Tumgik
#i have no strong feelings about this at all
mostly-imagines · 2 days
Text
So This Is Love
jason todd x fem!reader
aka you show each other what love is supposed to be like
4 in 1 blurbs
warnings: section 1: close-call panic attack for j, mentions of ptsd for j // section 2: implied sexual activity // section 3: mild angst w comfort // section 4: implied ptsd for j
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
He feels like his heart might burst through his chest.
The nightmare wasn’t anything unusual for him, but it did feel particularly vivid tonight. It was more of a memory than anything, though. That same one that plays on a loop in his head throughout the night the more he tries to push it away during the day. It was the last thwack of the crowbar that had him jolt awake in bed.
You shift in your spot next to him, opening your eyes to see his rattled state. If he’d been in a clearer frame of mind he would’ve lied to you. He would’ve expertly leveled his breathing and told you everything was fine and to go back to sleep.
But instead, he looks over at you with wide eyes, chest heaving and shaking like he might start hyperventilating at any moment.
You shoot up from the bed, instantly on alert. This isn’t the first time he’s had one of these nightmares around you, so it’s not hard for you to guess where this is coming from.
“Jay? What’s—what do you need?” You know better than to try and touch him unprompted right now, you’ve panicked enough yourself to know that sudden contact only makes it worse.
“I—I can’t, I—” Now he really looks like he’s about to lose all control of his breathing.
You sit up further, moving onto your knees. “Here, let me—can I see your hand?” you ask gently, holding your own out.
He extends it to you without question, a tiny act of vulnerability that he couldn’t have dreamed of doing in this state before he met you.
You flip his hand over, palm-up and start tracing lines over it in the moonlight. You’re looking at his hand quite intently like there’s something very important on it. It’s enough to make him question what the hell you’re doing. 
“I can read palms.” You tell him, simply. 
“What?” His voice almost breaks, like he’s right at the edge of tears. 
“Yeah, my friend taught me. I can tell the future and everything.” You look up at him, fingers not stopping their trailing. “Do you wanna hear yours?”
All he can do is nod.
You smile and start to inspect his hand carefully, tracing over calluses and a few tiny scars. You draw your finger across the short, deep line parallel to his fingers.
“This one…see the way it curves upwards right there?” He nods. “That means you’re very resourceful and ambitious. Like a leader.” His breathing starts to slow as he watches you, trying to focus on what you’re showing him in the dim light from the window.
“And this one,” you trace the line that curves downwards in the middle, “This one says that you’re strong and stubborn, which I can confirm,” he huffs out a laugh. It’s little but it’s genuine. “But it also means that you’re resilient. You’re built to overcome things and bounce back even stronger because of them. Which I can also confirm.”
He leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. He takes in a deep breath, watching you draw patterns across the base of his palm.
The sensation soothes him in a way that he frankly didn’t know he could be soothed. He figures he usually can’t, except when it’s you. He tries to match your breathing, syncing up with you. If anyone else tried to get this close to him when he was on the verge of a panic attack they’d get punched, at best.
But you…you always know how to help him. He’s considered in the past that he did something really right somewhere down the line and you were sent to him as reward. He’d racked his mind for hours of every good thing he’d ever done, trying to find one that could explain your presence in his life. For anything that could explain why he deserved you. He poured and poured over every memory he could dig up but couldn’t find any good he’d ever done that surmounted to a single piece of the good in your heart.
There was a time when he would’ve thought—when he did think that you were only in his life to be taken away as soon as he felt safe. That would certainly be in line with previous experiences. But you showed him quickly that you have this way about you…it makes those loud thoughts in the back of his head shut up and just listen. Listen to your words, your breathing, your footsteps, your laugh…anything he could. Because it turns out, when he listens, he feels safe. 
He’s quiet for a long time, contentedly watching you work. He notices that at some point you’d stopped tracing the lines and began drawing designs instead. 
He breaks the silence after several minutes, softly commenting, “You don’t know how to read palms.”
“No, I do not.” 
But you continued to leave your invisible art on the palm of his hand just the same, both of you taking comfort in the sound of the other's breathing and the soothing feeling of each other’s skin.
Tumblr media
The radio plays lightly in the background, surrounding your night with soft ambience. You’re working at the cutting board with tomatoes as Jason leans against the counter next to you, having just finished getting the pasta set up on the stove.
His hands find your hips, resting them there as he watches you work over your shoulder.
“Watch your thumb.” He comments when the knife gets a little too close for his liking.
You shrug him off, “I know how to do it.”
He eyes the way the knife stutters as you cut through the tomato, slicing through not very cleanly at all. “Doesn’t look like it.”
You ignore him, elbowing him gently in the abdomen. He’s joking, but he’s not. The skill level you’re displaying is only above Bruce and slightly below Tim, which is not great.
“Will you let me do it?” he asks you when he realizes there’s going to be no improvement. 
“Fine.” You relent with faux annoyance. 
You switch over to the stovetop, keeping a careful eye on the pasta as it cooks. It’s quiet for a moment as he works, chopping with much more efficiency than you had.  
“You didn’t have to stay here tonight, you know.” You say quietly, still intently watching the stove.
In spite of the music, your low volume does nothing to faze him as he continues his actions, “Why wouldn’t I?”
You stir the contents of the saucepan around. “Well, I know Roy wanted you to go out…”
“Not missing much.” He mumbles, opening up the above cabinet to get out plates.
You lull your head to the side, “Come on, he’s your best friend.”
Jason frowns. “He’s not my best friend.”
You turn your head towards him, “No?”
He meets your gaze, frown consistent. “No. You are.” He says it like he’s confused that you don’t know that. 
“Oh.” You smile, “You’re my best friend too.”
His eyes soften at that, a light smile gracing his lips. He knew that, and he knew you’d say it, but hearing it out loud just…does something to him.
You flick the stove top off, prompting him to on instinct reach for the Marinara jar and crack it open for you. He hands it to you and you accept with a smile, twisting it open the rest of the way as you turn back to the stove. The jar sputters as you open, spitting out sauce.    
“Oh, shit.” You hiss, when the splatter hits your shirt.
He takes one glance at the mess on your shirt and pulls his own shirt off his back. He’s tugging yours off just as fast, replacing it with his. You’ve barely processed what happened as he scans your body, eyes lingering on where his shirt stops at your thighs. “Can you wear this to bed tonight?” He asks, hands running over your waist.
You laugh, “Really?”
He meets your eyes, face serious. “Yes.” He squeezes your hip, “You look good.”
“In your shirt.” You say with a knowing smile.
“In my shirt.” He confirms.
You turn back to the stove to dish out the salsa, his hands skimming around your thighs as you do. He watches you as you work, though rather than watching your hands he’s fixated on the size of his shirt over you and how fucking good you look right now. 
“Or…” He sweeps his eyes over your legs before looking back up at you again. “Did’ya turn the stove off?”
You tilt your head at him, “I did…?”
He grins at you, lifting you up by your thighs til you’re a head above him. “Good.” He maneuvers you over to the counter, setting you on top. He brings your wrist up to his mouth to press a delicate kiss before dropping to his knees.
Tumblr media
You’ve been laying in bed for at least three hours, bordering on sleep but never quite falling in. You and Jason had a little spat, though nothing insurmountable, it was still the biggest fight you’ve had to date. You’d tried going out (at night) to see your friend that was having a hard time, and yeah, you should’ve told Jason you were going. It was only five blocks, give or take, but in Gotham at eleven o’clock at night, it’s a risk to say the least.
You should’ve told Jason, you know. But he wouldn’t have let you go or would’ve insisted on putting hold on patrolling to accompany you. You always feel bad when he does that—people could be getting hurt somewhere because you needed your boyfriend to walk you down the street. Unfortunately, it didn’t matter in the end because he caught you red handed before you’d even made it a full block away. Of all the nights for him to come home early, it had to be this one.
He dropped down from the rooftop behind you and scared the absolute hell out of you, and you didn’t even have time to be relieved that it was just him because he was on you in a flash. 
“What the hell are you doing out here?” His voice was hard through the modulator, a rare tone for him to use with you.
“I just—my friend—” he sounded tired and angry, sure signs that he’d really not had a good night so far which was probably all the more reason that you shouldn’t have been out by yourself in the middle of the night.
“What are you—no! Go home. Now.” You would’ve, you really would’ve, but your friend called you crying about her boyfriend cheating on her again and she needed the in person support. 
“Ja—” You’d cut yourself off, “It’s down the street, it’s fine—” He dropped his shoulders in a huff and faced you dead-on. You didn’t need him to take his helmet off to know exactly how he was looking at you.
He dropped down and hooked his arm around the back of your legs, lifting you off the ground with no discernible effort. “Wha—”
He started walking before you were even fully planted on his shoulder, arm wrapping around your legs to hold you in place. 
“Hood! I am so fucking serious, put me down!” You swatted at his back and struggled in his grip, though in the back of your mind you knew it was a pointless effort. Even if you were a match in size, whatever mood he’d been pushed in was enough to guarantee that you had no chance. 
He ignored you, not even pretending that you were giving him any difficulty with your squirming. He marched you back down the block to your apartment, not stopping until you’re outside your door. He set you down in between him and the entrance, digging into his pocket for his key.
He kicked the door shut behind him, finally letting you go. He wordlessly grabbed one of his spare guns and two cartridges of ammo from inside the closet by the door and turned back to you with a firm stance. “Stay here.”
You immediately tried to push past him again, at that point more angry about him dragging you back here than about having to duck out on your friend. He stopped you, holding you by the arms, which led you to respond by raising your voice at him, “Jason!” 
But he didn’t waste any time letting you know how it is, “I will lock you in this fucking apartment. Stay. Here.” Him cursing at you like that was very rare and not a particularly good sign, so through your anger you’d made the decision that it was better to relent, for now. Your posture dropped and you frowned at him resentfully, a visible cue that you were giving in without you having to say it. 
He stayed true to his word and locked the door on his way out, though knowing you could easily unlock it from the inside. You’d trudged into your bedroom, slamming the door behind you.   
Now you lay on Jason’s usual side of the bed, partially because you do miss him, partially because the bed feels a little less empty when you can’t see all the empty space. You know he was just trying to keep you safe after what was probably a rough start to the night, so you feel less than great that you’d yelled at him.
Your dwelling over the memory is interrupted by a quiet creak of the bedroom door. You blink up at him blearily, “Jay?” You sit up, furrowing your brow. You didn’t even hear him come home. “What’s wrong?” You figure he must be hurt to come in here—it’s not unknown for him to sleep on the couch if he feels like he did something wrong or upset you.   
Your eyes attempt to adjust to the darkness, scanning over him for any injuries. He’s out of his armor and in his regular clothes which means he must have showered already. And you know from dozens of nights patching him up that he always tends to his injuries before showering.
This leaves you confused, as you look up at him, waiting for an answer. “I can’t…I don’t want to sleep without you.” He whispers, eyes on the floor. 
You shuffle back into your usual spot near the wall and hold your hand out to him expectantly. You’re still a bit cross with him, but you miss him too much to care right now.
It takes him a second to move, but he eventually lingers away from the door and makes his way to the bed. He takes your hand as he climbs onto the bed, letting go only when you lay down after him, staring up at the ceiling next to him. 
You weren’t entirely expecting him to wrap his arms around you and tug you into his chest. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’d assumed he would lay on his side and you on yours and that would be enough for him to fall asleep with. Instead, he tightens his arms and buries his face into the crook of your neck. You lay there in silence for a couple minutes, both thinking.
“You’re mad.” He mumbles into your shoulder after a while. You know he feels badly about the dispute, you knew it while it was still happening. As hard as he tries, he’s not very good at hiding his emotions. Not with you, anyways.
You shrug slightly. “Barely. I’ll get over it. This is more important.”
He picks his head up to look at you, “I love you. You know that?”
You wiggle out of his grip a bit, making him frown. You use the new space to flip over to face him, before placing his arm back around your waist. You peek up at him, looking him in the eyes, “I do. You know I love you. Even when we fight.”
He looks at you like he’s a bit thrown off by your words. “I’m sorry. It was just…it was a rough night…I—I’m sorry.” He tells you dolefully.  
You shake your head, frowning. “Don’t be. I should’ve texted you.”
“It—yeah. Please. I just worry about you.” He looks so sad and it makes you feel somehow worse.
“I know,” you whisper, “I’m sorry.”  
“Don’t be.” He kisses your forehead, not moving away after.
You feel like you can finally relax and your tense body doesn’t take long to slacken in his hold. Soon after, he does the same, both of you closing your eyes. You feel your heart slow and your mind starts to find a space of peace.    
Before you crash out, you mumble out, “I’m going to be a little passive aggressive in the morning, though.”
“I’d hope so.”
Tumblr media
Jason didn’t get it at first.
Honestly, he didn’t really realize that you noticed things about him that even he didn’t see.
Your neighbor was having their place remodeled and you knew there would be construction going on near your apartment all day.
Jason didn’t really care, planning to bury his head under the pillow and trying to sleep through it. You however, seemed very adamant about getting out of the apartment that day. You’d left hours before the construction crew had even gotten there, telling him it was a nice day out.
It was an alright day, but he let you have your way.
You held his hand as you walked down the street, looking into shop windows and commenting on things you think he’d like.
You led him into a book store excitedly, telling him about how the author he’d been binging had just published something new. He didn’t even know that.
You were browsing the sections, flipping through books as you went. You peered across the shop at a kid holding an absolutely massive pile of books, who was clearly struggling to keep them in his arms.
His mother tried to help him but he shook his head and strided away independently, albeit very slowly. The weight of the books though, did get the best of him, and you could tell by the quivering in his arms that he was going to drop them.
“Loud noise.” You said quickly, seemingly out of the blue. Jason turned to you, confused, before seeing the stack the books splat flat onto the ground. It was indeed a loud noise.
He tilts his head at you, though you’re still busy watching the little boy as he throws his head back in frustration.
“What was that?”
You look at him, “He dropped his books.”
“Yeah, I saw. But why—”
His question gets cut off by the kid bursting into tears, wailing. You turn back to look at him, your gaze getting caught by the new book you’d been telling him about. “Ooh!”
You grab his hand and pull him over with you, smiling widely when you have the book in your hands. The sight of you makes him feel so warm so fast that he forgets about the odd interaction all together.
A couple hours later, you sit outside a cafe and eat lunch together, his back to the road, you sitting diagnal to him.
He’s telling you about the shit Damian got in trouble for at school last week, holding your hand with his right hand and eating with his left.
“He thinks he’s not going to get expelled for pulling shit like that every other week, it’s ridiculous.” He says, tossing his napkin down on the table.
Your smile is wavers as your eyes move past his shoulder looking down the block before widening, “Car—”
The sudden noise startles him enough to make him visibly jump, hand flying to where his holster would be. He looks over at the fender bender, shoulders relaxing.
He turns back to you to find your eyes looking far more worried than they should. You seem to be scanning his face, looking for something and he’s about to ask you what’s wrong when it sinks in.
He does get scared by unexpected loud sounds, doesn’t he? He never really thinks of it until it happens, but his mind is trained to expect gunshots or crowbars making impact.
It doesn’t happen often, but it noticeably takes a little piece out of him when it does.
“You…” he tries, but falters. He’s not even sure he’s processing this right.
He’s never seriously tried to fathom that you love him half as much as he loves you, though love doesn’t feel like a strong enough word. He lives and breathes for you, you’ve become a lifeline he’d been stranded without for most of his life. But now you're here and you’re everything, you’re in his head all the time, in every emotion he feels.
He thinks he’s here for you, that he was brought back from the dead because of you. You can’t possibly understand how much his heart is full of you, he doesn’t understand it himself.
He knows you love him, he’s gotten that through his head. But he can’t get a grasp on the idea that he’s equally matched in the who loves who the most battle.
Do you really care that much about him to go out of your way to keep track of things that might startle him? He knows there’s a million things about you that are in the back of his mind at any given time, but surely you don’t operate that same way with him?
Do you?
There’s this burning in his heart that aches and it only gets stronger when he sees you looking at him like that. So genuine. With care, with love.
He squeezes your hand, “I love you. More than anything.”
The look on your face sinks back into that sweet, adorable look that he’s so used to and it makes him want to scream.
You smile that bright smile and it sends his heart rocketing into oblivion. “I love you.” You squeeze his hand back, “More than everything.”
He feels like his heart might burst through his chest.
Tumblr media
737 notes · View notes
vagabond-umlaut · 2 days
Text
you kiss the back of my legs and i want to cry
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
only the sun has come this close, only the sun
Tumblr media
gojo satoru x wife!reader; tooth-rotting domestic fluff; gojo LOVERBOY™️ satoru; you aren't any better than him [but less poetic abt the predicament]; tw: pregnancy, 1 tiny mention of throwing up; satoru calls you 'cookie'; and he redefines the word besotted here; his thoughts are also a little yandere-ish but tht's cute, methinks; 2.3k wc; i just wish satoru was real and in my arms rn T-T
belongs to the series 'you make my heart flutter and fibrillate' but can be read as a stand-alone fic if you wanna
the fic title and summary don't rly hv a very strong connection to the fic plot— except the fact they fit both satoru's & reader's characters in this series to a tee ^_^
fic title and summary from 'gps' by shauna barbosa // header frm pinterest // divider by @/benkeibear // jjk isn't mine
Tumblr media
you are clingy.
always have been, in fact, now that gojo thinks about it. long before the two of you were married. long before you were engaged. quite a long time before the two of you were anything apart from friends at best, acquaintances at worst.
yet now, as he feels a pair of arms squeeze tighter around his middle, not really still very much squeezing the air out of him— your husband reckons you've grown loads clingier now—
and he loves you for this. loving you even more when he feels kisses being pressed into the space between his shoulder blades.
soft lips, a tad chapped. not without the shy grazing of your teeth.
just how he likes it.
very much how he adores you.
affection, settled deeper than should be feasible into the hollow of his chest, flutters a little when you nuzzle into his back; that pleased little hum of yours quick to follow it. smiling, gojo turns his head a touch to catch a glimpse of you. it takes a beat before you remove your face to lock eyes with him, before returning your face to his back.
he huffs a chuckle, sounding incredibly fond all the same. his feelings for you can never be suppressed anyway. time has proved this to him enough number of times.
he runs a finger down the length of your arm, relishing how it leaves a line of goosebumps in its wake—
"you wanna tell me something, cookie?" your husband finally asks.
your reply doesn't come immediately. and when it does, it is nothing more than a noncommittal noise. too spoiled. too stubborn. a bit too satisfied as well, the emotion further expressed when you nuzzle his back yet again.
gojo's smile grows bigger. his cheeks hurt a little.
he thinks he can live forever with this kind of pain, not even a sigh of complaint ever leaving him.
"aha—" he exclaims loudly, still soft enough to keep the quiet of this sweet bubble you've pulled you both into, "so it's just my irresistible charm that's making you so clingy tonight, hm?"
another beat passes.
and just when he thinks he might have to do with another one of your indistinct sounds for an answer, you speak. to be more precise, whine and grumble, everything so sweet in your adorable voice.
"it's not me being clingy, 'toru— it's the baby— the baby is making me so clingy. making me feel as if i can't live even for one second without squishing you like thisss!!!"
the first reaction your tightening grasp brings out is the wind getting knocked out of his lungs— the second reaction being all that oxygen, nitrogen and carbon dioxide being replaced by a feeling so fierce and so tender— the strongest thinks his knees would have buckled under its weight had he not been lying down but standing—
not that he really minds that, though.
for you, he's always on his knees. whether you ask it of him or not. the only light in this world he is willing to bow his eyes before.
it takes him not too much effort but gojo makes a point of struggling whilst he shifts in your hold. and grins when he finally comes face-to-face with you, drinking in the way your brows are puckered and lips a little parted in an incredulous expression.
his grin simmers down however, when his six eyes notice the spark in your tummy. so tiny. so blinding. so priceless— to him and you both— he knows this, surer than he is of the scars on his palms.
thumbing the hem of your t-shirt, he hums, dragging his eyes back to be drowned in yours, "how many weeks along are you, wifey?"
"satoru," you start, voice turning sharper and just as skeptical as your face was, still is— only to be shushed by a finger to your lips. the man addressed feels his heart skip a beat at your confused big scowl— it's got to be a crime to be as cute as you— really!!!
he pinches your cheek lightly.
"it isn't like i don't remember that, cookie. i just wanted you to say it— c'mon, tell me quickly!" he presses, noting then utilising the moment your face begins to lose its cynical hue over his words.
the scowl lingers there however, twisting your delectably pretty lips—
"nine weeks," you say, hooking a leg over his waist to pull him closer. can he be any closer to you, though? your answer is always a yes, he knows you well enough to know this.
"thirty-one weeks more before we meet our baby."
it's not exactly thirty-one weeks; it's thirty weeks and five days before either of you can meet the baby, but gojo decides not to point out the error. you always hate it when he points out your tiny errors and make a point of snarking about it every time he opens his mouth to speak a word next— the man is wary not to upset his wife, yes, thank you very much.
he offers a sage "hm" in response, one he observes you accept slowly. the scowl lifts itself into a curve so fond— gojo thinks once before he vaults his next query your way. not wanting to see that smile vanish in front of him—
the ask won't cause anything so. but he can never be too sure. he has read too many books and articles to not grasp how fragile pregnancy hormones can make one be.
he tucks a strand of hair behind the shell of your ear.
fingers tarrying there when he sees you lean into his touch— not akin a moth to a bright flame, no. he can never hurt you. not even for once in his wildest dreams—
but how the north pole of a magnet hurries towards the south pole of another magnet. so different in their nature, a perfect pair of opposite crafted by the nature— maybe that's why nothing can ever stop them from rushing to each other once they're proximated, the lines of their mutual attraction existing even when thousands of miles apart.
just like you and him.
contrasting, complementing, completing each other every instant, in every facet of life.
he lets his fingers dance through the tangles in your hair, unravelling the knots in there. that pleased little hum of yours reaches him once again.
stowing the sound away, later to be placed on a pedestal in an ornate glass case as the most valuable praise ever given to him for his effort, he runs a gentle hand, nails scratching your scalp carefully.
"and at nine weeks old, just how big might our baby be?"
"i think there is a chart comparing our baby's size to fruits..." syllables unhurried and a pinch mumbled, you press your heel to draw him in a little more. "i did not really read that too attentively— oh. but. yeah!" a grin forms on your features, sleepy still twinkling in excitement.
"shoko sent me a link to this website earlier today— any ideas, 'toru, what it might be about?"
gojo does have an idea. he has a very, very good idea.
but he chooses not to say that aloud. you look so extremely adorable when you are being this excited. he would hate nothing more than to see your amped up self getting interrupted by him.
he shakes his head. your grin brightens. eyes crinkling with a glint, he can tell even without looking, is knowing.
the tips of your fingers caress his bare back, softer than a breath. "it's about when our baby forms which organs— our baby's eyes are being formed now!!! isn't that too cute, 'toru?"
"it is, cookie," he hums without any hesitation, six eyes activating one more time to zero in on that teeny-tiny spark. then deactivating when he looks back up to your sleepy eyes. a terribly tickled, equally wicked glimmer creeps into his grin. "so our baby is just like a tiny ball of cells with two big blue eyes, huh? they must look so scary, heh— ouch!"
your pinch did not really pain him, but gojo does his best to mimic an awfully wounded puppy, sogging wet from the rain and waiting at the doorstep with his moving blue eyes— it takes less than three seconds before you let go of your glare with a sigh.
you massaging the sore spot on his arm, your husband watches you give yet another sigh.
"first of all, there's no guarantee our baby will have your eye color and not mine, 'toru," you explain, pinning him under your drowsy stare, "it is very difficult to predict that for sure— and secondly: i'll punch you if you ever call our baby scary— sure, they don't really look like a human in this moment, but they'll slowly get there in forty weeks— as per the website, their face, hands and feet are forming in the ninth—"
"okay, alright!! i get your point, my insanely smart, insanely beautiful, insanely sexy wife," gojo cuts in, smiling while warning bells chime in his head at the faintest gloss in your eyes—
but maybe they weren't noisy enough. that is why he doesn't bite his tongue, rather continuing, "but you weren't actually blaming our poor human-ey baby for your clinginess, were you? it's not like they have a telepathic communication set up with you— hell, maybe they haven't even started forming their brain!"
"the baby's brain starts forming by the fifth week, satoru," your quiet reply reaches him exactly when he gets his last giggle out. the moist sheen in your eyes grows more prominent.
and his insides begin to twist—
one-third helpless. two-thirds contrite.
you don't stop talking, tone lower than he has heard you use in nearly forever, "and you better not comment on my bond with our baby— i'll punch you twice if you—"
"i wasn't doing that and i promise to never make you feel that way, my cutie-pie cookie," gojo interrupts, voice far gentler than earlier, just as low as yours, "but feel free to throw me out the house if i ever do that, even accidentally. okay?"
you're not okay.
you never are, when it comes to you being actually harsh to him, even when he's the one asking you to be— shakespeare once called love to be blind— your husband doesn't think you're blind, however. it is your well-contemplated decision to see his mistakes and see each of them as excusable, perfectly pardonable, no matter how silly or serious the world might regard them to be—
you make a noise. somewhat annoyed. unhappy too, yeah. before you push your face into the crook of his neck, nose nuzzling into the flesh there.
you would have bitten him by now. but he reckons you might be a bit too tired for all that. you couldn't even finish your dinner before facing the urge to throw up tonight, yet again.
feeling sorry, almost, gojo resumes his ministrations to your hair, half because you need to fall asleep now; the hands on the clock are close to striking midnight. the other half because he just loves playing with your hair— only to still when you suddenly pull your head back.
brows furrowed as you peer at him, eyes big and earnest.
"you don't really mind when i hug you like this, do you, 'toru?"
"no, cookie!! of course not!!" the man wastes not even a breath before he rushes to explain— because seriously, what!??
sure, he wasn't the first one to fall between you two. but ever since he did fall, he has never not expressed how every second away from you, every fraction of an instant away from you, causes him pain.
and yeah, he might have been a tad too dramatic whilst doing so, but you've always been so good at reading him— then why on earth can't you read him now? why don't you read, he loves it when you seek him out, he loves you more than anyone and anything else??
"good," your satisfied little chirp gives him a light shove away from his frantic thoughts. something tells him he should be put on alert by the way your lips curve into a smug smile next.
but gojo finds himself uncaring. just immensely relieved as he trails his fingers from the back of your head to your chin. thumb reaching out to brush the corner of your infectious smile. you continue.
"but even if you did mind, sorry not sorry— you were the one who put the ring on my finger, so you have to deal with everything i'm, mister!! no refunds nor complaints can be filed here, gojo-san~"
and neither refunds nor complaints he wishes to file, satoru muses to himself as he cups your cheek in one hand. bending down to steal the taste of your beam, your tease, your love for him on his tongue—
not when he has received the world in exchange for letting go of that poor splintered mess of a heart, he used to call his, but is now yours.
and will always stay yours—
"hey 'toru— what will you do if i chomp on your fingers right now, like really hard? will you yell? or will you be the freak that you're and enjoy it, huh?"
gojo pauses.
and wonders.
is there any binding vow one can make to secure oneself to another in every lifetime, for all eternity?
he hopes there is.
your husband really, seriously hopes there is—
'cause no way in heaven, earth or hell, does gojo satoru want to let go of you— and he will not let go of you.
Tumblr media
this idea was ROTTING in my brain for ages, but wht gave me the spark– the boost to write this was the wonderful sukuna fic written by ari @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat ❤️❤️❤️ i seriously love u & ur writings sm, babes 🥹🥹 everyone pls go check their masterlist out. it's studded w diamonds and pearls 😌😌🥰
and this is also for my sweet & sour bestie mimi @avatarofstars 🤭🤭— u 🤝 me in being clingy af towards our fictional hubbies 😂😂🥰
hope this was an enjoyable read! pls don't plagiarise, translate or repost this ❤️❤️
masterlist
Tumblr media
847 notes · View notes
mixtape-timeout · 2 days
Text
Hi Stays, this is a post to warn everyone to be wary of a SKZ author here on Stayblr with the username @/gimmeurtmi
I followed them not too long ago, but they suddenly blocked me. I was confused why because I have my age in my account and followed all of their rules. However, I have some reasons to suspect that this user is a Zionist. As you can see I am very Pro-Palestine, it’s in my blog title and bio, and I think this is why they blocked me.
They made a post showing anger about Stays educating Felix on his live about Coca-Cola (For people who don’t know, Coca-Cola is on the BDS boycott list, they support Israel and built an R&D center in occupied Palestinian territory of Atarot) In their post they said it’s “pathetic” for Stays to inform Felix about this and that he wasn’t doing anything wrong. Felix made the effort to read about the issue on his live and chose to apologize to Stay for it, but this user thinks that boycotting a brand tied to a genocidal state is the same as bullying.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
((Screenshots are not mine))
They also showed strong support for the new SKZ collab with Charlie Puth. Many Stays are boycotting this collab because Charlie Puth is a raging Zionist, and the track also has an Israeli producer, Johnny Goldstein who is also a proud Zionist. gimmeurtmi even made a whole tag for this collab on their blog to show how much they’re excited for it, even though two Zionists worked on it and will be receiving royalties for it. You can also see the tags in the third post showing them speaking of Tommy Hilfiger, yet another Zionist, in a friendly manner.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Furthermore, I talked to other Stays in the community about this because I don’t want to jump to conclusions and gimmeurtmi blocked other users who are showing support for Palestine, not just me. From reading their posts on their other blog (@/stuckonspidey) you can also see how far their beliefs about this go. That’s not to say them being Jewish means they must be a Zionist, because that’s a completely false idea. There are plenty of Jewish people who are not Zionist and support Palestinian liberation because we recognize that what Palestinians are suffering through is a history repeat of what our people went through. But this added with all the other questionable evidence makes me suspicious that this user is a Zionist, or at least an Israeli sympathizer who treats support for Palestine as an inconvenience.
From these posts on their main blog, you can see them refuse to condemn Israel or even say anything about their crimes when they got asked about it. Instead, they just talk about how this genocide has personally affected them. There are no posts (that I could find) of them showing any sympathy or support for Palestine, all their posts about the subject are just self-victimizing posts about how they feel. Yes, it’s a scary time to be a Jewish person as well, I know this as a person of Jewish ancestry, too. But fighting anti-semitism AND fighting for Palestine can and SHOULD co-exist. It’s a huge red flag that the only thing they have to say about the genocide is how Jewish people are the victims in this. They also made another post where they claim that “Zionist” is just a word people use to be anti-semitic. This is a tale as old as time that Zionists have used to excuse, deny, and even justify Israel’s war crimes. I was once told that a genocide of Palestinians doesn’t exist and is just an “anti-semitic blood libel”. This is the exact same rhetoric that Zionists in my community and Zionist news outlets use (which, I add, almost ALL news outlets are strongly biased to Israel because of America’s ties to it. Israel is heavily backed in support from some of the richest and most powerful countries in the world, it is not the victim and never was).
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I am not making this for drama. I made this post just to tell fellow Stays to be cautious of which writers you’re reading from and supporting. If you are against the genocide that has been happening to Palestinians for 75 years now, I suggest not supporting this person’s work, because at best they don’t care about what’s happening in Palestine, and at worst, they actually endorse it. There should be no place in our Stay community for this hateful ideology.
484 notes · View notes
verinarin · 3 days
Text
𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞.
𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞.
Tumblr media
cw // contains 2.2 penacony quest spoilers
Angst | years after he vanished, you found solace in the path of trailblaze. the day you departed from the astral express, however was the day another version of him greets you.
Traversing through the stars as a nameless was never something you see for yourself, but alas after years of escaping the pain of loosing you have found peace.
You boarded the express with a bleeding wound, yet departed with a new sense of self. Blazing the path of traiblaze has given you precious memories.
Memories that have become the solace you yearn for and now you reside on a planet far away from your hometown, Penacony.
Your heart still burns for the spirit of trailblazing, spreading the tales you’ve theard upon these past years was your way of keeping the spirit of trailblazing alive.
There’s hundreds of letters you have sent to the nameless who still traverse the sky full of stars, while you blaze paths for the younger generations to yearn to reach the glimmering stars above.
“Miss, is it true that the astral express has two conductors?,” a young boy that perched up to your lap asked.
“Well now we only have one conductor which is pom-pom and a navigator ! The astral express’ current navigator is Miss Himeko,” you smiled softly as you stroked the boy’s hair.
This is a glimpse of your life now, as the local’s beloved storyteller. You could be easily found reading a book or writing at a cafe near your house.
You heard a motherly voice searching for her son, “Now young man it seems that you mother is searching for you, better to go back to her alright,” you pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Alright ! Bye bye Miss Nameless,” he waved as he ran back towards his mother who offered you a thank you smile from afar.
Now you reside back at your table, a letter has found its way to you. Perhaps it was friends from the astral express, but there’s the ‘pom-pom’s signature’ stamp to be found after all.
With a smile you pressed the rim of your coffee filled cup to your lips, it’s been a while since you talked to them. As you place down your cup, a tinge of amberwood lingers in the air.
It was a scent that you found alluring years ago, it made you feel a little bit nostalgic. You close your eyes and let the tale of the past play inside your mind like a movie.
“Excuse me, Miss. Is this seat taken ?,” a voice greeted you, his voice has successfully awaken you from your daydream.
“The seat in front of me ?,” he asked as you flutter your eyes open, to reveal a man dressed in a white shirt.
The collar was unbuttoned slightly revealing a chest that harbours scars across the body, it took you seconds to tilt your head up.
You can’t really make out the man’s face, the sun that shines warmly behind him hinders you from doing so, “Yeah, the seat on your table” he chuckled, as he folded his arms.
His arms were proudly displayed against his chest, his sleeves were rolled up to display his strong arms, clean from any scars. In contrast with his chest.
“Well I’m not meeting anyone, so feel free,” you extend your hand towards the seat in front of you, letting him know that it’s alright for him to sit in front of you.
And so he did, now you could clearly study his face. He has kind eyes, rich brown in colour. His features were strong and rugged yet somehow gentle in nature. His face was decorated with salt and pepper stubble, signifying his old age.
His hair was parted in the middle, it was as long as his neck. You could tell that he cared a lot for his hair, it was well groomed, “Are you not going to ask who I am ?” he smiled as he saw you gazing through himself.
“Ah sorry for staring, you just feel familiar,” you stated honestly before brushing your hair back.
“How so ?” his eyes lingers at you, coaxing you to question more and more about him.
“Can’t tell really,” you’re not going to blabber upon the past that haunts you for so long now, would you ?
Not when you’ve grown this far.
“Heh, such a shame then,” the cadence of his voice, irks your mind. Scratches your heart in some way….
“A shame indeed,” you nodded, your fingers circling the rim of your cup as you await his reply.
“I heard you were once a nameless,” that’s a well known fact by now, at least in the area you live in.
“It was years ago but I'm glad my name still holds some fame, so do you need something from the astral express?” he will not be the first person who makes use of your past to contact the express.
“Nah, I’m just here for your audience,” he spoke, the tone was light yet somehow deep in context, shrouded in mystery.
“Who are you?” you asked the question he yearned the most, his face reflects it perfectly.
“Care to take an educated guess, Miss ?” he cocked his eyebrows as you ruminated through the possibilities.
“You still do the thing huh ?” he chuckled, his face now rested against his palm as he watches you picking apart the past and the future.
“What thing ?” you asked, he spoke those words like he knew you for years, which was odd. He’s a stranger after all.
“The thing where you’ll pout your lips slightly when you’re drowned by your thoughts,” he knew you, knew you well enough and long enough to notice these things.
“Let’s cut to the chase, don’t play games with me old man. Who are you ?” your eyes bore deep into his own, trying to pry the truth out of him.
“Funny, you used to call me that too,” he chuckles, his eyes bore no malice, just a sense of long and yearning.
You only called ‘old man' to a handful of people, but one strikes the most in this case, but it can’t be him.
You refuse it to be him.
You merely stared at him, not wanting to entertain his statement, “Fine, I’ll give out a little tip. I tend to amend things, which is why I am here now, sitting idly in front of you,”
“Amend things ? How could you amend things that are not broken ?” you questioned, the man before you was too relaxed and aloof to be talking in riddles.
“Well you’re not broken per say, but well I am,” the man merely chuckled as he looked down towards the concrete floor.
“So you want me to fix you ?” you ask, your endless pond of patience grew dry by the second.
“Close, but no,” you could see the evident smirk as he kept his gaze down.
“You’re speaking in riddles here sir, some might mistake you as a follower of the enigmata if you keep this up,” this time his eyes trained itself back to yours.
“Well aren’t you still sharp,” he mused, clearly happy that he didn’t need to elaborate on more.
“You’re not him, you can’t be him anymore,” this is a fact, even if this being was him, it is not him.
“Can’t be who ? I’ve been living countless lives before. Be specific would ya ?” the man now let his back rest against the chair, ain’t he comfortable now ?
“You know very well the life I’m talking about,” you sighed, he could be him or even a part of masked fools really.
The masked fools that’s notorious for transforming themselves into one’s beloved.
“Well say that name for old time’s sake, humour this ol’ hound,” never mind, it is him. A masked fool won’t replicate this current body that he made, he’s a stranger to you.
A foreign being.
“You’re not Gallagher, never will be him again as a matter of fact,” that type of wording was not your style to use, you felt bad for speaking those truths.
“Ouch that stings, I was him y’know,” he lips pouted, while his arms are folded against his chest. Yet his gaze still placed snugly into you.
“Past tense,” you quipped, well you felt bad about the cold demeanour, but still how would someone act in this situation ?
“Touché,” he laughed, now from his mannerisms. It reminds you of Gallagher, but he’s not him.
This man is well put, smells expensive, and it seems like he does not drink that much. When you think about it, the man before you resembles the qualities that you find attractive in a man.
As wouldn’t you know it, you told this list to Gallagher over a drink years ago.
“Let me ask you this once more, who are you ?” your stern voice was something he never listened to, but he welcomed it warmly.
“Whoever you want me to be,” he smiles, his voice sounds like he was teasing, but you know deep down that it is true.
“Why are you here ?” the question that has been clouding your mind since the reveal.
“To see through another fiction with you as my main muse,” his voice draws deeper than before.
The gravity of his statement was heavy, it made your heart stop for a mere second just to make sense of it all.
His eyes softened as he saw your shock ridden expression, your hands trembled, unsure with what to answer. He finds his way to hold them gently.
It felt nostalgic, even though the hand that held yours was not the same as before, it felt like home.
“To fabricate a new page in history, to make amends for the past, to see through another life. I’m here to live another life with you, to grow old by your side,” he continues, somehow the display of loyalty soothed your trembling hands.
“And even after death, I’ll wait for you to be reborn back into my arms, forever more,” his warmth left your hand as he stood up from his chair.
He walked towards your side, your hands now placed perfectly against your lap as he kneels before you.
“That is my reason,” he leaned down, bringing your fingertips towards his lips.
“Own my heart once more, dearest,” he begged.
The man begged for a chance once more.
284 notes · View notes
zarameraki · 2 days
Text
♡₊˚🔪・₊✧ 𝘁𝗼𝗷𝗶 𝗶𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗸𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝘁. 𝟮₊˚🔪・₊✧
: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 mdni 𖥔 obsessed at the first glance 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 FIVE ORGASMS HELP 𖥔 he's downright depraved for you 𖥔 toji is a certified p*ssy eater 𖥔 MDNI ffs
: ̗̀➛ word count: 3.7k
: ̗̀➛ notes: sorry ive been mia mamas, im currently depressed. here's part two yall have been waiting for. love u READ PART ONE HERE
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Throughout dinner, your leg trembled incessantly, your gaze flitting to the clock every five minutes. The hunger to refute Toji's belief in the dominance of your bloodline churned in your stomach, causing it to growl. You needed to assert the fact that you were capable of making decisions.
Sure, the majority of your significant choices had been dictated by your parents. Whether it was forsaking art school to follow in your father's Ivy League footsteps or opting for low-calorie breakfasts to squeeze into yet another gala dress you didn't desire—
Alright, fine. Perhaps you weren't as adept at making your own decisions as you'd hoped. This realization dawned on you during your brief exchange with Toji, a stranger not listed on your parents' VIP list. 
It was a rebellious decision and it felt . . . great. 
“Hey, Dad?” 
Your father shifted his gaze towards you, perched at the head of the table while you and your mom sat across from him. “Yes, dear?”
“I... I'm not feeling great.” You’re seriously going to do this, huh?
“What's going on?” Your mother’s fork paused mid-air. 
You nervously rubbed your stomach, silently hoping they'd catch on to what you were trying to convey about your period. Your fingers stayed crossed under the table, hoping they'd buy your excuse. 
“Very well.” Your father cleared his throat, dabbing his mouth with a napkin. “You can go rest for the night.” 
“Thank you,” you mumbled, hastily grabbing your purse and bolting out of the restaurant, the pounding of your heart echoing in your ears as you made a beeline for the elevator.
Standing outside Toji's suite on the twelfth floor was dreadful.  
Your fingers fumbled in your purse until they found the napkin, clutching it tightly as if it were a lifeline. 
Mentally, you battled against the urge to knock on the door. It felt absurd, this impulse to approach a stranger's room solely because of his allure—the way he towered over you, his muscles seemingly carved from stone, and those piercing eyes that seemed to peel away your facade layer by layer until you felt exposed to your very core. 
With each heartbeat, your stomach churned at the prospect of another mundane conversation where you'd merely be reduced to a run-of-the-mill woman. That's all you were to him, unlike the pretentious jerks who had been eyeing you judgmentally from across the dinner table.
Tapping on the door, you smoothed down your hair and subtly adjusted your bra, just in case things took a turn for the better. The door creaked open, revealing Toji, looking as intimidating and smug as ever.
You lifted a hand in greeting. “Hey—” Suddenly, your feet left the ground, and you found yourself tossed over Toji's shoulder like a rag doll. “What the fuck?” 
“Cursing suits you, sweetheart.” He carried you back to his room and plopped you onto his bed, settling over you. As you sank into the mattress, you covered your chest and turned your face away while he scrutinized you. “Did you eat?” 
“A bit.” 
“That eager to see me, doll?” 
“No,” you replied, unsure, but Toji easily detected your falsehood. “Did you eat?” 
“No.” 
“Just order room service.”
“I did.” He brushed a stray strand of hair from your forehead. “She’s here.” His lips ghosted over the curve of your ear. “And I’m fucking starving, sweetheart.” 
You blinked rapidly, your hands gripping his shoulders, the urge to push him away and retreat to your family dinner strong. 
“Why are you here?” Toji's breath brushed against your cheek, not quite a kiss but stirring something within you nonetheless, causing your legs to clench involuntarily.
“To talk,” you mumbled. “I also wanted to get to know you.”
“Is that so?” His chuckle was laced with mockery, causing you to shrink inward, hugging your elbows defensively. “Fine. You can ask me a total of five questions, and I'll answer with complete honesty.”
“Really?” Your eyes sparkled as they met his bemused gaze.
“On one condition.”
Your stomach twisted with apprehension. “What is it?”
“One orgasm for every question.”
Your lips pursed, your muscles tensed, and you were overwhelmed by his condition. Could a woman actually achieve five consecutive orgasms? Especially one who had never experienced sex and struggled with self-pleasure? Was Toji capable of such feats? Was he worth getting to know?
He nonchalantly played with your hair, waiting for your answer. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking behind that signature smirk that never slipped from his lips. 
His lips. 
You wanted to kiss that scar. You wanted to know how he’d gotten it. You really wanted to get to know him. You just didn’t know why. It wasn't as though you could bring him home to meet your family; he didn't fit the mold they expected. He didn't match the conventional standards of appearance, even though he perfectly matched yours. Yet, his personality had an undeniable charm that captivated you.. And his personality was charming to you. If you couldn’t have his soul, at least you could have his body.  And you had a feeling he wanted the same.
“Okay,” you finally said. 
“Yeah?” 
“Mm-hmm.” Before he could move, you pushed your palms against his chest. “But I’m a virgin. So, don’t . . . you know.” 
“Sweetheart, I’m not fucking you yet.” Yet. That word made your stomach roll. “I told you I was starving, and my dinner is between these pretty legs.” His rough hand smoothed up your thigh. “Now, be a good fucking girl and pull your dress up for me.” 
As he rose, your gaze lifted with his, perched back on his knees. Nerves fluttered within you, but you pushed them down. With a steady hand, you grasped the edge of my dress, feeling its fabric between your fingers, and began to lift it, slowly revealing what lay beneath. “Wait. Is it going to hurt? Orgasming five times?” 
“You might pass out.” 
“But I’ve got an early lecture tomorrow.” 
“Then I suggest you better hurry if you want your answers, doll. I want to take my sweet time savoring you.” Toji winked, and your legs quivered. 
With a nervous gulp, you lifted my dress, exposing your thighs and panties to him. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, and you focused on the ceiling, pretending it was the most fascinating thing in the world. Ignoring the itch on your cheek, you dared not move. 
Toji’s cuffed your ankles, urging your legs upward, causing them to bend. His large hands rested on your knees, spreading them apart. Glancing down, you met his intense gaze as he lowered his head. “You’re already so wet, sweetheart.” 
You clenched your jaw. “First question.” 
“Shoot.” His lips grazed the soft skin of your inner thighs. You sucked in a sharp breath from the fluttering sensation, eyes closing as the blissful kisses continued ricocheting from one leg to the other. 
“Where do you work?” 
Toji chuckled against your skin, the heat of his mouth brushing over your clothed sex.
You looked up and locked eyes with Toji, his gaze intense under his hooded lids. He playfully stuck out his tongue, tracing it along your most sensitive area, causing you to sink back onto the pillows, overcome with sensation. “Oh, God.” 
He teased you further, swirling the tip of his tongue around your clit, his laughter mingling with your pleasure as you writhed on the bed.
With a mischievous grin, he hooked his fingers into your panties, sliding them down your thighs. A soft whistle escaped him, his warm breath teasing your skin. “Here we go, baby,” he murmured, his fingers coated in your arousal, presenting it to you. “This is what I’m talking about.” He cleaned his fingers with a lick and urged your legs apart, ready to continue.
Toji's tongue expertly gathered your pre-cum as he licked and flicked your clit, trailing kisses from your entrance to the peak. His mouth widened, enveloping your pussy as he sucked eagerly. The pressure in your stomach intensified, akin to standing on the precipice of a cliff, as he held you firmly by the back of your shirt.
“Toji—”
“Hmm?” He moaned, intensifying his suction and digging his nails into your thighs. With a loud pop, he released, then swiftly resumed lapping at your clit. The stimulation sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, wailing moans drowning out your breaths.
Sensing your impending climax, you felt the tension building in your stomach, his palm pressing down to restrain you. “Toji— Toji— I'm so close. God, I'm so close!”
“Are you?” Toji asked as he pushed his tongue into your entrance. The moment a scream escaped you, your hands flew to your mouth. With his hands, he lifted your hips and thrust his warm, delicious tongue in and out of you, resembling a panting dog.  He felt your tight, soft walls clench him in, the tip of his palette probing every sweet spot inside of you. 
You climaxed with a cry, clutching the back of his hair as he eagerly consumed every drop of your orgasm. The cherry on top was a gentle peck to your clit. 
“Fucking hell,” he said, sitting back up and wiping a thumb across his wet lips. “That’s my pussy now, sweetheart.”
You know what? You weren't even going to argue against that statement. Your body still trembled, your legs spasming and toes curling even without his touch. Just seeing his imposing figure, his tongue swiping across his lips where your essence lingered, ignited a primal urge within you—no, a desperate need for him once more.
“Your answer,” you whispered, straightening out your legs for a break. 
“I’m an entrepreneur.” 
Your heart skipped at his answer. “Really? Do you have your own company?” 
“Sort of. It’s a private business. My clients consist of politicians and men and women in powerful positions like your mother. I aid them with the process of maintaining their positions without any external hindrances.” 
“That’s . . . ” And here you assumed he was modest. “. . . great.” Clearing your throat, you poised your next question. “Where do you live?” 
“Right now, I’m thinking of moving here.” He gave your sore cunt a playful slap.
“Toji!” 
That playful laugh made you blush, stifling a giggle. He was just too charming, and you were quickly becoming smitten.
“Take off your dress,” he instructed.
You complied, this time with confidence, slipping it over your head and tossing it aside as if it were worth twenty dollars instead of two hundred.
Toji admired the sight of you laid out before him, silently congratulating himself for reaching this point since he first laid eyes on you this morning. Part of him was frustrated at how easily it all unfolded, at your naivety in accepting a stranger's invitation. But he resolved to work on fortifying your defenses in the future. He had so much he wanted to teach you, to unleash the beautiful creature hidden within you. Oh, he was going to enjoy every moment with you.
Leaning over your body, Toji yanked down your bra, freeing your breasts from the confines. “Fuck me. Look at these gorgeous tits.” He gathered them in his palms and buried his face in between. “Oh, fuck. You smell so good, sweetheart.” He kissed each nipple, his coarse tongue making you rub your feet together.  He sucked them into his mouth, moaning against your flesh, while holding your eyes. “Feels good, baby?” 
“Yes,” you breathed, clutching his hair as he continued to lavish attention on your hardened nipples, tugging them between his teeth and watching your breasts sway with each movement. “Toji?” 
“Yeah?” 
“Can you touch me there again?” 
“Your pussy?” 
You sighed quietly, his bluntness not surprising you. “Yes.”
“Thought you'd never ask.” His fingers trailed down to your hip, tracing patterns while he nibbled on your nipples. Your attention was split, but mostly fixed on the gentle caress over your intimate area. His fingertips quickly found your clit and began to rub it firmly.
You sank into the softness of the sheets, unable to contain your moans. His touch was everywhere, igniting every sensitive spot on your body with his lips and hands. Your fingers tangled in his hair as he slid two fingers inside you, causing your chest to arch, pressing your breast closer to him.
Breaking away from your nipple, he started leaving a necklace of marks on your neck, each pinch of his teeth jolting you as your body jerked with his fingers driving in and out of you. His thumb abused your clit with quick circles, squelching sounds echoing in the room. 
It took another minute before you were coming down again, slathering his fingers with your mess. 
Toji spoke, but your pounding heartbeat drowned out his words.
“What?” you asked, squinting as if you'd had a bit too much to drink.
“Sundale Apartments. Unit 20. That's where I live.”
You struggled to focus, trying to absorb the information through your haze. “Cool,” you managed.
“Had enough?” he asked.
“No,” you replied, gripping his biceps. You realized his fingers were still caressing you intimately. “God, okay. Next question. Uh, do you have a fam—?”
“No.”
Suddenly alert, you snapped out of your daze. He withdrew his hand and placed it on your waist, as if steadying himself from your question. There was no hint of amusement in his expression. “Moving on. Have you ever been in a relationship before?”
“Why? You planning on playing house with me, sweetheart?” 
You blushed and shook your head, even though in your mind, you envisioned cozy evenings, shared mugs, and Taco Tuesdays. You were a hopeless romantic at heart.
Toji fell to his side, laying straight. “Sit on my face.” 
“Huh?” you replied, taken aback.
“I want seconds of my pussy.” 
When you were too terrified to move, Toji pulled onto his chest. You straddled it, your previous orgasm absorbing into his t-shirt. 
He gripped your ass and tugged you forward until you were inches from his chin. “Grab the headboard.” 
You did and quickly sent a prayer that you’d survive. He told you to sit comfortably again, making you drag your folds from his chin to his mouth. 
Toji had a firm hold on your ass in case you suffocated him. He took a deep whiff of your cunt, already tonguing the juices leaking like dew-drops from leaves. “What I wouldn’t do to wake up to this every morning.” 
You stifled a giggle. “Does that mean you want to play home with me, Toji?” 
“Want me to build it for us? I'm pretty good with my hands.” He left a sweet, small kiss to your sore clit, making you sigh. 
Us. 
For the next ten minutes, he pleasured you consistently, thrusting his tongue inside you, driving you to grind against his mouth. He slurped, lapped, sucked at your pussy like he’d just discovered an oasis in a never ending dessert. He’d slap at your ass if you tried to sit up to give him room to breathe, warning you to stay fucking put. 
Your third climax left you limp like a ragdoll, your forehead colliding with the headboard as he cleaned you up. “I can’t do this anymore, Toji.”  
Toji chuckled and gently tapped your back, signaling for you to move so he could sit up. “I’ve only ever fucked around. Never been the committed type.” His fingers trailed lightly across your cheek, drawing your gaze to him. “Think you can change me?” 
“Godspeed to me.” 
His laughter was infectious, and soon you found yourself joining in, your body relaxing against his. He caught you and pulled you onto his lap. “One last question. Choose wisely.”
You lifted your head from his shoulder and tenderly cupped his cheek. “Could you kiss me?”
The wickedness in his eyes softened to match the gentleness in yours. He tentatively licked his lips, lowering his head as though unsure of how to proceed. Mimicking his movement, you leaned in, gently pressing your lips against his.
Toji drew in a sharp breath, his eyes widening as he observed your closed eyes intently. He had never kissed anyone before, especially not on the lips. It was a rule he had adhered to despite numerous sexual encounters. If women tried to initiate kissing, he would rebuff them and leave without further engagement. He wasn’t the romantic type at all, and kissing was a universally romantic gesture. He preferred a good, no-strings-attached fucking. 
So how was it that you had already entangled him by simply existing? 
You broke away first and pecked his scar. He looked so vulnerable, and you wondered how many other sides of him existed aside from the cocky display. 
Toji lowered his eyes to your neck with several lovebites, some more on your tits, down to the stickiness between your legs. He had also disheveled your lipstick, your hair, and you.
“Can I ask another question?” you whispered. 
He doubted you had the stamina for another orgasm. If you did, he had thoroughly stretched you out to fuck you raw and long. 
Toji nodded. 
You smirked. “Do you have vodka and Diet Coke in your mini fridge?” 
He kissed your jaw. “And a bathtub that’s conveniently filled with warm water.” 
You didn't need much persuasion to join Toji in the tub. With him behind you, his legs on either side, you quietly sipped a drink that smelled of cleaning chemicals, feeling somewhat intoxicated by the circles he traced on your belly. His cigarette smoke mingled with the steam. As he took slow drags, you felt his breath against your skin.
“Speak,” he said gruffly. 
“Hmm?”
“Something’s on your mind.” 
You shook your head, unwilling to divulge the daily criticisms you faced as the hotel heiress. Trusting anyone with your personal struggles was a risk, and Toji wasn't someone you trusted, at least not with your thoughts.
His hand grabbed your jaw and started moving it up and down. “‘Oh, Toji. I’m just thinking about your big, fat cock pressing against my back—’”
“Stop,” you said while laughing, pushing his hand away. You were not not thinking about his big, fat friend poking your marrow. “Can’t a girl sit in silence with her thoughts?” 
“It’s pissing me the fuck off.” 
“Why?” 
Toji let out a sigh as he seized your drink from your grasp. Downing it swiftly, he placed the empty glass on the floor, tossing his used dart inside, like he had at the bar. “Got any more questions or something?” 
You looked up and met his piercing green eyes. He gently placed his hand on your neck and squeezed lightly. “I had a rough morning.” His hand lowered down to your chest and settled on your stomach again. “My father and I had another disagreement, and I can't stop replaying our conversation in my head. Today, I just feel more worthless than usual.” 
So much for not trusting Toji. 
“You’re not worthless, doll,” he assured you with a certainty that felt like it came from years of knowing you. “It’s the fuckers around you that make you feel that way. You won’t know your worth until you free yourself from those bastards.” 
“Don’t disrespect my father, Toji. You don’t know—”
“Any father who makes his daughter feel worthless is a bastard to me. Understand?” He removed his hand and started shifting back, causing you to unglue yourself from his chest.
In all his naked glory, he stepped out of the tub, and grabbed a towel to wrap around his hips. 
“Where are you going?” you asked, ignoring the flashes of his erection just moments ago. 
Nonchalantly, he replied, “To kill your father.” 
You almost threw up an organ exclaiming, “What?” 
He started chuckling at his sadistic, repulsive joke. Examining the scars on his back, the tattoo-covered sleeves on both arms, and the hollow, mocking gleam in his eyes as he looked down at you, his shadow looming over you, made you question your safety. “Do I scare you, doll?” 
“No,” you whispered, your eyelashes fluttering as if they couldn't bear to keep staring at him.
“I don’t like liars.” He placed one foot on the edge of the tub and leaned down, taking your chin and lifting it up. “Do I scare you?” 
“Right now, yes.” 
“Why are your nipples so hard?” 
You glanced down and covered your chest. “It’s cold.” Even if the water and the atmosphere was heated enough for sweat to break out on your forehead. 
“Didn't I make my perspective on liars clear enough?” His thumb traced over your lips where falsehoods hid. Instead of asking more questions, he pressed his thumb into your mouth, grunting at the warmth of your tongue.
“What are you do—”
“Suck it.” 
Your skin prickled as his thumb stayed motionless on your tongue, your lips enveloping his roughened flesh. With deliberate slowness, he began moving his digit in and out of your mouth, and you complied with his silent demand.
You sucked on his thumb, careful not to scrape your teeth against his skin. A deep grunt escaped him as you choked slightly on how deeply he penetrated. What thoughts were swirling in his mind? Why did you want him to bring his dirty fantasies to life? What was it about him that sent a delicious dose of fright down your spine? 
“On your knees,” he commanded. 
You knelt before him as he withdrew his thumb, his hand encircling your neck. Leaning in, he pressed his lips firmly against yours, engulfing your skilled tongue with his own. Your arms instinctively wound around his neck as he effortlessly lifted you from the water, carrying you bridal style and placing your bare ass on the cold counter. Your legs entwined around his hips, lips locked together as he continued to explore the depths of your mouth.
Breaking the kiss, Toji spun on his heel, grabbing a fresh towel. 
“Dry yourself then get dressed. You don’t want that bastard to interrogate you. I want you gone when I’m back.” 
You scoffed. What the actual fuck? One minute he’s counting your orgasms, taking a warm bath with you, shoving his damn thumb in your mouth then following up with a kiss of a lifetime, and now he’s gone cold. 
Toji gave you a once-over, a ghost of a smirk on his lips, before exiting the bathroom. 
You slumped back against the mirror. “What the fuck did you do, Y/N?”
298 notes · View notes
sailorrhansol · 2 days
Text
You. Always. | ksy (m)
Tumblr media
❀ Pairing: Soonyoung x f. Reader 
❀ Summary: Soonyoung isn’t a jealous guy - he’s not. But sometimes it gets to him, the way other people look at you and fall a little in love with you. Don’t they know you have him? 
❀ Word Count: 5055
❀ Genre: Established Relationship, pwp
❀ Type: Smut, a little fluff
❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.
❀ Warnings: Almost jealous Soonyoung, a little hint of insecurity but nothing crazy, recreational drinking, Mingyu and Wonwoo lowkey being a little annoying and drunk, explicit language, explicit sexual content including unprotected vaginal sex, nipple play, oral (m. receiving), praise kink, pet names like baby and good boy, reader on top, spit and other bodily fluids, not explicit dom/sub dynamics but Soonyoung is very soft in this and reader is guiding him in parts, biting, both reader and Soonyoung are a little dazed and kinda spacy but it’s not explicitly subspace or described in the same way. 
❀ A/N: This is straight up from a dream I had, no joke. Woke up and was like I just had the weirdest dream about Soonyoung but it was in the Bahamas and a cruise ship was involved at some point but this is almost scene for scene from my dream. I feel blessed. 
❀ A/N 2: This was written entirely for @daechwitatamic and also thank you Jo for beta reading because I don’t know how to edit anything ever I’m baby
❀ Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.
Main Masterlist ❀ Tag List Request Form ❀ Ask ❀
Tumblr media
“Try this one,” Mingyu insists, laughing. He shoves a drink in your hand, all smiles and glittering eyes. You take the cup from him, the music of the club pulsing around you. A soft buzz ripples through you, a little drunk from the long day out in the sun followed by drinks at sunset, dinner and the afterparty. “It’s soooo good.” 
You trust Mingyu’s judgment - about drinks, anyway. Wonwoo cheers for you, clapping to the beat of the music as you bring the cup to your lips and knock it back. The soda mixed in the drink bubbles in the back of your throat but the taste of something strong burns and you cough, pulling the cup from your mouth with a grimace and squinted eyes.
Both of them begin laughing hysterically, throwing back their hands and clapping their hands. You laugh too, setting the cup down as you try and clear your throat from the liquid fire, tongue stuck out as you reach for a sweating glass of water. 
Wonwoo orders more drinks as you suck down water, freeing your mouth of the bitter taste of whatever it is they gave you. You turn on the stool, looking around the beachside club for Soonyoung. You catch him on the far side leaning against a wall, waiting for the bathroom. Sensing your gaze, he cranes his neck to look toward you, eyes pinning you to the spot immediately. 
Even from across the room, his gaze makes your stomach flip. You grin shyly, waving your hand a little. His lips twitch but his gaze shifts toward Mingyu and Wonwoo. His mouth tilts down a little before the bathroom door opens and he turns away entirely, vanishing down the hall. 
A server appears with a round of clear shots, setting them down on the table. Mingyu leans forward, picking one up with the intention of handing it to you, but you wave him off. “I’ll wait for Soonyoung.” 
Mingyu cranes his head. “Yeah, where the fuck did he go? I kind of forgot he was here.”
It isn’t Mingyu’s fault - he hasn’t known you for very long. Soonyoung has a habit of making friends anywhere the two of you go on vacation, though, and through the last week, you’ve managed to make Wonwoo and Mingyu regular friends while enjoying the summer off the coast of Greece. It had started with a volleyball game and now it has escalated to lunches, dinners and nightly escapades. 
Ever the talker - much like your boyfriend - Mingyu turns to the table next to yours and strikes up a conversation with the group of people there. Within a few minutes, he’s pulling their table to yours and shouting their names at you. You shake unfamiliar hands and grin, just happy to feel the balmy air on your skin and feel the heat of summer. 
Another round of drinks appears in clear, plastic cups, obeying the no glass on the beach rule. The beach club is lowkey and tucked away into the side of the mountain at the very end of the beach, requiring a trek through the sand to get there.
The area is open to the elements with wooden pavilions housing a few tables and benches. In the middle of the club is a long, illuminated shallow pool with tables for guests who are willing to take off their shoes and wade through the cool water to get there. 
You look down at the red drink in your hand, raising a brow as you watch everyone else throw the drink back, chugging as quickly as they can. When they put their cups down and realize you haven’t had yours, they immediately start yelling at you, Mingyu grabbing your forearm to shake you back and forth as he pouts and yells at you to chug.
“I’m gonna get too drunk,” you whine, holding onto the cup and trying not to spill the liquid as Mingyu complains. He pouts and gives you puppy eyes, clasping his hands together as he begs. Wonwoo and your new friends immediately join him, all of them peering up at you. 
“Please,” Wonwoo pleads from across the table, clasped hands tucked under his chin. “Please please please please.”
Before you can tip the cup back, it’s being pulled upward and out of your grip. You look up in surprise, mouth falling open as Soonyoung frees it from your grasp and tilts the cup to his lips. You watch as he drains it, head tilted back to expose the tan softness of his throat. Some of the red spills over the side, running down his chin and throat. 
You watch the beads of liquid, suddenly unable to focus on anything else but the way he looks in that moment. When you blink, Soonyoung’s head is no longer tilted as he leans forward to place the empty cup on the table. He doesn’t bother to wipe the red on his neck and you instinctively grab napkins as he throws himself in the booth across from you. 
He notices you holding them out and he takes them wordlessly, his energy shifted suddenly as he wipes the sticky red from his skin. If your new friends notice, they don’t say anything, cheering for him and then ordering more drinks as they shout over the music. 
When he left to use the restroom, your boyfriend had been in high spirits and a rowdy mood. Now, he’s subdued, eyes flickering between Wonwoo and Mingyu, a little darker than before. You frown, finishing the rest of your water as you drink in Soonyoung’s posture: slouched, mouth pouted, eyes narrowed.
Mingyu asks if you want another drink and you watch as Soonyoung’s mouth turns down. Ah. You decline and immediately Mingyu makes Soonyoung the same offer, but he shakes his head, suddenly interested in his phone. You think Mingyu notices this time that one of your party is clearly no longer in the drinking mood and disengages, turning easily to the others.
You nudge Soonyoung’s foot under the table. He looks up at you, a little dejected and shrugs his shoulders as if to say what? You nod your head toward the exit, raising your brows. He follows your meaning  and pauses for a moment, as though he’s torn between ending the night far earlier than usual or trying to endure his mood. 
Eventually, he nods, turning off his phone and shoving it in his pocket. You stand and announce that you’re feeling a little tired, but thank your friends for the drinks. They all immediately complain, begging you to stay for at least one more round.
“It’s always one more round with you all,” you shoot back. “We can catch up another day. I’m tired and honestly I really just want to lay in bed with my boyfriend.” 
“Yeah, yeah,” Mingyu huffs, waving you off. “Do whatever it is couples do on vacation.”
Without a word, you hold your hand out to Soonyoung to leave. He stares at it for a moment before his mouth twitches upward and he takes it, lacing his fingers with yours. You give him a gentle squeeze as you lead toward the exit of the club, waving to the manager who is used to your group’s presence by now. 
Outside, the world is only lit by the moon. It sits high up in the sky, turning the world a dark blue as you and Soonyoung walk the beach. The quiet tension follows him outside of the club and down a few meters. You wait for him to say something, peeking at him from the corner of your eye.
In the years you’ve been dating, you’ve learned to read him pretty well. You know something about your interaction with Mingyu and Wonwoo bothers him, but you’re unsure of the specifics. Soonyoung isn’t a jealous boyfriend, but every once in a while there is something that bothers him. An old wound that peels open at the edge and stings him. 
You tug on his hand. He’s surprised, stumbling a little as you yank him off balance and into you. His cologne is laced with his own natural scent, making your head spin as your chests press together and you bring a hand up to his face, stroking a strand of dark hair out of his eyes. 
Soonyoung is beautiful. You’ve always thought so. Eyes that can go from intense to gentle, a round face that is somehow also sharp, a cute mouth prone to laughing. You’ve traced the lines of his face over and over again and still, every time you’re this close to him, you feel your heart skip a beat. 
“You’re not jealous, right?” 
He shakes his head imperceptibly. He looks down at you, bottom lip jutting out a bit. You fight a smile, trying to focus on making sure he’s okay instead of the way his face has melted from contemplative to pouting. 
“You can tell me if I did something that made you uncomfortable, you know that right?” 
He nods in tiny. His hands hang at his sides, like he’s hesitant to touch you. To do anything. You take his face in both of your hands, cocking your head to the side as you study him. “What’s the matter, baby? What’s bothering you?”
“I’m not jealous,” he starts and stops. You wait for him to continue. You’ve always been better at putting your thoughts to words than he has, and you know he just needs the time to organize them. “And you never do things that make me jealous. I just…” 
Ocean water surges behind you, the gentle push and pull of the swells the only sound as Soonyoung strings his thoughts together. You continue to cradle his face in your hands, thumb stroking back and forth on his cheek. You feel him lean into your touch, going a little weak under your attention. 
“I just know how easy it is to love you,” he finally says. He chews his bottom lip a little and you catch it with your thumb, keeping him from breaking the skin. “You are beautiful and charming, and I can always tell when other people realize it too. It isn’t that… I think you’d like them back or anything. I just feel possessive and then silly for feeling that way.” 
“It isn’t silly.”
“It isn’t?” 
You shake your head and his voice gets small and soft. “I don’t want it to seem insecure or annoying, and I don’t know why I suddenly felt that way. I usually don't.”
“It’s not silly,” you assure him again. “It’s okay to feel that way sometimes. You’re a human being and you’re allowed to feel things, even if you don’t necessarily know why or how you feel them.” 
“I’m sorry I made us leave early.”
“You didn’t make us do anything, and there is nothing to apologize for. I like going home and just spending time with you. I came here with you. We can make vacation friends all we want, but I have the most fun when you’re involved.”
His mouth twitches in a smile and he nods a little, affirmed by your words. “Can we go home?” 
“Mhmm.”
You lean up on your toes and press a quick kiss to his mouth. Immediately he wants more, chasing your lips but you skip away from him, tugging him along by his hand. He frowns, a little put out. You try not to giggle, feeling your stomach flip a little. 
Soonyoung is so rare like this. He loves being soft, but this is something even gentler. Something delicate and wonderful and endearing. You can’t help but keep him trailing after you, feeling the way his eyes linger on you. Hungry. Wanting. Needing. 
You keep him waiting. 
Catching a taxi up the mountain to the house you’re staying at is easy. The driver rolls the window down, letting the salty air drift in as he goes up and up. You lean against Soonyoung’s shoulder, putting your entwined hands in your lap. He melts into you, head atop yours and eyes fluttering shut as the breeze lifts his hair. 
You love him like this. He looks so young, so capable of love. It’s your favorite thing about him, his ability to love freely, deeply and often. There is so much affection and kindness in him, a well so deep that you have yet to hit the bottom. 
Soonyoung is a little drowsy when the taxi pulls up to the village square. He rouses with a mumbled thank you and clambours out the car behind you, eager to follow your lead up the winding steps that lead through the village houses.
It’s mostly quiet, with the echoes of voices drifting up from open windows and patios, the din of voices from restaurants in the main square hanging on the wind. You manage not to get lost this time as you navigate the winding pathways to the correct house, the blue fence blending in with the dozen other blue fences. 
The cicadas are quiet as you walk down the steps to the front of the home. You tap Soonyoung’s pockets and he blushes, forgetting he has the keys. He’s quick to produce them and pass them over, watching you expectantly as you unlock it and step into the darkness. 
Cool air drifts in from the open windows. There’s no air conditioning in the rented house, but the ocean wind that comes in at night through open shutters is enough to cool you off. 
Soonyoung is quiet. He follows your lead up the stairs to the second floor where the bedroom is, lingering in the doorway when you drop his hand and turn to face him as you walk backward into the room. He’s hypnotized as you unbutton the top of your shirt slowly, staring at him. 
The way he looks at you ignites a fire inside of you. No one else could look at you like this, equal parts reverence and hunger. No one else could make your hands shake as you stare at him staring at you, his lips parted a little, tongue darting out to wet them as he swallows. 
Your blouse falls open and you shuck it off, letting it hit the floor. Moonlight paints your side profile. Soonyoung doesn’t dare move from the door until you hold out a hand, palm upward. “Come here,” you whisper. He obeys immediately, nearly tripping over his feet to get to you. 
His hands go around your waist, warm against your skin. You wind your arms around his neck, pulling him in close, fingers threading in his hair and pulling a little. He lets out a soft sound as you tilt his face toward yours, forcing him to meet your eyes. His pupils are blown and you can feel his heart thundering against yours. 
“You know I love you more than anything else, right?” For a second, he just stares at you, eyes fixated on your mouth. You pull his hair a little more and he sucks in a sharp breath before nodding a little. He seems too dazed to do more than the barest acknowledgement. “Do you want me to show you?” 
You lean up to brush your nose against his. Soonyoung’s eyes fall shut and you feel a shiver go through him. His breath is unsteady when you brush your mouth against his in an almost kiss. “Do you want me to show you how much I love you, Soonyoung?” 
He nods again, unable to find words. Your nails scratch at his scalp gently and he lets out a breathy moan, melting in your hands. “Okay,” you whisper, pressty a soft kiss to his mouth. He tries to chase your lips again but you step back and tug at him. “Come lay down.” 
Soonyoung obeys. He’s always been a good boy, but having him like this isn’t common. You like to think that you’re both equal parts in charge in the bedroom, flowing with whatever the other needs. Having him like this, sitting down on the bed and looking up at you like you cradle his world in your hands though… it lights you up. 
“Lay back for me,” you instruct gently. He does immediately, bouncing a little on the mattress. You climb onto the mattress, knees on either side of his waist as you crawl up toward him, settling your weight on his hips. Immediately his hands reach toward your hips and stop, hovering as he gets stuck between doing what he wants and waiting for you to tell him. “Go ahead,” you whisper, leaning toward him. “Take whatever you want. You can have whatever.” 
Warm hands grip your waist. Your fingers expertly undo the buttons of his shirt and you make sure to brush them against his stomach as you move upward. You feel the muscles jump and he lets out another breathy sound. His hands just remain on your sides, not ready to explore more as he fixates on the way you pull his shirt off of his shoulders.
He’s a little clumsy when he leans up to help you shuck it off. You don’t care, surging forward to capture his mouth in a full kiss as he does. He forgets all about taking the shirt off, sleeves halfway down his arms as he leans forward to lick into your mouth, hungry and desperate for whatever you’ll give him.
You don’t hold back, letting him consume you. His mouth is warm and wet, tasting faintly of cherry from one of the drinks he had earlier. You love it, humming delightly as your hands brush from his shoulders to where his shirt is stuck near the elbows. You tug but the material is restricted, making you break away from the kiss with a laugh. 
“Sorry,” he mumbles, letting your hips go to take the shirt all the way off. 
Immediately your hands seek the heat of his skin, brushing from his shoulders to his chest and down his stomach and back up, fingers loving every groove and plane. He shivers under your touch, eyes fluttering shut. “You’re so pretty,” you whisper, pushing him back gently so that he’s laying down again. He lets you trace him, though you can feel his hips twitch under you, turned on by your exploration. “So pretty, Soonyoung. Do you know that?” 
Again, he gives the tiniest nod. You smile and lean forward, holding yourself up by planting a hand on either side of his head. You catch his mouth again and he lifts his head up, eager to taste you. A hum of appreciation escapes you as you kiss him slowly, pressing your hips down into his. 
Soonyoung moans and it’s so delicate that it makes you dizzy. You feel fucked out from this version of him already, the room spinning as you rut gently into him. You grab his hands that rest on your ass and pull them up your sides to your bra, a command. 
He understands immediately, pulling at the clasps to undo the back. You break the kiss again, mouth feeling bruised, to lean up and toss the garment. His hands find your chest immediately and you feel goosebumps burst on your skin at his touch, large hand squeezing. 
You let him rub his thumb over your pert nipples, spiking the pleasure in your stomach. You let out a light sound and shiver in his hands, ducking back down to press your mouth to his lips, the corner of his mouth, his chin - anywhere you can kiss. 
His skin is salty and sweet, your tongue darting out to soothe his flesh after a sharp bite. He’s putty beneath you, completely at your mercy as your mouth maps out the way you love him. Every kiss, bite and lick is another declaration: I love you. I love you. I love you. 
Light moans drip from his lips as you pepper him with kisses. Dragging your teeth across his chest lightly, you watch as he shivers and squeezes his eyes shut. Grinning, you move your mouth over his nipple, tongue flicking out lightly. A sharp hiss escapes through his gritted teeth, his head digging backward into the bed as he arches under you. 
“Fuck,” he gasps. 
A hum escapes you as you close your mouth over his nipple, sucking gently. He’s so sensitive, whining and squeezing your sides. You trail your mouth across his chest, leaving a wet trail as you do before dragging your teeth across his other nipple. 
“Pretty,” you mumble again, moving your mouth lower. You teeth at his skin as you go, feeling him twitch beneath you. His hands drop to the sheet, twisting them in a vice grip as he lets you scoot down his lap until you’re off the bed and on the carpet, undoing his pants as you go. 
Getting him out of his pants is hard - Soonyoung is loose-limbed and clumsy, hands shaking as he helps you pull the fabric down followed by his briefs. You let out an appreciative moan when you take his cock in your hand, heavy, warm and leaking at the tip. 
He can barely keep it together when you stroke him, hand firm, thumb brushing over the sticky tip. You watch every reaction, eyes focused on the flush in his cheeks, the way he chews on his bottom lip to try and keep from whimpering, the way his fingers twist in the blankets. 
“So perfect,” you whisper, leaning up to kiss his inner thighs as you continue to work him with your hand. His hips twitch upward and you let him, continuing to run your tongue along his thigh. “You’re the perfect boyfriend.” 
“Hnnn,” is the mumbled answer. 
Leaning up high on your knees, you tilt his cock toward your mouth, licking leisurely around the tip. He keens and you smirk, feeling your cunt clench as you take him in your mouth properly, spurred on by the way he falls apart instantly. 
This is another thing you love. It doesn’t matter the dynamic, Soonyoung always crumbles at your touch - craves it, needs it, wants it more than anything. It’s hard not to feel like a god as you hear him pant your name, watch the way the breath catches in his throat as you take him deep into your throat, the flat of your tongue scraping the underside of his cock as you go. 
You’re not clean with it. You let spit drip out the corner of your mouth, let yourself gag a little. Work what you can’t fit past your lips with the rest of your hand, getting carried away. His hand shoots to your head - he doesn’t push or pull, just leaves it there, like it can ground him.
Pulling off with a loud pop, you give his shaft a squeeze, kissing the inside of his thigh again. A mix of cum and spit shine in the moonlight when you pull your mouth away. 
“I love seeing you like this,” you rasp. “Love watching you fall apart.”
“Please,” he gasps, managing to lift his head up and look down at you. His hair is damp with sweat and his eyes are fucked out, gaze unfocused. “Don’t wanna come in your mouth.”
“I’ve got you.” You give a single, long lick up his shaft for good measure, feeling him tremble before you stand up to take your pants off. He makes a pitiful sound, hand shooting toward you, hating being away from you. “One second, baby. Sorry.” 
“S’okay.” 
Naked, you crawl up the bed again. His hands shoot to your thighs, kneading the flesh and rubbing his palms up and down, warming you up. You feel the wetness drip down your thighs, worked up from working him up. From the way he moans when you press your pussy to his cock, you know he can feel it. 
“All good?” you ask gently, pressing your forehead against his. His eyes are closed and he’s breathing hard, a sheen of sweat on his brow. You hold yourself over him with one hand and bring the other up to brush the hair off his forehead. “Too much?”
He shakes his head. “No, just. Sensitive.”
“Mhmm. You’ll tell me if it’s too much?”He nods in tiny, opening his eyes to look up at you like you’re the sun, the moon, and all of his stars. “Good boy,” you breathe and he moans, hips canting upward to rub his cock against your folds. “I love you.”
He nods again, eager and desperate. “Love you.”
Sitting up on your knees, you reach a hand under you, gripping him firmly. Soonyoung opens his eyes, making sure to watch your every move with swollen, parted lips and half-lidded eyes. You feel drunk from the way he looks at you, as hypnotized by him as he is of you.
You press the tip of his cock against your entrance, both of you groaning. Carefully, you sink down on him, your breath getting stuck in your throat. The stretch punches the breath from your lungs but it’s good, the ache replaced with something stronger, better. He fills up every part of you - you feel him deep in your stomach as you fully seat yourself on him, ass pressed to his pelvis as you fight for air. 
“Fuck, Soonyoung,” you mutter, falling forward to plant a hand on his chest. You lean your weight forward, pushing him into the mattress and holding yourself up. You can feel his thundering heart under your palm, beat matching your own pounding pulse. “Feel so good.”
“Wanna be. Wanna be for you.”
“You are. You always are. I could never want anything else, you know that right?” A tiny, barely there nod. “You make me feel so good. Always do.” 
“Please.”
You know what he’s asking. You give it to him, slowly lifting yourself until you’ve almost pulled off him entirely. You drop back down hard, knocking the breath from your lungs as you spear yourself on him. It is intoxicatingly good, pleasure rippling outward like a stone dropped in a lake. You chase the feel, repeating the motion until you’re nearly mindless and out of breath. 
“Shit,” you swear, laughing a little as your head drops down. You can’t focus on anything but rolling your hips, fucking yourself onto him as his hands grab your ass, not controlling you but gripping fiercely. “God damn fuck.”
Soonyoung laughs, deep and gravely as the cockiness you’re used to bleeds back in for a moment. “Yeah?”
You clench your cunt as you sink down on him, making him let out a high-pitched noise at the move and you grin. “Yeah,” you shoot back. “Thought so.” 
A knot twists in your stomach as you set a smooth pace, thighs burning. Pleasure ribbons through you, twisting and turning, his hands dimpling your flesh. He lets you keep your pace at first, taking everything you give him, his feet planted flat on the mattress as he tries to contain himself, curses escaping between clenched teeth.
Your legs tremble. Your nails dig into the hard muscle of his chest. He senses your movements get a little strained, the pleasure making it harder to focus on lifting yourself. You feel his grip on your ass change, Soonyoung putting power behind it to help lift you up and pull you back down. He thrusts up to meet you, the wet squelch of his harder thrusts intoxicating. 
“Fuck yeah,” you gasp, giving up the pretense of riding him and letting him take over. “Fuck me just like that.” 
It’s all he needs before his grip turns iron and he’s fucking up into you with abandon. Your hand slips on his chest as the power of his thrusts knock you off balance. You let yourself crash together, chest against chest. Soonyoung wraps his arms around your back, holding you to him. 
Your mouth finds his neck, burying your face in there as you try to steady your breathing. It feels like your heart might explode, his name falling from your lips as you press them against his neck. He mumbles something unintelligible, pace picking up. 
“Shit,” you pant. “Shit shit shit shit - Soonyoung - shit.” 
He huffs, something like laughter before his pace is brutal. He fucks you fast and deep, your mind blanking as you crest upward. All you can do is hold on to him, mouth panting against his throat, your muscles squeeze squeeze squeezing until you’re coming hard. 
Everything goes blank. Your ears ring and you’re vaguely aware of his wild thrusts as he chases his orgasm. You melt in his grip, letting him use you, completely boneless. 
Soonyoung growls your name as he comes, pace slowing as he fucks you deep until he stills. You feel the stickiness between you and the way he’s still shaking. You rise and fall with his heavy breathing, both of your heartbeats erratic and thoughts staticky. 
You lay there like that for a while, a pile of exhausted limbs and few thoughts. His arms loosen their grip around you and he starts rubbing his hands up and down your back. It draws you back into the moment more and you open your eyes to look up at him. 
Soonyoung’s eyes are closed and his breathing is deep. You can tell he isn’t asleep, but rather enjoying the moment, his face tilted toward the window where the moon floats over the mountains. He looks so pretty like this, face soft and serene. 
“You’re staring at me,” he murmurs, his voice low and spent. “You could at least tell me I’m pretty.”
“I just did. Several times.”
His mouth tilts upward but he doesn’t open his eyes. “I like hearing it.”
“Fine. You’re the prettiest boy.” 
“Hmm. Yeah?”
“Yes. And I love you.”
“Say it again.” Soonyoung opens his eyes and they meet yours. They’re clearer now, and crinkled at the sides when he gives you a smile that feels far too innocent for the fluids running down your thighs and the way your cunt still clenches around him. “I like when you say it.”
“I love you.” 
He smirks. “Just me?”
You lean up and nip his neck. He giggles, leaning away from you. “You. Always.” 
He sighs. “Me,” he agrees. “Always.” 
-
PERMANENT TAG LIST:
@jespecially @asyre
If you don't see your tag here and have requested to be tagged on the tag list, it's because your tagging was unavailable.
251 notes · View notes
imlcdrcs · 3 days
Text
It has been said time and time again, and I will continue the topic and say it again myself; the representation of healthy masculinity within lotr is by far one of the best I have ever seen in any work of fiction. so many of the men within middle-earth show love to one another openly and without hesitant, they cry, they express grief, fear, and worry openly and without shame, they feel and show heavy emotions, they express their struggles openly and in a healthy manner, they admit defeat and express their wrongdoings, seeking to do better, they do not tell one another to "man up" or to hide their feelings, they embrace it and are open about it, many dress in ways that are highly elegant and pretty, many wear their hair long and flowing, adorned with glorious jewels and gorgeous braids, not once ever fearing if this somehow makes them less of a man for embracing these attributes, they kiss their loved ones, they embrace them within their arms whether it be in the form of a hug or a cuddle, they nurture and heal their injured, they fight for what they believe in and those that they love, all while remaining soft, albeit strong. their masculinity isn't fragile, demeaning, toxic, or aggressive; it is gentle, nurturing, protective, strong, caring, open, and vulnerable. This is what healthy masculinity is. This is what masculinity should be. These men do not fear or hate their gentleness, vulnerability, emotions, or affection; they fear and fight only what threatens to take away just that.
308 notes · View notes
cozycottagetarot · 3 days
Text
How Can You Manifest Your Wishes?
Tumblr media
 Notes:
This is not one of my favourite readings, but I hope you find something useful in it!These types of readings are always slightly difficult to keep organise but I tried my best. I'd love to know if you prefer paragraphs or bullet points as well! Shout out to the anon who recommended this reading!
‼️ This reading is in no way shape or form meant to act as or substitute professional advice of any kind. Please use your discretion, think carefully before you act and only take what resonates be it a little, some or none at all. ‼️
This PAC Includes:
This Might Resonate If Your Wish Is...
The Energy You're In
The Energy You Need To Be In
Extended Reading Includes
How Can You Open Yourself Up
What's Working vs What's Not Working
Additional Messages
Dividers From X
Reading Masterlist | Patreon | Paid Readings -- Open 🥂
Tumblr media
PILE 1
This Might Resonate If Your Wish Is...
Wishes for a full-life makeover. If it’s a wish (or goal) you feel blocked or burnout pursuing. A wish you keep coming back to or feels like a ‘higher calling’. A wish of the heart. A wish around love (of any kind).
The Energy You're In
It feels like you’re in this bright, playful energy and you’re just absolutely ready to go! You see all the possible laid out before you and you’re getting excited about it. You could be coming out of a rough period and you’re trying to rebuild your sense of positivity. You’re trying to move on to the next version of you. You’re expecting the best (or you should be) and are in this very attractive and magnetic energy right now. You have a card here the Flamingo which is all about fun and the vibes of this section make me think of Espresso by Sabrina Carpenter. The vibe of the music video feels very playful and fun and the line “my give a f*cks are on vacation” reminds me of the energy you're in at the moment. It all feels very warm like I can almost feel the sun on my skin.
HOWEVER, you may be focusing on these possibilities through the eyes of others… living vicariously through others. What I mean by this is viewing people through social media, books, even in person and believing you can do what they do (which is fine) but through their experience or as them rather than you… I hope that makes sense. You may hold onto the super intense aspects of love or pleasure. This can be especially important regarding relationships! I will make a post on this a little later (it’s drafted), but the energy you’re in requires you to take a look at what ‘work’ you’re asking others to do for you. You need to focus on how you’re channeling the vibrant passionate energy you’re embodying at the moment.
The Energy You Need To Be In
As beautiful as your current energy is, you need to slow your roll a little bit here. Yes, hold onto the belief that things are going great for you— but you also need to ground yourself and savour the small moments too. Enjoy ALL the good things… right down to the perfectly crafted beverage. Take chances but double-check your trajectory first. Don’t just rush in, you’re in need of a balance right now. You’re in a phase of transition but divine timing is also at play. However, I feel like if you try to force things then you might end up bringing a 'tower moment' on yourself (if you’re about to panic, relax!) where you’re forced to take a look at what is truly important to you.
Thank you for making it this far! If you're interested in extended reading which includes how you can open yourself up, what's working vs what's not and more then you can check it out here!
Tumblr media
PILE 2
This Might Resonate If Your Wish Is...
 Of personal strength. Wishing your wish will come true. Balance. Employment (especially self employment). A wish to remove a known block or a wish for a solution of any kind. Relating to being in between phases. Something that will bring you a sense of safety or stability. Gaining your wings. Wishes involving social connections.
*Relationships are such a strong theme here, but it seems as though it maybe experience from childhood that come up a lot in this reading
The Energy You're In
I think you’re in an energy of waiting and surveying your surroundings... Like when someone’s wounded and retreats to regroup and tend to themselves. Main themes relate to boundaries, relationships and self care. You’re trying to find allies but I think it’s a little bit hard right now. Very analytical mind, trying to determine what stays and what goes. Things are definitely shifting and you’re just kind of keeping to yourself. Communication is such a big thing for you here. I feel like you’re really just on the sidelines taking things slow. You want to ally with others but you need to tend to yourself first or at least that’s your focus right now. You’re mainly in an energy of taking stock it seems… on alert in changing circumstances. You might be ruminating on how you communicate with others? There’s a suggest to look at how you experienced communication growing up? You might be stuck in your head… seeing “people” as not safe.
Idk guys, like are you good? Usually Pile 3 is the one that messes with me but the energies here feel sooo off. Kind of wondering if you're fatigued, hung up over someone even? Not necessarily romantically but someone who was/is supposed to have your back and you’re just hitting a wall or something at the moment. The energy literally disappearaed once I moved onto the energy you need to be in so take that as a positive sign!
If it ain’t me — Dua Lipa kept coming to me and disco balls stood out from the cards.
The Energy You Need To Be In
I feel like you need to be in an energy where, yes you’re surveying/assessing your surroundings, but you have to get up and do so instead of sitting around. You need to take action and expand your horizons. Be bold and go for it... I think you’ve got what you need. The consistent message is that doing nothing is not an option. Take a chance on what will fulfill your desires. Accepting endings is important and being able to move on. Allow yourself to transition to a fresh start.
Consider your image and how you show up as/interact with authority. Leadership. Especially emotional leadership. Parenting oneself and/or setting the example for how you want others to treat you. Create a safe home ‘base’ (internal or external) but don’t get stuck in it. Maybe ask yourself what creates home? Makes you feel safe/secure? You also could need to take a look at sibling relationships or any with a sibling like dynamic and factor in how you those affect how you show up is important to look at too. I think this could relate to blocks. But you need to place your roots first and then explore.
Trust yourself and make a move. Focus on your strengths and believe that you have gathered enough data to move forward. Structure and strategy are going to be your friends. Honor those ‘above’ you but hold onto your power. Set boundaries and hold other accountable (and yourself too).
Thank you for making it this far! If you're interested in extended reading which includes how you can open yourself up, what's working vs what's not and more then you can check it out here!
Tumblr media
PILE 3
This Might Resonate If Your Wish Is...
Travel, adventure, family, community, friendships/found family, creative projects, diving intervention, exploring new interest, work-life balance.
The Energy You're In
Closing out cycles and actively transforming. Seeking out messages from the divine. You're open to receiving messages and guidance. Very calm and zen feeling. Maybe feeling like you're going through or have recently gone through a rebirth. You're ready to make moves. Strong willed. "What do you want to do?" is a question that should be potentially on your mind if it's not. Taking inspired action. Bring play into your life/how can you do so? This can even apply to relationships. Healing. Compare and contrasting how past events influence you and if how you're showing up matches your intentions. Heavy on the "level up" energy but this is a kind you're actively seeking. Exploring relationships, mentorships, ideas. Leaning on love ones. Generally being in good vibes.
Feels like a combination of pile 1 and 2 so if you were drawn to one of those as well I recommend checking them out.
This also feels like a very spiritual pile? I'm not sure how describe it but I kept saying 'the Universe' alot while I was doing this reading so of course just adjust it to whatever suits you and your belief best! 
The Energy You Need To Be In
It's slightly hard to organise the messages here. There's a need to ground yourself. Don't stop working on healing, but also maintain your stability. Expansion & communication. Abundance is coming in. Remember you're worthy of abundance and your manifestation skills are heightened. Big things are coming for you. Expanding your perspective as well. Where do you need to speak up? You can and should try to lean on others. Open your heart... you don't have to have an armored heart. Cultivate your wishes, the things you want to grow. Nurture your wishes and your heart. Make sure you're clear on what you want to manifest. Keep your motivation up by focusing on short term steps. Look to mentors for guidance.
Thank you for making it this far! If you're interested in extended reading which includes how you can open yourself up, what's working vs what's not and more then you can check it out here!
Tumblr media
PILE 4
This Might Resonate If Your Wish Is...
Nostalgia. Happiness. Needing motivation. Heavily charged emotional wishes. Something relating to others… not necessarily currently though. Like a wish that was formed because of someone years ago. If you have a vision board. Looking for a break. Or for a break to end. A wish where you’ve heard divine timing is at play. Direction. A waiting period to be over. Trying to break something you know isn’t good for you.
Pay attention to words, phrases or songs that come up often.
The Energy You're In
You’re very guarded. You’re wanting to break away from whatever is just weighing on you and you’re working hard at it but at the same time I feel like you just won’t let go??? Despite you working to break the chains or get a move on, it feels like they’re never ending but they are ending!! Don’t be fooled by appearances.
I think you’re very future focused and all about recreating yourself (I heard in entirety). You’re trying to expand your pov and I feel also kind of just nurture yourself internally. Very introspective trying to figure out who you are and what you want to do or who you want to be.
The Energy You Need To Be In
I didn’t really get anything specifically about money regarding wishes but I think it at least revolves around some kind of stability heavily. You need to be walking away from what isn’t serving you. Realise that you can create just about anything right now... anything goes.
You need to be doing what’s best for you regardless of if you hate it. Your day to day life is super important. I don’t know if rainbows are important to you but also I’m feeling like you need to fill your life with colour too. You need to become clear on resources and what they mean to you such as money, you body, other material possessions etc. get your financial life together. Do some deep cleaning. Like normally these readings are a matter of mindset and mental work but this pile feels very physical. Beautify your life and make it aesthetically pleasing without breaking the bank. How can you use art as well to make a masterpiece out of your feelings? How can you make your day to day life more enjoyable?
Thank you for making it this far! If you're interested in extended reading which includes how you can open yourself up, what's working vs what's not and more then you can check it out here!
202 notes · View notes
sm-baby · 2 days
Note
**leans in** Well now that you've seen the second episode (finally lmaoo)...how do you feel about 'funnygummy'? (pomni x gummigoo)
Obligatory ur allowed to like the ship even if I dont, etc. etc.
No thank you! Its the same discomfort as button blossom with how much its been pushed by fans! TwT
Ive had friends in their AUs get asked if gummy was gonna be Pomni's love interest and I??? 😭😭😭 HE WASNT EVEN HER LOVE INTEREST IN THE SHOW???
Ive legit been so worried to open my inbox again and all its gonna be was funnygummy TwT so yeah, Ill probably be blocking the tag.
I adore them so much,,, i love their friendship so much.. and I don't want to dislike Gummy because I dislike the ship! I LOVE GUMMI!! HES SO!! AGHHH WELL WRITTEN!!! I LIKE GUMMIGOO!! SOMEONE SHOULD BUY A GUMMI PLUSHY AND A POMNI PLUSHY AND HAVE THEM REUNITE AND HAVE HAPPY FUN TIMES!!
I like them as friends... Strong platonic friendships are my favorites.. im aroace and Im just so happy that Pomni has (HAD 😭😭😭) a friend
183 notes · View notes
Text
Second Chance
Pairing: Cassian x Reader
Summary: Reader and Cassian have been friends for centuries, but nobody knows that she’s in love with him. Eventually she meets her mate in the market, but when he breaks her heart, Cassian is there to pick up the pieces, and offer her a second chance at love.
Based on this request! 🩷
Warnings: Swearing
Word Count: 4.5k
Cassian snickered as he landed on top of you, effectively pinning you beneath him. 
You grunted, “Okay, you win. Get off.”
He cocked his head, grinning. “I don’t know, this is pretty comfy.”
“You’ve proven your point,” you groaned, your head throbbing from hitting it on the ground of the training ring on top of the House. You tried to wiggle out from under him, but it was no use. He was massive, and your body was rendered utterly immobile. 
After another torturous moment, Cassian stood up, offering you his hand. He hoisted you up to your feet and you groaned again. 
“What were you saying about being able to beat me one-on-one?” he smirked. 
You just scowled at him and his smile spread further. He clapped you on the back. You winced at the impact. “Go get some water.”
Normally you would say something snarky about following orders, but your head was still spinning a bit, so you did as you were told without argument. 
You must have looked pretty awful because after a few minutes, Cassian knelt in front of where you sat on the bench, his eyes searching yours. “You okay?”
Nodding as you gulped down more water, you mumbled, “Mmhmm.”
His brow furrowed as he gently felt the back of your head, feeling the growing bump there. “Shit,” he said. “I didn't mean to pin you down that hard. Sorry.”
You shrugged, smiling faintly at your friend. “I knew I couldn’t beat you. It’s my own fault.”
He lightly brushed the hair that had come out of your braid off your face. You pushed down the swell in your chest, as you always did. “I think it’s time for the cool down,” he said, his eyes raking your sweaty, tired body. 
Your eyes widened. “You, the legendary commander of the Illyrian armies, are going to cut training short because you knocked me on my ass?” 
“Only for you,” he winked, offering you his hand again. “Don’t tell anyone.”
You took it, and followed Cassian as he guided you through the stretches. 
This had been your routine for a while. You had been in Rhysand’s inner circle for the last few centuries, and had found your home and family with them. Pretty quickly, you knew you wanted to be useful for more than just your mind, so you had asked Cassian to train you. You had started out at the Illyrian camps, but the way the males there treated you was…unsettling, to say the least. And it made Cassian angrier than you had ever seen him. So now you trained on the top of the House, sometimes accompanied by others, but often it was just the two of you. 
Training with him nearly every day for centuries had brought the two of you very close together. He was definitely the best friend you had ever had. He was your favorite person in the world. The two of you talked about everything.
Well, almost everything.
Even after all this time, butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you watched him, how his muscles stretched and bulged, his brow furrowed in concentration, his tanned skin gleaming with sweat in the morning sun. 
You had been in love with him for a very, very long time.
Frankly, it sucked being in love with your best friend. Your best friend, who flirted shamelessly with nearly everybody, who had a body even the gods were surely jealous of. Who was so kind and good and brave that nobody could ever compare. 
Especially not you.
That was the main problem, really. Why you had never said anything. You knew you could never deserve him, no matter how long you lived. He was legendary. Literally. He was strong, fearless, and so, so kind. And not to harp on this too much but, that body. Compared to him, you were entirely insignificant and you always would be.
So, you suffered in silence. Loved him from afar. And waited for the Mother or the Cauldron or whoever it was that was in charge of your fate and your mate to get their act together.
“What’s running through that pretty head of yours?” Cassian said, glancing over at you.
You reigned in your scowl. Centuries of friendship made it extremely easy for him to read you like a book. “I’m debating whether I hate you for pinning me to the ground like it was nothing, or if I love you for cutting training short,” you said, breathless as you continued to follow him through the stretches. 
He smirked. “Oh, please. You know you love me.”
Rolling your eyes goodnaturedly you grumbled, “Yeah, I know.”
If only he knew. 
---
Inner circle meetings these days were about twenty percent important business, and eighty percent goofing off. 
You loved it.
Seated between Azriel and Amren, with Cassian across from you, you grinned as the warrior picked a fight with Amren.
Azriel and you exchanged amused glances, both knowing that Cassian had never won against Amren, and he certainly wouldn’t start today. 
After they had been squabbling for quite some time about something that you honestly weren’t paying super close attention to, Amren turned to you, snarling, “Can you please tell him he’s a fool?”
Cassian sat back in his chair, clutching his chest, making a great show of being offended.
“Why me?” you asked. 
“He actually listens to you,” Amren said, pointedly raising an eyebrow.
You snorted. “He does not.”
Azriel cut in, smiling faintly. “He does. More than the rest of us, anyway.”
You glanced at Cassian, who just smirked back at you. “What can I say? She’s obviously the smartest one here.”
This, of course, started a whole new round of insults from Amren that left Cassian chuckling to himself, his eyes sparkling as he gazed at you through the entire barrage of Amren’s insults.
Later, you and Cassian were lounging in the sitting room at the House of Wind, after everyone else had wandered off home or gone to bed. 
You were laying down on the couch, reading a book. Cassian was sitting at the far end of said couch, your feet in his lap while he read up on war strategies. 
It was only a matter of time before the romance novel that you were reading got… steamy. 
Cassian immediately noticed the shift in your scent and threw his head back laughing. “Why do you read smut in front of people?”
You kicked his chest lightly, which only made him laugh more. “It’s not like I know when the smutty scenes are going to happen!”
“This one really got to you, huh?” he said, noticing the blush that had risen to your cheeks.
Before you could stop him, he lunged for you, grabbing your book and wrenching it from your hands.
“Noo!” you shrieked, and covered your face in embarrassment as he read aloud.
“His weight on top of me was nearly enough for me to come undone,” he said in a deep, sultry voice. “I couldn’t focus on anything but the power and command in his movements as he grasped both my wrists in one hand and pinned them to the bed above my head.”
You couldn’t stand it anymore. You grabbed for the book, but he was faster and caught you as you moved toward him. His arm wrapped around your waist and he spun you, pinning you to the couch, his weight holding you down for the second time that day.
But, this time was… different. Your bodies were completely flush together, every inch of you touching him. His hair tickled your neck as he looked down at you, your faces a fraction away from each other. 
The two of you just stared at each other for a moment, breathing hard. You could smell it on him too now, the lust. In this moment, he wanted you. You knew he did. Heat went through you in a wave.
And he knew it. 
“This is what you’re into, huh?” he said huskily.
You glared at him, but you knew the lust was still shining in your eyes. 
He smirked. “Is that why you baited me during training today? You wanted to feel me on top of you?”
Yes. “No!” You scowled, pushing his shoulders, but he didn’t move. “I baited you because I wanted to see how long I would last.”
Cassian’s smirk turned positively wolfish, his eyes gleaming in a way you’d never seen before.
You groaned, realizing what you just said. “Not like that.” You pushed against him again. “Get off of me, Cassian!”
He dipped his head lower, his lips just a breath away from yours. “Are you sure you want me to?” he said, his voice low, sultry. You could hardly breathe.
No, of course I don’t want you to. I want to stay here forever and ever.
“Yes,” you ground out. 
His lips darted to your lips for the briefest moment before he pushed off of you, sitting on his knees. After a moment, he handed the book to you. 
“I hate you,” you mumbled.
He smirked. “No, you don’t.”
You couldn’t stop your small smile. “No, I don’t.”
---
For days, you felt rattled by what happened that night. Cassian, of course, seemed relaxed as ever, but you felt yourself blush every time you were around him.
You were in the market, your thoughts lost in Cassian as usual, when someone across the street caught your eye.
He was beautiful. The very definition of tall, dark, and handsome. You felt drawn to him in a way you had never felt before, not even with Cassian.
You stopped in your tracks, unable to take your eyes off him.
After a few moments, he looked up and your eyes met.
And you felt it.
The mating bond that snapped into place. That tethered you permanently to this stranger.
And judging from the look in his eyes, he felt it too.
The stranger made his way over to you, his eyes not wavering from yours.
“Hi,” he said when he was in front of you, like he was in a daze.
“Hi,” you said. “You… felt that too, right?”
He nodded. “I never knew what they meant… what it was supposed to feel like…” he trailed off, just staring at you. “I'm Adonis.”
You introduced yourself and didn't know what to do next. For centuries, you had dreamed of the day that you'd meet your mate. But secretly, you had been waiting for the bond to snap into place with Cassian. You hadn't thought about what you would do if it turned out to be a random stranger.
“Do you… want to go for a walk?” Adonis said, clearly equally unsure of what one was supposed to do upon meeting their mate.
You agreed. And just like that, you were getting to know your mate.
---
You found Rhys, Feyre, and Cassian all in Rhysand's study at the river house. They looked at you questioningly as you walked in.
“Are you okay?” Cassian asked, his voice soft, the way it always was when he was worried about you. “You look… weird.”
“I met my mate today,” you said quietly.
Feyre and Rhysand looked ecstatic. Cassian, though, went perfectly still, his skin turning slightly pale.
“What happened? Who is he?” Feyre asked, her eyes wide in excitement.
You shrugged, briefly explaining how you and Adonis met.
“What's he like?” Rhys asked. “Do you like him?”
“I think so?” You said, noticing how Cassian was still as a statue. “I don't know, it's weird. I feel this tug towards him but I don't know anything about him! I mean, he seems… nice.”
Cassian finally unfroze, to look incredulously at you. “Nice?” He repeated. “That's it? Your mate is nice?”
“We went on a walk and yes, he seems nice,” you blanched, feeling like you should defend your mate but not sure how.
Your friends just stared at you, clearly underwhelmed by your declaration.
“What do I do now?” You asked nobody in particular.
“You keep getting to know him,” Rhys said, lovingly wrapping an arm around Feyre. 
You glanced at Cassian, who suddenly seemed very interested in the carpet.
“Okay,” you said. 
Really, what else could you do?
---
Your relationship with Cassian had felt off ever since you and Adonis had started to get to know each other better.
He still trained you every day, but where he used to be bantering and joking around with you, he was now all business, keeping his physical distance from you. 
It was confusing, having to grapple with your ancient feelings for him and these new blooming ones for your mate. 
After a few weeks of weirdness, you finally snapped. “Did I do something to upset you?” You asked as both of you stretched after a particularly grueling workout.
“No,” he grunted. “Why?”
“You've been acting weird for weeks.”
He glanced at you, his eyes guarded. “No, I haven't.”
“Yes you have, Cass. You've barely talked to me,” you tried to hide the pain in your voice. You didn't want him to know how deeply this ran.
Cassian sighed, pausing his stretching to face you, look you in the eye. “You’re right, I'm sorry. I just… I'm sad, I guess. I've been your number one for centuries and now…” he pushed his hair out of his face. “Things are different now.”
You took a step toward him, your heart cracking. “Is that what you think? Cassian, no matter who my mate is, you'll always be my best friend. And… I could really use my best friend right now.”
Guilt clouded his expression. “I'm sorry. I've been a shitty friend,” he said quietly, moving forward and wrapping you in a tight bear hug. “Are you okay?”
Sighing with relief, leaning into his touch, you said, “I don't know. I'm really excited, obviously, that I finally found him. And I do like him. But I'm also… scared.”
He pulled back to look you in the eye. “Scared? Why?”
“What if he doesn't like me?” You asked quietly. You hadn't been able to voice your fears to anybody else. 
Cassian’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Why would you even think that? Who wouldn't like you?”
I can think of at least one person, you thought, but shoved it down.
You shrugged, not sure what to say.
He murmured your name, moving to gently hold your face in his hands. “He'd be insane to not like you. I mean it.”
Warmth spread through you at his touch, the softness in his voice. “Thanks, Cassian,” you murmured.
Cassian kissed your forehead, then pulled you back into a crushing hug. “Anytime.”
---
Your gut was a bundle of nerves as you met with Adonis again. The two of you had been getting to know each other for the last few weeks, and while you didn't yet feel an electric shock, you were thrilled to have found your mate.
When Adonis showed up though, your nerves only got worse. The look on his face could only mean that he was about to deliver bad news.
The two of you made your way through awkward small talk until he braced his forearms on the table in front of him, and you knew he was about to get down to business.
“So, look. I know we're mates, and I do feel that bond between us, but I can't help but think that maybe the Cauldron was wrong,” he said casually, as if he were telling you it was going to rain later.
Your heart completely plummeted. You tried to maintain your breathing, keep your voice even. “Why do you think that?”
“The attraction’s just not there,” he said matter of factly.
Mind spinning, you repeated, “the… attraction?”
He nodded, like it was obvious.
“You're saying, you think the Cauldron was wrong… because you're not attracted to me.”
“Yes! I'm so glad you get it,” he smiled.
You just looked at him incredulously. “You're serious?”
“Yes?” He raised his eyebrow in question.
“So, you're… you're rejecting the bond?”
“I think that would be best. Don't you?”
You narrowed your eyes, trying to keep your rising fury locked down. “With the way you're acting right now? Actually, yes, I do think it would be best. You're a terrible person,” you stated, determined to keep your tears from falling until you could make it home.
His eyes narrowed, glaring at you.
And right then, you felt it. Despite your anger, it was still painful to have the bond rejected. It felt like you were being torn apart from the inside out, ripping your very being to shreds.
You gripped the table, centuries of training your body and your mind was the only thing that kept you from crying out as the bond broke.
Adonis felt it too, you knew, because he had gone pale as a ghost, his body trembling slightly. 
When the pain had subsided enough, you pushed away from the table, walking home without a backwards glance.
---
You were supposed to meet Cassian for dinner at the House, but you couldn't bear it. You went to your own apartment instead, laying in your bed in the fetal position for what was probably hours, tears streaming down your cheeks until your head was pounding and your eyes were burning.
It was awful, this feeling. How could he be your mate? How could someone like that be who the Mother wanted you with?
Would you never be good enough for anyone? 
And now your hopes of finding a mate were gone forever. Everyone knew that you only got one chance, one mate.
Why did yours have to be so awful?
A knock on your door roused you from your spiraling thoughts.
You just groaned, knowing that Cassian could hear it.
The door opened and you heard his heavy footsteps as he found you in your bed.
He grimaced as soon as he saw the state of you, his eyes flooding with concern. Instantly he was by your side, kneeling in front of you, holding your hand. “What is it?” He asked, his voice soft despite the tautness of his body.
Your voice came out as barely more than a croak. “He rejected the bond.”
Cassian's rage was palpable, filling the room. “What?”
Ashamed, you hid your face in your pillows. You couldn't tell him why. Didn't have the words in you, and you didn't want him to know how much it hurt.
He swore under his breath, then crawled into bed with you, gingerly wrapping his arms around you, holding you close. You buried your face in his chest, breathed in the scent of him. It almost broke your heart even more, knowing he would never feel for you what you felt for him.
His fingers drew small, soothing circles on your back for a long moment until he broke the silence again. “What happened?” He said quietly.
It was a long time before you could answer. But you knew that if you could tell anyone in the world, it would be him. “He's not attracted to me,” you whispered.
Cassian's entire body tensed, his grip on you tightening. “He said that?” He said with lethal calm.
“He did,” you croaked as another tear slid down your cheek.
“I'm going to slaughter him,” he growled, his body trembling as he sat up, taking you with him. “I'm going to rip his skin off his bones--”
He had moved you so you were straddling him, your hands on his shoulders. “No, you won't,” you said gently.
“Why shouldn't I?” He spat, his eyes dark, his hands gripping your waist so hard, it would surely leave a bruise.
“It wouldn't solve anything,” you said sadly. 
Cassian buried his hand in the hair at the back of your head, forcing you to hold his gaze. “You listen to me. He is wrong. He is awful. You are so beautiful. You are so strong and kind and incredible. Do not let him get to you, okay? This is his loss, not yours,” he said, his eyes locked on yours, alight with so much emotion, your eyes welled with tears again.
He pursed his lips, his eyes softening as he pulled you into him again. You cried into his chest. “Why would the Mother do this to me? Why would she choose him?”
“I don't know,” he said sadly, running his hands through your hair gently. “I don't know. Maybe she made a mistake.”
You sniffed. “I don’t know what to do.” 
He kissed your head softly. “You lean on the people who love you. And then you try to move on.”
You cried even harder, and he held you and held you until your sobs diminished and you drifted off to sleep.
---
Cassian barely left your side in the following weeks, his hands always on you, comforting you. Even when he had to go to the Illyrian mountains, he brought you with him. 
It always did something to you, seeing him in command of all those soldiers. His face stern, his body rigid, barking orders at everyone. Despite all the awful things that had happened recently, it still made your toes curl in your boots. 
But even you could only brave the cold for so long to watch Cassian be in command, so you eventually wandered into Rhysand’s mother’s house, a roaring fire already ablaze when you arrived. 
You sat in front of it, warming your hands, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. 
Weeks after the disastrous meeting with your mate, you were finally starting to feel like yourself again, like other things in life mattered more than the jerk who hurt you.
It was mostly Cassian’s steady, comforting presence that had helped you return to yourself, his relentless insistence that you keep up with your training, that you don’t break your routine no matter how much your heart hurt. 
Cassian had been what was keeping you together for a long time, you realized. 
It was this thought that he interrupted, swinging the door open loudly, the snow billowing in behind him. After he had closed the door behind him, you heard his heavy footfalls stop dead in their tracks behind you.
You turned to look at him in confusion, and then you felt it. 
A bond snapped into place. 
A bond that somehow, after all this time, linked you to Cassian.
Your heart began pounding in your chest, your head spinning. “What--”
Before you could finish the thought, he was on top of you, pinning you to the ground, his lips on yours. You always forgot how quickly he could move, how he could be across the room in the blink of an eye with ease.
A moan sounded from you involuntarily as he cupped your cheek gently with his rough hand, his other on the floor next to your head, keeping some of his body weight off you so you wouldn’t be crushed. This seemed to spur him on even more, his tongue delving into your mouth immediately after you had opened your mouth to him. 
“I knew it,” he groaned, kissing your cheeks, your neck, “I knew it should’ve been me.” 
“Cassian,” you gasped, unable to process what was happening, what he just said--
He growled, kissing you again deeply, rocking his hips against yours.
You hated yourself for doing it, especially since you had been dreaming of this very moment for centuries, but you also needed a moment to think, to process. 
“Cassian, wait,” you said breathlessly, putting your hand on his chest. 
He halted immediately, pulling back to hover over you. “I’m sorry-”
“No, it’s okay,” you said, smiling to reassure him. He was breathing hard, his eyes locked on yours, trying to decipher if he had done something wrong, you knew. “I mean -- we should definitely continue that later, I just… I don’t understand.”
Cassian rose from on top of you, sitting up. You followed, sitting up to face him. “We’re mates,” he said with a soft smile, his eyes shining. “You and me,” he shook his head in disbelief. 
“I thought you could only have one mate? I thought that was it…” you trailed off, unable to form the words.
He shrugged, grinning. “I guess the Mother decided to give you another chance.”
All you could do was stare at him in disbelief. 
Cassian was actually your mate. Cassian.
His brow furrowed, his expression flooding with fear. “Are you upset?”
You couldn’t help but laugh. You gazed at him, at your beautiful, incredible mate. “Cassian, I’ve been in love with you for centuries. I’ve never been happier in my life.”
He made a choking sound. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
You bit your lip, pondering how much to tell him. He took your hand in his, scooching closer, hanging on your answer. Finally you leveled your gaze with his. “I don’t deserve you.”
His face contorted in anger then, a look that had never been directed at you before. “Why would you ever think that?”
Incredulously, you gestured to him. “Are you kidding? Look at you! You’re the commander of the Illyrian armies, they’ve literally written about your war tactics in the history books, you’re one of six people in centuries to actually reach Ramiel, you’re so kind and good and--”
Cassian’s lips were on yours before you could continue. “I love you,” he murmured against your lips. “I love you so much.” 
Your heart melted at his words and at his touch. After a few moments, he pulled back to look at you again. “Never say that you’re not good enough ever again. You’ve been in Rhysand's inner circle for centuries for a reason. How do you not see how incredible you are?” 
All you could get out was, “You love me?”
He laughed, the deep sound practically bouncing off the walls, before his expression softened, gazing at you lovingly. “Of course I love you. I was acting so weird after you met Adonis because I had never been so fucking jealous in my life,” he said quietly, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ve wished that you were mine for a long, long time.” 
You launched yourself at him and he was ready for you, wrapping his arms around you tightly as you kissed him. He laughed against your mouth, holding your body against his. 
Soon, you were completely tangled together, losing yourselves in each other.
Hours later, you were laying on the floor in front of the fire, your legs entwined together, your head on Cassian's chest, his arms around you. 
“After all this time,” you murmured, lost in the memories of all your lonely nights, now knowing that Cassian had felt the same way you did.
He kissed the top of your head. “I'm just glad the Mother finally helped us get together,” he chuckled.
“Me too,” you agreed. “We owe her a lot.”
“We owe her everything,” he said quietly, leaning in to kiss you again. 
You snuggled closer into him, relishing the thought that you would never again be alone.
@loving-and-dreaming @birdsflyhome @hanuh @sheblogs @iambored24601 @thalia-as-blog @evergreenlark @ecliphttlunar
238 notes · View notes
oneforthemunny · 3 days
Note
YAY MY FIRST TIME DOING THIS GAME!!!
Rockstar!eddie, rehab, angst (because I have been think of this concept all day)
starting the day off strong with some angst! tw bc it does mention drug abuse and some darker kinda themes.
"Eddie Munson," Eddie looked up from the guitar he'd been strumming towards the nurse- no, the holistic helper at the door. They didn't use words like that here, not at this rehab.
"You have a visitor here." She nodded, giving a soft smile.
Eddie set the guitar down, tucking the pick back between the strings, following the woman down the long hallway of the center. The music room was where he spent most of his time these days. He'd tried hiking and the spa once he'd finished detox, but always came back there- his own oasis in his own personal hell.
"We're going to go back to your room for this meeting, if that's alright with you, Eddie." The nurse smiled gently.
"Fine with me." Eddie grumbled, his shoulders feeling heavier and heavier with each passing step.
Ninety days, it's what he agreed to. He felt better after twenty, but he'd finish it out- for you, for your girls, his family that he'd fucked selfishly. His stomach turned at the thought.
"And, there's no limit on this visit today." The nurse stopped before she opened the door. "So no need to feel pressured to rush."
Eddie's brows furrowed. It was Gareth, maybe Jeff, he knew it was. They were the only ones who came to visit him anyways. Still, he grumbled in response, turning the knob to his room. It was nice, a private suite that felt more like a hotel room than the prison cell it'd become.
"Hey, man, didn't know you were coming by today. I've been working on some stuf-" Eddie's breath hitched, falling flat in the air when he turned.
It felt nearly like a mirage, like he might have been dreaming, hallucinating that you were here. Here, on his bed, sitting too rigidly to be comfortable, arms wrapped around yourself.
"Working on stuff?" You hummed, eyes barely meeting his and he didn't miss the way you swallowed. "What kind of stuff?"
"Y-You're here?" Eddie croaked, shutting the door with a harsh snap. "Wha-What are you doin' here, baby?" Every bit of his being screamed to hug you, hands tingling and twitching- itching to feel you, to hold you.
You shifted uncomfortably, finger running over your ring finger out of habit. Eddie nearly threw up when he saw you'd gone without your ring, he wondered how long ago you'd stopped wearing it.
"Um, Gareth came by the other day to see the girls." Your eyes cut to Eddie at the mention of them, how his face nearly crumbled at the thought. "He told me you'd been doing much better. Told me you were scared straight."
"Yeah." Eddie nodded. He was frozen, unable to move, so he stood in the doorway. "I am. I-I..." There was a million things Eddie wanted to say. He wanted to drop to his knees, beg for your forgiveness, for mercy, for anything.
"He," Your voice cracked, turning your head politely to the side to compose yourself. So prim and proper, Eddie's heart leapt at the action- he'd missed it so fucking much.
"He also brought me your letter." Your lip wobbled at the mention, pressing them tightly together to keep yourself from bursting into tears. Ten pages, front to back, with scribbling, tear soaked, inked ramblings about his feelings- poured his heart out onto those pages. Everything he'd ever wanted to say in his entire life, there on those pages, his whole bleeding heart.
"He did." Eddie sounded relieved, shoulders slumping, rounding with the weight of everything he'd kept in for so long.
You nodded slowly, watching him carefully from your own perch. "The girls made you some things." Your voice shook with your hands when you reached in your bag, piles of drawing and scribbles they'd made for Eddie.
Eddie looked at the colorful papers, just a glimpse in your hand, choking on a sob that was tearing mercilessly through his chest. "I, um, I didn't bring them today." You barely met Eddie's eyes, hand smoothing over the construction paper. "I didn't think you'd want them to see you like this."
"No," Eddie shook his head, tears falling down his stubbled cheeks. "No, I-I don't. Thank you."
The air was thick between the two of you, an unsure uncomfortable feeling that left you both on ease. Eddie finally sobbed when your hand brushed his, passing the drawings to him.
"I'm-I'm so sorry." Eddie broke, teeth gritted, trying to swallow back his own cries, hand holding yours tightly. "I don't-I don't know why I-I fucking did that. Why I did it to you, a-and to the girls, and fuck- I don't know why-" Eddie's sobs choked his words.
You knew you shouldn't have, that you should have stood strong, colder and meaner. Your mind screamed at you to stop, but you couldn't- not when your own heart was shattering all over again. So you held him, arms wrapped around his torso, body moving towards his in that familiar way. Your puzzle piece, you two fit so well. His arms hugging you tightly, nearly crushing you into his chest like he wanted you to fuse to him. Eddie's face pressed to your head, wetting your scalp with his tears, nose rubbing into your skin babbling apologies over and over again, promises that he would keep, that you hoped he would.
192 notes · View notes
lowkeyremi · 3 days
Text
Choso who went into battle not knowing if he'd ever see you again. You knew this as well as he did, but he didn't want you to worry so he tried to comfort your mind.
"When I get back you gotta make me one of those cakes with the strawberries in it. I'll be thinking about it the whole time." He's hugging you, your head resting on his chest, tears from your leaky eyes stain his shirt.
"Don't go." Is all you can say. For some reason your heart is telling you that this is the last time you'll ever see your husband. This isn't just an assumption either, it's a very, very strong feeling inside of you.
"Baby. You know I have to.." His cold hands rub up and down your back, the coldness reminds of you of death.
"But.. what if this is our last time together?" He freezes completely, even his breath stops for a few seconds.
"I promise you, honey, this will not be our last time together." Choso leans down to meet your lips in a kiss, this kiss held so much slow, raw emotion. His hands caressed the back of your head and you felt more tears roll down your face.
"Choso! We gotta get goin'!" Yuki says tapping her foot impatiently. You have nothing against Yuki, but at that moment so much hate builds up inside of you- she's trying to take him away from you. She's trying to bring him closer to death.
"Choso please..." It's desperate and whiny, your voice cracks upon the last syllable. He gives you one last tight squeeze before muttering a, "I'll see you later baby."
The worst part about the departure is he doesn't look back, but you don't blame him. If he had looked back at your weepy eyes, he probably would have stayed instead of fighting for Japan.
Over the months of his absence you grow bitter, hateful, and quiet. Rarely do you talk anymore so when you hear your own voice it sounds foreign. Even your closest friends can't bring you out of the house without you bursting into tears, because the same door you walk out of is the same door he left out of.
"[name] you have to get out of here, you're going to spiral sooner or later," Your best friend mutters for the nth time.
"I'M NOT LEAVING! THIS IS ALL I HAVE LEFT!" You scream out. Regret instantly washes over you. "I'm-"
"I know you're hurting, don't worry about it." They say in a calming manner.
"I just- it's been two weeks since he's called me. Two. Weeks." Your best friend joins you on your couch, the same couch you and your husband have had many movie nights on.
"I know you're worried, [name]. About him, about your future, about everything... and I'm not going to tell you to be optimistic about the whole thing because it's 50/50 but I do want you to stay strong. It's what your husband would want, right?" They're right, if Choso were here he would tell you to push through and stay strong like you always do.
"Okay- fuck- alright. I'll go put some different clothes, let's get out of here. I haven't left in a long time."
The call came a month later. It was Yaga, he didn't sugar coat it, not that you wanted him to anyway.
"I'm sorry for your loss." It hurts when you hear those words being said to you over the phone. Your ears get a fuzzy feeling your vision blurs, and you start to hyperventilate.
"[name]? [name] are you there?" Everything went dark after that.
Trying to cope was the worst part of it all. Yaga had called you a couple of weeks later saying his body was so mutilated that they couldn't bring it back to bury him properly.
Now, you truly have nothing left, well, technically you have all the things he's given to you over the years, but you don't have him.
You went to therapy, you went to stay with your family, none of it worked. All you could think about was the last time he held you, his body was warm but his hands were cold to the touch.
As much as it hurts, your therapist has suggested moving out of your house because your pain is still raw and being in the house will bring up painful memories. Of course you refuse, why is everyone trying to take away what you have left of your husband?
In your bed was a picture of Choso, one you'd always keep with you when you missed him horribly. As you lie down for the night, you hug the picture tightly while tears silently fall from your eyes. At this point you don't even make sound anymore when you cry, it's just tears.
Ultimately, Yuji was the one to help you start your healing process. When everything had faded he came back, in rough shape might you add, but at least he was back. Instead of going to see all his friends when he returns, he goes to see you.
When he knocks on your door you assume it's your friends or a family member coming to get you out of the house. Seeing Yuji at your front door was very unexpected on your part. Before you can even get a sentence out he's squeezing you in a bone crushing hug.
"Choso told me to give you a hug for him. It was the last thing he asked for." His softly spoken words meet your ears. Almost immediately you squeezed Yuji tighter, "Thank you ,Yuji..."
"I know that you've known him longer than I have but.." he pauses, "his death hurt me just as much, and shit- I'm not gonna lie and say everything will be okay or everything will go back to normal, but I will say that he wants us to continue on even when it's rough."
Yuji's words sink into your brain and your first thought is selfish 'he wouldn't want me to keep going without him'. After a few seconds of rethinking you agree with Yuji, Choso was a fighter and he pressed on for what he believed, and yes, he would want you and his brother to do the same.
364 notes · View notes
goldengirliez · 3 days
Text
TIPSY MIKEY. We all stan a cute, tipsy Mikey.
Tumblr media
09:53 pm
Nighttime is the most amazing part of the day. You can give yourself the attention you deserve, taking care of yourself, watching your favourite show, preparing a nourishing meal... All of this after the frenzy of the day, the heat of the city, the infinite traffic jams, and the overwhelmingness of your daily job.
Once you get your favourite shirt covering you up, you can't help but sigh contently, letting the perfume of the clothing fill your nostrils, the softness of the cotton fabric gently caressing your skin and the white colour of the tissue soothes your tired eyes.
His shirts are always your anchor after a long day when you haven't been able to meet. After a whole week you and your boyfriend, Mikey, haven't been able to meet because of his busy schedule due to an upcoming race and you being buried deep down the pit of work and hectic everyday life.
Just when you're about to get into the covers and call it a day, some motherfucker dares to ring the bell of your apartment, knocking at your door mercilessly. It's almost 10 pm, who could it possibly be?!
Stomping your feet towards the door of your apartment, you rub your eyes in a pissed manner, the lotion you put on your face earlier slightly oiling the tip of your fingers. When you open the door with a frustrated sigh, your eyes go from annoyed to surprised in less than two seconds. You surely didn't expect to find Draken, Mikey's best friend since the old days and a member of his racing team, looking at you apologetically while holding your boyfriend on his back, piggyback style.
You don't question him, despite wanting to do so, and let the beefy man in. He drops Mikey on your couch and he yelps, whining a slurred and slightly annoyed "Ken-chinnnnn".
You and Draken share a look that says it all: he was drunk, dead-drunk, cockeyed.
"A week is left before the big day, everyone wanted to meet up before having to go all in until the race day" Drake sighs and scratches the back of his head.
You have never seen him so shy, he must be quite tipsy too but you decide not to point that out, showing mercy for his virility.
"I'm sorry about this- he kept on blabbering about how much he missed you so I thought this was the best thing to do".
Of course, it is. Mikey's addicted to you. He loves you so much and every time he can't meet you even for a short period, not being able to hold you close and pepper your face in kisses, he loses it and does stupid things like... Getting drunk with his friends.
You can feel a sudden weight on your shoulder, strong arms wrapping around your waist like a snake and a stinging smell of mixed alcohol make its way through your senses.
Mikey's cheek is squished against your shoulder and he looks at you with big, doe onyx orbs and sweet, plump pouty lips.
His obsidian hair is a bit messy, and his cheek is slightly rosy due to his tipsiness.
You could devour him. He looks so adorable.
"Babyyy, is this really you? Fuck– I've missed you so much" winey voice and teary eyes. He always acts like a child whenever he's drunk and that never fails to put your heart in danger because of cuteness overload.
"You did great Draken, I'll take care of him, thank you for bringing him here" you smile at your boyfriend's best mate and motion him to go before Mikey throws off a tantrum on how much he had missed you and how you should have answered to his messages more often.
Just when he gets out you sigh and look at your boyfriend who's snuggling against you (probably because he's not even capable of standing still by himself), caressing your warm skin with the tip of his nose.
“Why haven't you answered any of my calls today, baby?”
It is surprising how his voice rings in your years, shaking your very core: his slurred and childish words from before have been completely replaced by a deep, low and shy whisper. He sounds pained.
You can feel the warmth of his muscles flex on your abdomen as he brings you closer to him until your back is touching his toned chest. His heart is thrumming against his ribcage, you can feel it.
“Can't focus on anything without hearing from you for so long… I get worried too, ya know?”
Your Manjiro has always been this way, whenever he got tipsy, he would always become more clingy, whinier and vulnerable.
Despite this, his charm is undeniable and you can't help but pend from his lips when his words flow effortlessly like the smoothest cream. Listening to him and absorbing his body heat is like indulging in the sweetest thing you might ever taste.
He doesn't do it on purpose, such antics become natural when he's with you: your magnecticity touches every cell of his body and makes it act on its own, getting on the right frequency just because you are there.
You're everything he needs and all he has always had.
You can't blame him for behaving like this, like the lovestruck man he is.
“I’m so sorry, ‘jiro, I've been busy… but I'll make it up to you, okay?”
His body weight leans more towards you as he mutters a slurred ‘you better'. Despite wanting to sound pissed, the smile on his face is clear as day even if his face is hidden in the curve on your neck. His satisfied tone betrays him: maybe wearing one of his shirts was a start to make up for the lost time already.
Tumblr media
As your hand smoothes over his liquorice locks you can feel a damp, hot sensation on your neck: his hot breath reaches your skin as he kisses it in both relief and contentment, exciting your nostrils with a pungent hint of alcohol.
Once your hands make contact with his back in a fluid, circular motion, you can feel Mikey's muscles tense and melt in your hold in less than a few seconds: you prepared him a warm bath to help him ease up his paranoia about “you avoiding him” and wash off that nauseous smell of liquor that was making you sick.
The water ripples underneath his body, circular little waves expand and dissolve among the warm water whenever he moves.
Letting the fragrance of the oils and the body wash hug his senses, filling his thoughts with your gentle hand scratching his scalp deliciously with the tip of your fingers and your idyllic voice that echoes through the bathroom walls he feels at peace.
He breathes in deeply every time, his toned chest rises and falls at a slow pace and the droplets of water kiss every inch of the skin for you, sliding down his muscles deliciously.
With his eyes gently closed and his silky, obsidian hair sticking to his forehead slightly, he looks like a greek god, just for you to be blessed with.
You can't help but sigh happily as his consciousness clears up with every passing minute: he starts to make more coherent sentences, talking to you about his week and complaining about his team that put his life in such a hectic frenzy for the upcoming race that he hardly had time to check up on you.
“The only way I thought I could see you was by taking advantage of this dinner: I mean, no one wants to deal with a drunk, complaining pain the ass before the race, yeah? They had to let me come here, I'm a genius!”
You love him for that.
Tumblr media
The soft thuds that jog up the stairs are unmistakable: as Mikey reaches your room and opens the door, you are already waiting for him in the bed, keeping the sheets warm for him, and making a comforting nest for his arrival.
He insisted that you wait for him upstairs as he brushed his teeth and dressed up, claiming that he wasn't that tipsy to be looked out for like the big baby he is.
Let's give him credit for that, he was right.
His face seems to be sparking under the warm light of your abatjour, the freshness of his body reaches your nose more and more as he walks closer to the bed, inching towards your face so you can breathe in and taste the minty scent of his mouth onto yours with a sloppy kiss.
When your hand guides its way on his collarbone, tickling his damp skin with your palm, he wastes no time hovering over your frame completely and crushing his weight on top of you, making the soft mattress sink lower underneath your bodies.
Even if Mikey has always had a quite smaller frame compared to other guys, he never fails to knock the breath off your lungs when he catches you by surprise. He might have a thing for that small puff of air that leaves your chest unexpectedly, making you yelp in such a delightful tone… but he would never admit that out loud. Where would the fun be otherwise?
Snuggling against your body, you can feel the tip of his nose playfully rub against your cheek as he kisses your jaw with a small movement of his mouth, the softest flower petals caressing your tender skin graciously.
Useless to say that you'll sleep in that position for the whole night and you have no room to argue, not when your man starts to mindlessly mumble sweet nonsense under his breath and ask questions about your week until late that night.
Mikey's head is still a bit fuzzy, his senses don't connect down on earth fully due to the fragmentary memories of the embarrassing, confused events that happened that night tormenting his subconscious, but he doesn't care: as long as your voice lulls him to sleep, all his repressed pre-race anxieties melt away; every fear of having missed out on a big event of your life that week dissolves into thin air; every inch of the emptiness that your absence brought fills up gradually, leaving him giddy inside.
He doesn't deny it, Manjiro admits that he can be whiney, childish and reckless (idiotic actually): getting drunk and causing a scene at the restaurant, screaming at the waiter because he didn't receive a flag on his entrecôte and spilling the carafe of wine on the white table cloth in front of the team before falling from the chair wasn’t the best idea to get him to your house, especially since he's an emergent public figure in the motorcycle racing industry.
But, honestly, that's all worth it if he gets to spend time with you once again, babying him the way he deserves.
Tumblr media
English isn't my first language so I apologise for any mistakes!
This has been in my drafts for way too long, so I decided to finish it– I'm not that proud of the outcome but I hope it brought a smile on your face regardless!
Tumblr media
Sending y'all hugs. ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ꒰ঌ ♡ ໒꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖
©GOLDENGIRLIEZ do not repost or modify on any platform.
190 notes · View notes
saturnville · 2 days
Text
do you want to, l. hamilton
pairing: he (lewis hamilton) x black best friend oc (anvika dawson) content: in which two friends cross a line people have been waiting for them to cross...and it works out. warning: 18+ content, angst, fluff, heavy dialogue song: do you want to by xscape an: part one here. part two here. their story is complete. thank you for reading <3 tags: @boujiestpoet @mauvecherie-writes @saintslewis @greedyjudge2 @vile-harlot @emjayewrites @ggaslyp1 @neeville
Tumblr media
They hadn’t spoken in over a month. A bridge seemed to find its way between them. Not finding their way back to one another was unlike them. Most disagreements lasted at most three days. But, for there to have been 30 days of silence had her questioning if they’d come back from what they went through. 
But, after a much-needed therapy session, a cry session with Onyx, and deep reflection, Anvika realized that space was the best thing she could give him. She was challenged to put herself in his shoes and that changed her perspective entirely. 
“I want you to think from his perspective, Anvika,” her therapist began. She was an older Black woman with rich skin and silver hair. Her eyes were like honey and her voice was warm like the hug of an old church mother. “If you had feelings for him, right, whether you admitted them or not, and there came a time where the dam that contained all the feelings, emotions, thoughts, what have you, had broken and he was willing to drown in it all, just to turn around and downplay what occurred not even 12 hours later, how would you feel?” 
Ouch. Having it repeated to her without bias struck her uncomfortably. Anvika twisted her lips as she pondered long and hard. How would she feel? Rejected? Embarrassed? Used? Maybe all of the above. 
“What are you thinking about?” her therapist, Traci, asked. “And it doesn’t have to come out perfect or sound. Say how you feel.” 
Suddenly, her chest heaved as her breaths grew deeper. Her tongue circled her teeth and her eyes welled with tears. “I love him. I always have, in one way or another. But, I cherish what we’ve got and I just don’t—“ she sighed deeply. “I’m afraid for it to be ruined and I lose another man that I love.” 
Traci hummed. “So, you love him. Always have, you’ve built a good friendship with him, which could be a solid foundation for a potential romantic relationship, which he seemingly wants, but you’re afraid that it would go wrong and you’d lose him. What else are you afraid of?” 
“Just…that I won’t be more than a body to keep his bed warm. That’s why my ex and I split. Sure, we were together, but he was more invested in sex than he was in cultivating and strengthening our relationship. Intimacy is important, but only being desired for your body does something to a girl. I don’t want that…and so I’m afraid of being nothing more than a warm body. And now I’m upset because I teetered on my boundaries which were no sex with anyone that wasn’t my significant other. I don’t have a significant other, Traci. I have a best friend…or had.” 
Anvika’s voice shook as she spoke. She fiddled with the necklaces stacked around her neck. 3 gold necklaces—Queen Nefertiti, a heart, and the number 44. Traci’s eyes followed her hands. “What’s 44 stand for?” 
Anvika’s hands stalled. Her voice was quiet: “It’s his racing number. He races today.”
“You wear it often?” 
Anvika nodded. 
“Why?” Traci pressed, pushing her glasses above her head. 
“It helps me feel close to him when he’s away. He’s always away.” 
Another hum came from Traci. “Does he wear anything that represents you?” 
It was small. A simple word on his neck was often hidden by his braided hair. Completion. The definition of her name. He’d gotten it a year prior and never told her until she was helping him take his braids down and noticed the fresh ink there. Her heart grew three sizes that day. 
Anvika swallowed thickly. “My name means strong and complete. He has completion tattooed on his neck.”
Traci chuckled in amusement. Breakthrough was happening. 
“Sounds to me that the relationship the two of you have goes deeper than you’d like to admit. You shouldn’t beat yourself over the night you shared with him. We all have moments where we teeter-totter. And even though you didn’t want to, you did. But not only did you do it, you did it with a man who cherishes you, who honors you, who respects you. He is still your closest friend, but who is to say that your lover shouldn’t first be your friend? The choice is yours and I will walk with you through whatever decision you make. Just take the time to think about it, Anvika.” 
She’d thought about it every day since. 
+
Misery wasn’t a state he found himself in often, let alone one that he allowed himself to bask in. He was a firm believer in not allowing his circumstances to permanently alter his mood; his actions proved that he wasn’t the believer he thought he was. 
His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. His words were more limited than usual. His animations were not quite animated. He was going through the motions day by day, a boring routine that grew exhausting. He was better than this and he knew it. But, his usual methods of taking a run, spending time with loved ones, and giving in to his sweet tooth didn’t help. If anything, they made him feel worse. All because they were activities they did together. It seemed as though his entire life was attached to her and it drove him mad. 
He didn’t think there’d be a day where his mood would be affected by his disconnect from her. And it manifested physically. Lewis was tired often, which was a symptom of the fast-paced lifestyle, but for it to show in his eyes and the slowness of his movements was a clear indication that he was not okay. 
Lewis sighed into his pillow as his phone dinged once again. If he could throw it away, he would. His eyes glanced at the screen. Ani. The fourth message he’d received from her and the fourth time he wouldn’t reply. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t have much to say.
You raced well, it read. I hope you’re doing well…I hope we cross paths again when you’re ready. 
He grappled with responding. His heart yearned to speak with her but his mind overpowered his ability to pick up the phone. What would he respond with? Thanks, not ready to see you because you hurt my heart and made me feel rejected. Talk soon. He’d be damned. 
He did a double-take after a moment. You raced well. She watched? His heart twisted. She attended every race she could, amid screaming fans jumping for joy. He could still hear her strained voice chanting his name when he walked on the track. 
“Lewis!” 
His conversation with the gentleman ahead of him was stopped. The racer apologized graciously and turned to see Anvika at the top of the bleachers waving excitedly. It was her first international race and she was over the moon to be there. He chuckled and beckoned her down. 
She shuffled through the bleachers and was soon guided by a security guard to where he stood. She smiled widely. “So, how do you feel?” Her hands grabbed his own and squeezed. She was about to burst. 
“I feel good,” he said with a smile. “How do you feel?” 
“I’m so excited! I hardly ever leave the country unless it’s for business, so to be here and supporting you--so exciting!” The small bounce she did had the jewelry around her neck bobbing. His eyes dropped to her exposed collarbone--Nefertiti, a gold heart, and the number 44. Bright and shiny like it was brand new. His eyebrow raised. “That new?” His finger curled around the chain, tugging softly. The action had her stumbling toward him. 
“Oh, this?” she quipped. “Yeah. I’m not too much of a jersey girl but I couldn’t come without repping you at all. My hat’s up there with Onyx.” She pointed to the bleachers. She hoped it didn’t get swiped--she made him sign it. 
The smile on his face matched hers. For them to have been friends, she cared for him in ways that would have people assuming otherwise. Wearing someone’s name or number around your neck, closest to your heart, spoke volumes. And she’d chosen to do it for him. The honor he felt was immense. Lewis wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pressed his lips against her forehead. “You, my love, are a gem.” 
“Jeez,” he huffed as he buried his head further into the pillow. Soon, his pillow was wet with tears. He hated to admit how much he missed her. How much he craved hearing her laugh, seeing her smile, or feeling the weight of her when she’d fall asleep on his shoulder. He missed her. 
+
They crossed paths the following Monday after the Met Gala. Lewis was waiting in a lobby for his car to arrive when he heard her call his name in hopes he’d respond. It was an awkward reunion. Neither party knew what to say or what to do. Anvika was surprised he’d spoken to her and Lewis was gobsmacked at her beauty. 
“You look beautiful,” he said after some time.
She always claimed red wasn’t her color, but she proved herself wrong and proved himself right. Her dress was much different than what she normally went for and it only emphasized the impact she made once she hit the carpet. The scarlet red complimented the richness of her complexion beautifully and the rose-like details were stunning. And her heels were like liquid gold on her feet. She’d done her hair differently as well. Her dark brown hair was pressed and in an intricate updo that showcased her ethereal features from her dark eyebrows to her round lips. Anvika Dawson was a gem. 
Anvika smiled small, feeling flustered under his intense gaze. Her hands smoothed the material of her dress. “Thank you. You do, too.” And she meant it. He was an ethereal being. She often wondered if he was real. Her fingers clawed at her dress as she fought the urge to run her fingers cross his shoulder. 
He was dressed to the nines and in her opinion, had been the best dressed gentleman there. She always adored him in black. It made him look powerful and like the king of the room. And his skin, rich and golden, glowed beneath the ambient lights. 
Silence covered the two of them like a thin blanket--uncomfortable. Lewis couldn’t remember a time when he was uncomfortable in her presence…until now. Moments later, his security detail let him know the car was present. He prepared to bid his farewells but was stopped by Anvika’s hand on his arm. 
“Wait…are you staying at the hotel with the…” In a nervous ramble, she went on and on describing the luxurious building she was put in on behalf of her agency. It was 22 stories tall with the most beautiful lights surrounding the entryway, a maroon carpet leading into the foyer, and a surplus of botanical plants that made her feel as though she was walking through a palace. Lewis, amused by her nervous tangent, nodded.
Anvika’s eyes lit up with hope. “Will you…if you’re up to it…will you stop by, please? I-I’m on the 14th floor, room 44. Will you please just,” she sighed deeply and tore her eyes from his just momentarily, “I miss you, Lewis. And…”
And there it was. He stammered slightly and suddenly felt small under her hopeful gaze. He missed her too. He nodded once more. Anvika released the breath she had no clue she held and assured him she’d be there whenever he decided to come, just to let her know. Before he was whisked away by security, he heard her voice in his ears once again, “Thank you.”
+
Anvika’s feet nearly burned holes in the floor as she paced around her suite. Her thumb was in her mouth, a chewtoy for her nerves. Her eyes cut toward the small wall clock near the bathroom. He said he’d arrive within an hour. Two minutes late. Would he show up? Her heart was a snare drum in her chest as she contemplated her emotions. 
“Calm down,” she ordered herself, though it came out muffled as her teeth drug down the side of her thumb, pulling a tag of sensitive skin with it. She winced when she tugged too hard. “Dammit.” 
Then, there was a soft knock. Her head shot up and a gasp came from her. He came. Anvika frantically patted her hair, hoping that her bun didn’t look awful, and sped over to the suite door. She took a deep breath before pulling it open. She smiled small, “Hi.” She moved out of the way to welcome his presence. 
Falling into natural order, Lewis made his way toward the couch in the living area of the suite. He sat off to the side, nearest the right arm of the couch with his hands in his lap. She sat at the opposite end with her knees toward inward, brushing against his gently. His eyes were glued to the floor. The tenseness made her uneasy. 
She cleared her throat awkwardly and played with the loose strings at the cuff of her (his) oversized sweatshirt. “I had a therapy session not too long after everything happened,” she began. Her admission made him look at her. His eyes, once so full of life and love, were just as dull as the walls surrounding them. “We had what they call a breakthrough. You know, finally getting to the root cause of why we think, act, and speak the way we do. And it was humbling, to say the least…to realize that I hurt you in a way I never thought I was capable of.” 
She chuckled breathlessly but nothing was funny. Her tongue circled her teeth, a nervous habit, as she fought to keep the tears at bay. Lewis’ eyes, prickling slowly, stayed on her. 
“You left. And that hurt me. But you left because I hurt you. That hurt even more. And I am so sorry. You’ve been nothing but good to me and I let my own fears and insecurities cloud my judgment. I was so focused on not screwing up our friendship that I managed to do it anyway because I was neglecting how you’d feel, too.” 
He listened intently. So, she continued, “You asked what I was scared of. I never gave you a clear answer, not because I didn’t know, but because I didn’t want to be honest with you. And simply put, the idea of not only loving another man but losing another man that I love scares me. You already know I was in that messed up situation where I was nothing more than a trophy and a warm body. I didn’t want to be that for any man again. I swore I would never be that for any man again.”
Lewis’ eyes softened and for the first time since they sat down, he spoke, “You know you’re much more than that.” His hand then found its way to her thigh, caressing it softly. 
Anvika gave a closed-lipped smile. “And, um…I was upset because I had these strict boundaries, you know, no significant other means no type of intimate activity, right? I crossed that line with you and I beat myself up over it. In my head, I totally rejected this order I placed on myself and just felt internally guilty because at the time, I thought that was the beginning of experiencing heartache again. That manifested into a fear of ruining our friendship because we’d never crossed a line like that before. We went from friends to lovers in the span of 12 hours, and Lewis, that was a crazy shift.
“You always hear stories about people trying the relationship thing with their friends and they end up never speaking again. You mean too much to me for us to never speak again, so when I say I was miserable, that’s what I mean, especially because I put us in this position. None of this excuses what I did, but it was time to finally be honest. I’m sorry.” 
Silence. She hated silence. Especially when it was uncomfortable. He still hadn’t said anything but she saw the wheels turning in his head. She watched as his eyes darted from left to right, a sign that he was running through a series of logical thoughts--a million a minute. She waited patiently for his response. 
“I felt rejected,” he said softly. “Like I was good for that moment where you let loose but then after that…” 
Anvika sighed heavily. The  conversation was going deeper than she anticipated. 
Lewis dropped his hand from her thigh and brought it to his face, rubbing softly. “When you care for someone all you want to do is be there for them. To be someone that gives them the love, honor, and respect they deserve. I’ve seen how these situations have broken you down and ruined your self-esteem and trust in men, and yet, deep down even while simply being a friend, all I wanted to do was love you and show you differently. So when that happened…what I thought was placed in my grasp was taken just as quickly as it was given. And I would think, is the thought of being with me that bad? That does something to a person, Ani.” 
There was a strain in voice as he asked her what he’d been thinking for weeks. Her confessions gave more insight on why she acted the way she did, but just as she said, it didn’t change the fact that he was hurting. But, to lay his heart on the table the way he wanted with her awaiting ears was relieving. Maybe they would get somewhere.
“I know, darling, and I am sorry,” she said quickly between his words, but quickly retreated so he could continue. “Keep going…” 
“I can’t make you love me the way I love you, I can’t make you mean it in the way that I do, and I can’t make you want something more with me,” he said truthfully though the thought pained him. “So if friends is what keeps you in my life then--”
“I want to try,” Anvika cut him off. His eyes cut to her. His heart began to pound in his chest. “I was told that your lover should be your friend. I’ve experienced you as my friend for six years and I’m starting to understand that it’s okay for those lines to blur, but I only want that with you. If you’ll still have me.” Though her words ceased, her eyes, filled with tears, pleaded with him. Lewis exhaled.
You, my love, are a gem.
+
At that moment, Anvika understood why people made love often. She wasn’t a very sexual person, opting for other forms of intimacy to deepen her relationship with her partner. But when it came to Lewis, she knew he would have her addicted and yearning for more. 
He was so attentive to the needs of her body and gentle in executing them. He was patient, knowing he was the first man she’d been with in four years and that alone made her desire for him grow greater. 
Each graze of his lips against her jaw, sensual caress of her chest, and deep thrust had her singing his name. It was the sweetest song he’d heard. 
Lewis made love to her slowly, just as she requested. 
“Can you go slow, please?” Her voice was hardly above a whisper. 
“Whatever you want, baby.”
He was used to things moving fast, but he was willing to slow down as much as necessary. Plus, it gave him the opportunity to take in every face she made as he dug deep into her. 
Anvika was pressed against him, her legs trembling around his waist as he guided her movements. Her head was thrown back as she succumbed to the pleasure she’d been without for so long. Her jaw hung as a string of profanities fell. Lewis couldn’t help but chuckle. “Feel good, baby?” 
Anvika let out a breathy whine as her body grew warmer and warmer. The whine turned into a sharp gasp when Lewis’ tattooed hand slithered around her neck and squeezed. “Lewis.” His action made her jerk against him. 
“I asked you a question, beloved,” he whispered against her jaw, peppering kisses along her damp skin. 
Anvika nodded, “Yes! So good.” Lewis turned her head and brought his mouth to hers—a heated exchange of moans and passion transferred from one to another. “I love you.” The words fell from her lips as she reached her peak.
To be loved. Against her skin, he whispered back, “I love you.”
+
The water felt amazing against her skin as she stood beneath the rainfall-like water head. It soaked her once pressed hair, causing it to shrink and revert to its natural state. When Anvika wiped the water from her race, she saw Lewis staring at her, eyes full of love with hints of lust.
“What?” she asked innocently, welcoming the forthcoming feeling of his hands at her hips. 
“You’re pretty,” he said simply. He swirled a strand of her hair around his finger and watched as it recoiled. Her big eyes followed his movement. “Very pretty.”
Anvika smiled like a school-girl who found out her crush liked her back. “You are, too.” She pecked his lips and prepared to turn toward the water again but was halted by Lewis pressing her against the wall, hiking her leg up, and capturing her lips in a soul-snatching kiss. 
She whimpered and tossed her arms around his shoulders. His hand slid between them, his fingers dancing along her most sensitive place, working her up. “Can I?” His arousal nudged her thigh, desperate to get a release in her warmth. 
“Yes…”
+
They ordered takeout and ate comfortably on her bed whilst Sex in the City played on the television in the background. They were bare as the day they were born, but it didn’t spark the same excitement as it did just hours before. It felt natural and domestic. 
Anvika sat on his lap, eyes fixed on the television screen as he fed her their shared vegan pasta. The sounds of her heavy chewing made him laugh. “Is it good?” She hummed.
“You’re the only person that could convince me to eat vegan food.”
Lewis shrugged with a lazy smile, claiming for himself what she did not take off the fork. “Because I’m magical.” 
Anvika giggled and nodded, pressing her lips against his. “You are, darling, and I love you because of it.” 
Lewis wouldn’t get used to hearing that. What scared her before came so naturally in the moment and he was so thankful that it did. He finally got what he wanted and he’d never let her go. 
He smiled and it finally reached his eyes, “I love you more.”
And it was so.
173 notes · View notes
astrosamara · 2 days
Text
Astrology Observations #2
Tumblr media
🩵Mutable risings are constantly changing up their looks because they love experimenting with different aesthetics, whereas fixed risings tend to stick with the same look or a couple of looks throughout their life. They're not as comfortable with outward change.
🩵Mars in the 1st house makes someone a natural athlete and can excel in sports. Also a great placement for dancers.
🩵Saturn in the 1st house and/or Capricorn/Aquarius Rising age like fine wine. They often tend to be late bloomers as well who can feel awkward and uncomfortable with themselves in their early years, but start to grow more into their confidence later in life, specifically after their first Saturn return.
🩵Gemini Venus are so playful and flirty in their relationships. Humor and lightheartedness have to be prominent for them in their relationships to feel loved.
🩵Sun (the father) or Moon (the mother) in the 12th house can indicate that parent dying early in your life or it can represent them being emotionally or physically absent as well. It's spooky how many charts I've seen where this is the case. (I know death is a sensitive topic, so I don't want to freak anyone out by saying this placement is a 100% indicator of a physical death, because it isn't).
🩵I know Taurus' loving food is a huge stereotype, but it's so true! Every Taurus sun in my life loves to go out to eat, cook, or be cooked for and it's their love language. They can also be super big on physical touch such as massages and hugs. They're all about the senses.
🩵Leo moons tend to be the comedians of their family or friend group. They're the ones everyone relies on to bring the fun and playful energy. They really shine a light in people's lives.
🩵Jupiter transiting the 5th house the same time as a Venus return is a super powerful transit for love and romance. I've seen charts where this indicated marriage, meeting a long-term partner, or starting a new relationship.
🩵When it comes to transits, Saturn is the most important planet to look at imo because it's the planet of timing. Looking back on every time Saturn made a conjunction with one of my personal planets or angles, it highlighted a significant event/theme in my life.
🩵Someone having their moon in your 1st house you may notice that these are the people you find yourself easily letting your guard down around. It's easy and comfortable to be with them. This is a great placement for friendship.
🩵You may find yourself feeling soul-bonded to a pet who has their sun as your moon. My cat is a Pisces sun and I'm a Pisces moon and I've never felt such a strong connection to a pet before. He's my actual baby.
🩵Saturn in the 5th house typically aren't interested in having kids. They may feel incredibly overwhelmed by the pressures and responsibilities that come with raising children. If they decide to have kids, their kids can bring out a very karmic energy in them and can exasperate wounds from their own childhood. This can manifest as a positive or negative experience depending on the sign it's in and other aspects.
🩵Check where your 4th house ruler is in your chart. It can further indicate what your childhood was like. For example, I have an empty Gemini 4th house, but my 4th house ruler is in Mercury in my Scorpio 8th house making a conjunction with my Chiron and I had a very dark and traumatic upbringing.
🩵Nobody knows overthinking like a Virgo sun and/or mercury knows overthinking. Their brain is constantly thinking about what can go wrong in any given situation, scanning everything they need to check off from their mental to-do list before they can allow themselves to relax, and will bring up a specific worry you haven't even thought about. I only have a Virgo mars and that's enough Virgo energy in my chart for me. They are the living embodiment of anxiety.
200 notes · View notes
lustlovehart · 3 days
Text
I'll Suffer Your Sin
A/n: Based off of this thought: “My Crime To Commit”
Summary: You shouldn’t have to become him, he won’t let it happen so, take it all out on him, he’ll be your solution if it means saving you. [Blade lets you stab him a bunch because he loves you.]
Warnings: Blood, Violence, Minor deaths, Possessive Characteristics (Blade), Major Character & Reader Injuries, Blade loves you but does not show it very good,
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“Are you planning on just staring at me? Cause if you want we can talk about what happened.” Your figure is sat on a stool, leaning into the mahogany table as your hand lifts a glass onto your lips.
The lights are dimmed to the point that if anyone passed by they wouldn’t see the bodies that laid on the floor, but they were bright enough to see the numerous splatters of blood splashed around the space. Or, maybe a more accurate depiction would be dumped.
Even the man leaning next to you is colored red, but you’re the only clean thing in the room.
“No. You should rest.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“You did enough.”
“An attempt is enough to you?”
“Yes.”
Your fingers pinch onto your nose bridge, a sigh escaping your lips as you turn the chair to look at him.
“Why won’t you let me help you? I’m perfectly capable of killing too— ” the turn of his head is sharp, it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him outside of a battle react so quickly.
“I’m not letting you commit the same sins I do.” Your eyes make contact, but your hearts don’t seem to connect at the subject. You don’t get it.
“What? Do you think i’m not capable of doing such a thing? I’m perfectly fine with doing it, is that not what you-“
His body lifts itself from leaning on the counter, walking over to one of the deceased corpses and ripping out the dagger held in their palm. He examines it quickly before wiping the blood off the handle, he does not do the same for the edge.
“Blade…? What are you doing?”
His body turns around and walks over to you, his hand taking hold of your arm, pulling you out of your seat. Not too rough, but not gentle either.
Your eyes widen for a moment as he lifts the weapon up. Is he going to…? No he wouldn’t, not to you at least. His eyes don’t fail to notice the shift in your eyes.
“I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“Oh… Okay… So then what is that for?” Your eyes are attached to the sight of the weapon in front of you, but the man's vision doesn’t move away from you. He tosses the dagger up and catches it in his palm, the hilt facing towards you as his skin is sliced, his own blood seeping from the corners.
He leans into you, he's done it many times before so you have no clue why this one feels different… His lips graze your ears as his low voice whispers into it.
“You wish to murder? Then kill me.”
“… What…?”
His left hand grabs hold of your waist, pulling you closer. His other palm wrapping around your hands and guiding you to take hold of the weapon, hsi grip relentlessly tight as he doesn’t let go. It’s so firm you wouldn’t be able to make him let go if you tried.
“I’ll let you. If you want to kill, do away with me. Plunge this weapon into my heart as many times as you long for, it’s all yours to massacre.” He raises your grasp on the weapon high into the air, not even allowing you a chance to answer before plunging it deep into his heart. Upon impact blood begins to gush out, staining your fingers a deep red.
“Blade…! What are you—?! Yingxing—!” You fight to let his hold on you falter, but it doesn’t let up. Not even for a moment. He pulls the edge out from his heart, lifting your hands up together once more, ready to stab himself again.
“If doing this kills your urge to let yourself fall into hell, i’ll do it hundreds of times more.” You can feel him preparing himself for another blow. Your head searches for a way to stop this act. The way his left arm is pulling you in by the waist is strong, you know you can’t push him away. The same goes for the hand holding your own and the dagger together.
And so he does it again. Then again. These blows are enough to murder anyone immediately, but he still stands, so does his grasp on you, never faltering.
So you do what you can with the only free part of you.
Right when you feel his hand bringing the blade down, you place your own hand right in the spot he plans to further wound himself. Your eyes clench, fully expecting the weapon to pierce through your skin. When time came to, there was still a sharp pain on you, but it did not stab through the way you thought it would.
They scene playing out in front of him makes the familiar, unwanted, sensation of Mara bubbling up within him.
When your eyes open, the look on his face is one of his more expressive looks, eyes slightly widened. He had stopped his onslaught of blows right before he could fully stab through you, but with the speed he had thrust the dagger, he had still hit you anyway. Your eyes follow his own, looking down at your appendage.
The adrenaline must've distracted you from the pain, as when you look the wound finally starts to act up, a mixture of grunts and curses escaping your mouth from the affliction.
His immediate reaction is to set you back down on the seat you originally were sat on. It doesn't take too long for the hole in his chest to start regenerating. The way his nerves and flesh reattach is mesmerizing, but your trance is broken the moment you remember it's in fact a part of the body's bloody system, which is… kinda gross.
Your arms are now coated a deep crimson, specks of blood dripping down the sides. It is horrendously grotesque, but it's not a sight you haven't seen before. The man in front of you takes your injured hand and looks at it.
“[Name].” That is all that leaves his lips, before he unwraps the bandage on his own body and transfers it to your own. He would've given you fresh ones had he had any on hand, but he doesn't. Besides, you need them more than he does. He wraps them around your hand, in a soft manner, one unbefitting of someone with his persona.
When your vision starts to unfocus he calls out to you again. But that's all, only saying your name when you begin to gaze off in your mind. When he finishes tying your wound up he says your name one last time, this time following it up with something.
“This may have been worse than you staining your hands with another's blood.”
…?
“You said you didn't want me to kill, so that counts you too doesn't it…?”
“No. If anything, my blood is the only ones who you should touch.” Ah, now you understand. He said it a bunch of times, but you were just too dazed to realize the real meaning as he was essentially murdering himself with your own body.
Seems he’s spent most of his immortal life in pain to remember what a kind touch was. Weirdly enough, this act of self harm is both possessive and “loving”, if you could call it that.
Possessive in that, the thought of anyone else's blood on your hands, or even worse, your touch, on another person's skin, would make his mara bubble up in such a hideous way neither Kafkas spirit whisperer nor your presence could calm it down.
But kind in the aspect that he could never fathom the thought of you turning into him. Him… He hates the thought of any sufferings you could face in the future. Even though it's selfish of him to even hope for something from you, his sick affliction that Kafka would tease him for, “love”, he cant help but feel personally inclined to redirect any misfortunes that come your way to his own soul.
The lights flicker as you stare at him, being sat down made it so he would have to position himself to lean down. You’re sure that if you had been calmer you would’ve noticed his soften voice.
The feeling of his mara begins to still. His hand takes your covered hands and places it on his chest, his other appendage taking your free palm and putting it on his cheek.
The tear in his clothes from the previous assault remains, the sensation of your fingertips touching his skin making you shiver. The faint feeling of a beating heart is felt, this fact visibly upsetting the man.
“No matter how many times you murdered me, it wouldn’t have changed anything. This accursed body will rebuild itself. I don’t need it. So have it.”
“Huh…? What are you saying… Do you always have to speak so cryptically—“
“Take me, as much as you need. All of it if you have to.” The grip on your hands tightens, enough to keep you in place, but not to the point of harm— he would never.
Your hand stings a bit, a wince escaping your mouth. It makes him let go of you, as he presumes the taller position, no longer leaning down to see eye to eye at you. The still you sit on squeaks as you uncomfortably shift in it. His eyes close themself as he returns to the pose he first was from the start, leaning on the table next to you.
“I’ll leave the… ‘sinning’, to you than.” After this little quarrel, perhaps proving your worth is not as fulfilling as you once thought.
He doesn’t give you an answer, only replying with a deep “mm”.
“Oh? Did I interrupt something?” An all too familiar woman walks into the room, her eyes glancing all around the bloodstained room. She doesn’t even acknowledge the bodies laid on the floor, her heels clicking as she steps over them like they’re not there.
Neither of you say anything, leaving Kafka to stare and imagine what had happened. Or maybe not, she probably already knew what happened but wanted to hear one of you admit it yourself.
“Hm, fine, it doesn’t matter, Elio needs us to leave, the script says the IPC will be arriving on this planet soon.” She doesn’t waste anytime turning heel and walking out again. Typically, when it’s just her and Blade he’ll silently trail behind her, like a second shadow.
But you can feel the way his eyes burn holes into your body, waiting for you to be the one to get up and follow. Your eyes dart towards him for a second but return back to the doorway, lifting yourself up, the injuries hand you possess tingling from the movement.
It’s only when you're close to being out of view that he moves, his silent steps being quick as he immediately catches up to your fleeting form. Seems when you’re involved he’s more insistent on being your shadow than his own. His methods of becoming one with you aren’t sane, but surely enough it’s all he has to give you, so he’ll make you have it all.
———
Ever since I made that thought I had this cooking up in my drafts and I finally have it finished
194 notes · View notes