his. "You did anyway," you reply, your tone tinged with a mixture of bitterness and sadness. The memories of the pain he caused are still fresh, wounds not fully healed. 
He runs a hand over his stubble, a nervous habit you remember all too well. "I know I can't change anything that I did, but I want you to know that I'm sorry."
Your eyes meet his own again, searching for sincerity. "It doesn't fix everything," you say, your guard still up. 
He nods understandingly. "I just needed to tell you, and to let you know I haven't stopped thinking about you."
The vulnerability in his gaze begins to chip away at your defenses. Despite the hurt, a part of you softens. "Santi–”
He cuts you off– "I've been thinking, and you know I don’t do it often” he jokes, scoffing. “And I realized how much I lost when I let you go." 
A wave of internal conflict washes over you. Your past relationship is a heavy burden you’re carrying, and you’re not sure you should grant him your forgiveness, yet there's a glimmer of something in his eyes that translates his genuine desire for redemption, and there’s some part of you that craves everything you had with him.
“Please,” he starts, his gaze chasing yours as he softly holds onto your wrist. “Please give me a second chance”
His plea hangs in the air, and you can feel the sincerity in his touch. The warmth of his hand on your wrist is a rough contrast to the chill in the night air. You sigh, and look away, torn between the pain of the past and the possibility of a different future. The silence stretches painfully, and you can hear the faint sounds of the night around you – a distant car passing by, the rustle of leaves in the breeze.
A shiver shakes through you, the brown of his eyes seeming deeper than usual, softer as he silently begs for you to say something.
“Second and last chance” you finally declare, refusing to give up on everything you’ve done to try to get over him, yet indulging in everything you’ve ever wanted since you’ve been apart. 
He nods silently, his hand leaving your wrist to settle at the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Okay. Alright. I won’t need another one” he promises confidently, the frown over his face eventually softening. You smile as his thumb gently rubs over your now cold skin.
“Alright, but you gotta kiss me for it to take effect” you tease as you break the tense atmosphere, readjusting your position onto your feet and placing your hands at either side of his neck. His skin is warm, and you feel his muscles contract under your hands when he laughs.
“Good thing I’ve been wanting to do it all night long” he smirks before leaning in and pressing his lips against yours, smiling as you sigh into the kiss. This is it; you feel complete again. 
He tastes of booze, and his light stubble slightly stinging when he moves are surprisingly pleasant. Your hand shifts to rest at the back of his neck, feeling his scar here, his own hands pulling you closer at the waist where he squeezes lightly when you run your other hand through his short hair.
You pull away only once it becomes necessary, the lack of oxygen making you all giddy though you’re not sure it’s just it. Santi is still holding you close as he presses his warm lips over your forehead, laughing when a shiver runs through your spine and makes you jolt. 
“Alright” he declares as he strips himself of his shirt, pulling it over your shoulders.
“You already pulled this trick on our first date” you scoff, looking over at him. A sly smirk grows over his face as you adjust the jacket over your shoulders.
“...And it worked, didn’t it?”
reblogs and feedback are extremely (I cannot stress this enough) appreciated!!
triple frontier taglist: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @mystinky-butt @anightshift @whatthefishh @alexxavicry @grxywindd @campingwiththecharmings @mintgreen24 @dameronshandholder @spider-starry @jakecockley @cocodiem @spxctorsslxt @luxisluxurious @dowbastan
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javarium · 10 months
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all the good things | geto suguru.
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someway, somehow, amidst all of the thoughts of chaos and spiraling ideals of a new “better” world, a light shines through to guide him to a path of true balance. that just so happens to be the second-year transfer from Kyoto, who’s more than happy to put him back on the right path..
warning(s): like 98% canon lmao, female reader, mentions of pregnant! reader towards the end, honestly just wrote and didn’t bother checking if this was coherent but here’s y’all a snack haha, also using new line dividers atm and they’re all all pretty, credits to the maker in the guidelines of my blog
note(s): as much as I wanted to wait I just can’t stand it so here’s this piece published earlier than I want lol. also I didn’t know who to tag for geto so I just went with these lovelies ☺️
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You like the Tokyo school much better than the one in Kyoto.
By leaps and bounds actually, you muse.
Everything from the people down to the energy they give off was so much more different — more freeing.
Kyoto was just too much, too old school and too traditional, especially for you. The students there seemed to be more rigid, and the teachers seemed to sneer at you. More often than not for just being a female. That old way of thinking was most likely why they lost the Exchange Event almost every year.
Especially with sorcerers like Geto Suguru on their side.
You transferred to Tokyo during the last half of your first year, which wasn’t something commonplace. That time wasn’t exactly a pleasant time to transfer into. Geto and Gojo, your upperclassmen, had failed a mission protecting the Plasma Star Vessel, Riko Amanai. Yes, Gojo managed to take out the Sorcerer Killer, Fushiguro Toji (who was actually a Zen’in like Naoya) on the mission, but that was only after he had completed his mission — after they had failed to protect Riko.
Now you’re a second-year at Tokyo High, watching the third-year Geto Suguru fall into a spiral of chaos and warped ideals while his friends go their own personal paths and leave him to his own devices, completely unaware in their own worlds that they’ve left a storm brewing behind them, alone and lonely and more than ready to bring down its wrath upon anyone in its way.
You secretly wondered how much Gojo cared for the person who was supposed to be his best friend.
So why you decided to approach said storm to get a (very much well-needed) drink out at the machines while he was preoccupied with his own thoughts, you have no idea. Were you stupid? Yes. Did that matter right now? … Probably.
Your feet carried you to the vending machine, standing beside Geto. You weren’t bothering to look at him out of your peripheral vision, knowing that if you did, the universe would shit on you and he would look up and make eye contact.
Sounds like one of those romance animes or something, you think, nose crunching in distaste. Ew…
“It’s such a shame that you decided to withdraw from Kyoto, [Name]-chan.”
An even bigger problematic ‘ew’ came from behind you. You scowled and turned halfway on your heel, back facing your black-haired upperclassmen to stare at the smirking face of one of the two reasons you’d originally left Kyoto’s school.
You scoff, shaking your head to see Geto’s form standing tall, but still facing the vending machine to get something. That’s all right; you could handle your own battles anyway.
“You really have the audacity to come and talk to me like this? After what you put me through for the last two years? Ah, wait a second. It’s you. So I guess I shouldn’t be all that surprised.”
“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.” Naoya shrugged. “All I asked for was—”
“For you to leave her alone, Zen’in.”
Your eyes widen slightly at the sound of Geto’s voice cutting through the air, but it’s only Naoya that scowls and turns his head to face his Tokyo upperclassmen.
And to your absolute surprise, despite Naoya’s scowl deepening to a point where you thought he couldn’t get any uglier, the male pivoted on the ball of his foot and sauntered off.
“Are you alright?” came the instant inquiry.
Geto moving to get a closer look at you made you sweat even more. Just for a different reason.
“I’m fine, Senpai.”
The tall male looks between you and Naoya’s fading figure, eyes narrowing slightly in distaste up until he sees the Zen’in male finally disappear from sight. Even he knows that the Zen’in’s are trash; Naoya just really takes the cake.
“That’s good,” he says.
And when he looks at you with gentle eyes, you’re surprised (and desperately trying to hide it). How instantly his expression and mood changed from mere moments before Naoya showed up to at this moment caught you off guard.
“Did you need something from here? I can get it for you.”
His offer is so sincere, so polite. Such a stark contrast from earlier. Especially with the way the bright smile on his face that reaches his ears and makes the corners of his eyes begin to crinkle.
Instead of the same uncertainty from before your approach filling your stomach, this time feels different. This time, it’s an excited, happy feeling; as if butterflies are rapidly fluttering away in your belly in eager anticipation of something wonderful to come.
“Um, yes,” you squeak, looking to the machines, “I was going to get—”
>>>>
How long does it take for one to fall from grace?
From one who’s fingers touched the pure white clouds of heaven to becoming one who’s knees were stuck deep within the obsidian tar pits of hell, it seemed Geto Suguru was destined to struggle with himself — with his morals and ideals of the world of jujutsu sorcerers and the world of people that lived outside of it — for eternity.
Someone that was so bright, so revered, to fall into a pit of hopelessness?
It must be a lie, others would think.
Watching him sink into the pits of chaos and despair while his best friend rose to a place where he became untouchable to all sorcerers… made something terrible, something spiteful, stir within the depths of your stomach. How much did the white-haired teenager care about the one he called his equal?
But as Gojo became more and more powerful and left his friend behind, Geto too, grew in power in his own right.
And a lot of it was with you.
Weeks of meeting at the vending machines for snacks during training turned into months of sitting on benches and eating lunch together. Even that progressed farther, to him taking you to everything from restaurants to the book store (as much as he’d laugh at you buying manga, he was just as much of a hypocrite with Inuyasha under his arm) to even pretty lakes across Japan, soaring atop one of his flying curses.
Doing things that friends do. That people more than friends also do.
But at the same time, during those times after missions or simply while spending time together in either his or your room, you’d see that malicious darkness fester up. You’d see the way his brows would furrow when you mentioned saving someone or his lips pull down when there’d be a mention of the higher-ups about a mission you’d taken recently that went sour.
In times like these, you wondered if Gojo Satoru really did once know Geto Suguru the same way you knew him now.
“I can see the sweat on your forehead,” the black-haired male jokes. “You shouldn’t think so hard.”
Suguru doesn’t chuckle, but the joking smile of amusement is still there. It’s just a faint one. He’s become less and less of a jokester lately, swimming deeper into the darkness. But for you, you think he tries a little harder to keep the mood and air between you two as light and positive as possible.
(For you.)
“I’ll be sure to remember that,” you quip back, “for the next time I see sweat on your brow for thinking so much. Hypocrite.”
For the first time all day, he finally chuckles.
“Hypocrite?” He muses, placing his cheek on his fist. “Really?”
“Yes!” You toss your hands up in mock frustration. “You heard me, Mr. I-Wanna-Brood-At-Weird-Times-of-the-Day.”
“That’s an awfully long name.”
“It sure does fit though, yeah?”
“So you say.”
The air had been tense and thick since morning, but the two of you were striving to get past it. Well, you slightly more, but the more you tried, the more Geto — ah, Suguru. He already told you to call him that, didn’t he? — seemed to try and help you push for a happier tone.
But the mission Suguru was to be sent on soon had him shut down mentally, closed off from you for the last few days. And today was the day you’d tried to pick him back up out of his crappy mood.
“You sure you don’t want to talk about it?” you ask.
Suguru sighs, then nods his head. “It’s nothing. I’ll be back by the day after, if not sooner.”
You shrug, semi-happy with his response and accepting it. But the other half of you knows something — sees something — behind his pretty eyes that you wished you would have left alone.
But your heart loved to meddle when it wanted to meddle.
And in the future, you hoped Suguru would thank you for that meddling nature.
****
113 bodies were to be found five days after Geto arrived at the village he was assigned to.
But he hadn’t been alone the day he arrived.
Suguru just didn’t know that.
You’d stuck to him like glue. Well, as far back as glue could stretch in that regard. You’d silenced your cursed energy so much that you almost swore you didn’t even have any. And not once did the male turn around to bother to look around or check his surroundings, like he knew he was ever being followed.
Now, all you could do was watch as Suguru stepped into the house that the villagers brought him to. Supposedly, the house contained the reason why the villagers had been dying.
But that gnawing anxiousness in the pit of your stomach told you otherwise. It told you that something was about to go very, very wrong.
Very few people had been able to manage to near-fully suppress their cursed energy aura. It was a talent that could only be managed by a select few, one of which was probably Gojo Satoru himself. But when one successfully did it, all the stories told of how nauseous they felt; how overwhelming the sense of others cursed energy could be.
And it was all true.
Bile and your lunch nearly coated your shoes. Knees too had you let Suguru’s immense, Special Grade cursed energy make you sink to the ground.
It isn’t the same. It isn’t the same. It isn’t the same!
Eyes blown wide as saucers, you realized that something had indeed went very, very wrong inside that house. Because no longer was Suguru’s cursed energy driven by regular means like a regular jujutsu sorcerer.
No. All you could see from his cursed energy was pure malice and raw, unadulterated rage and anger.
Whatever these people said or have done to send him into such fury like this, you couldn’t move, only think. This is the day they die.
Out of the house comes two— No, three. Suguru being one of them. A man and a woman, both with ugly faces and ugly auras you didn’t like.
No wonder Suguru doesn’t like them.
A curse manifests from your friend’s fingertips, and you quickly realize what’s about to happen — the only thing that could happen.
But he can’t just kill them…
You step out of your hiding spot and shout his name. Shock enters Suguru’s eyes. Of course; he hadn’t expected you to be here. But then they glaze over with a mixture of emotions. Disappointment seems to be the most obvious.
Curse you, Yuki Tsukumo, for tipping him over the edge.
“Don’t even try it, Suguru.”
“You shouldn’t have come, [Name].” It sounded like a warning.
You scoff slightly. “And let you do something like this? I don’t think so.”
His eyes narrow. It’s an expression you don’t like.
“You need to leave.”
“So do you, apparently.”
“Don’t be like this, [Name]. Don’t make me hurt you.”
“You wouldn’t anyway. Why let one awful circumstance, one awful event, define the rest of your life?”
“Do you know what they’ve done?” he asks, and you clearly hear the intent of violence behind his tone. You see his jaw clench up and a dangerous fire ignite behind his eyes. “Do you know they have two girls locked up in there, ready to kill?”
“Of course not,” you say, “but you were about to do something that was going to impact your life… Forever.”
“I think I’m ready for that.”
“You’re ready to lose everything?”
“If I must.”
You almost bite your tongue. But you don’t, and speak anyway.
“Even me?”
The thick, black smokiness of one his curses dancing on his fingertips turns to wisps, almost vanishing. You see what the question does to him, so you press farther. Deeper into the unspoken part of you two’s relationship you’d both been afraid to touch on.
Then, he admits something, dipping first into waters that haven’t been treaded into.
“I’d like to think you’d come with me, be by my side.”
Your heart thumps faster. It’s a declaration of many things: loyalty, friendship, trust.
But all your ears hear is a declaration of love.
Because you don’t miss the way his eyes shine as he looks you up and down like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever seen. Like he wants you to actually follow him like he expected, to come with him and step in place next to him like an equal.
If not more than just an equal.
“I can’t do that,” you reply. “You know I can’t, Suguru. And neither can you.”
It’s written all over his face that he doesn’t like your answer.
“And why can’t I?”
“Because you’re better than this.”
Was he? What did that mean anyway: being better? After Riko, after his “talk” with Yuki, everything just seemed to collapse around him; everything he knew ripping apart at the seams faster than he could repair them.
Why? Why was he supposed to be better? How could he be better? Did he deserve to even become better?
“Don’t take the easy way,” you tell him. “There’ll never be a right answer, not right now at least.”
“Killing all non-sorcerers seems like a pretty good start,” he replies darkly.
“And how would you even manage that?” you retort. “If that’s the only thing you can stand on, that’s shallow.”
“Then what is the answer, [Name]? Do tell me, please,” he urges sarcastically, rolling his dark eyes. “Is killing every non-sorcerer not worth us jujutsu sorcerers having a chance to live?”
You answer as earnestly as he expects, “I have no idea, but at the moment, it sounds pretty stupid.”
Unfortunately, it takes him much longer than you want for him to put the monster at his fingertips away, for his cursed energy to dip down and go back to the way it was before it spiked in a rage you’d never anticipated to see from him.
The village is scathed with fire and terror: burned buildings with its inhabitants shaken to the core over the consequences of their actions — and what would happen if they tried to put more children in the cage Suguru found them in. It’s not ethical, and surely you’d hear about it from the higher-ups in jujutsu society.
But for the girls wrapped up in yours and Suguru’s arms, you heart and soul knew it was worth it.
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Megumi doesn’t get along with Nanako too well. But you’re sure you know why, with his red cheeks and all.
“You think he’ll ever say anything?” you ask your husband.
“Doubtful,” Suguru chuckles, “considering he was raised by Satoru.”
It’s been a rough ten years raising the twins. There’s been a long list of issues, struggles over the last several years that have really put your relationship with your now-husband to the test. From the elders to Suguru’s own conflicting ideals; from his own coping mechanisms to making sure you and his girls are well taken care of, and those are just a few to list. But fixing Satoru and Suguru’s friendship was by far the most difficult thing.
Riko’s death really did change them in the most awful ways.
“Satoru has only gotten crazier over the years,” you hum, agreeing. “I still can’t believe Satoru brought Sukuna’s vessel here.”
“I think you mean stupid, darling,” Suguru chuckles. “And did you know he gave Itadori a second finger?”
“Disgusting! All in true Satoru taste, too.”
“Hey! I can hear you two, you know!” the white-haired male complains.
“Good!” you shout back.
And cue Satoru’s crocodile tears. “Suguru really did marry a witch!”
You feel the veins in your head twitch with irritation. You’d always hated that damn nickname.
You moved to stand up to go and whack the shit out of the manchild, but your husband’s hand settled on your knee. You looked at him curiously, sitting back down.
“Sit,” he says. “Getting worked up like that isn’t good for you right now. Shoko said to keep it minimal for now, remember?”
You snort. “You’ve drilled it into me, Sugu.”
“Good. I’ll be back in a moment.”
His hand rests on your belly for moment, presses a sweet kiss to your forehead, and then stands up to go and beat the shit out of his best friend to defend his wife’s honor.
And maybe to have some fun, too.
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taglist: @vagabond-umlaut • @itzmeme • @dellalyra • @torusmochi
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aziraphales-library · 4 months
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The requests for Christmas fics have started to come in... far, far too late. Remember folks, it takes us months to answer asks and then they're in the queue for a while before publishing.
Luckily this blog is a resource, not simply an ask blog. We already have a #christmas tag you can check for fics we've recommended before!
As a little bonus, here are a few new fics from this year...
City Of Blinding Lights by ShadesOfDeviant (G)
“Well, I sometimes—that is to say—I often considered an early evening walk round the area to see the lights quite the romantic endeavour. Arm in arm under the glow of the fairy lights, I even have a route planned out for should I ever get the chance to go.” “Should you ever get the chance?” Crowley snorts in a way that would be unattractive to almost anyone other than Aziraphale before he folds his newspaper in half and then half again, and casually tosses it onto the coffee table beside him. “You need to be a bit more subtle when you’re aiming for a temptation angel.” He adds with a quick wink before he rolls up onto his feet. AKA: Aziraphale has always wanted to go on a romantic evening walk round London to see all the Christmas lights. Now free of Heaven & Hell and able to openly express his feelings for Crowley, Aziraphale can't think of a better time to implement a plan nearly 40 years in the making.
A Dream Is A Soft Place To Land (may we all be so lucky) by randomramblingsofme (T)
Crowley feels as if the universe won't let him get his feet back under him. He has no plan, is juggling two jobs, coping with chronic pain from an old injury, expertly (so he thinks) hiding a raging crush on the bookseller across the street, and he is currently covered in tree sap. But things could be worse. For example, he could forget all about the Whickber Street Christmas party being hosted by said crush until five minutes beforehand. Oh shit. --- Modern AU, Barista Crowley/Bookseller Aziraphale
Eggnog and Effervescence by RepQueen15 (T)
Crowley turned so as to be able to watch the rest of the movie, and his ear pressed against Aziraphale’s thigh. He felt the angel tremble a little, as though this weren’t just some small service to him either, though that was nothing short of ridicule. Or perhaps…? No. This was just Aziraphale being his perfect, soft self. Though maybe, just maybe, Crowley wasn’t the only one who needed a little more physical contact in his life. *** Crowley and Aziraphale spend a quiet Christmas Eve putting up fairy lights, getting tipsy on eggnog, watching ridiculous Christmas movies and... cuddling.
Here’s a Hand (My Dearest Friend) by perilit (T)
Wherein Crowley allows himself to be comforted in the days leading up to the Christmas holiday, and repays with some comforting of his own.
I’m Dreaming of a Light (and Dark) Christmas by cheeseplants (T)
Aziraphale had begun plotting his revenge a few days after the encounter with the man he had begun to refer to as the demon in his head. Not that he was a vengeful person. He was a good and righteous person who believed it was important to bring light into people's lives. Lights, in fact. Several of them. _______ Two shopkeepers with very different ideas about Christmas battle it out on Whickber Street to create the most extravagant Christmas lights in London. But when the lights go out, they start to find they may have more in common than they first thought. An enemies to lovers human-AU Christmas decorations feud!
If the Fates Allow by catherineland (T)
Crowley makes a shocking discovery: Aziraphale claims to hate Christmas. Crowley’s new mission is to show his angel what he’s been missing.
- Mod D
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relaxxattack · 9 months
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ok yeah lots of memes about how the shitty new UI is literally a direct carbon copy of twitter and we hate it because of that, yea yea
here’s some actual/extra reasons why the UI itself is shitty beyond the fact that it’s stolen from twitter (in just my personal opinion)
it’s claustrophobic as hell. the old UI felt breathable, felt like you could scroll and actually look at your posts, and now there’s enough shit going on on one page that it actually gives me a headache. (i’ve heard other people say this as well, so maybe it’s not just me that’s overstimulated by all the fucking noise on the dash?)
the ‘dash sorting’ (for you / your tags / what you missed) is way too high up the page now and appears crowded against the top where things like the bookmarks bar are on most browsers. not that anything in this new UI isn’t crowded.
i’ve seen it mentioned plenty already, but there’s quite a lot of unnecessary duplication-- as in, the same buttons that exist in the new left navigation panel show up on the right in blog view, which is just completely annoying and unneeded clutter.
the fact that post interaction options are all on the right side of the posts, but dashboard navigation is now all pushed to the far left of display, is extremely annoying. i’m right-handed, so it’s extra annoying for me to have to constantly go all the way over there. maybe that’s easier for left-handed people, but if the case was supporting diversity, why not just put an option in dashboard preferences to switch the side of ALL the controls? because the post interactions are still on the right.
while we’re on the subject-- tumblr’s original design was actually MUCH more intuitive and easy to navigate. the reason for this is that everything you needed to click was in one small area. you scroll up and down the dash, move slightly up to navigate (home/asks/notifications) and slightly down to the side to interact with a post (reblog/reply). extremely simple, easy to use, even ‘lazy + addicting’, which is what all social media studio exes are supposed to want right now. changing the ui to actually be more work and more frustrating to navigate seems completely opposed to what their obvious business strategy should be.
tumblr’s original design was also much more breathable, with the small icons in the corner looking organized and not taking up much space, and lots of room for the posts themselves to be the main attraction.
there’s the fact that copying someone else’s brand entirely actually just puts you in a bigger, wider pool with much more competition, and makes you much more likely to immediately fall short of that and go bankrupt.
tumblr's original purpose was to be geared toward blogs, and these updates, along with the writing on the wall about blog themes being completely phased out soon, is completely against the original purpose. although sometimes website purposes change for the better, so take that as you will.
and finally the obvious point that you can tell from all the memes: this change is almost universally hated by the core tumblr userbase-- aka the site’s loyal consumers for years and years. driving out their main demographic seems like a very obvious, very quick way to lose a lot of fucking money. they also did this “carbon copy of twitter” update literally just a week after sitewide protest about the idea of this site being anything like twitter, so it feels like a massive Fuck You to literally all of the users. tumblr is rapidly approaching their trust thermocline, and show no sign of slowing down.
these are just my opinions about the ui, and i’m only one person. so feel free to add on other design flaws you think people should be aware of or able to mention! i will probably also be submitting this post as feedback to staff, and will be taking their surveys when i can as well.
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nebulousbrainsoup · 10 months
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hey could i send a request for han jisung x readers enemies to lovers university au with the smut prompts 1 + 45 + 81(spoiled they get caught🤭) maybe with a party setting 🥰 thank you sm
prompts:
1. "I love it when you moan my name." || 45. "Just shut up and fuck me." || 81. "If we get caught, I'm blaming you."
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Vehemently
fulfilled as part of my 150(ish) followers event.
PAIRING: han jisung x fem!reader GENRE: enemies to lovers, smut, college au RATING: 18+ ; minors/ageless blogs dni TAGS/WARNINGS: ft. felix, hyunjin & lino, swearing, alcohol use, drug use, slight misunderstandings, sassy jisung & reader, quick edit, let me know if i missed anything! WORD COUNT: 3.7k SUMMARY: above! A/N: i haven't been able to stop thinking about this request since you sent it, but good LORD has this fic eluded me. i think i'm coming to the realization that i cannot be mean to any of the boys who are younger than me, even if it's only by a few months. but here you are, my dear, i hope the wait was worth it. have a full-length fic as an apology </3
smut tags/warnings under the cut ; masterlist | join my taglist | buy me a coffee?
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NSFW TAGS/WARNINGS: lil bit of hate sex, rough sex, dom-leaning jisung, sub-leaning reader, but they’re both switches to me, bratty behavior, biting, marking, brief oral (fem receiving), use of a condom, protected sex, piv, little bit of edging, nicknames (baby, sweetheart, pretty boy), getting caught; let me know if i missed anything, please!
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Coming to this party was an awful idea. You’d known it when Felix had invited you, but he’d flashed those big brown eyes of his at you and you’d melted immediately. It was his birthday, after all, and you and Hyunjin were his best friends—it would be rude for you not to show, especially since your roommate had made it clear that he would be going. Though you were wary, you decided to give it the benefit of the doubt, with a promise from Hyunjin that he would stay by your side.
The second you’d walked through the door, though, Felix had wrapped you both up in hugs, and when you’d turned back around to find your roommate, he’d vanished. The same happened with Felix when you spun back around, and you were left alone in the entryway of a house you had never been to before. You sighed in defeat, resigning yourself to finding the kitchen alone. If you were going to be here, you may as well take advantage of the free liquor. 
You’d nearly finished mixing your drink when a familiar, loud laugh caught your attention, and a chill lit down your spine. Of course Changbin would be here, you reminded yourself. He’s one of Felix’s favorite people, after all, and just because he—and probably Chris, now that you thought about it—was here, it didn’t mean Han Jisung would be. You would be fine.
Lee Minho, on the other hand, was a more unexpected sight, and you nearly jumped out of your skin at finding the man staring at you, head tilted in confusion. He looked much like the black cat he was frequently compared to, and felt just as ill an omen. Sure, he and Felix were on the dance team together, but you had never known them to be close. Han and Minho on the other hand, had always been suspiciously so. 
You gave a tight smile, which he did not return, instead asking, “What are you doing here?”
You scrunched up your nose at him. “It’s… Felix’s birthday party? Why wouldn’t I be here?”
Realization, though you weren’t sure of what, dawned on his face. “Ah, of course, silly me.”
Your eyes narrowed. “Why are you here?” 
“It’s Felix’s birthday party,” he echoed, raising his plastic cup to you before turning to head out of the kitchen. “And Han’s, too.”
Your heart dropped into your stomach as you watched him nearly skip away, and you quickly downed your entire drink. If Hyunjin couldn’t get you out of here now, you were going to have a long night ahead of you.
By the time you finally found your roommate, you had already caught sight of Han twice. You were fuming quietly when you finally made your way out to the backyard, unsurprisingly finding Hyunjin with a joint in one hand and a cup in the other, laughing as he passed it on to Jeongin. His eyes flickered up to you as you approached, and he began to scoot over to make room for you in the circle.
“Sorry! I kind of forgot we were sticking together. You can—”
“Did you know this was Han’s party, too?” You cut in, hands on your hips. 
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The circle went quiet, and Hyunjin tilted his head at you. “You… didn’t?”
“If I did, I probably wouldn’t have come.” You seethed, and he flushed, eyes dropping to the floor. When he didn’t reply, you huffed, crossing your arms and starting back for the house. “Whatever. I’m out of here.”
It wasn’t anything against Felix or Hyunjin; you simply hated Han Jisung. You’d shared a gen-ed course your first year here, and he was the first face that stuck out to you in the lecture hall. You hadn’t expected much when you finally gathered the nerve to approach him—maybe a hello, or a quick number exchange. Instead, he’d kept his head down, given you a disinterested half-glance over, and made his way to the door without a single word, leaving you standing awkwardly alone in the middle of the lecture hall. When you’d finally gotten to know him through your mutual friends—with some reluctance—you’d immediately found him loud and annoying, far too cocky for your tastes. Between the awful first impression and his inability to take anything, especially you, seriously, your hatred for him had bloomed quickly.
And now, here you were at his birthday party. You’d seen him, sure, but you’d be damned if you let him see you. You had appearances to keep up and a heart to keep intact. Resolving to find Felix before just ditching him, you made your way back into the roiling crowd in the living room. It was hard to see between or over the dancing bodies as you were jostled, trying fruitlessly to elbow your way through, and you quickly abandoned that plan of action. Sighing, you made your way back to the kitchen, hoping for a little peace to clear your scrambled mind.
No such luck would come, it seemed, as the moment you turned the corner into the kitchen, you slammed face-first into the very man you were trying to avoid. His own freshly made drink went down the front of both of you, and you huffed a sigh, biting the inside of your lip to keep the tears of frustration from spilling. This party was a stupid idea.
“Oh, shit, are you okay?”
Before you could spiral into your abyss of self-loathing, his voice cut through your thoughts. 
“Fine,” you spat, “can’t say the same for my clothes, though.”
He frowned, irritation crossing his features at your attitude. “Look, sorry, but maybe you should watch where you’re going next time. I know you hate me, but take it easy on the booze, would you?” 
You rolled your eyes heartily, turning on your heel. Just as you were about to cross back into the living room, his hand latched around your wrist. “Wait!” He looked stunned as you turned around, swallowing thickly and giving you a once-over. “It’s kind of my fault, too, I wasn’t really… Let me grab you something to wear and I can dry your clothes or something.”
“It’s fine, I was heading out anyway.”
“It’s only been an hour. Felix wants you to at least stay til midnight, right? For his actual birthday? You and Hyunjin are like his best friends, come on. Don’t make him suffer just ‘cause you’re pissed at me.”
You scrunched up your nose and, not for the first time, Jisung thought it was the most adorable thing he’d ever seen. He never quite figured out why you hated him so much, but it was common knowledge between your mutual friends, and he played into it every chance he got. It was easier that way; he could put some distance between himself and his feelings for you. Whatever the reason may be, you absolutely despised him, and to see you here tonight was a complete surprise. He assumed you were here for Felix—everyone knew how close the two of you were; and the last thing he wanted to do was force you to leave the party because of his presence or clumsiness.
“Let me help. For him. Then I’ll stay out of your hair for the rest of the night.”
You sighed, but the way your shoulders slumped told Han he had won this battle. “Fine,” you muttered, tugging your wrist free of his grasp. “But it’s just for Lix.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” he teased, grinning widely. As he squeezed past you, he took your hand, grip tightening as you tried to yank away from him. 
“Don’t want you to get lost in the fray, do we?” His cocky little smirk was still plastered on his face, and you rolled your eyes heartily, gesturing him forward.Although it had heat rising to your cheeks, you were thankful for Jisung’s hand in yours—though you were loath to admit it, he was right. You would have been swept away in the crowd within seconds if not for his firm grip. God, what you would do to have those hands elsewhere; he really was unfairly pretty. As he dragged you along, you got a lovely view of just how much he had filled out since that first day in the lecture hall—his shoulders having broadened and his biceps having thickened. Despite your front, you were just as head over heels for this man as you had been the day you laid eyes on him.
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There were significantly fewer people upstairs, and you tugged your hand from his grip the moment you could, though with slightly less vehemence this time. He still shot a sideways glance back at you, a half-glare that held less heat than it had earlier. By the time you made it to his room, you were fighting to keep your façade up, replaying how quick he’d been to help you and how his hand felt in yours on a loop. It seemed both of you were struggling to hold onto your hatred. As you crossed the threshold into a space that, until this point, seemed both forbidden and tainted, you felt a shift in the air. 
His space was a lived-in amount of messy; there was a half-full Starbucks cup on his desk, clothes on the floor, and his bed was unmade. He didn’t touch the light switch by the door, instead picking up a remote, the lamps connected to it casting a warm glow over the room. It felt cozy, you thought, and immediately frowned. Maybe it was just the alcohol talking.
He turned to you, t-shirt and shorts in hand, holding them out for you to take. “You can change here. I’ll wait outside for your clothes… Unless you want help.”
He grinned, his grip on the pile of clothes in both of your hands unrelenting, using your tugging on them as an excuse to crowd into your space. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Jisung?” you hissed back.
“I mean… I wouldn’t mind putting you in your place,” he practically purred, his free hand shifting to hover over your waist. “See if you still hate me so much when I’ve got you under me.” 
“As if your mediocre dick game could change my mind.” You weren’t sure if it was just the alcohol talking, but suddenly, you wanted nothing more than to test this theory.
His jaw set and his eyes narrowed, leaving a very different version of Han Jisung in front of you than you were used to. “I’ll show you mediocre,” he hissed, releasing his hold on his clothes and shoving you back toward his bed. “It’ll be anyone else you’ve had or will have.”
“What the fuck ever.” You rolled your eyes, letting his clean clothes drop to the floor, reaching up to grab his shirt and tug him toward you. “If we get caught, I’m blaming you,” you muttered, dragging him against you and crashing your lips together.
You felt him grin against you and you sank your teeth into his lower lip, pulling a quiet hiss from him. One of his hands snapped up, fisting into your hair to yank you back. The look on his face was one you wanted to either slap or kiss off of him; the line was too blurred now to tell which.
“Like it a little rough, do we?” He prodded, both his hands dropping to the hem of your shirt. He tugged it over your head in one fluid motion, your bra quickly joining it over his shoulder. He straightened back up, licking his lips hungrily as he took the opportunity to drink you in. “Wonder if I can still taste my drink…” he mused, quickly pressing you back against the mattress to latch his lips to your chest.
You groaned, half in frustration and half from pleasure. “Do you ever stop talking?”
He sunk his teeth into your breast sharply at your jab, a surprised squeak leaving you at the feeling. Almost immediately, he was releasing you and soothing the sting with his lips and tongue, no doubt attempting to leave behind a mark that, even if it weren’t visible, would be felt tomorrow. You let a quiet groan pass your lips, and Jisung pulled back with a quiet pop to grin at you.
“Still hate me?”
“Vehemently.”
He clicked his tongue. “Looks like I need to try harder, then.”
In a feat of strength you weren’t aware he was capable of, he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you, tossing you further onto the bed. You gasped, catching yourself on your elbows as he joined you, making quick work of the button and zipper of your shorts. With a swift tug, he’d pulled them down to your ankles and, with your help, they joined the rest of your clothes on the floor.
Suddenly aware of the disparity between yours and Jisung’s clothing, you sat up, hands grabbing at the hem of his shirt so you could bunch it up under his arms. “Off,” you demanded, and he quickly complied, tugging it over his head.
Before you could say another word or pull at his shorts, he slipped back down your body, his lips trailing wet warmth down your torso. The moment he reached the waistband of your underwear, he paused, gazing up at you through his lashes. “You’re sure about this?”
For the first time that night, he seemed unsure. His doe eyes were wide and open, an honesty behind them that the two of you didn’t usually share. It made your stomach twist and your heart skip a beat, and you nodded. 
“I thought you had something to prove,” you muttered in an attempt to ignore the tangle of feelings in your chest, tugging him down toward your core.
He grinned, pressing a kiss to your clothed heat before tugging your panties off. The moment they were gone, he was back between your legs, licking a fat stripe up over your folds before his lips attached themselves to your clit. You whined, high-pitched and heady, and he smirked up at you, pressing a kiss to your clit. “Like that, huh?” 
Your jaw clenched and you sighed heavily through your nose, your grip in his hair tightening until he winced. “Han Jisung, I swear if you don’t… Just shut up and fuck me or put your mouth to better use.”
“Your wish is my command,” he muttered as he pushed himself back up your body, your lips meeting again in a messy kiss. 
He pulled back before you did, wincing again as you tried to tug him back to you, both of you fumbling with his jeans. “Gotta let me up, baby,” he murmured between kisses. He was clinging just as desperately as you were, his lips barely parting from your own. “Condoms are in my desk.”
You huffed, annoyed, and flopped back against the mattress, releasing his scalp from your death grip. The sound pulled a quiet chuckle from him as he stood, finally unbuttoning his pants and darting across the small room to his desk drawer. He shucked both his pants and boxers to the floor as he made his way back, and it was everything you could do not to gawk, open-mouthed, at how unbelievably pretty he was. The arms you’d noticed earlier were only the beginning, apparently—his toned stomach and legs matching them perfectly in a stunning contrast to his round face. Fuck, even his cock was pretty, flushed and leaking as he rolled the condom over it. The last shred of your pride was the only thing keeping you from begging to wrap your lips around him first.
“Like what you see?” He broke the silence, and the self-satisfied look on his face told you he had most definitely caught you staring. 
“Keep running your mouth and I’ll leave you like this.”
The panic-stricken look that flashed in his eyes had you biting back laughter, but it was quickly replaced by something darker as he caught the grin on your face. He glared at you as he settled between your legs again, ducking down once more to suck hard on your clit.
“J-Jisung!” you gasped, hand snapping down to card into his hair again. The tight circles his tongue drew over the little bundle of nerves had pleasure rocketing up your spine, your entire body tensing with the sudden onslaught. As suddenly as that had begun, the stimulation shifted, his tongue darting between your folds to taste you, and you whined out his name once more. He groaned against you, giving your clit another harsh suck—one that nearly brought you over the edge—before he sat back on his heels again.
“Fuck, I love it when you moan my name,” he sighed, caging you in below him as he lined himself up with your entrance. “It sounds a lot prettier than all those nasty, empty threats.”
“Han,” you sighed, hips rolling toward his own.
He frowned disapprovingly and shifted his hips back, the hand that had been guiding his cock now pressing your hips into the mattress. “Not like that, sweetheart, c’mon. Say it right.”
“Didn’t I just tell you to quit talking?” you huffed, grabbing at his hips.
“Or put my mouth to better use, and I think at least one of those requests has been fulfilled.” 
The grin on his face was wide and you were once again hit with the urge to wipe it off his face. The surge of rage lasted only a moment, though, before he was teasing at your hole again and your breath caught in your throat. You melted under him, hand sliding up from his hips to grip at his shoulders.
“Jisung,” you breathed, hips rolling forward again. 
This time, you saw his shaky inhale as he did the same, quiet, broken sounds leaving you both as he finally filled you. He swallowed thickly, head tucking into your neck to pepper light kisses against your skin as he bottomed out, giving you both time to adjust. He was bigger than you’d expected, just thick enough to provide a pleasant stretch. You hummed, eyes slipping shut, and ground your hips against his.
“You have something to prove, don’t you, pretty boy?” You muttered against the shell of his ear, and you felt his shoulders shake with the chuckle that left him. “Fuck me like you hate me, Han Jisung.”
He propped himself up as his hips rolled back, the hand not bracing him wrapping around your back to lift your hips from the mattress. As his lips twitched up into a smirk, he slammed back into you, settling immediately into a ruthless pace. You managed to choke back the shout that left you halfway through it, nails sinking into his back as your jaw dropped open. Strained, needy sounds were punched out of you with every snap of his hips, matched by his own pants and groans as you scratched down his back. 
“This what you wanted?” he ground out, eyes narrowing when you gave no response. “Wanted me to—to fuck you stupid? Can’t even—mmph!”
You cut him off with your lips, swallowing his next deep groan and muffling your own squeak as he picked up his pace. The kiss devolved quickly into little more than sharing air, your bodies pressed tightly together as you chased your highs. One of your hands shifted from his shoulder, snaking between the two of you to rub at your cli and Jisung shifted as you did, pausing his rhythm to sit back on his heels and drag you with him. When he resumed his pace, the new angle had you crying out, your free hand fisting into the sheets and your eyes rolling back in your head. Distantly, you thought you heard him huff a laugh, but you were too far gone to care.
You were falling over the peak of your pleasure in moments, his name falling from your lips one last time. The sight of you alone, skin sweat-slicked and back arched in pleasure, was enough to bring Jisung to the edge of his own orgasm, and the sound of your voice sent him careening over it. He pulled your hips flush with his own and let his head fall back, basking in the feeling of your walls pulsing around him as he spilled into the condom. Both of you stilled, your eyes closed and only the sound of your shaky breathing filling the room as the weight of reality prodded at the edges of your foggy mind. You could stay suspended in this little fantasy for a moment longer, you decided.
Or, you would have, if not for the rapping at the door. You and Jisung shared a look of panic and scrambled apart, both grabbing for the top blanket on his bed as the door cracked open. Your stomach sank as Felix’s voice met your ears, his blue head of hair peeking around the corner.
“It’s almost midnight, dude, what are you—oh!”
You locked eyes with your best friend before you could pull the covers over your head, and heat immediately rushed to your face. Slowly, you sank underneath them anyway, unwilling to meet his gaze any longer.
He snapped back around it nearly immediately, pressing his back to the door as he finished. “Uh, nevermind! Midnight is soon, we had that, uh… thing planned, but… I’m gonna head back down, you two have fun!”
As the door snapped shut behind him, the silence that fell over you and Jisung felt heavy, and you just as slowly crept out from under the blankets. Meeting his eyes, you saw the same confusion you felt reflected in his stare. His eyes flickered rapidly over your face as he gnawed at his lower lip, searching for something, though you had no idea what.
“Still hate me?” He muttered, nearly immediately moving to discard the condom, busying himself to avoid meeting your gaze.
Your voice was shaky, the heat absent from it as you replied, “Vehemently.”
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banners & dividers, as usual, from the lovely @cafekitsune
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© July 2023 nebulousbrainsoup | all rights reserved. do not copy, repost or translate my work.
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andreafmn · 1 year
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Truth | Embry Call
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Word Count: 5.4K Paring: Embry Call x Female!Reader Requested: Yes [@come-on-darling-honey | @treatiseofselena | @pinkdragonfandream-blog] Story Description: Embry and (Y/N) getting together was inevitable, and it seemed that the universe concurred. A/N: The requests didn't have any details so I grouped them together (hope that's okay.) I've never gravitated toward Embry so at first I had no idea what or how to write this.But I hope I did him justice with this fluffy friend-to-lovers. Now, I will definitely post more about him because I fell in love with my version of him 🤭🤭 Also, I'm trying to organize myself and my writing to upload more consistently, but chronic illnesses, family, and life always get in the way. Thank you to all of you who have bear with me for so long 🤍🤍 My content will always be free, but if you’re feeling particularly generous, you can leave a tip on any of my posts to support me and my love of writing or buy me a coffee TikTok • Instagram • Business | MASTERLIST If you’d like to be tagged in any other story: click here Make sure you have my notifications on so you know every time I post!
Truth | Embry Call Oneshot
For the longest time, it had always been Jake, Quil, Embry, and (Y/N). The four of them had been friends since their childhood and had quickly become inseparable. If one was in sight, the probability that the other three were close behind was high. The group was simply thick as thieves. 
But there were two in particular that grew closer than the others. 
(Y/N) and Embry seemed to gravitate toward each other. Even when the four friends were together, the duo would be standing side-by-side. They understood each other in a way that Jake and Quil did not. Even without words, they could speak a language that no one else could understand. 
“You guys should just get together already,” Jacob had teased one day. “I mean, we all know it’s gonna happen sooner or later. Any day now you’ll tell us you’re a couple.”
“Oh please, Jake,” Quil laughed. “These two would be single their whole lives before they admit they like each other.” 
(Y/N) had thrown pieces of popcorn at them, chuckling dryly at their statements. “We’re just friends, guys,” she retorted. “With that logic, you and Quil should get together too.” 
“It’s just a joke, (Y/N). There’s no need to get so pissed.” 
“I’m not,” she quickly defended. “It’s just annoying that you guys bother us so much about it.” 
At that moment, Embry walked into the living room. He was quiet, as always, but vigilant. His eyes fell quickly onto (Y/N)’s. He could tell in an instant that something —more like someone— had made her feel embarrassed. 
“Guys, leave her alone already,” he quickly defended. “Can we not go one night without you guys bothering her?” 
“You don’t even know what happened!” Jake whined. “You always take her side.” 
“Well, 99% of the time you guys did actually do something to her,” Embry responded. “And I would bet everything I have that it’s not a 1% kind of occasion.” 
Quick and Jake slouched into the sofa, crossing their arms over their chests in defeat. Even though they were all similar in age, there was a sense of maturity in Embry that was unparalleled. At the end of the day, he was the voice of reason within the group. 
“There we go again. Her knight in shining armor,” Jake grumbled. “And they say they don’t have a thing for each other.” 
After the movies were done, Quil had long gone, and Jake mumbled something about going to bed, Embry offered to walk (Y/N) home. It was something he had accustomed to doing but it still made her stomach do a turn on itself. 
“So, what were those idiots talking about?” 
“The usual,” she sighed. Her hand was inches away from his. A simple stumble and she could have intertwined them. “How one day you and I will become a couple because of how well we get on.” 
“Oh,” he said coyly. 
“I know I should be used to it by now, but it can get pretty annoying, pretty fast.” 
Embry’s heart started to race as he listened to her words. He knew just how infuriating their friends could be, especially when it came to bothering people. But it only upset him because he did like her. 
At some point in time, his best friend had turned into the girl that he loved. She had become the protagonist of all of his fantasies, the reason for having a smile on his face, what he looked forward to every day. Somehow, she had become his center.  
“Why do you find it annoying?” Embry managed to croak out, suddenly finding his hands more interesting than the road ahead. “Like would it be that terrible?” 
“No,” she answered quickly. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she was repulsed by him. Because all she wanted was him. 
Much like Embry, she didn’t know when that shift had happened. He was her best friend, her closest confidant, the only person that knew her better than she knew herself. But somewhere along the line, her heart would flutter at his nearness, a smile painted on her face at the mention of his name, her eyes trailed to his in every room they were in. 
“I don’t, uh. I don’t think it would be terrible,” she spoke meekly. “Do you?”
They stopped in their tracks, finally facing each other. 
“I could never find being with you terrible,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. With a surge of bravery, his hand lifted to her face, tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear. “It would honestly be a dream come true.” 
(Y/N) gasped quietly at the sudden touch. Her breath hitched in her throat and her hand flew to grasp at his forearm. “Embry, w-what… what’re you saying?” 
“I like you, (Y/N), and I have for a long time,” he told her. His brown eyes stared intensely into hers, looking for any sign that he was losing her. “I’m not sure when it happened but one day you slipped into my head and you have not left it since. That’s why it doesn’t bother me. Because deep down I’ve always hoped that day would come.” 
“Embry, I…” She stammered searching for her words, but nothing came out. 
“I understand if you don’t feel the same way,” he said sadly. “But I had to tell you already. It’s been eating me up inside for a long time and I had to confess before it consumed me completely.”
“No, Embry, I do,” she choked on her words, feeling the knot in her throat tightening as she spoke. Even if he was saying exactly what she had wanted to hear, emotions overwhelmed her. “God, I like you too. For a while now. I just never had the courage to say anything because I didn’t want to lose your friendship. You mean a lot to me.” 
“So we’ve been tip-toeing around each other for no reason then?” Embry laughed. “Are we seriously that oblivious to feelings?” 
“It appears so,” she responded with a chuckle. “What does this mean for us, Em? Where do we go from here?” 
“Well, first, I was thinking I could kiss you,” he smiled. “Can I?”
“I would die if you didn’t.” 
His hands cradled her face softly, his thumbs caressing over the apex of her cheekbones. He nuzzled his nose against hers, teasing her lips with his. He ghosted over the pink of her skin, wishing to the gods that he wasn’t in another one of his dreams. 
When he finally gave in, his lips crashed into hers and he could swear he felt the earth around him stop. There was no gravity, no air, no cold or warmth, it was simply him and (Y/N), and that was all that existed on Earth. 
“What’re we gonna tell the guys?” (Y/N) said as soon as they parted for air. “They’ll never let us live this down. And, honestly, I don’t think I could stand their pestering once they know they were right.” 
“We don’t have to tell them,” he responded, intertwining his hand with hers comfortingly as they continued their walk to her home. “We can have this just for ourselves for the time being. It will be our little secret.” 
“As much as I would love to shout it from the rooftops,” she smiled brightly. “But I like this too. Having something that is just for us. Something they can’t ruin.” 
“That does sound great, actually.” 
“Good. Because I don’t want anyone to ruin this. Especially not those two.” 
And for a couple of months, it was perfect. To their friends, it was business as usual. They were as friendly as ever, always by each other’s side, and taking Quil and Jake’s teasing with a grain of salt. No one could have known just how true their jokes had become. 
They got around with stolen glances, hidden corners, and nights. And how they loved their nights. They would spend hours curled up in each other’s arms after Embry would sneak into her room. They would talk about nothing and everything, they would sleep, and they would kiss. 
It was an easy routine to follow and they fell into it quickly and perfectly. In the morning, they were the best of friends. At night, they were falling more and more in love. 
At least, that’s what (Y/N) had thought.
She had fallen for him. Deeply. He meant everything to her and she thought the feeling was mutual. But when the first week of the second semester of their junior year came to a start and Embry had disappeared, she knew something was wrong. 
Not only had he missed school, but he also had completely iced out Jake, Quil, and, most importantly, (Y/N). He wouldn’t answer her calls, he stopped coming over, and he was nowhere to be found. Even his mother had told her that he wasn’t acting like himself and she was very surprised at his behavior. 
What none of them knew —what she didn’t know— was that Embry was going through the most surreal of transformations. He wanted to tell his friends, he wanted to tell her everything. 
Yet, bringing them into a world where the stories the elders told around the bonfire were real was something he could not do. Even if it meant that they never talked again, he would make sure to keep them safe from the dangers they did not know were real. 
He did everything he could to avoid (Y/N) specifically. He would never say it, or even think it now, but he was scared he’d do to her what Sam had accidentally done to Emily. Love wouldn’t protect her from what he was and what he could do to her. Avoiding her hurt, but not as much as it would if he did anything to her. 
But that Friday, after he had missed a whole week of school and he’d expertly avoided his group of friends for the past four days, everything had changed. As Embry walked the halls, careful not to run into any of his three friends, his eyes caught hers. 
That’s when it happened. The moment that changed his entire world. It hadn’t been meeting his friends, it hadn’t been his first kiss with (Y/N), and it hadn’t been his first phase as a shapeshifter. It was the universe telling him that it was her, and it would always be her. 
And it scared him. 
As she tried to move through the sea of students to get to him, all he could do was run away. Though deep down he hoped it was her once he knew what imprinting was, his fears of repeating history had grown. 
“Embry!” He heard her call out. “ Embry, wait!” 
But he was already out the doors and running to the only place he could think of. His brain was going a million miles a minute and his heart was tugging at his chest, begging to be with the piece that was missing from it. 
He opened the door to the small house, hoping anyone was inside. His breathing was staggered and his chest was hammering. He was panicking and had no idea how to make it stop. 
“Woah, Embry,” Sam called out. “I’m gonna need you to calm down, okay? You’ve gotta breathe, Call. Breathe.” 
“She’s… and I didn’t… I don’t,” he tried to speak. 
“Slow down, Embry.” 
“I can’t… I can’t do this to her,” the boy managed to croak out. “Not her.” 
“Is this about you imprinting today?”
“How did you…?” 
“Mind link, Embry,” the alpha reminded him. “I know everything that happens to you. Who is she?”
Embry sighed deeply, taking a seat at the dining table. “She’s my best friend,” he said. “And these past few months she became so much more.”
“She’s your girlfriend then?” 
“Well, we never labeled it as much,” he responded. “But kind of. Yeah.”
“Then why are you so worried? This is the best-case scenario.” 
“I don’t want to put her in danger. And her knowing the truth would put her right in the middle of it.” 
“And you don’t want what happened to Emily to happen to her,” Sam said softly. Embry’s eyes went wide as he realized what the man had said, quickly struggling to find a redeeming answer. “Don’t worry, Call. I wouldn’t want that to happen to anyone, for that matter. And as scary as it is to tell her the truth, you have to. As the days go by, you will both find it harder and harder to keep away from each other. It will be physically painful to stay apart.” 
“I can’t do that to her. She deserves to be safe,” he silently sobbed. “The further away she is from me, the better it will be for her. I can’t hurt her if I’m not with her.” 
Sam couldn’t help but feel pity for the boy. He had been in that very position not too long ago, running from the people he loved, fearing the hurt he could cause them. But he also knew how he could cause just as much pain by staying away. 
“Look, Embry, I won’t tell you what you have to do,” he said. “But speaking from experience, running away does more harm than good. Whether you like it or not, she is now a part of this world and the best way to protect her is by telling her the truth. Unlike with your mom, the secret of our tribe has to be shared with our imprints. She’s gonna need to understand why it hurts so much to stay away from you.” 
“What if things go bad?” Embry asked dolefully. “What if telling her pushes her away regardless?” 
“That is just something you’ll have to leave to chance,” Sam sighed. “But if you need any backup if you choose to tell her, you know Emily and I are here and happy to help.” 
“Thanks, Sam,” the boy responded. “But I think this is something I have to do by myself. I’m gonna tell her tonight and hope for the best.” 
“Well, I’ll be doing patrol tonight. So, if at my point you need me, just call out.”
---
“Wait, you actually saw him here?” Jake asked that afternoon as the three friends left the school. “I heard he was back but I have not seen him the whole week.” 
“He was standing in the middle of the hallway this morning and I tried to get to him,” (Y/N) explained. “But he ran away and literally disappeared. What the hell is going on with him?” 
“Apparently he’s been sneaking out of his house for a while now,” Quil added, making (Y/N)’s heart wrench in her chest. “And his mom says he wasn’t home that week he skipped school.” 
“I heard he’s been hanging out with Sam Uley’s gang,” Jake whispered. “That could explain why he’s acting so weird. He got involved with some shady shit.”
“Guys, this is Embry we’re talking about,” the girl defended, holding onto any hope that he was still the boy she loved. “Do you really think he would do something like that?” 
“You keep trying to defend your little boyfriend but it’s clear he wants nothing to do with any of us,” Jake spat. 
“He’s our friend, Jake,” (Y/N) seethed. “Sorry for actually believing there might be something else happening other than he might have joined a dangerous gang and has left us for dead.” 
“(Y/N)…”
“Whatever, guys. I’ll see you on Monday.”
She left both boys dumbfounded and disappeared into her home. Once inside she crashed against her front door and allowed the tears that were stinging her eyes to flow free. 
(Y/N) couldn’t accept that she had truly lost Embry. She couldn’t admit that she had fallen for someone that could act like she meant nothing to them, that could forget every moment they spent together, that could ignore everything they had admitted to her. She had trusted him with her heart and he had decided to shatter it without another thought. 
Somehow she had made her way to her bedroom and had crashed on her bed. When her eyes fluttered open again the sun had completely set and the moon was shining brightly in the sky. In the darkness, she searched for her phone, feeling the need to apologize to Quil and Jake for snapping at them. 
Yet, her screen lit up with Embry’s caller ID, showing her that it was the fifth call in the last twenty minutes. She debated answering the phone, wanting to make him feel just like she had the last two weeks. 
But her resolution was too weak.
“What?” (Y/N) spat. 
“Come to your window.” 
She walked to her window, her gaze falling on his figure on the road. Tears were quick to form in the corners of her eyes, her emotions close to their bursting point. “What do you want, Embry?” she asked through the phone, careful to keep her voice from cracking. “It’s late.” 
“I know, but I really need to talk to you, (Y/N).”
“So, you show up after two weeks of dead silence. Your hair is all chopped up, you’ve got a tattoo, and apparently, you’ve been hanging with Sam Uley’s gang. And you just come here and tell me now you wanna talk,” she scoffed. “Give me one reason why I should give you the time of day after all that?” 
“I know I don’t deserve another chance and you have every right to turn me away right now,” he told her. “But I promise if you give me a couple of minutes I can explain everything to you. After that, you can decide what you want to do. Please, (Y/N).” 
She kept quiet for a second, knowing that she didn’t have much to think about. Her heart knew exactly what she would answer before she could say it out loud. “Fine,” she said. “You’ve got ten minutes.” 
“Alright,” he smiled. “Come down.”
She couldn’t help the eagerness that overtook her as she wrapped a jacket around her and silently slipped out the door. And once she was face to face with him, it took everything in her not to run and wrap her arms around Embry. 
“Hey,” he smiled softly at her. “Been a while.” 
“Not really in the mood for jokes, Embry,” she responded. “I came out here to hear you explain. So explain.” 
“Okay, but I’m gonna need us to move into the woods.” 
“I’m not going into the woods with you, Em. Just tell me already.”
“Look, I know this is weird but I need you to trust me, okay?” he asked giving her those puppy dog eyes that she had missed so much. The same eyes he’d give her when he begged for a kiss or when he pleaded for a couple of more minutes away from their friends. “Please.” 
“Fine,” she sighed. “But your time is down to eight minutes.” 
“Alright. Just, come on.” 
Without thinking, he took hold of her hand, leading her to the darkness of the woods, searching for a place where no passersby could accidentally see him. 
(Y/N) found herself allowing him to drag her, remembering just how comforting his warmth was. Especially on such a cold night in January, it surprised her just how high his temperature felt. 
Once they were deep enough and Embry had halted them to a stop, she forced herself to drop his hand. She didn’t want him to forget the anger that still rushed through her veins, the disappointment that had found a home in her heart, and the hurt that she felt in every inch of her body. 
“Go ahead,” she told him, crossing her arms across her chest to keep them from reaching toward him. 
“Alright, first of all, I want to apologize for disappearing like that. It wasn’t fair to you or the guys. But you need to understand that I couldn’t tell you at the beginning,” he started. “(Y/N), what I’m about to tell you is gonna sound like the biggest lie you have heard, and you might even think that I’ve lost my mind. Still, everything I say is the honest truth.”
“Em, you’re scaring me,” she responded. “What’re you talking about?” 
Embry took a deep breath, finding every ounce of strength to be able to finally tell her the truth, to wrap her in the web of the supernatural and hope he was strong enough to keep her from the dangers of it. “Okay, I’m gonna need you to think back to all the stories our parents and the elders would tell us around the bonfire,” he said. “How our Quileute ancestors were shapeshifters and how it was their job to protect our land. When we were kids we thought that those were only stories, myths to keep us children entertained. But it’s real, (Y/N). Those stories weren’t just fantasies, they are our history. 
“The reason I disappeared was because I am now one of those shapeshifters. It happened the Saturday before starting school, at the back-to-school bonfire, when that guy was hitting on you when I walked away for a second,” he continued. His eyes never left hers, hoping —begging— that she believed him. “It happened so suddenly and I thought I was dying. I could feel anger taking over my entire body, filling me with this overheating rush that burned deep inside. 
“It was Jared Cameron that found me. He pulled me into the woods and I was so angry that I couldn’t even process what was happening. He kept telling me to give in to the change to listen to my body and allow it to do what it needed to. Suddenly, my clothes were ripped to shreds and I was this huge wolf. 
“After, Sam Uley and Paul Lahote joined him and walked me through shifting back, telling me to focus on my human form. It felt like everything around me was shaking, reacting to the way my body was transforming. And somehow, at just the right moment, I changed back into my human self. 
“I spent that week learning to control my emotions so I wouldn’t trigger a phase in front of everyone, learning about our history and our role in the rez. It turns out, those guys aren’t a gang, they’re actually a pack and our job is to protect the reservation from anything, supernatural or not, that threatens our land. No one can know about our existence other than the elders and current pack members.” 
“Wait, I don’t get it,” she stammered, her head spinning with all the information she was given. “This whole talk about wolves and supernatural beings… it’s crazy, Embry! A completely convoluted way of telling me it’s over.” 
“I can show you,” he added. “Just don’t move even an inch from where you are right now.” 
“What’re you…? Embry.” 
He put some distance between them, making sure he was safely away from her. He removed his shirt and unbuttoned his pants, ensuring his clothes were close enough when he phased back. He knew just how impossible everything he had said sounded. If he hadn’t phased that night, there was no way he would have believed it. 
But he needed her to believe him. 
One second he was standing before her in human form, and the next, a tall gray wolf with black spots was staring her down. She stumbled back as her eyes met the animal’s, a slight rush of fear flowing through her veins. 
Yet, she knew those brown eyes too well to be afraid for long. They were unmistakably Embry’s and they replaced her anxiety with a calming stream.  Something about him was calling to her, beckoning her to come closer. There was no danger, there was no panic, there was only calm. 
(Y/N) made her way closer to the creature, every step filling her with courage. The wolf didn’t move, his eyes simply followed her, waiting. Because he was the tactable answer to all of her questions. 
Her shaking hand raised and landed on the soft fur of the wolf’s head. As soon as she made contact, Embry nudged it, giving her the confirmation she was looking for. It was him and it was all true.
“You’re a wolf,” she softly chuckled. “You’re in front of me right now and you’re a giant wolf.” 
Embry let out a confirming growl that sounded almost like a laugh and nuzzled his nose against her. The small force knocked her back softly, siphoning from her the laugh he had missed hearing. 
“But if no one is supposed to know about you guys, why are you telling me all this?” (Y/N) asked before realizing he could not answer in his form. “Change back already. I have so many questions.” 
In the blink of an eye, Embry stood before her, scrambling to get dressed. “This is the most awkward part of phasing back,” he chuckled dryly. “It’s worse when you’re surrounded by guys you barely know.”
“Yeah, I can imagine,” she sympathized. “Now, why me? Why am I the only one that you’re telling this to? Jake and Quil truly believe you’ve joined a gang and left us in the dust.” 
“Well, as with most things, there is an exception to the rules. One person that is allowed to know everything, even if they’re not members of the pack,” he explained slowly. “There’s something that happens after your shift that involves that person. It’s called imprinting. I’m the most basic definition: it's a soulmate. You are unconditionally bound to this person for the rest of your life, becoming whatever it is that they need from you —a sibling, a friend, a partner. Anything. 
“Your whole world changes,” he continued, his hands taking hers. “They become your gravity, your very reason for living. Even being apart feels physically painful. Everything falls secondary to them, and all it takes is one look.”
“This morning,” she breathed. (Y/N) had felt something change when they had locked eyes in the hall. His absence had become a harrowing pit in her stomach. “But I…”
“The bond affects the imprint as well,” Embry answered before she could ask. “But nothing happens without them wanting it. You are only what the imprint wants.”
“So it’s me,” she said, trying to hold back tears, her eyes falling to where their hands were clasped. “Is that why you ran away this morning? Because you imprinted on me? Was it… did you not want it to be me?” 
“No! I mean yes! I wanted it to be you,” he rapidly scrambled for his response. “But I was afraid of what the implications of you being my imprint would be.” 
“What do you mean?” 
“First of all, I could never forgive myself if I was the reason you were ever in danger,” Embry started, his hand cradling her cheek to lift her gaze to his, wiping away the strand that had fallen. “But what I was most afraid of was that it would make you feel things that you might not have felt had it not been for this supernatural intervention.”
“I’m not following, Em.” 
“Look, (Y/N), I love you —I’m in love with you. And I have been for a long time,” he confessed. “And even though I know you like me and we spent all this time together, I was afraid that if you felt more for me it would be because of the imprint bond and not really how you would have felt without it.” 
Finally, it was her turn to comfort him. “Em, I think I’ve loved you since the moment we met,” she grinned. “I don’t need a supernatural link to tell me how I have felt about you for the majority of my life. And I understand why you had to keep all of this from us. As much as I would love for Jake and Quil to know how much of an amazing badass my boyfriend is, we know how well I can keep a secret.”
Embry’s eyes opened wide at the word, loving how it sounded coming from her lips. “Boyfriend? You called me your boyfriend!” 
“Is that not what you are?” 
“Yes. Yes! And you’re my girlfriend!” he exclaimed as he hugged her waist tightly, twirling her in a hug. “God, being without you has made this the worst two weeks of my life.”
“I can tell,” she teased. “I mean you lost my favorite thing about you. I’m really gonna miss your hair.” 
“Unless you braid the wolf’s hair, I’m afraid we’re stuck with the short hair for a while.” 
“I can work with that as long as you don’t ever disappear like that again.” 
“I promise I will never willingly do that,” he responded. “I can assure you these past two weeks have been hell.” 
“Well, we won’t have that time back. But we can make sure we don’t lose any more.”
“I like the sound of that,” he grinned.
He placed both hands on either side of (Y/N)’s face, nuzzling his nose to hers as he had done the first time they kissed. He breathed in her scent. He listened to the patter of her heart, to the sound of her breath. He took her in completely at the moment, memorizing how she looked when they told each other they loved one another. 
“Are you gonna make me wait?” she let out a strangled breath. “Or are you gonna kiss me already?” 
“You waited two weeks already,” he teased. 
“So I’ve waited long enough,” she bit back. “Now kiss me, you dork.” 
Finally, he crashed his lips onto hers and everything felt like it had fallen where it was supposed to. There had never been secrets between them, and, now, there never had to be any more. The universe had simply confirmed what they already felt. 
---
“Well, Quil, looks like you’re gonna have to pay up, my man,” Jake joked a couple of months after that fateful night. All discord between the friends had died the second the boys that were kept in the dark phases as well. “I told you these two had been together for a while.” 
“No, you owe me,” he retorted. “They got together closer to the timeline I had set.” 
“Actually,” Embry interjected, his arm draped over (Y/N)’s shoulders. “If you look at the board of bets, you’ll see that I had put down the actual date and time that we got together.” 
“But that’s not fair! When we made that bet board we had no idea you two were actually together,” Quil whined. “There’s no way that should be an admissible bet.” 
“Not knowing the facts doesn’t exempt you from it,” (Y/N) chuckled. “A bet that falls under the set rules for that pile will remain intact, even if it’s under a loophole.”
“Of course you’ll say that, (Y/N),” Jake scoffed. “He’s your boyfriend after all.” 
“Don’t forget imprintee,” she grinned. “Now, both of you, cough up those twenty bucks.” 
Later that afternoon and forty bucks richer, (Y/N) and Embry sat in the Uley’s backyard, watching the other boys playing football farther away from the bonfire Sam had started. They had curled up together under a blanket, enjoying the fact that they were together, and the world seemed to grant them a day of peace. 
“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” Embry whispered into her ear, pressing her tighter to him. “Because I do. So much.” 
“Hm,” she smiled, melting into his touch. “You’ve told me once or twice. But I’ll never get tired of hearing it. Because I love you too.”
“And I’ll never get tired of saying it.” 
“Good,” she beamed. “Because you’re stuck with me until the end.” 
“Couldn’t think of a better life than that.” 
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fairuzfan · 3 months
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Your post about how many people are unknowingly falling for & spreading propaganda... yeah. I typed up a whole spiel of a comment on one of your posts the other day that I ended up deciding not to not actually post because it felt like detailing, but seriously. The amount of well meaning, genuinely anti-zionist people ignorantly sharing zionists' posts because they just don't pick up on the leading undertones is honestly more terrifying than than the amount of actual zionists in some ways.
I'm someone who was born into a doomsday cult, and seeing all these people falling for the exact same blatant (or so i thought lol) recruitment/manipulation tactics I've seen used by them my entire life has absolutely fucking terrifying. These are people who are actively trying to combat zionism, but I guess the general public is so uneducated about propaganda/cult tactics that what immediately reads as blatantly manipulative, misleading bullshit to me just doesn't even register as strange to most people. Not to be repetitive, but seriously: fucking terrifying.
There's so much focus on the way people/groups who want to manipulate you will use language of fear, but in this case especially, people need to realize they will almost always appeal to your compassion before they appeal to your fear.
It's all peace and love and happiness because that's what gets people in the door. You preach (or post) the mushy, happy, fun stuff that makes people feel good to draw them in, and you slowly start peppering in the ideas you actually want to lead them to believe later on once you've got them wanting to believe you.
This also has this added effect of helping the group or person's image. Even the people who you don't manage to draw in will have the impression of you as someone who runs their mouth 24/7 about how you're full of love and want the best for everyone, which is especially useful for when you inevitably want to frame yourself as the victim to demonize the people who will inevitably oppose you. If your first and only exposure to a person is seeing them calling for world peace and universal love, you are much more likely to be inclined to believe they (and by extension their cause) are the sympathetic, loving, peaceful good guys being unjustly targeted.
Sorry for rambling, but like... really. It won't always be something nefarious, of course--the vast majority of the the time, it won't be--but I think we would all be in a much better situation if people took it as a general rule of thumb that you should always be a little suspicious of overly vague talk about peace and love.
You're EXACTLY right. I really appreciate this message, because you put to words a lot of my inherent analysis of arguments and ideas. I like grew up with this rhetoric so it's easy to spot for me, but the way that people speak about "peace" as the overall goal when they're zionist is so blatant to me because there is no material change in the scenario they propose but rather a calmness where Palestinians are ignored.
And picking up on subtext of a lot of messages is something you have to have a muscle for kinda because of how subtle it is. The frightening part is, you're right, that the indoctrination part of zionism is the most harmful part because you appeal to their pathos — their fear, their sense of safety, etc — and you go on down the rabbit hole and slowly start being radicalized and pro-zionism or you might not even be pro-zionism 100% but enjoy... soft zionism as a mutual of mine put it once (if you read this and want to be tagged, lmk). Which soft zionism is the MAIN opinion in many liberal circles btw, its not an uncommon opinion.
I even remember once sharing a post by a zionist because i saw them talk about esims but when i went on their blog a few days later because something rubbed me the wrong way, I noticed their pinned and I was like "oh dam I gotta delete that other post" like that's how often this happens.
Idk, I try to combat this by putting sources or approaching from a standpoint of logical arguments rather than identity-based politics (although, sometimes i think there are some things that people who are a certain identity can be the only true experts on) so that I try to encourage actual engagement with ideas and walking them through thought processes rather than "I'm palestinian so just trust me."
Like even with my one fact checking list, idk if I succeeded but I wanted to emphasize that there are multiple factors you should consider when confronting ANY sort of information and should not blindly trust things. News sources have regularly burned or ignored Palestinians so I know a lot of us are really sensitive to these things, but I don't know! I hope people can engage with ideas more than just surface level thinking in general because it helps everyone when you actually interact with the point of view the other person is providing rather than just blindly trusting/distrusting people.
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alltimefail-sims · 1 year
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I've been meaning to make this post for a while because there are always arguments and frustrations regarding WCIFs here on simblr. With new users and simblrs popping up every day, I thought it wise to take a few minutes to inform people on this topic as some people really might not even know what WCIF means or what the universally acceptable way to approach WCIF asks is.
WCIF is shorthand for "where can I find..."
If you are a simblr, it is a good idea to clarify in your blog's bio if you are open to messages asking about cc, that way people visiting your blog don't have to guess. You can indicate this by saying you are either WCIF Friendly or WCIF Unfriendly/No WCIFs. If someone is WCIF friendly, it means that they welcome messages in their ask box regarding where to find a certain mod, piece of cc, etc. If someone is WCIF unfriendly, this means they do not welcome messages in their ask box of this nature.
When someone is WCIF unfriendly, you should respect their terms and boundaries by not sending them a message asking where to find something for the sims. Yes, this means even "well-intended" asks that are ultra polite are not welcome to them (which is perfectly okay). Instead, first check if the user has a "CC Finds" sideblog where they reblog the cc they use.
If they don't have a "CC Finds" blog where they essentially archive the cc they use, you can make a post on your own blog with a screenshot (with a link to the original post) and/or a description of the cc you're looking for and tag it as public wcif, this way people can respond if they know what the mod or cc is. There are also reddit threads for sims 4 wcifs you can post on. If you don't want to do any of that, try googling it by description! You'd be surprised how intuitive the results can be.
On the other hand, if someone is WCIF friendly they are open to helping you find a specific piece of cc for the sims, but you should always send them a WCIF in their ask box, not through a private message or a comment on their post. This is so they can make one public post and avoid inquiries about the same cc over and over again. They will likely tag these posts on their page as "WCIF," so be sure to check their tags before you ask them about a piece of cc because they might have already linked to it in a different ask!
It should go without saying, but even though someone is WCIF friendly this doesn't mean you can disregard kindness when it comes to asking someone a favor. Say hi, ask politely (please and thank you go a long way ya know!), and be patient. People who are wcif friendly choose to take their time to link cc for others, so they're doing you a favor...be nice!
I think I covered the basics as simply as I could; the most important thing is to remember that there are real people on the other side of simblr blogs, and whether they have 13,000 followers or 3 they deserve to be respected. Just be kind and respect people's boundaries. I hope this helps someone, and if you didn't know about any of this... now you know! 👍
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