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heleneea · 1 year

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Disorganized Attachment

trouble disclosing feelings

allowing themselves to be vulnerable

difficult to open up to other people

have a negative view of themselves and others

tend to act difficult/ intolerable ways that end up pushing people away (confirming their belief that other people will reject them as self fulfilling prophecy)

tendency to recreate conditions of childhood. subconsciously get involved with fearful/ potentially abusive people

relationships have taught them they cannot rely on others to accept and love them for who they are so they may act suspiciously/ jealous of their partners’ behaviors

prone to mood swings and create conflict within a relationship

problem expressing their needs and emotions in coherent ways because they struggle to understand them

can be clingy/ demanding in relationships. deeply desire love so actively seek attention and approval but can overanalyze their partners’ actions due to fear of abandonment

presumption that their needs won’t be cared for so they shut down their emotions and can come across as cold and unfeeling

inconsistent push and pull energy (ex: I hate you but don’t leave me)

inability to feel safe and cared for despite craving that very thing

“feeling flooded, traumatized, unsafe and confused fear”

conflicting emotions- wanting to be loved but not being able to let anyone in

“They’re afraid that the people who they’re closest to are going to hurt them, and feel like rejection and hurt are inevitable.”

even if have support, have hard time believing

struggle to self regulate their emotions/ behaviors

can act impulsively/ inconsistently

“I’m leaving you before you have a chance to hurt me”

low self esteem & low self worth that impacts the ability to keep consistent, safe feeling and long lasting relationships

usually stems from trauma/ neglect from childhood

may stem from parent’s unresolved trauma/ loss

experience highs and lows at such depths that it’s hard for them to know what steady ground looks like

may see partner as place of safety one moment but the villain the next

you don’t want to burden others with your problems but you internally know that you need to connect with someone

you are capable of great emotional depths but you feel overwhelmed by them

people tell you you’re “too intense” and it leaves you lonely and isolated

your critical voice is most frequently used on yourself- this self criticism makes it hard for you to see and accept the gray areas in others as well. It creates and unambiguous standard of perfection

as you turn from hot to cold, your partner doesn’t understand why you can’t trust them. They might say things they don’t mean, in anger, or accuse you of being “too emotional”

these negative reactions just confirm your suspicions that your partner is flawed. You break up only to regret your decision later.

focusing on the flaws in your partner

deep seated feeling of worthlessness and being undeserving

may cling to the idea of a perfect partner so any flaws are hard to accept

inability to regulate emotions or how to respond to the emotions of others

alternating between clinginess and distancing

difficulty bonding with, opening up and trusting other people

behaving in a way that ends up pushing their partner away because they are expecting their partner to hurt them but then end up in a place of distress because they really want their partner to stay

negative view of themselves and others

scary for them to let people get close enough for them to form intimate bonds

afraid of intimacy but equally scared of not having it

like playing a game that you never really understood the rules of. You want to play and win but no one ever told you how to play. You lose every time you try to play and end up getting hurt

to overcome disorganized attachment, you must work through the confusion you have about the conditions of love. It’s not your fault that no one told you how to play the game and win. You have an innate desire to connect with other people but knowing how to use emotions to connect is not innate knowledge.

Finding someone who makes it a little easier to trust (nonjudging, predictable, accepting) can be the perfect place to start opening up and exploring your experiences, needs, and emotions in a safe environment.

For the partner:

realize it’s not personal. It’s not about you. Try not to be triggered by your loved one’s reactions to their fear. Be accessible, responsive, engaged. Show up in a secure, consistent and predictable way. Take care of yourself. Set your limits and encourage your partner to seek help when your ability to be there effectively ends.

Root cause of disorganized attachment is fear. Prove that you are a safe person. Be very patient and extremely consistent. Demonstrate that you’re there for them. You care for and love them. Make your affection known. Communicate through both words and actions that you’re not going to disappear or abandon them. Build trust. Remain calm throughout all the emotional disregulation they experience. Recognize that there is inconsistency in their approach in the relationship. Tolerate the ups and downs as much as you are able to.

Communicate openly and clearly. Be consistent. Aim to be patient and understanding. Listen to their concerns. Don’t expect trust straight away.

https://www.womenshealthmag.com/relationships/a40079652/disorganized-attachment-style/

https://brianamacwilliam.com/disorganized-attachment-style/

https://www.attachmentproject.com/disorganized-attachment-relationships/#:~:text=Disorganized%20attachers%20view%20their%20romantic,disappointment%20are%20inevitable%20in%20relationships.

https://thrivefamilyservices.com/a-deep-dive-into-disorganized-attachment/

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bratz-kitten · 3 years

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ASTRO OBSERVATIONS PT. 7

gemini and pisces placements are similar in the sense that geminis are able to see things from all perspectives, while pisces are able to empathise with people who have all sorts of different perspectives. pisces placements... be careful with over-empathising with the people who hurt you to the point where you’re understanding why they did it and you start excusing their actions. gemini placements... be careful with seeking the multi-layers and million different perspectives in everything and everyone to the point where you’re driving your own mind insane and you don’t know what your opinion is anymore because you hyper-analyse so much. too much of a good ability becomes a curse.

people with venus-mars aspects have a talent for making people who hate them fall in love with them 💋

moon in the 11th house natives tend to attract friends who get into scandals. moon in the 10th house natives tend to be the ones who get into said scandals. it’s a PERFECT FRIENDSHIP

capricorn placements have a talent for knowing how to make things last. they want to prolong the enjoyment they get out of something for as long as possible, which is why their hobbies, friendships and relationships tend to last a lifetime... hedonistic sluts

since both the 7th house and the 11th house rule fandoms, celebrities with a 7th house or 11th house neptune can attract fans who view them as angels who can’t do nothing wrong — because of this, those celebrities rarely take accountability for their mistakes, since people keep pushing the “but they’re perfect :(“ light on them

pluto conjunct ascendant natives always come off as very serious during first impressions, no matter how approachable and inviting they strive to appear.

sun and moon in the 10th house people may feel as if they’re always exposed to the public eye, they can’t get away with keeping things secretive. others always notice whatever they want kept on the low. this can be especially frustrating if they notice that others aren’t exposed to the same kind of scrutiny that they are for simply existing

lilith in pisces bitches have a natural talent for appearing like angels even in situations where they are 100% guilty. it’s very easy for them to put on their vulnerable, lost puppy act lmfao, which triggers others’ protective instincts. they may be able to cry on cue when people call them out on their bullshit, making them feel like THEY’re the shitty ones for confronting the lilith native... it’s insane

lilith in the 12th house natives may feel as though the themes of lilith are trapped in their psyche, at the core of who they are and those themes become unavoidable for them — they’re always there, lurking in the shadows, becoming the center of their nightmares

people with mercury in the 1st house can feel veryyy threatened and defensive when someone possesses knowledge in an area that they don’t, it’s like it hits them right on their biggest fears. they often either try to “one-up” the other person in an attempt to heal their broken ego or shut down altogether in insecurity. it’s imperative that they work on developing a strong sense of self-worth because they can be extremely prone to comparing their mental skills to those of other people.

people with personal planets in the 12th house may feel as though a lot of their artistic drive is stifled by their lack of energy. like... in the mental realm there’s a lot going on and it’s incredible, but then you pick up a pen to actualize your visions and you feel exhaustion immediately overtaking you. it can feel like there’s a lot to your psyche that feels inaccessible to you not because you don’t want to explore it, but because you have yet to restore the energy to dive deep into it. this can be especially noticeable if there’s absolutely no 5th house energy in the chart

people with jupiter in an earth sign love being surrounded by greeneries in their home; they may take a lot of enjoyment out of taking care of plants, gardening, cooking and stuff of the sort. it makes them feel more grounded, independent, and even healed. they also LOVE scents that connect them to nature like the scent of grass and the ocean.

air mercuries can be very beware of strangers, they can feel offended when their friends make them socialize with someone they don’t know and it can take a hot while before they trust the person enough to lower their defences a bit. they need to know it’s safe before expressing their usual sexy eccentric selves in front of someone new. on the other hand, aries placements can also hate being introduced to new people through their friends but it’s mostly because they’re very territorial over them, and can’t stand the thought that this new person can hurt their friendship in any possible way

meanwhile, it’s probably an earth or leo/sagittarius mercury introducing new friends to the group. they’re so fucking good with people and it shows in how they make people feel welcomed so easily, it’s like they “take” the person in and adopt them into the group. they can’t stand seeing someone being treated like an outcast because they know how it sucks to feel rejected, so they’ll try their best to make you feel included

while on the subject of people who hate seeing others be treated like an outcast because they know how it feels like to be rejected: SCORPIO RISINGS. bro. people underestimate how chill they can actually be. if they see you being left out, they’ll approach you with no fucks given and do anything in their power to make you feel comfortable. they do so well in group settings.

and while on the subject of scorpio risings... i have a scorpio rising friend and he goes thru it on the daily. he often complains that people are always suspicious of him and that they seem repulsed by him, strangers on the street will stay tf away from him. and it’s so heartbreaking because his personality is so friendly and welcoming and it doesn’t at all match his intimidating appearance. scorpio risings have this energy that not many people can handle, others feel either really drawn to them or downright scared of them because of the “danger” element they seem to carry in them

i know two people who are both scorpio suns and libra moons and they look the exact same, even though they have different risings. brown, deep-set eyes, coarse dark hair, naturally tanner skin tone — and they have the same style as well, using lots of band t-shirts and dark clothing. scorpio energy is always so noticeable wherever it is i swear, it’s like it takes over the rest of the chart

gemini moons are what yall claim gemini venuses to be. like, seriously... have you ever met someone with a gemini venus? they don’t need constant stimulation or else they’ll get bored and cheat. not in the slightest; actually, they’re often incredibly loyal and crave longterm, committed relationships. if anything, they need stimulation outside of their relationship in the form of a good, exciting career and hobbies so that they don’t get too addicted to their partner and to constantly analysing every aspect of their relationship. gemini moons however, tend to have multiple partners throughout life and they often feat deep commitment. they can be huge players imo, IT’S THEM YOU SHOULD BE WORRIED ABOUT!

sagittarius placements are so... tactile? like, they love to touch things. when they go to stores and stuff, they’ll start holding everything that catches their attention— it’s like they can only decide if they want to buy something after thouroughly exploring how it feels, the texture and the energy that the object gives them through touch. and they talk so much with their hands. it makes me so anxious like bitch you aren’t selena gomez, i promise you that you CAN keep your hands to yourself

taurus placements are so weird to me, i can’t understand them. it’s like they’re afraid of exploring their own depths, which in turn makes me unable to explore them. okay, how do i put this... it’s like they have this preset idea of who they are and after deciding so, they’re unwilling to let go of it. “i’m the stable friend who’s here for everyone even when i can barely take care of my own self” and then that’s who they are: the people who are a steady rock in the lives of others, taking care of everyone. and then they refuse to change even after getting hurt. and then, it’s like... well, you can’t just be that. you are a human who contains multitudes, but i don’t think you give yourself enough credit on how layered you are. that fear of changeability, that need to be the one stable thing in a world full of unpredictability will only damage you in the end, because you won’t get to fully experience life’s greatest pleasure: knowing yourself. becoming your own best friend, exploring every layer that there is to your being. i think you deny yourself of that experience because you fear that, with self-learning comes self-growth which leads to transformation. and you fear transformation because you don’t want to change for the worst. but like... transformation is necessary and with that comes adaptability + flexibility, which are things you could greatly benefit from.

scorpio venuses can be so pessimistic— and when they’re in a dark mindset, it’s so difficult to pull them out of it. it’s so difficult to get them to see the good in difficult situations, and to help them believe that it gets better. but even if you don’t believe me, i’ll keep telling you; it does get better. you’ll get through this.

jupiter in the 4th house is an indicator of food having been an amazing part of your childhood; there might’ve been a lot of feasts and you could’ve had a parent who loved to cook. being well fed might be a huge concern for you now; you might get sick easily when you’re eating fast food and non-traditional plates.

mercury square uranus is an extremely difficult aspect to have because, in your earlier years, you might’ve felt dumb or like there was something wrong with your intelligence because you might’ve found school difficult due to it’s structured nature that didn’t fit with the way you like to learn things— you need to learn in an interactive way that piques your interest. your anxiety and any traumatic experienced that you faced could’ve heavily impacted your school performance. you might’ve had an ease with learning but then, when it came to doing the written tests, you couldn’t perform to the best of your abilities. either way, school might’ve been a source of a lot of stress and difficulty.

mercury square pluto can have some weird manifestation where, like... you suspect things but you always suspect the wrong things. i’ve met a few people with this aspect and all of them were extremely suspicious of the most random things who were literally normal and innocent. this aspect can cause a lot of chaos to one’s interpersonal relationships because you might find yourself suspecting your loved ones in the weirdest circumstances due to your trust issues, which in return causes them to lose trust in you + the want to confide in you because you keep questioning everything they’re up to WHEN THEY’RE NOT UP TO ANYTHING IN THE FIRST PLACE. probably the most frustrating thing that can happen with this aspect is when you always suspect what you shouldn’t, but then, when sketchy things are actually happening that should be questioned, you don’t bat an eye to it. omfg it drives me insane

moon conjunct the ascendant can make someone have a very delicate appearance that gives others the impression that they need to handle you like fine china or else you might break. my mother has this at a very tight orb and whenever i bring people over, their first impression of her is always “she looks so frail”. the native might be extremely sensitive to every minor inconvenience which brings a lot of frustration to them, a feeling that they can’t control their reactions and inner turmoil. it can also suck when you don’t want to be depicted as the victim but then that’s the way everyone perceives you. the native might have very expressive and shiny eyes, and they can cry easily. it’s very difficult for them to hide their emotions.

your jupiter sign can signify where you feel an overflow of energy. jupiter in cancer may feel like you have an overflow of nurturing and protective energy towards your loved ones, with a lot of intuition and need for introspection. jupiter in leo can make you feel like you a talent for self-expression and dealing with others, being overly dramatic and prideful at times, and with a huge drive to have fun. jupiter in virgo can feel an overflow of perceptive qualities, with a huge amount of self-awareness and also awareness of your surroundings, ability to constantly analyse and a constant strive for perfection (which btw is impossible since perfection is unattainable and you’re a human being who makes mistakes and that’s completely fine. stop finding flaws where there aren’t none).

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kookiepredictions · 3 years

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Jungkook Twin Flame Reading

A little post in honour of Jungkook’s birthday after which I’ll be taking a break :)

Jungkook Twin Flame Reading

The relationship dynamic between Jungkook and his TF is so interesting to me. To say that they are made for each other is a huge understatement. If human beings have several layers and levels to their being, then it is safe to say that Jungkook and his TF are compatible at every level; that’s how “destined” they are. Even if you take away the spiritual aspect of their connection and just focus on the earthly, physical dimension, they are the type of people who would be instantly drawn to each other. It’s not enough said that they are each other’s type. They could walk into a room full of people and instantly pick the other. Each has the physical appearance that the other finds attractive, the personality that the other admires, and their overall goals and ambitions in life too are very compatible. Whether they hit each other up at the bar, met in a park, hooked up on Tinder, or had an arranged marriage, it doesn’t matter— they would end up together. It’s like in the movie ‘The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind’, where the protagonists erase each other’s memories repeatedly but still end up falling in love every time they meet again. Now you would say, how nice for them, that must make their TF journey so much easier than others’, but (very) interestingly, no, it makes it just the more difficult.

Since they are so obviously compatible, picking each other is an obvious option. It’s like, I don’t need to be divinely guided to pick you; I’d do it anyway. And this is what makes the connection so confusing because there are literally 2 Levels in this connection: 1, where they can just be together as partners or spouses or whatever other earthly relationship term they want to subscribe to, and 2, where they can show up as the Divine Masculine and Feminine and hence have a higher dimensional connection. The difference between these 2 options is that the 1st, while not terrible, would be a mere earthly connection wherein both operate from their wounded selves and therefore their love has conditions, projections, and therefore hurts and problems. This type of relationships is not very uncommon to find and one might even argue that what’s so bad with that? Every relationship has problems. That’s normal. But then I urge you to ask yourselves, is it normal or it is normalized? Also, it might be commonly seen, but with their potential to be Twin Flames, Jungkook and his DF are not here to have a “normal” connection. And they are definitely not here to subscribe to the normalized version of love as it exists in the world right now. As TF counterparts, they have been given a choice to opt for more, also known in the TF community as creating new relationship templates. This is why I had mentioned in one of my previous posts that simply being born and then meeting your TF counterpart does not automatically make you each other’s Twin Flames— it only makes you “potential” TFs. It’s only when you show up as your most authentic or Divine self that you are actually “being” TFs. This is not a very simple phenomenon to understand and a lot of times, TF counterparts meet each other and are caught up in the earthly, or lower chakra attraction that they feel for each other. This looks like intense sexual attraction, daydreaming and overthinking about each other, and being almost addicted to each other. Is this a very bad thing? No, definitely not. Understand that the lower chakras represent our earthly existence and as such, all experiences stemming from them ground us onto that aspect of life and done right, it’s a beautiful experience. Also, one thing I disagree with a lot of people about is that the TF connection is not romantic. Oh but it is! The TF connection is not a fairytale. Heck yeah it is! But I also understand where they are coming from. I think the problem is in the way the words “romance” and “fairytale” are perceived these days. I don’t know about you, but fairytales to me are all about boy meets girl, fall in love, want to be together but problems arise, misunderstandings happen, third parties interfere, sorrows and tears, breakthrough, problem-solving, maybe even some fights, songs and dances, and finally, union. This don’t look like the TF connection to you? Of course, the TF journey is not so oversimplified, linear or one-dimensional, and doesn’t end in like 1 ½ hours. But that’s still the gist though. As for romance, again, I earnestly think the meaning of romance is so skewed right now, it makes me sad. As far as I have lived (and loved), romance has never been just about wining and dining, flowers and chocolates, singing and dancing (although they are a part of that and a very fun one at that). For me, the TF connection is romance at its peak. If romance is defined as the expression of love and affection, then there can be absolutely nothing more romantic than a person who would stop at NOTHING to be with you, to the point that they would take an axe and strike down their own ego, burn and destroy themselves over and over again to be their most authentic self because they see you and think, you’re worth it. So many people in the world right now would rather replace you with someone else simply because they are too proud to look into themselves and heal their wounds that are stopping them from experiencing true love, and continue living with their masks on. Masked people bringing flowers and diamonds and basically everything else other than their heart has never been a romantic notion for me. But yes, the skewed definition of romance these days does not accommodate such depth of the emotion and expression of love, so it’s limited to being perceived (and executed) as materialistic and surface-level exhibition.

TFs, upon meeting each other for the first time, experience all of these earthly tendencies. In itself, it’s not a bad thing at all. It’s sweet, spicy and exciting because seldom do you find a person that gets your heart racing like that. The “relationship” too, seems within your reach. But just when you reach out for them, the tower moments happen. This is when TFs realize that there is much more than what appears on the surface and you got to dig deeper. With Jungkook and his DF, it just was even more confusing because them being so compatible and an “obvious choice” for each other, the delays and the “ifs” and “buts” just did not make sense. This was especially Jungkook’s energy where he was more focused on the earthly manifestation of this connection because that’s what made sense to him— boy meets girl, fall in love, together bam! (Lol I had to make that joke cuz it’s a special day). He was also focused more on the external manifestations of problems in the connection, for example, he would think, I cannot be with the DF because of X, Y, Z. But the TF journey, like any other spiritual journey, will always teach you to look inward. Any problem and situation in life is always the external manifestation of something that is wrong inside, and therefore that’s where all solutions lie. On the other hand, as DFs are usually initiated into the spiritual journey first and are more concerned with that aspect of the connection (explained in detail in a previous post), his DF kept running away from him because Jungkook’s state of mind was not supportive of her spiritual quests. It’s important to understand that neither of them was consciously doing this; both did what they did because that’s what made sense to them at their level of healing. As the “lead” in this journey though, somehow it all started with the DF. She felt the call to opt for that higher dimension in their connection and to move away from him when he wasn’t in the ready state to even understand, let alone, support that spiritual aspect, which is what is known as the Separation— the part where both parties need to focus on their own healing. However, it’s one thing to know what to do, and quite another to embody that knowledge and act on it with the trust that everything will ultimately work out. So for a while, she too was caught up in her lower dimensional cravings. It’s safe to say that just like Jungkook, she was terrified of losing him because like I said, even in a non-TF way, they seemed so perfect for each other, you just do not want to miss the chance to at least give it a shot. But her soul would be tugging at her to complete the tasks that she had undertaken prior to incarnation, in other words, her soul contract, so she wouldn’t be able to be fully present in this connection either. And so she would do this thing where she would take a step forward towards her destiny and then look back at Jungkook where he was in his journey to see if he would join her. Repeatedly. But this connection IS about your soul journey, her indecision and mental to and fro would energetically keep Jungkook in an indecisive and back and forth state too. It’s like everytime she would look back to see if she was making a mistake, Jungkook would look back to see if he was making a mistake. This was keeping him attached to his karmic situations, which would then drain him, which would make him want his DF more to fill him up, which would create energy drainage for the DF which would ultimately repel the DF and she would want to run far, far away from him. This pushing him away in turn would hurt and confuse Jungkook and he would start doubting the connection and his self worth and start thinking that he doesn’t deserve her and that she is staying away from him because she isn’t interested in him and it’s all in his head, and so he would think of walking away from her before she leaves him. This is the push and pull dynamic in this connection and this was the loop that they were stuck in for a while.

Over time though, his DF has been inching closer and closer to her destined path, trying to find faith in herself, in the connection and in Jungkook and has been looking back less. Recognizing her role as the lead, she has had to make the difficult decision to solely focus on herself and put Jungkook out of her mind— a “whatever happens, happens, I’m not abandoning myself for anyone anymore” kind of a decision. This has been difficult for her because she has always naturally been someone who puts other people’s needs before her own. When she likes someone, it has always made sense for her to almost sacrifice all her needs and wants for the other person’s. However, this energy has never been reciprocated to her in her previous connections, and her life would always eventually turn out to be one where her needs were always in the backburner. As I had said in a previous post, when she first meets Jungkook, the way he treated her was quite different from others. While other men would make these big show of love while ignoring the smallest, most basic things about her, Jungkook was observant of the little subtle things about her and more importantly, always willing and even seeking to do things that felt tailormade for her. While other people made their moves with agenda, Jungkook had this energy of just vibing in the moment, doing little things, making her smile. It was like he had even forgotten to set a purpose or intention of interacting with her; he just did what he did because it made him so happy. This caused her to put down her guard and a connection was made. However, this connection, or specifically, the happiness and bliss in the connection did not last long because both were interacting from a co-dependent place— they were both doing things trying to seek happiness from the other, to fill an empty void in themselves. But as I discussed earlier, when you seek something outside of yourself, it is never enough because that void can only be filled by you. So, what started as a beautiful and fun connection started morphing into a confusing, draining and hurtful one. This was very the signal to start levelling up into a higher dimension of the connection— the connection in itself wasn’t wrong; it was just that it was established in a lower, 3D dimension that was keeping it embroiled in pain and struggle. The DF was the first to recognize this and felt it in her heart to first, individually level up. But as said earlier, she was constantly looking back in doubt, afraid she might just lose him, which, true to the TF connection, kept Jungkook stuck in a fear of losing her. When Jungkook is stuck in the energy of this fear for long enough, external problems would manifest to reflect and amplify that fear, which then, as I said, would make him want to leave her first before she could leave him, because he felt that he loved her too much to ever be able to bear the pain of his heart being broken by her.

In present times, his DF has been a lot more confident in herself and in this connection. This has happened because she has spent considerable amount of time healing her trauma patterns which has immensely increased her faith in the Divine and she is able to see this connection clearly, not just from a knowledge point of view, but also from a deep feeling. In the past, she was stuck in the confusion of “if he is right for me, then how does it make sense to leave him behind?”, the same confusion that Jungkook had. But then again, when she stayed behind, there would be all these differences of opinions between them and problems and hurt would ensue. Both saw each other as their destination and yet, the path each proposed to take was different. Jungkook took the more rational, practical path while his DF was inclined to the more spiritual, “listen to the Divine, have faith and let go” path. Incidentally, the spiritual path is not irrational either. The real, practical problems in their connection did not go unnoticed by the DF. She noticed the co-dependency, the fact that she was constantly putting her own needs behind to try to address his needs and also the fact that even after that, Jungkook was still stuck in fear, doubt, confusion and misery. But more than anything else, she saw the once-beautiful connection deteriorate every day. This was painful to her because from the moment she saw Jungkook, as an intuitive and foresighted woman, she knew he was the one, and that this would be a beautiful and fulfilling connection, and the start had even been that way. The intense attraction, waiting for each other everyday, daydreaming when they were alone, every love song finally making sense— stuff straight out of a movie or a romance novel. But this reality kept slipping off, and it hurt her to see it all go down the drain. So when she realized that this connection needed to be anchored to a higher frequency, she had to make the choice of walking away from him to work on herself. She knew that she wasn’t being her most authentic, divine self, and as such, wouldn’t be able to create an authentic and divine connection. While in the past she was afraid of being judged by him for the choices and decisions she made, more recently she has stepped into the confidence that living her life from her heart is not something she should ever be afraid of, and if Jungkook is the divinely destined partner that she thought he was, he would never stand in the way of her living a life that made her happy. She also knew that unless she heals herself from her own trauma and wounds, she would not be able to love him right either. She isn’t perfect and in the past she has done many a hurtful things to people she loved and she is afraid unhealed, she would do the same to Jungkook. In this energy, she foresees the connection to become riddled with problems and trauma bonding and she would rather leave him and this connection right this instant where it is still relatively peaceful, than create a reality where they hurt each other that much. It’s funny that in her past relationships, whenever she hurt her partner, she would feel guilty for behaving that way more because she feels it was beneath who she is, but on hindsight she will be like, well they still deserved it for being complete jerks to me. But with Jungkook, she feels like she wouldn’t be able to ever willingly hurt him because she believes he doesn’t deserve to ever be treated that way, so it could only mean that in such a state, she would only hurt herself each time and she didn’t want that for herself either, so she feels like she’d rather stay away from him and the connection than cause all that. This is similar to how Jungkook feels about her as well, which is why no matter how tough it gets for him to go on without her, he always reminds himself that he couldn’t possibly with her until he became capable enough to give her all the happiness that she deserves, so that’s where they would mirror each other. And yet, everytime he feels empty, he wants to reach out to her. However, as the DF has started becoming confident in the connection, and stopped looking back in doubt, Jungkook has been feeling confident too. The more she heals, he heals. Now, they are both on their adventures of finding themselves while still recognizing the presence and impact of this connection in their lives. I think they’ve both realized that trying to escape this connection is a lost war. Instead they are embracing it and letting it guide them while still learning to put themselves first. Even after all the doubts and fears, their destination still remains the same, and the path seems to be aligning as well because they are both trying to meet each other halfway. Will there be anymore problems, confusion, doubts, fears, anger, frustration? Maybe, maybe not. But like I always say, that’s not the point of life at all. Nor is that the point of relationships. Problems might still arise but unlike in the past, they won’t be swept into co-dependency. The DF has learnt to listen to her heart every time, even if Jungkook does not agree with her and will address Jungkook’s needs only when she has ensured that her own needs are met first. In return, Jungkook has learnt to trust that his DF’s path will never be separate from his— time and time again, he has seen his DF return to him, never ceasing to love him and he has learnt to trust more in the Divine to give him what he believes belongs to him. Soon enough, they will be whole, complete and happy enough on their own accord and this will create a harmonious and blissful interdependent connection between them with the earthly intense attraction as well as the divine peaceful stability.

Just to avoid an abrupt end, let me share one of my favourite quotes that aptly defines this journey (except add “vice versa”):

“A woman's heart should be so hidden in God that a man has to seek Him just to find her.”

― Maya Angelou

Happy 24th birthday Jungkook, I hope you always know and remember that you are well loved, not because the person or the people who love you are good people, but because you deserve to be loved always. What is yours will never pass you by and what you seek, seeks you I promise. You will see, in time. Every single thing in this connection and in this journey might not make sense and it might seem long and dragged out, but if you want the other person to consider your needs, you must consider theirs too. That is true love. And it is yours. You’ve worked for it and you’ve earned it. Your DF wants you as much as you want her. But she won’t give herself to you unless she deems herself as someone you deserve and you deserve the best. She knows you already think she’s perfect but she also knows that you have the biggest, the kindest and the most accommodating heart and you would never make anyone feel lesser than. But she’s adamant lol. She says, Jungkook deserves the best and he will have the best. Please allow her the time and space to do this not just for you but also for herself— allow her to heal her insecurities so she never feels small and insignificant anywhere she goes. Don’t forget that your destination is the same. Allow her to take a different path once in a while if she so pleases, and don’t be afraid to do the same. Do what YOU want to do and what is best for you. Always. If it hurts her ego, best believe that it is HER problem to take care of. If you are meant to be, mistakes and slip ups will never get in the way of that. If you are meant to be, neither of you should ever have to hide any part of yourselves. Trust that being your most authentic selves, no matter how odd, shameful and unforgiving it might seem to you, will always bring you closer. That’s just what unconditional love is. That’s what you are divinely created to have. If you have to hide, pretend and suppress any part of you to please the other, it’s just not love, and believe you me, your connection won’t last that way. I know it’s scary, to show those parts of yourself to another, parts that even you haven’t been able to accept, embrace or forgive, then how are they going to do that? She knows and she fears the same about herself. But know that you both have to show up as who you are, otherwise this connection remains a daydream and an illusion, the bubble of which will burst sooner or later. You both have been given the opportunity to create something that is not just missing but is needed in this world right now. Take it and make the best out of it. At the end of your lives, as you sit on your porch, watching the sunset together, you will get to look back in triumph and gratitude for one hell of an adventure. Happy birthday once again! May this day be the start to the best, happiest, most fun, most exciting, most exotic, most peaceful, most authentic and most soul-ly fulfilling life you have ever wanted.

P.S. I really wanted to make a small and compact post but for some reason I rambled on and also I feel so tired after this I want to go to sleep immediately. I don’t have the energy to see what I’ve written anymore so I hope it all made sense. See you after my break! PPS. :) :) :)

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moancores · 3 years

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𝙸 𝚆𝙰𝙽𝚃 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙰𝙳𝙳𝙸𝙲𝚃𝙴𝙳 𝚃𝙾 𝙼𝙴

summary : laying with you i feel like moving clouds high in the sky

pairings : aki hayakawa x fem! reader

caution warnings : smoking (cigarettes), mentions of fingering, a fic without a plot

words : 1.6k

inspiration : cigarette (ft. Tablo, Miso) — offonoff

Aki is cautious, even on his days off, he’s still highly aware of his surroundings and refuses to put his guard down. Paranoia laced his bones like a second skin, flooding his sanity and bathed him in alamort—his colleagues taunting him with obscene mouthfuls, referring to his tension as volatile metallics. He reminds them that it’s always better safe than sorry at the end of a job, his eyes always glazed in wet, insomniac entrapment. Of course, nobody took him seriously until after they were dead.

So in these lunar gold moments, where evening arrived too early, he wandered inside a morphean building with shame and guilt. The inclescent sign that read ‘DECADENCE’ in English flashed against the ebony ink night sky; showing the dense population of Tokyo that they were willing to open their doors for the damned and beautiful. Even inside the crimson illuminated lobby, where only one man sat at the front desk, Aki still kept his guard as he unconsciously created half moon circles into his salt stain palm from the tip of his nails. He nodded his head to the man with cimmerian eyes, who in return smiled at his favorite patron as the man pointed to the ceiling.

See, boy of misfortune that’s laved in bittersweet sickness was rooted to this love hotel for two years now, his feet pierced in magnetic obsession that always had him crawling back. He was a regular, someone the staff knew by name, despite the hatred that calloused him of how easily they spoke his name. It rolled off their tongues like venom and they made it sound harsh—their tone the equivalent of choking of funeral soil. He hated the illusion of their voices and it could be the overwhelming shame that made him hate them, but he can’t shake the feeling that they could be dangerous.

He held his breath as he looked at the man, feeling the apprehension kissed his skin as he melted into a cold sweat, but he understood. That she was waiting for him in the same room that overlooked the same LED sign that promoted the same ramen stall on the same main street. Aki left the same lobby to take the same left turn to the same ricody staircase, climbing the same nine floors up as the warm light bathed him in hues of champagne drip. He ignored the same art pieces that made him feel uncomfortable throughout the years of visiting, traveling down the same narrow hallway where the same wooden floors tripped him up before sighing at the same wooden door. Aki has frequented this room so casually that the owner of the hotel molded an exact replica of the key to this room.

The scent of peonies enveloped him into a serene eumoiriety as a sheen moisture of humidity coaxing his face, the strands of his acantho hair clung to his skin. The room was bare with little to offer besides a bed that was displayed in the center, adorned with the same pale blue sheets that Aki had messied and soiled with his own multitarian elixirs. In the far end of the room, the balcony doors were open to allow the evening winds to consume the fragments of fornication as the sheer curtains swayed against the current of cool zephyrs. Between the alterations of fabric, you stood amidst the foundation of taboos as you leaned your body against the iron railing, looking outwards towards a malice devoured city with half dead people being the buildment of a devil’s desire. Aki blinked as he watched your wet hair sway against the gust clear currents or how the tips of your hair dribbled warm water and pooled beneath you.

Aki pulled out the pack of cigarettes he recently purchased, tapping the cardboard box against his open palm with thunderous shockwaves in the hopes to pack the cigarettes tight. He fumbled with the packaging but he managed to quickly peel away the thin plastic that encased around the box and threw it to the ground; grabbing a cigarette between his fingers that stained his skin in the scent of tobacco and fig before brushing the filter against his bottom lip. Between the billowy curtains and harsh winds, Aki witnessed a scintilla of mist that blew east from your lips and dissipate into the astral atmosphere—the smell of your cheap cigarettes that were laced with poison was pungent. Aki watched, observing how the ash from your cigarette gravitated downwards towards the concrete versus the cherry cola ashtray that was shaped in a heart. He witnessed how your toes curled as you leaned your body down more against the railing, watching you lean further and further downwards until you began to slip.

“Idiot!” Aki cried, his calloused hands gripping your waist as he pulled you down into the depths of your shared room, “You need to be more careful!”

“I was completely fine, Hayakawa-san.” You rolled your eyes, “No need to worry about me.”

Aki lit his cigarette as he inhaled the first cigarette from the last two hours. His lungs inflated with venom that bit his esophagus, the taste of tobacco flowers shoving down his throat in between the bursts of nicotine obsession. He blew the mist from his nose, feeling his airwaves clog in an arcane burn, “I worry about you like I do anyone else.”

“Aweh, you think that highly of me?” You teased, flicking the end of your cigarette off the balcony.

“Don’t push your ego, you’re not that important to me.” Aki argued, “but I refuse to see any more people die in front of me.”

The beige chair in the corner collected the dust and ash shared between them from purgatory evenings, and despite it’s broken appearance, Aki still sat gingerly in his favorite chair. He quickly dragged another puff of his cigarette before welcoming you into his lap and cradling you close into his arms that were strained with catastrophic dolent. He hissed as your body connected with a freshly blue bruise that blotched him in orchids blooming beneath his flesh—before you could apologize, Aki shook his head and told you not to worry about it. You notice how his body heat radiated with nuclear fission and how it burned like a thousand suns, clearly he was overworking himself and his body is unable to keep up with the demands of his mentality. You couldn’t say anything though, knowing that he’ll get upset and excuse his hard work for determination and becoming the savior of a saccharine generation, so instead you encouraged him to smoke. Maybe chain smoking fifteen cigarettes will keep him bound to you a moment longer, distracting his pulsating hate for devils with the taste of attraction.

You grabbed another cigarette from your carton, placing it sweetly between your lips as your head hung off from the arm of your chair. Your hair mimicking cascades of waterfalls as it fails with the downward spiral of gravity, ichor pooling in your head as Aki lit the cigarette dangling between your peach gloss lips with your butane lighter (shaped and molded to resemble a lock and heart) that he found ridiculous. You inhale deeply through your nose, collecting the smoke into your lungs before you allow it to bleed into the atmosphere.

Aki set aside your lighter before returning his hand to the inside of your thigh, knowing that after two packs, while your organs are festering and dying, his long fingers will slip between the hem of your panties and thrust between your love. Deep conversations will fall into malicious silence as the only thing Aki can clearly comprehend is your soft moans echoing into the sky. His fingers buried deep within you in rhythmic depths as he looks outwards into the skyline of his newly acquired city—wondering what devils wandered about in the far corners of Tokyo before questioning what Makima was doing in this very moment. Sometimes, he’ll look at you and picture Makima unraveling beneath him, lips agape with apricot blush dusting her skin.

In his mind, he knew you were beautiful but you’ll never compare to Makima. Honestly, he doesn’t know why he’s so enamored with her but he’s drawn to her like the sun is with supernovas. There’s always something alluring about the mysterious darkness that blanketed over her, making her feel archaic and silver. To Aki, you were the light, something that felt safe yet dangerous. You can melt him, burn him and you could just as easily cremate him like any other fire devil—you were a hindrance to him but he was addicted to you like every cigarette shared amongst you. You brought life into halcyon days, where flowers stretch their long necks to kiss your nectar.

Besides, those are sensations and thoughts for later. You placed the cigarette you’ve kissed between his lips, allowing to suck and nurture on the vile as his spine relaxed further into the beige chair. His thumb swaying small circles into your flesh as he exhaled the taste of rot from the cheap cigarettes you loved so much. His stress induced head felt a tad bit high from the smoke and your touch that the world around him began to circle slowly and sweetly. His heart thrumming in euphoria as he gladly took another drag of your cigarette, cherishing the feeling of light fingertips against his chapped lips as you held the cigarette for him.

Decadence was a hotel he was swore was the gate to hell from his mortal reality, and somehow you lingered in the corrupt realm of the ninth floor as a distraction from the vile and decay he bathed in. Blood and killings were a part of his life just like how breathing, starving and lust was. However, on the ninth floor of a man made hell, you became a calm addiction that Aki craved—numbing the deaths of his buddies, colleagues and friends after a cry, a funeral and sex. The cigarettes shared between you were the conversations of apprehension, loss, pleasure and possible happy endings. The smell of your pastel breathing places him in a corrosive mood and suddenly, he could devour the moon raw.

You placed your fingers against his lips, encouraging him to take another long hit as the tan filter was eaten from the saliva shared between hallowed bodies. “Smoke up a glimpse of heaven.”

#after;⛓;dark #chainsaw man #aki hayakawa #csm #my writing #chainsaw man x reader #csm x reader #aki hayakawa x reader #aki x reader #aki hayakawa x you

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shreddedleopard · 3 years

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Thoughts on chapter 137, and why it makes complete sense and cements the themes and lessons of Attack on Titan.

I have so many thoughts, I just want to word vomit them out at a million miles an hour, but I’ll try to do this in some sort of order and not my usual chaotic mess.

Attack on Titan is about family and belonging, and THIS is the dream that Ymir was drunk on. This is ‘that scenery.’

Ymir, the founder, just wants to belong somewhere. With someone. She wants to be loved and valued as a person, not as a slave; not as someone who merely fulfils a role. In the latest chapter, Zeke explains how he failed to understand her, but Eren did.

Look at Eren’s words to Ymir in this moment, several chapters earlier:

All Ymir has ever wanted is to be held. To be loved like a person. To feel that connection because of who she is, not the role she fulfils.

Eren understands this, in contrast to Zeke, who once again tries to impose her role upon her:

Ymir has been hanging around in paths all this time, unable to fully die and let her consciousness pass on to the next world, because she needs to find this thing that she’s been searching for since the start of the story.

It’s not just about romantic love. It’s about connection. That sense of being understood and belonging with someone else, whether that be romantically, platonically, as family ... we keep seeing the same theme brought up throughout the entire manga.

Who else is a character that constantly searches for the same thing? Mikasa.

She has so many parallels and yet also opposites with Ymir. Ymir is told she is a slave, she obeys the king, that is her role. And she accepts it. Because she believes that it’s the only way to find happiness; to find this belonging she’s been craving. However, unlike Ymir, who does not truly love the king, I believe that Mikasa does truly love Eren - what form that takes doesn’t necessarily matter to me at this point. It’s just about connection.

Whether Eren feels the same, tragically for him, doesn’t matter. Because Eren knows he is destined to be the one to end the cycle of hatred and free Ymir. And that will ultimately cost him his life. That is why, when Zeke asks him what he will do about Mikas’s affections - which have nothing to do with her bloodline and everything to do with him - Eren cannot answer. That choice has sadly been taken from him.

When Eren asks Mikasa what she is to him, I think he genuinely wants to know at that point. I think he cares about her so deeply and wants to know she feels the same way, and it’s not just about him being ‘her saviour’. But as we’ve seen before, Eren cannot afford to stop for too long and dwell in the moment, because he must push on towards freedom - the freedom of Ymir and the Eldian people from the curse of the Titans.

This brings his conversation around the table with Armin, Mikasa and Gabi into a whole new light. Eren insults his friends in an attempt to push them away from him - because he knows he won’t be around to live that ‘long, happy life’ with them. So instead, he wants to push them to confront their feelings in the arms of others. He pushes Armin to really consider what Annie means to him, and for Mikasa, I believe that Eren intends her to perhaps look towards Jean, who is truly willing to give her the love she has always sought from Eren. Because again, so tragically, Eren will not be around to provide that for her - regardless of whether it’s something he wants or not. His own wishes no longer matter on the path he has been set upon.

Back to Ymir. Eren tells her, he will put an end to this world:

He doesn’t mean the human world; the living world. He means the world of paths, where Ymir is trapped, unable to let go of the souls of dead Eldians, because she’s still searching for that connection she craves so much. Her paths world is an attempt to quell that feeling of loneliness she’s been plagued with, but ironically, she’s more lonely than ever, stuck there, serving the bloodline she’s created from a place of misery and duty, rather than love.

The rumbling and the destruction of Marley is a very tragic consequence of what Eren has to do to put an end to the curse of the Titans. He’s searched for another way to no avail; we’ve seen his remorse when he apologises to Halil or Ramsey in chapter 131:

I think the anger and devastation that’s unleashed in the rumbling, is a result of the hurt and mistreatment both Eren and Ymir have felt at points in their lives.

Eren understands that to destroy the paths realm, first this devastation is necessary, because he’s seen it in his future memories, despite the conflicting feelings it’s evoked from him - he doesn’t really want to destroy humanity outside of the walls, but his own future is telling him that he must and he will. But it’s not Eren’s emotions that drive this initial destruction - it is Ymir’s. These emotions are no different in nature than the ones that Eren felt in response to Armin’s childhood bullies - that sense of unfairness and need to lash out at oppressors - but tragically, unlike Eren who in that moment of intense, irrational emotion had only his fists to vent and release, Ymir is in possession of one of the most terrible and destructive weapons there is - hordes of colossal Titans. And in that moment where Eren finally gives her that validation she has been searching for, and allows her that feeling of release from the duty she’s felt she needed to fulfil for thousands of years, Ymir releases that frustration and anger too and sends them walking.

This theme of the oppressor and oppressed switching places in an endless cycle of revenge and stealing from others what has been stolen from you is a theme that we see repeated throughout not only the AOT manga, but also soundtrack and additional content too.

Eren was right that it would be Armin that saves humanity - because Armin is the one that makes the connection in paths - he understands what is being shown to him with the leaf - and tragically, it actually highlights how, even up until the very end, Eren and Armin knew each other very well. Eren trusted Armin to make sense of what he’s had to do - even if it’s only Ymir that he understands, because while Eren is the one to give Ymir her freedom and unleash this terrible devastation, Armin is the one who must stop it.

But how does this idea of family and connection tie in to the rest of the events in the chapter, and wider manga, and what’s up with Historia’s pregnancy? And how is paths going to be destroyed, if the rumbling has been stopped and Ymir is free, but the Titans are still around?

This is where the rest of our cast fit in - namely Zeke, Levi, Historia and Reiner. If my theory is correct.

Eren gave Ymir the validation she needed and that sense of connection, freeing her from her role, and this bought that final bit of time needed for Historia to give birth to her child. Why is Historia’s child important? Because it is the ‘new dawn’ we’ve seen foreshadowed repeatedly throughout the series. The birth of a new history. And this comes in the form of a new bloodline, no longer infected with ‘parasite’ of the founding Titan.

Unlike Ymir’s bloodline, which stemmed from a place of duty and slavery - as she was ordered by the king to take ‘his seed’, and carried the parasite of the creature that bound to her within the depths of the tree, creating the paths realm and an almost purgatory type space free of death or heaven or earth or anything, Historia’s bloodline will be ‘cleaned’ because of the genes of the child’s father. And not only this, it will be born out of a moment of love and connection, rather than duty. This new combination will make it impossible for a child of the royal bloodline to become a Titan. There will be no coordinate - no link for Ymir from her paths realm to the living world, because the last link to her bloodline - a Titan with royal blood - will no longer exist.

This really brings home the gravity of the moment where Levi cuts Zeke down - he’s the last of the royal Titans, but the reader knows Historia’s baby is about to be born - will they inherit the Titan, and the cycle will re-start?

They will not. The cycle will be broken with them, because - and here’s where it gets wild - Historia’s child is not a Fritz, or a Reiss - they are an Ackerman. They physically cannot turn.

Why does all this fit in symbolically? Let me draw your attention to the genre of Seikaikei.

Attack on Titan uses this idea with our two Ackermans.

We have both endings. Eren and Mikasa, our bittersweet ending, where Eren ultimately chooses the fate of humanity over his relationships with Mikasa and Armin, and Levi, who, in a moment of selfishness, allows himself to put aside his role for a night - probably at the railroad banquet, where he was supposed to be making sure the likes of Eren and Yelena were kept apart - and indulges in this connection that he’s formed with Historia. You can read my 10 reasons post if you want to for why the heck I would think these two would form a deep bond - it’s all there in the Uprising Arc. They have been the same as Ymir - yearning for a sense of love and connection, but bound by roles neither of them asked for or particularly wanted - reluctant heroes comes to mind. Remember how freckled Ymir’s parting wish was for Historia to live for herself?

The result is an accidental pregnancy which, ironically enough, is what is going to annihilate the curse of the Titans and save the world. How poetic that the Titans will not be ‘driven out’ by hate, violence, and destruction, but instead by love, connection and new life.

Remember Kenny and Uri’s miracle?

Kenny and Uri’s chapter, ‘Friends’, was exactly halfway back into the manga. History moves in repeating cycles in AOT, and we see things change slightly each time, on this journey to freedom. At this point, the Ackermans and royals were one step away from where they needed to get to in order to build this paradise - and Levi and Historia complete the cycle by becoming ‘lovers,’ tragically, the thing that Eren and Mikasa could not become, because Eren had to undertake the rumbling and be the one to free Ymir from her sorrow and loneliness. She can make the choice now - will she fight to be reborn as Historia’s child - fight for dominance with the Ackerman bloodline - or will she concede, finally laid to rest because the cycle has been broken by two people that love one another, just like the couple Ymir saw long ago and wished for.

Remember how Eren asked Zeke whether the ackermans act the way they do from a place of duty or genuine feelings? He needed to check it was the real deal that would break the curse, and finally lay Ymir to rest peacefully, after 2,000 years of hatred and searching. She will see that her descendant, Historia, finally has what she always dreamed of. That idea of dreams pushing us onwards - Ymir’s dream is realised through Historia and Levi.

As for the parasite itself? I believe Reiner will be the one to lock it in a Crystal prison with himself, deep underground.

A new dawn will come, and a new world will be built from the ashes of the old.

#snk #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #eren jaeger #levi ackerman #armin alert #ymir the founder #historia reiss #mikasa ackerman

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biznichwrites · 4 years

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Giyuu Kinktober 2020, Day 13: A/B/O, Scent, Knotting

Sweet.

The scent of his maid had never seemed exactly prominent before. In fact he had mistaken it for just simply the scent of his home after some time, given she went through the rooms to clean. Even on his bedding as she practically had to hug it to herself to hang it to dry.

It wasn't until she had fallen ill that he noticed a difference. The scent of his home became less inviting, rather overtaken with the distinct smell of wood and polish. He should have expected as much but the pleasant sweetness had grown on him subconsciously.

When she returned he wasn't sure if her scent had changed, but he knew he savored it more. Subconsciously he inhaled deeper when she walked by, buried his face in the bedding she had just washed.

He heard omegas had a particularly alluring scent, but as a beta he was never quite as blessed as alphas were on actually noticing it. While he never asked, he was fairly certain she was an omega. Perhaps that's why she had been gone the week before, maybe she had her heat.

A sour feeling filled his stomach. Even if it wasn't his business he didn't quite like the idea of someone sweating over her and altering her scent. He had grown fond of having her around. In the case she had been mated to someone there would come a day she wouldn't return.

As one of the few people he liked being around, he had to put effort into this - to make this more than a boss and maid situation.

______________________

"Sir?" Her voice had him perking up, head turning until their eyes met. "I hate to ask but I'm not feeling well. Can I go home a bit early?"

In reality she hated to admit it, but she had run low on her medication and forgot until the last minute. Days passing by so monotonously was a blessing at first, but made her forget to take her medicine or restock her supplies. Hopefully she could dash into town in time, least her heat hit her.

"Yes. Do you need help?" The downside of having a home up the mountain was the trek up and down. He may be cold at times, but not as cold as to allow her to possibly fall down the stone steps.

"I-" Her mind raced, stopping her from answering with a simple no. With her heat crawling closer she could use someone trustworthy to have her back. It would be embarrassing, but she would rather feel a fool than be taken advantage of. Besides, he was the strongest person she knew, even if he was a beta.

"Yes, if it isn't too much trouble."

What should have been a simple trip down the path to the main road that would take her to town turned into a personal curse. Her skin turned a flushed tone, a cold sweat forming at her hairline. However what Giyuu noticed the most was her scent.

Sweet. Almost sickeningly sweet. In an addictive way - a way that lingered in his nose and on his tongue.

All he knew was he agreed to accompany her to pick up some medicine and go home. Simple enough, really. He just didn't understand why his chest felt so tight.

Her pace was inherently slower than his but he had expected that to be the case. What he hadn't expected was for her to stop in the path and remain unmoving.

"What's wrong?" Every passing moment she didn't move was time wasted, he didn't understand the logic of stopping. Ahead of her on the path he turned around to face her only to be hit by her scent before his eyes settled in her form.

"I-I…" She was so embarrassed, feeling her slick begin to form. He would fire her for sure for making a fool of herself in front of him.

Subconsciously Giyuu took deeper breaths, soaking in the sweetness that filled the air. It was obvious, she couldn't deny it.

"I'm in heat." She felt so hopeless, absolutely devastated as her legs pressed together, as if it'd do anything to help her situation.

At the admission Giyuu felt his cock throb, coming to life in a way he hadn't felt before. He had known omegas went into heat, but he had never actually been so close to one. His jaw ached, canines throbbing.

What was going on? This isn't beta behavior.

Either way he knew they couldn't linger, nor could she go into town in this condition.

"We have to go back." It was a firm statement on his part but she nodded. She had come to terms with her situation and prayed to keep a level head through her heat.

He scooped her into his arms, not willing to wait for her to hobble up the path back to his estate.

_______________________

He regretted never learning more about omegas, more in this moment than ever before. His poor maid was whimpering, tears filling her eyes as she shared her woes about the temperature being both too hot and too cold.

He really couldn't focus, not when the sweet scent she carried turned into a craving. Even bundled in blankets to sooth her she felt lonely, looking at him from her place on the futon with a pitiful frown and glassy eyes.

"Tomioka?" Despite his mind's haze, he glanced at her form, wloor what he could make out under the layers of cloth.

"Giyuu." He wasn't sure why he was having her call him his given name, but it felt right.

"Giyuu… Can you… Stay with me?" Even if she felt mindlessly horny, she knew he'd keep her safe. Before her heat she wanted a moment of peace and comfort.

Idly he nodded sitting next to the futon. The omega didn't mind her manners, not when she was so needy, and parted the blankets to pull him in.

He sat stiff, unsure if she was going to fall into a full heat and mate with him. However he found her cuddled to his side, nuzzling into his neck to cover herself in his scent.

Where he expected frantic disrobing and touches, he found her breathing evening out until she fell asleep.

Even if the odd feeling in him swirled, he found it relaxing enough to fall asleep as well.

_______________________

"Hot… Too hot." Giyuu rubbed his eyes, finding himself warm as well, though mostly due to the multiple layers covering him between his clothing and blankets.

Glancing to the side he found his maid shrugging off her yukata and panting, face drenched in sweat and hair damp.

Even if it was just her back he found himself harder than he had ever been in his life. Cock throbbing, he felt himself salivating as he felt the canines within his mouth become more prominent.

There was no way he was a beta. They had made a mistake, a beta doesn't react like this to the scent of an omega in heat.

He wouldn't be a mindless alpha like he heard others complain about. Even if he felt an overwhelming urge to be inside the omega in front of him, he held himself back.

She turned towards him, chest exposed. It took everything within him to close his eyes and keep his hands at his sides. But the almost silent huff of frustration was enough to let her know he was awake.

"Are you warm, too?" at her question he simply nodded, only feeling his eyes snap open feeling her touch. "You're wearing a lot."

Just feeling her unbutton his shirt sent a jolt down his spine. She was willing, she really wanted him. His fingers twisted in the sheets and blankets as she pushed the collar of his clothing away to nuzzle into his bare neck.

"Please, Giyuu."

_____________________

Hips slapped together with a wet noise, undoubtedly from the slick that poured from her.

"Giyuu- please!" Using what little control she had below him she bucked her hips into his.

"Hm?" He acted dumb but he knew better. For the last few rounds she had begged for his knot, whimpering for him to breed her properly.

"Please! Knot me. I need it." such sweet begging, how could he deny her? Especially when her eyes turned glassy before tears fell down her cheeks. Her head tilted to the side, baring her neck to him. A soft, vulnerable "please" echoed from her lips.

Despite having her legs over his shoulders he leaned down, folding her in half as he locked the sweat from her neck. Just that little had her clenching around his length and he was left to wonder how it would feel around his knot.

His hands held her in place as he snapped his hips into hers, sheathing his knot into her heat. Erotic moans filled the room but he couldn't let the moment slip by.

Teeth bore into her neck, biting down on the sweat slicked flesh until her flesh gave way. Despite the pain she clung to him, singing moans of his name as her heat spasmed around his cock, milking it as she climaxed dramatically.

A groan echoed in his chest as he came undone, head of his length pressed to her depths and filling her with his seed.

After the waves of his orgasm faded his teeth retracted, becoming normal again. For the moment they were still connected so he took to licking her neck clean of any traces of blood. It wasn't his favorite taste but instinct drove him.

"Giyuu?" Her voice sounded tired, likely from all the noises she had made that night.

"Yes?" He moved to hover over her, making sure she was okay despite his embarrassment. The guilt he would carry for hurting her would haunt him.

"Thank you." Despite her tiredness, she smiled up at him, soft and sleepy. Her arms then tugged him down to lay on her after letting her legs off his shoulders. Subconsciously she nuzzled him, mixing their scents together as if it were possible to do so even more than they already had.

He could get used to this.

#giyuu x reader #giyuu tomioka x reader #tomioka giyuu x reader #giyuu smut #kinktober #kinktober 2020 #Smut #citrus #giyu x reader #giyu tomioka x reader #tomioka giyu x reader #Kny imagine #kny imagines #kny x reader #demon slayer imagine #demon slayer imagines #demon slayer x reader #biznichwrites

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beauty-of-depravation · 3 years

Text

A Birthday with Loki

Written for @buckyssoldat happy birthday dear !🔥💜

Warnings : smut ! so obviously +18

Why couldn't you be attracted by the good guys ? Why couldn't you be attracted...by Thor for exemple ! nice guy, extremely good looking, funny and all. But nooooo, you never had any kind of physiological reaction around him, the one who made your heart beat travel to your pussy ? His brother of course !

You were a smart girl and this was your logic : if villain bad, why villain hot, conclusion, badly fuck the vilains, even if it went against everybody's recommandations.

And you've been trying to fuck Loki for ever !

It was your birthday party night, the room was filled with close friend and people you had trouble recognizing. You knew Tony being responsible for a party was a bad idea, he wasn't really good with the concept of "small"...

What made you irritable, was that you were fricking horny, and yesterday you ended things with the guy you've been seeing for the past couple of weeks, you weren't sad because it ended, you were sad because he was a fantastic fuck, but yesterday he has told you that the moon was a conspiracy and it didn't exist, and you thought "I'm not introducing this dude to any one"

It didn't make things better to see Loki charming every woman of the reception, going from one to the other, commenting and finding a clever compliment to apply to every and each one.

What would be an amazing birthday gift would be him fucking you.

I mean you loved the emerald hair pin he slipped on your hair before the party, but his hands on the back on you neck had left you craving more contact.

— here is the queen of the party ! The most beautiful woman here ! My dear, can i tell you that even the expression of dissatisfaction on your face looks like the most captivating art work.

— Always charming, you say rolling your orbs.

— of course dear, he say setting by your side

— Don't you have someone else to talk to ?

— i don't find anyone else then you worthy of my words in this party dear.

You don't reply. You secretly enjoy the company of the man. And quite rapidly, you are talking about everything you like, litterature and art.

— surprisingly, you have some good things to say for a human.

— Is that a compliment ?

— of course !

Your pout your mouth, and immediately notice that his eyes follow the movement, and stay focused on your carmine colored lips. You don't say anything, until he bring his gaze back up to find you looking up at him. You keep looking in each other eyes for quite a time, but then to internally moved by it, you look a way, and you can see that he likes that you couldn't hold it.

After a little while, his voice raises again.

— so ...what happened to that...misery of a being your were seeing ?

You roll your eyes for the sake of it, but chuckle lightly.

— we went each his own way. We weren't a match, he was nice but..

— he was stupid.

— no,he

— don't lie to me, I've seen dead fish with eyes expressing more depth then his.

— okey...okey he wasn't a genius. But he was nice, and cute and

— you deserve better, and it's me telling you that. I rarely think that highly of anyone.

— oh god, you say rolling your eyes at his never ending comments on humans.

— i love when you call me that, and you are so cute when you roll your eyes. But I'm serious you are worth more.

— maybe, but for now I'm worth my vibrator.

Fuck. How did that slip out ? You feel yourself blush furiously. And you realize that Loki has turned his head towards you at an abnormal speed. His eyes a bit wide. A bit dark. His lips a bit parted. A bit up turned.

— A vibrator ? Would the queen of the party leave her guests by there own to go take care of her carnal needs ?

— i mean ...i'm was going to wait until everybody is gone.

— How gracious of you. But everyone is not to be gone until at least five in the morning.

— i...it can wait.

— you see, dear, at the way you are shivering, and blushing, and the way you shivered and blushed when my fingers flew over your neck earlier, i don't think it can wait this much.

You blush even more and you don't know what to say. Truth be told ...you could litteraly feel your body burning with desire.

After few seconds of silence Loki got up.

— If you want to have something that surpasses anything that you crave, leave those people, come to my room, I'll be waiting for your visit. Happy birthday, dear.

And with that he is gone.

You were delusional. That can not have just happened.

Dream or not you are doing it.

It doesn't take you any thinking to hop on the offer. It only takes you some drinks.

What is Loki, god of mischief, planning for you ?

Three drinks later, you are ready to find out.

***

— do you want to drink something ?

You rock your head right and left.

— tranquilize yourself, we are not going to do anything you don't want, but, knowing about your little... penchant, towards me, and having myself, an... inclination towards you, i thought you..

— you...have a ...i mean, you like me?

— Darling, the I've never been indifferent to you. And you've been playing with the charms around me. I'm not made of stone.

You feel yourself blush from head to tow and try to cover a silly smile.

— You noticed..

— of course i did, it was very endearing and a grate pastime. Now, are you sure you don't want any drinks?

— I'm sure.

— good. Regaining confidence, confidence is beautiful on you darling.

You smile and approach him, balancing your hips and slightly smiling.

He keeps his eyes connected to your, and when you are just inches from him, you out your mouth close to his ear and confess

— i loved the hair pin that you gifted me, and ...i loved it so much that i matched my lingerie with it. Dark green and black lace, would you like to see it ?

His voice darkens, deepens, seemingly erupting from earths foudaments.

— Strip.

The command fuses. And you take a step back, ready to obey it. As you rapidly attack the zipper of your dress.

he murmur :

— slower, darling.

Your hands travel your body, caressing yourself before slowly pushing the sleeves of your dress down your shoulders, and slowly unzipping it, caressing every bit of soft skin that appears to sight from under your arms to your hip. He now can see your beautiful chest in this transparent lace bra that fails to hide your hard nipples. you turn around, but keep looking at Loki from above your shoulder. Subtilty arching your back, you push the dress past your round ass, revealing your dark green tanga with two little black bows, one on the front one on the back, oranges with black pearls.

He is eye-eating you. Already devouring you without a touch. He slowly gets up, and still not touching you, with just his got breath and lips again your ear he says : «you're going to keep it, and I'm going to take you in this beautiful lingerie»

You don't have time to agree as he goes from not touching you at all to touching you EVERYWHERE at the same time. His hands are greedy and his long cold fingers send shivers under your skin. He is massaging your tits, groping your ass, caressing your belly, drawing the line of your waist, falling on the curve of your hips, worshiping your delicate neck. And all you can do is hold on to him, with a hand on his neck, pulling at his beautiful dark hair, and with the back pushed to him, you could fee him grow bigger against your ass.

Turning back you decide to take the lead a fiercely kiss him. Your tongues meet and fight. You taste and bite and Savour eachother, the kiss expressing a hunger that have been here for so long.

— I'm going to do you a big honor, dear, I'm going to get on my knees for you, and i expect that to be and stay your greatest birthday gift.

And with that he kisses his way down, until he puts one then two knees on the ground and is facing your already wet sexe.

— I'm so curious to see how much desire you have for me.

You are mesmerized by the vision, Loki, god of mischief, on his knees, for you, ready to teste you, what am I saying, to ravage you, admiring you like you are the most beautiful woman or the world. The first and last. You can't breath and can't look away, any shyness pushed far by your desire and need.

His fingers caress a bit harshly your slit, pushing on your clit and making you jump back a little, bit he is quick to grab firmly on the back of your thighs, and you know from the slight pain that there will be marks there, bit you also understand the need for such a strict hold because immediately after he is pushing the underwear aside and...well he doesn't do any work at half, he is going at it all heatedly, his tongue flat against you no teasing, right to the point.

Your fingers automatically find their rightful place in his hair, pulling at it and making him groan. His hands reache up, and grabbing at your ass cheeks, he pulls you closer to his mouth, making you grind your wet core on his face.

— you are the most flavorful precious little thing I've ever tasted. I love how you rock your hips against my face, are you close to your release ?

— yes, yes Loki keep going.

His skilled tongue goes back and forth from your entrance to the over sensitive point under your clit to the top nerves, going from simulating it from left to right to top to bottom, and clearly taking such a pleasure in doing that to you that the vision gets you off like no other and ton start to moan louder and shake.

— such a beautiful woman, cum on my tongue, show me how you like what I do to you !

And with few more methodical stokes of his tong on your clit you shake and cum, and if it wasn't for his firm grip you'd have fallen to the ground.

«hmmmmm» he groan, kissing his way back up, and kissing you deeply, making you taste yourself. That is the first time someone does that to you, and you feel so nasty and you deepen the kiss, curious to share what you taste like, you feel him smile against your lips, and as you start to unbutton his shirt, be stops you.

— the next time, did you forget that you have a birthday party to return to after that ? And i have to confess, i want to be inside you immediately, no time for undressing.

You push away the idea of going back to that party, and focus on "next time" and "inside you" while he backs you up into the bed than hugs and you turn you around so you are sitting on his lap.

You hear his zipper go down, and following every movement he is making, filled with lust and envy, your heat skip a beat as soon as his length springs free, you feel it hot and heavy on your inner thigh, and you have a hard time breathing, your walls clench and you can't wait to have him inside. You have desperate moans and your hips move instinctively, and your reactions seems to amuse him enough to tame the emergency of burying himself deep inside you, as he takes the time to slip his cock between your labia, teasing you clit, and you entrance.

—Loki please...

— oh ! —he take on a dramatic théâtral voice— How mischievous I am being dear, on your birthday night non the less, I'll leave the teasing for another night then.

And with that, he is balls deep inside of you. Ripping out a long scream from your throat.

Both his hands find their place on your hips, and guide them up and down his shaft, kissing along your neck, and Whispering praises in your ear “queen” “beauty” “gem” “inteligent” “passionating” those all are word he slips in your ear while pushing his cock as deep as it can reach, which is enough to banish your soul out of your body. He is breathy, and grunting, and his paraises are starting to make less and less sense as he is getting close to his release.

— I want to cum on you beautiful chest, love.

— Yeah ?

— yes, i want to know that you won't think of anybody else when we go back to that boring reception, you'll think of me marking you, making you feel good, offering you all the pleasure you'll ever need to receive.

He bucks his hips faster and faster, and with that sends you over the edge, you don't have time to recover, as soon as you open your eyes back he is pushing you on your knees and jerking off, grunting and telling you how beautiful and good you are, you can't get enough of the sight of him, head thrown back, stumbling on his words, his hand stroking his cock faster and faster, until strings of white Milky cum land on your chest. you look at that, pushing out your tits, presenting yourself to him, letting him mark and own you as he wanted.

***

— darling, says Loki, while presenting you his arm to put your under, taking you back to that party that seems way more interesting now, arms under one another.

It especially looked more interesting now that he has suggested that public sexe was an interesting concept.

#loki x reader #smut #loki smut #loki odinson #marvel #loki x yn #teasing

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quixotic-writer · 4 years

Text

Lustful Hunger

Request: for my darling @birdgirl1772 <3

Summary: You have never been satisfied with anything. Socially, romantically, physically, you name it. Q has always tried to prove himself, but you always pushed him away. At a wrap party however, you finally give him the chance to see if he can satisfy your cravings.

warning: smut ahead!

A/N: Haha! Suki is back in action! Thanks for being so patient guys, I have so many pieces, one shots, and chapters that will be released soon now that school has calmed down a bit ;)

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Another season wrapped up just like that and the after party was in full swing. Producers, camera men, comedy producers all had a drink of sorts in their hand as they all smiled and clamored over each other talking about the success of filming. Yet again, I was off alone on the side with a can of soda in hand unsatisfied once more with everything. Building such high standards for myself has proven to be far beyond damaging, conversations seem fruitless with others, friendships come and go like seasons, romantic relationships always seemed to fizzle like a match. I'm just…

“All by your lonesome again I see.” I turn and see Q taking a seat next to me with a can of beer in his hand and a smirk on his face. He readjusts the familiar hat atop his head and brushes stray hairs off to the side, “You’re a strange bird you know darling. You always seem so sociable one moment, and so distant the next.” I took a sip from my can and felt a cool draft graze my skin as he said the word ‘darling’ which caused the hairs on my arm to stand on end.

“Not feeling social I guess.”

“Not social? Or not satisfied?” My movements came to a halt and I felt my spine tense. He knew he had me trapped in the spider's web, open and exposed like a patient on a surgical table, I could see it in the way he smiled and the way his eyebrow flicked upwards. He tapped the side of his now empty can with the ring band on his middle finger, the sound was so quiet yet it seemed to overwhelm and intimidate me.

“And what makes you question something like that Quinn?” He lassod my interest, I turned my body to face him. It was my turn to pick at his brain just as he did with mine.

“They say the eyes are the window to the soul. You, my dear, rarely ever have a spark in your eyes. When you talk to others, I can see the gears turning in your head questioning whether the conversation is worth taking any further. You have judging, hungry eyes. Always searching for something better, perfection, but never being able to quite find what you’re looking for. You don’t have a consistent friend group at all, or friends for that matter it seems. And tell me if i’m overstepping, but lovers seem to come and go like the wind and I know it’s not them breaking it off.” He leans in a little closer and a sensation sends a fiery desire through my chest and a radiating pulse in my parietal lobe.

“What makes you so knowledgeable on my psychology? Sounds like someone’s a little too familiar with the scenario than he could be letting on.” I lean in just as he had, and before me were his deep brown eyes. I began recollecting all that I could on the man before me and began to see a pattern in the memories that I played in my head. “Tell me Quinn, could you be like me?” All he did was chuckle.

“Why do you think I love talking to you so much?” My smile fades and I grow slightly flustered. Everyone always made an effort to talk to me, but I guess out of all the guys and the crew, Q was the one I seemed to talk to the most. He always talked to me whenever he could. Whenever I made a judgement in my head and pushed people away, they usually would give up after two or maybe even three tries. Not Q, though. He seemed relentless and up for the challenge. He didn’t treat me like a prize to be won, he just kept talking to me in the most genuine matter as though his one true goal truly was just to get to know me. In return, I would do the same with him, and to my surprise got the same act thrown right back. It was like a taste of my own medicine and I never realized it, but I found myself subconsciously chasing Q just as he was chasing me. “Tell me, what does it take to satisfy a girl like you then?” He said it in a low tone, it seemed like a command to tell him rather than a question. I swallow hard, I haven’t had any alcohol tonight but he has me feeling as though i’ve had more than enough to drink.

“What’s it to you, Quinn?”

“A question isn’t an answer darling.” The way he dominated the conversation made my thoughts wander to what else he had in store for me tonight. The tension was thick between us, you could cut it with a knife. I bit my lip not knowing whether I should give him the fulfillment of all of my flesh driven desires. What did I have to lose?

“As far as friends go, I like honesty and depth. It’s not easy finding that when all people do is use you to get to the people you work with. So I keep my distance. My family and you guys are my friends, don’t need much beyond that.” I smile at him and look at all the crew members paying no mind to myself and Q. It felt as though this conversation should be kept away from nearby ears, so I planned to keep it that way. “Relationship wise, many boys have come and gone in my life as you can see. But that was the problem, they were boys, not men. Sure, they could grace me with a promising conversation, treat me with respect as anyone should, give me physical intimacy. I could give them the same because in a relationship it’s like teamwork, you build each other up in ways you can. But when I wanted more, I noticed more and more that they wouldn’t be able to satiate my needs. They grew selfish with their love, they only cared about their own satisfaction and happiness, so I would leave.” I played around with my empty soda can on the counter, tracing the rim of it with my fingertip and tapping on it with my nails as I spoke.

“Absolute man eater, left a string of broken hearts behind you.”

“You got quite the track record yourself. Don’t act so innocent.” A guilty and sinister smile tugs at the corners of his lips. Q was always seen with some new girl every so often. As soon as they popped into his life, they seemed to disappear just as fast like it never even happened.

“Guess I've had my fair share of rounds. Have an insatiable hunger myself that some just couldn’t quite appease. Broke a few hearts along the way and had mine broken a few times, but I pick myself up and keep moving forward.” He raises a can as a means to toast his own statement as he brings it to his mouth for a sip, tilting his head back to get each drop in. There was something in that action that made me salivate slightly, the way I caught a glimpse of his adams apple bouncing as he drank, the tendons in his neck so clearly visible. My eyes diverted over to his arm, his ‘quixotic’ tattoo just barely visible and half covered by the sleeve of his t-shirt, his bicep slightly flexed just enough to allow filthy visuals to flow in my head. He slams the can down onto the counter top and lets out a refreshed exhale past his lips.

“How hungry are you, Quinn?” Our chairs seemed like magnets, we kept getting closer to each other. I felt the passion ignite inside, a desire to challenge the willingness of the man that was sitting before me. Our faces were inches, no, centimeters away from each other as we began leaning in close to each other. I could smell the beer on his lips. I took a plunge into the pool of lava that coaxed me into the deep end. Our lips were connected, and he tasted like the stinging electricity of promise with the lingering aroma of alcohol. With an arrogant smile on his face and a look of passion in his eyes, I knew this was only the beginning. “Wanna ditch this party?”

“Only if you give me the pleasure of finally showing you what satisfaction feels like.” I didn’t need to say much else, we made our stealthy exit and decided on his place as our final destination. I couldn’t tell if he always drove as though he was in a terribly fired rush, or he just couldn’t wait any longer and I managed to flip a switch inside of him. I already felt myself grow wetter as the seconds passed, the unpredictability of Q left my imagination working over time to create an endless web of scenarios that could play out. He guided me through the front door and once he had the door closed behind him, he had me pinned against the wall and our mouths collided. Our lips moved in sync and I felt his tongue slowly protrude into my mouth, I willingly allowed its entrance and allowed my tongue to snake around his. My hand wandered to the zipper of his jeans, I rubbed an open palm against him and felt the bulge in his pants. Instinctively, his hips jerked into my hand and a moan exudes from him.

When he pulled away, I attached my lips to a new area of flesh. His neck. I sucked hickeys onto the skin as he slowly guided me to his bedroom, stumbling against walls humming at each new sensation that felt like an intense wave of pleasure. When we finally made it to the bed, I fell onto my back and sank into the soft cushion of the mattress, there he was with lust glazing his eyes and swollen lips in a devilish smile. I help him take his shirt off and I gently rub my hands against his now bare chest. His hand slips carefully up my shirt, cold fingertips dragging up the warm skin of my stomach as he smothers into the crook of my neck, my back arches up aching to feel more of him against me. All our clothes were discarded off to the side without a second thought until we were left in nothing but our underwear, his boxers were tented, and my panties were soaking wet.

“Brian. Please, touch me more.” I sat up against the pillows and he was between my thighs, leaving dark hickeys all over my abdomen. He pulled away and smiled with a darkness in his eyes.

“I want you to pleasure yourself for me.” My eyes open up and I look down to him confused. “I want to see what makes you feel good.” He repositions himself on the bed to lay right next to me. For his odd request, I was determined to put on a show just for him.

I look down at my bare body and trace my hands carefully along my thighs and let out a shaky sigh at the feeling. My hand dips into my panties and I drag my middle finger into my soaking wet folds and hum at the slow, trained movement. I bring my middle and ring fingers to my lips and generously coat them, tasting my own juices on them as I moan and bring them back down to my entrance and slowly push them in. My eyes close and I start off slowly, carefully sliding my fingers in and out of myself.

“Tell me what you’re thinking of darling. What in your filthy mind are you imagining that’s making you so wet?” His voice is low and his breath was hot against my ear. When he spoke, there was a baritone rumble that scratched against his throat in the most breathtaking way.

“Thinking of what you’d do to me if it wasn’t my fingers making me feel so good.” I gasp and take my lower lip between my teeth. I hear shakily breath next to me and he kisses along the side of my neck and I loll my head to the side to grant him more access.

“Are you thinking about what it’d feel like if it were my thick fingers pumping in and out of your soaking wet pussy. I can imagine already how you would tighten around them when I curl them just the right way and hit the spot that would force whimpers out of you.” As he spoke, I began to imagine it all. The way I know they would slip right into me because of how wet I was, I could feel how filling they would be and stretch me in ways my own dainty hands couldn’t. “You’re so fucking beautful like this, I can’t wait to see more.” My hands wander all over my skin that was igniting, I felt myself burning from the inside out as his words drew me in closer to my climax. “I can’t wait to just get a taste of you and have my tongue discovering each and every inch of you, fucking you with it until you release all over my face and I have nothing left to do but clean it up as you buck your hips as your climax fades away. I bet you taste as good as you look.” My fingers are working faster and my free hand finds its way down to my clit and I begin rubbing circles. My feet are planted onto the sheets of the bed as I feel my hips slowly begin to lift off the bed in desperation for more. “Then I can’t wait to just shove my throbbing cock into your tight little cunt, finally show you what a good fucking feels like, give to you pleasure no other man could ever get you to experience. Pure euphoria, and it will all be because of me.” I’m gasping and whimpering as I finally fall down into the pool of euphoria, a strangled moan frees itself from my throat as my hips buck into my hand.

“Holy shit…” I gasp as I finally come down from my high and open my eyes to see him sitting next to me with a satisfied look on his face. He grabs my face in his hands and kisses me rough and deep, I almost thought he was going to suck the soul out of me. He begins to trail down and down until he’s back between my legs and tugging at my panties. “Bri, what about you?” I say as I look at the painfully visible hard on in his underwear. He presses a finger to my lips and hushes me.

“No darling, tonight is all about you. Your pleasure is my pleasure.” He throws my underwear with all the other loose miscellaneous clothing articles and looks almost hypnotized by my bare core displayed before him. “Gorgeous,” was the last thing I heard from him before he planted a few kisses onto my clit, then he took his tongue and took a few long strokes from the bottom to the top very, very slowly.

“Oh fuck. More Brian. Please I want more!” I felt him smile against me as his tongue became more pointed, tracing all about my folds then sucking hard on my clit making me pulsate hard. His arms were wrapped around my thighs and pulling me in closer and tighter to his face. “God your mouth feels so fucking good on me Bri, you’re gonna make me cum again.” My eyes were rolled back into my head as I felt the heat building in my navel as Q focused in on my clit, lapping, sucking, and swirling his tongue all around it until I released all over his face. He finally pulled away, licking his lips, the scruff on his face was damp with my liquid ecstasy and it turned me on more.

“You’re so beautiful when you cum darling, the way your jaw hangs open, your pretty little whines, and watching your eyes roll back in your head is enough to make me almost blow in my boxers baby.” He crawls up to me and captures my lips, giving me just a subtle taste of myself. I finally unclasp my bra and it’s tossed aside just like everything else, it felt like a wave of relief. “Now, let’s get something inside of you sweetheart.” His fingers were now rubbing against my entrance and slowly he slid a thick finger into me.

“Oh shit.” I huff at the sensation. His fingers were without a doubt thicker than mine, and god did they feel so good. He watched each of my reactions carefulle, observing as my chest rose and fell with each movement of his hand. His head craned down and attached his lips to one of my nipples, swirling his tongue around it and taking my nipple between his teeth and gently biting it. “Oh my god Brian, you make me feel so fucking good, faster please, I need more.” My hips buck into his hand, he smiles and happily obliges and watches as his now slick fingers slip in and out of me at a faster rate.

“Baby, I can’t wait to fuck you until your legs are shaking and you can’t walk, can’t wait to feel your juices dripping down your thighs all because of me, can’t wait until I fuck you until you can’t speak anymore.” His lust filled words served only to push me further to another climax, being as sensitive as I was, it wasn’t all that hard. His fingers worked magically within me, hitting each spot that made my arch back and my lungs expel heated breaths of excitement. Words were slowly becoming hard to form as I was tipped over the edge without so much as a warning, only whines and moans were the only noise I could get out of me. As he helped me ride through another high, he roughly kisses me and grinds himself against my thigh, I smile against his lips and rub my hand against the tent in his boxers and feel a wet spot where the tip of his cock was. He groans and I see a wave of slight embarrassment wash over him as he sees that I know he came in his boxers.

“That’s so fucking hot Bri.” He lights up and smiles, I pull my lips close to his ear, “Now, I want to give you some relief. I want you to keep that promise and fuck me til’ i’m shaking.” I climb on top of him and grind my hips against his. His hands grab at my hips and his head falls back at the sensation.

“Your wish is my command, lovely.” He rustles through his night stand and grabs out a condom as I pull his boxers off his body and his erection springs to life outside of the confines of his underwear. He slips it on and lines himself up. I rub my entrance against the head of his cock and take my lip between my teeth in anticipation. “Sink down baby.” And I do. I slowly lower myself and feel as he stretches me wider and wider the deeper down I go. I feel tears forming in my eyes because this is all slowly becoming too much for me to handle, but I love it so much. “I can feel you dripping on my thighs already, you’re so wet, so tight, so perfect.” His hands smooth over the sides of my body and stop at my hips and give them a little squeeze. With a gasp, I begin to rise and fall atop of Q, feeling as he slips in and out of me in the most delicious way. My hands reach back to his thighs so I keep my balance as my hips work faster daring to reach another high.

“Q… Bri… Feels. So good… Fuck.” I gasp out as my eyes screw shut taking in the sensation of the sweat beading on my forehead and upper lip, the burning sensation in my thighs from cumming over and over, Q’s hands that keep wandering all over my naked body sending shockwaves through my nerves, and the feeling of his now slick cock inside of me. “I’m… So sensitive… Gonna…” My hips drop down as my legs begin to tremble as I cum once again, a strained whine being the only noise I feel capable of making. I feel my body begin to slow down and Q flips us over, laying me back on the bed and him hovering above me.

“One more time baby, just one more time. For me please.” He starts thrusting harshly into me, exuding a string of incoherent moans and whines as he sought to chase his own high. His hair was pressed against his forehead and face contorted in pleasure. Picturesque and beautiful. I had my hands placed on his shoulders and I felt as his muscles tensed with each groan. “Please baby girl i’m so close, look at what you do to me. I’m such a mess for you. God you feel so good. Just for me. All because of me. I’m gonna–” His rambles came to an end with a final thrust into me, it was enough to send me over the edge one last time and we both collapsed onto the bed, the cushioning of it cradling our now sore bodies. Heat radiated off of our skin, the steam of our body creating a sheen of sweat that coated both of us. My body felt spent beyond belief and it was a sensation I had never before experienced. Satisfaction. I look down and see him lying on top of me, head resting on my sternum, panting and smirking, neck and chest littered with an array of beautiful hickeys left by yours truly. I caught a glimpse of my own body and saw a similar display and couldn’t help but laugh.

“I think I can confidently say I have never experienced anything like that before.” I rake my fingers through his hair, pushing it off of his forehead and petting him like a sweet puppy. His fingers danced across my skin, giving me goosebumps.

“Would you say that your lustful thirst has been quenched my darling?” He asked in a hoarse voice. I hum in response with a smirk. “Good. It’s what you deserve… You know, I have never blown a load in my pants like that. Not since high school at least.” His eyes met mine and I felt my heart skip a beat in my chest.

“Guess tonight was just a night of firsts for us, huh?” We both laugh together and he leans up and captures my lips in a sweet kiss, but I push things a little further as I slip my tongue into his mouth. He quickly pulls away, cocks his eyebrow, and his lips curve into a smile.

“Are you trying to hint at something?”

“And what if I am? Can’t keep up Quinn?”

“At least take me to dinner first!” He says in an exaggerated tone and a hand against his chest.

“That can be arranged. I’d love that actually. For now, round two. It’s my turn to torment you though.” I say pumping his cock back to life with a devilish smirk.

“You’re on.”

#brian ''q'' quinn #brian quinn #q #Q x reader #smut #suki writes

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sunsoothed · 3 years

Text

perception

Vincenzo loves.

bi vinny! | rated t | 1.5k words | pre-canon, canon-divergence | internalised homophobia, self-discovery

read on ao3

enjoy!

It is when he is nine that he has the stirring, growing suspicion of something different. An ad on TV, and the commercial break cuts, and there is a man with another man. And they stand together, but Vincenzo’s mind registers together, and he thinks the shriveled, suppressed excitement within him is indicative of something too similar to pride.

And then Papa changes the channel, a click to his tongue, and Mama keeps her gaze carefully away, and Vincenzo recognises that this is something he’s too young to understand.

Too young to understand. Thirteen and walking home, when the seniors from school have a new curse to hurl at him. So this is what Papa wanted to say.

Bitterly, at the back of his mind, he indulges himself. Eomma would never say that.

Vincenzo never does find out, for an hour later broken glass will make it to his list of allergies, and a strong, clasping hand will settle on his shoulder; he will forget until Fabio makes him sweat buckets, and bleed buckets, and sentences him to a communal shower.

Vincenzo knows his early rising will be seen as dedication. It is only to hide his shame.

Aurelio is from the Abruzzese Familia that Fabio has been trying to establish reluctant ties with. Aurelio singles him out with a look too knowing. One brush of his arm over Vincenzo’s arm, one answering shiver, one grin thrown over a callous shoulder.

A bad seed has sowed in his near-perfect sustenance. Hunched over the sink in the washroom, water dripping down his face, Vincenzo takes in his acne-marred skin, shudders, and pulls out a paper-towel. Why must all these events line up? Eomma’s abandonment is enough to stir a caucus of self-deprecation within him. He doesn’t need to be seen any more than he is already. And now he has to go face a caucus outside of him, of the children he already feels so distant from.

Did Fabio really have to transfer him here at the dawn of fucking high school?

It is fumbling hands and breaths too short. That is how he would describe it. Their shirts are unbuttoned. There is no air in their lungs. Vincenzo grasps for breath, finds it in holding onto Aurelio’s upper arm, who, much like him, is disarmed of light.

They hadn’t gone far.

Vincenzo sits up, some energy in him, puts his back against the wall. He stares at his open shirt.

“Are you okay?”

He blinks. Aurelio’s already buttoning up, wiping the corners of his mouth. “Vincenzo.”

“I’m okay,” Vincenzo says. There is a fogging christening his senses. “I’m fine.”

Aurelio seems somewhat suspicious, but he’s not one to be caught up in other people’s affairs. He stands, gives his companion a cursory once-over.

“I’m…” he gestures to the door, one thumb protruding out, and Vincenzo can tell he’s itching to uncover the packet of cigarettes from his pocket.

“Go ahead,” Vincenzo tells him. “I’ll see you in a minute.”

Aurelio leaves wordlessly. Vincenzo, watching the door scream shut in increments, waits for the silence to clear the fog. Light remains absent.

He plucks at his lowermost button, runs his nails over the ridges formed by thread, and slowly begins to button his shirt. Halfway up, he holds something heavy in his throat. By the time he reaches his collar, his eyes are red with strain.

An air of smoke will hang around him for the rest of the evening. Vincenzo will purchase a lighter. He won’t smoke until he remembers this fateful party again, until he remembers Aurelio’s grip again.

It will be years later that Vincenzo finds, out of primal desire, a craving for something dangerous. Him and Luca have an arrangement. It is nothing more than convenience sampling and convenience persevering, but once he will sit up in bed and think, lover, and once he will bake in smoke until his head rings fuzzy and thoughts come and go without intervention.

Luca, of course, notices. They don’t talk about it. They don’t sleep together about it, either. But they don’t cook together that day forward, and Vincenzo bids his leave before the sky can turn the indelible shade of dark it sometimes does, and eventually, even the air they breathe melds back into the distinction of you and me.

Which melds back into the distinction of business and brotherhood, in such vengeance that Vincenzo will forget until, years later again, he will note himself in a particular dilemma and only think, lover.

Lover changes and snaps. But lover is markedly known to be sass and self-preservation, and loved is known to be devoted and coveted. Vincenzo sometimes demarcates lover and loved so much so that nights of clairvoyance, under a stranger’s roof, tell him: loved. So much so, that a trap easily avoidable, will tell him: lover.

He scrunches his nose, picks up his cigarette, and draws a Venn diagram.

When Hong byeonhosa-nim suggests seduction, an allowance for Vincenzo to be in his element for an act, for a case — to weaponise the one thing he’s kept between his coronary arteries, Vincenzo feels a cold elation.

If this was the Vincenzo of five years past, the one who had come to see his mother served injustice, he would have considered a hotel-room night with Hwang Minseong, conveniently conventional in his preferences, conveniently attractive, convenient enough to push buttons and to shut up.

But Vincenzo knows who Hwang Minseong is, now.

“You’re on board with this, then?” Hong byeonhosa-nim asks.

Vincenzo nods. “What’s the plan?”

He lets his fingers dance over Minseong’s hand when he hears about his mother. He knows Hong byeonhosa-nim is watching him critically, Mr Nam even more so, but he lets the words and his anger channel themselves in his bruising grip on Minseong’s forearm, in his request to spend the weekend together. Minseong will take his barred teeth as an invitation. Vincenzo squeezes his neck when he gets up to leave, and Minseong will take that as an invitation as well.

Hong byeonhosa-nim accosts him at night, dragging him to the terrace of Geumga Plaza despite the overcast hour. She presents him with a tetra pack of banana milk and nothing else, and declares, as they sit opposite each other, “You were very much in your element.”

Vincenzo, plastic straw in his mouth, only blinks at her. He knows what she’s talking about.

She nods, somewhat at par with his thoughts, takes a sip of her own banana milk. Observing the skyline, marking a line of pollution, she observes as well: “Takes one to know one.”

They sentence Hwang Minseong the way they know best. He won’t be lonely in his jail cell. He will, Vincenzo supposes, have to come to terms with himself and what overt pleasures he serves himself as a means to cope. He doesn’t feel sorry. He is not Hwang Minseong, despite what similar depth they carry.

Takes one to know one.

Jang Hanseo, over a shared serving of makgeolli. Before he picks up soy sauce to drink, he says, Vin-hyung, and Vincenzo knows what will proceed. He’s known since he caught Hanseo’s eyes trailing after him when they first met, a gaze all-too-familiar.

“No one can take this from you, Hanseo-yah.”

And cue: Hanseo’s hand stills, an image of dried sobriety. “What are you talking about, hyung?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” Vincenzo says. He nudges Hanseo’s bowl up, and Hanseo gets the hint, downing the makgeolli. “Don’t feel sorry for your desires.”

Hanseo splutters. “Hyung.”

Yeorim. Five years ago, in the dazed streets of Itaewon. Yeorim, he had been introduced. Vincenzo had admired the drape of hanbok upon him, light pink and white, a flower adorning the delicate flush of his ears. He had read Vincenzo clearly, and Vincenzo had read him clearly, and the one-night stay at the Hyatt had been, to Vincenzo’s best knowledge, read and forgotten clearly. Upon the appearance of cream fabric and a white flower, he remembered Yeorim.

Yeorim had prefered his pleasure face-down with a hand on the back of his neck. In the negative space carved between their bodies, Vincenzo, lightened beyond grief and the events of the day, had felt a strange, subliminal connection to his homeland, where he is still expected to run under an industrial daybreak and fend for himself apart from his people. How homely. How comfortable.

At the end of the day, it isn’t perfection Vincenzo seeks; it is completion. In a restriction of childhood bedroom, over the brilliant idea of makgeolli in bed, he encounters Chayoung confessing.

She hadn’t loved me, she explains. She hadn’t loved me because we were good friends who just so happened to, ah, find solace in one another.

Is that what she told her parents?

And Chayoung shakes her head. That is what she told me.

He makes spaces for her to wipe her tears in his bare shoulder.

How about you, byeonhosa-nim? I have reason to believe you’ve been popular.

Reason being?

Chayoung wrings her hands to make an awfully crude gesture, which Vincenzo takes great offence to, because engaging with him in any activity of the sort is anything but crude.

I have… my fair share of experience.

You sound ashamed.

I used to be.

What changed?

I loved, Vincenzo finds himself saying. And no love deserves to be shamed, Vincenzo finds himself believing.

#tvn vincenzo #vincenzo fic #vincenzo cassano #whovie writes

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twomoonstwosuns · 4 years

Text

studying.

back to you [series masterlist]

previous part · next part

pairing: professor!poe dameron x reader

warnings: so much smut (18+), fluff

word count: 3.0k

a/n: pretty much pure smut, not a lot of plot. also fluffy. i have not written smut like this before so i really hope it’s good and i hope you enjoy! feedback always welcome and so, so appreciated.

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Turned on was an understatement.

You couldn’t remember ever being so worked up. You had a pretty decent sex life, a better one since you started seeing Poe, which got even greater when you started dating and seeing him more. Being in a fight then being in a car accident, you were too beat up to do anything physical. It also didn’t help that Poe practically waited on you hand and foot whenever you were with him and was extra sweet and attentive. It made you want to jump his bones.

You were done being coddled. You were in the mood to be manhandled.

You would physically beg for it if it came to that.

Stretched out on Poe’s couch, you had your legs laid across your boyfriend’s lap with books and notecards propped up on your stomach. Poe stared at his laptop, tapping his fingers lightly against the top of the keyboard. He wasn’t reading anything or studying something. He was simply staring.

“You look bored,” you stated, glancing up at him. Poe ran a hand over his jaw, your eyes following every movement and craving the feeling of his stubble against your skin.

“I don’t know why I agreed to give a speech at this conference next weekend.”

“Because you’re amazing? Because you’re passionate? Because people actually listen to you when you speak? I could go on and on.”

“Go ahead sweetheart, keep stroking my ego.”

You nudged him with your foot when he shot you a wink. He knew he was good and passionate and that people listened to him. But he still felt very humbled when people told him that.

Poe shut his laptop and set it aside, reaching forward to finish his glass of water. You watched his shirt ride up just enough to see a sliver of golden skin. His neck bobbed as he swallowed the water and you gulped. God, you wanted him.

Then an idea came to mind.

“If you’re bored, you could quiz me. Help me prep for this test.”

“That sounds just as boring as writing a speech.”

You sat up, pulling your feet off of Poe’s lap and crossing them underneath you. “It is, but I can make it worth your while.”

Intrigued, Poe turned his body so he was fully facing you, his arm draped over the back of the couch. “How so?”

You smirked. “For every question I get wrong, I’ll take off a piece of clothing.”

Poe chuckled lightly. “And if you get the question right?”

“Then you’ll take something off.”

“And what happens when we run out of clothes?”

You shrugged innocently, your eyes hungry as you looked at him. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Poe considered your idea. It was a win-win for the both of you, though there would probably be a point where the studying would come to an abrupt halt.

“And actually you know what? We better make it every three questions I get right that you strip.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I’m going to get you naked pretty fast and then it’ll all be over.”

“I’m sure we can find something to do afterwards,” You bit your lip as Poe nodded towards your lap.

“Give me those notecards.”

Twenty minutes later, Poe was shirtless in his sweatpants and you were still dressed. You had moved from the couch, unable to sit still, and paced his living room when you had to give really in depth answers. Poe switched back and forth from your notes to the book, knowing very well that teachers often pulled questions from the book without specifying that it would be on the test.

“How many marketing functions exist?”

You knew the answer, but you were getting bored with studying. The sight of Poe lounging on the couch in just his sweatpants and the idea of even just curling up next to him was making you lose focus. One more right answer would have Poe down to his briefs and your thoughts would go back to being much less innocent. A wrong answer would have you taking off either your shirt or your pants. Poe watched you have your internal battle, his eyebrows raised as he waited for an answer.

“Five.”

“Seven,” Poe smirked. “I know you knew that one.”

“Guess not,” you said in a sing-song voice as you lifted your shirt over your head. The black bra you had on was a little dressier than other ones you had and certainly fancier than what was called for on a lazy weekend, but you woke up that morning with the desire to show off a little bit.

“Is that new?” Poe asked.

“Kind of,” you answered, suddenly feeling a little shy with the way Poe was looking at you. “It’s what I had under my dress after dinner with my family.”

Poe sensed your unease and beckoned you over to him, standing you between his legs as his eyes became level with your stomach.

“You’re beautiful,” he said as his knuckle ran over the few spots on your skin that were still tinged yellow. “You can barely see the bruises anymore.”

“Soon they’ll be gone and it’ll be nothing but a bad memory.”

Poe’s hands held your waist carefully as he pressed his lips to your stomach, the incredibly tender action making your heart pound hard against your chest. You brought a hand up to rest against his neck, fingers grazing the ends of his hair as his lips moved across your bare stomach.

He was so close to where you wanted him yet so far.

“Poe.” Your soft voice brought his attention up to you. Connecting your eyes with his, you leaned up and kissed him deeply, your tongue taking it’s familiar route inside Poe’s mouth as your hands rested on his shoulders. You gently bit his lip as you pulled back and his mouth twitched up into a dazed smile.

“What was that for?”

“You haven’t touched me in nearly two weeks.” Poe exhaled deeply and you shook your head. “It’s no one’s fault, we were fighting and then my accident happened so we never got our makeup sex.”

Running your hands down his neck, you gave his shoulders a short squeeze before continuing.

“I want you. So bad. I am wound so freaking tight right now that I’m about to snap. So I need you to fuck me and fuck me good. Please.”

Poe chuckled lowly as he stood up, his arms fully trapping you against him.

“Well now, how can I deny that request?”

He brought you into a hungry kiss, his mouth slanting over yours as his tongue invaded your mouth. You pressed yourself against him, your hands trailing from his shoulders down his chest to the band of his bottoms. You pushed his sweatpants down and kicked them away before disconnecting your lips and pushing him onto the couch. You slid your own pants down and straddled his lap, slamming your lips back onto his.

“You tell me if it’s too much for you, ok?” Poe said against your lips, slowing down a second to let you respond. You knew it wouldn’t, your healed body buzzing with a deep desire for him, but you nodded anyway as you rolled your hips down onto his. A satisfied grin crossed your face when he raised his hips to meet yours.

As he moved from your mouth to your jaw, his lips left trails of fire, sucking spots onto your skin with a message that said he missed this too. You captured his lips again as his hands kneaded your breasts through your bra, pulling one of the cups down and pinching your nipple with his fingers. He kissed the skin that spilled over and, as much as you loved it, the need for his skin against yours was too great. You unclasped your bra, flinging it across the room, and Poe’s lips attached to each area of your newly exposed skin.

You rolled your hips over Poe’s, his hardened cock pressing against you and rubbing the rough lace of your underwear against your clit. You palmed him through his briefs, his groan vibrating against your breasts.

“Holy shit Poe, I need you. Fill me up, please.”

Dirty talk wasn’t really your forte. You’ve begged Poe to fuck you before and you made sure to praise him whenever he did something that made your toes curl, but you didn’t often do anything more than that.

You’d have felt a little embarrassed by your desperate brazenness had you not caught the dark blown out look in Poe’s eyes as his lips detached from you and curled into a smirk.

“Say it again,” his voice low and rough and his fingers dipping down into your underwear. You whimpered as they brushed your clit.

“Poe…”

He lowered his mouth onto your neck, your pulse thumping widely against his lips. His fingers ran along your folds. “Say.” Kiss. “It.” Kiss. “Again.”

He sunk a finger into your core as he gently bit down on your collarbone, making you let out a breathy moan. A flood of heat coursed through your body and settled in your core.

“I--fuck Poe,” you whispered breathlessly, your walls clenching around his finger. He had stopped kissing your neck, instead watching your start to fall apart on top of him. “I need your cock. Filling me. Stretching me.”

Poe smirked as he kissed you. You released his cock from his briefs and he removed his fingers and twisted your underwear aside. Your eyes met his, both asking the same question: are you sure?

You waited for his nod before lining him up with your entrance and sinking down onto him, his length and girth the missing piece to your puzzle. He stretched you wonderfully as the ridges and veins of his cock brushed against your walls. You took a second to adjust before rising up and sinking back down onto him. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you as you set the pace, riding him faster. Poe’s hand slithered up your back, twisting it in your hair and gripping tightly. Your nails dug into his shoulders as a strangled cry left your throat, the sound of skin on skin filling the apartment.

“You feel so good, fuck you’re so tight.”

The exertion of riding him began to slow you down. With a bruising grip on your hips, Poe took control and began thrusting up into you. You could feel your stomach tightening, your hand clutching the one on your hip as you were blindsided by a freight train of pleasure. Poe thrusted harder into you as you rode out your orgasm.

After one particularly hard thrust, Poe held you still on his lap, kissing you like his life depended on it. He held you down on his cock and wrapped his arms around your waist, carefully maneuvering himself off of the couch and onto the floor. He pulled out and tapped the outside of your thigh.

“On your knees,” he breathed with a wicked smirk. Your body flushed with lust as you sat up onto your knees, running your lips along his jaw to meet at his mouth. He kissed you sweetly, his hand coming up to gently cup your cheek. Poe grabbed your wrist as you reached for his cock, stopping you and turning you away from him so your back was against his chest.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he said again, and your heart squeezed with how much he cared about your comfort. Still unable to form any coherent words, you simply nodded. Poe slid your underwear down, ripping them off when it became a struggle to get them off in your current position.

“Hey!” You laughed as he flung the flimsy piece of fabric aside. One arm wrapped around your waist to hold you in place as he brought this cock back to your entrance.

“I’ll buy you another pair,” he said as he slid back into you, his hips immediately snapping against yours as he kissed your shoulder.

Hard and fast, he was giving you exactly what you were craving. Every push of his cock against your sweet spot was heightened due to the sensitivity you still felt after your first orgasm and you knew you’d come again quickly. You leaned your arms on his coffee table, needing something to brace yourself against as he pounded into you.

“This what you needed?” Poe panted, bottoming out inside you. “For me to fuck you like this?”

“Yes--Poe, yes, just like that.”

Poe grunted as he felt his release creeping up on him. He squeezed the skin of your ass before his hand came down and swatted it. You gasped in surprise and Poe immediately stopped moving, afraid he might’ve gone a little too far in the heat of the moment. You looked at him over your shoulder, a half smile forming on your face.

“Do it again,” you whispered hoarsely. Poe pushed into you deeply, tenderly rubbing the reddening spot before smacking the same spot again. Poe smirked down at you as you moaned in absolute pleasure.

“Who would’ve thought?” Poe poked fun at you as he punctuated each word with a thrust, his cock deep inside you as he came. You couldn’t come up with a comeback as he smacked your ass one last time, his fingers then sneaking around to your clit and sending you over the edge.

The iron struck white hot in your belly as you cried out, your walls fluttering around him and your legs quaking. You fell forward onto the table, the both of you panting as you caught your breath.

This was what you both needed. Every apology, every ‘I miss you’, every piece of lingering frustration was taken out on each other.

“Oh my god,” you panted as Poe pulled out. He collected you against him and sat onto the floor with his back against the couch. You slumped against his chest, the side of your head resting against his necklace. Poe gently ran his hands down your sides, one hand intertwining with yours while the other lightly tracing the red marks he left on your ass.

“I hate you,” you giggled, squirming at the sting. Poe squeezed your skin slightly, pulling you closer into him when you squirmed again.

“You most certainly do not,” Poe poked the side of your stomach, causing you to giggle again. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a spanking kink?”

You blushed, hiding your face in his chest. He pushed your hair back to try and see your face.

“Come on, don’t be shy now,” he said, tilting your head up to see your cheeks red but a satisfied smile on your face.

“I didn’t know,” you admitted, laughing lightly. Resting your chin on Poe’s chest, you gazed up at him.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, a soft smile on your lips. Poe didn’t need to ask what you were thanking him for specifically. There were numerous meanings behind it and he knew each one. All he did was lean down and press a sure kiss to forehead and then to your lips.

“You want to order pizza?” Poe asked when he pulled back, wiggling his eyebrows. You snickered as you stood up, hauling Poe up with you.

“You do that, I’m going to go clean up.”

You were just about to Poe’s bedroom when he called your name.

“You know you’re going to have to help me write that speech now since you distracted me?” He smirked as he put the phone up to his ear.

You chuckled. “I know. Of course I’ll help you.”

“Also...did you retain any of the stuff I quizzed you on?”

“Yes, though I pretty much knew it all already. I kind of got a couple answers wrong on purpose.”

“I knew it.”

With a wink, you disappeared into his bathroom. You took a washcloth and cleaned up the mess between your thighs, looking at the bruises left behind and having a very different reaction than the last time you looked at bruises that were on your body. Throwing your hair up, you tossed the cloth into the laundry and dug in Poe’s drawers for a shirt and a pair of boxers. The jingle of Beebs’ collar grabbed your attention as he changed positions on Poe’s bed. Leaning on the bed, you scratched under Beebs’ chin, his eyes closing in content.

“Oh Beebs, I’m sorry we keep having sex in front of you.”

You scooped up Beebs, the affectionate pup licking your face as you brought him out into the kitchen. Poe was redressed and had grabbed a couple of beers out of the fridge.

“I think we’re scarring your poor dog,” you said as Poe came up and scratched his dog’s belly. “I’m going to get him a toy as an apology.”

“You don’t have to do that. Besides, he’s got enough toys.”

“A bone then,” you lowered your voice so Beebs wouldn’t get excited over the word ‘bone’. You smiled down at Beebs, rocking him slightly. “And I want to. Because you’re the best dog in the whole world who has the best dad in the whole world.”

You brought Beebs to the living room, setting him down on the floor as you picked up a rope toy to play with. You tossed it and watched him run after it, his tiny fluffy body jiggling with excitement. There was a knock on the door as you plugged Poe’s laptop into its charger and you glanced at the clock above his oven.

“That was, what? Twenty minutes? Impressive.”

Poe grabbed the door, looking back when Beebs let out a high-pitched whine just in time to see his dog launch himself at you.

“Toddler?” The pizza guy asked, highly amused as he glanced into Poe’s apartment. Poe shook his head with an amused smile as he stepped in front of the guy’s line of sight, knowing there were still clothes strewn around the living room.

“Hyper dog,” he said, giving the cash to the pizza guy. With a nod of appreciation, Poe shut the door and set the pizza on the counter.

You tossed the toy one more time before getting up and meeting Poe in the kitchen, trading a kiss for a slice of pizza.

You could get used to this domesticity.

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#poe dameron #poe dameron smut #poe dameron y/n #back to you series #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x reader

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orangegreet · 3 years

Text

No Minor Miracles | Chapter 5

War-Front Redux

A little reunion, a little madness, a little passion on the heels of a brush with death.

Aleksander saw the Inevitable now. He understood it. At least, partially.

When he grasped the tether that evening after hours spent collecting himself and setting his own expectations, it was with deliberate calm and confidence.

He pulled.

She didn’t answer.

He waited an hour but she still had not responded.

He poured himself a drink.

Standing at the window of his study, shoulders straight and head tall, he pulled again.

Minutes passed. Then several more.

No response. No twinge, even.

He swallowed the rest of his glass and set it down.

Cracking his neck to ease the tension, he straightened the buckles of his undercoat and then gave a real tug.

Nothing.

Nostrils flaring, his tossed the empty tumbler. It shattered in the fireplace.

Something flared inside him and looked around.

“…Alina…” his voice loses it’s commanding edge thanks to a wayward hopeful-uplift at the end of her name. He rolled his eyes at himself, his fingers rubbing against the skin of his forehead.

The raw and reopened hollow in his chest pulsed and he searched it for what he knew was also there. That imprint of her. Perhaps she would not come but her feelings were not as easy to hide away from him.

Could he sort out her emotions from his? He had never properly tried.

Seating himself back in the armchair he prepared to search the depths of his soul for the loose scraps of her.

He found an anger there. It was…odd to acknowledge. Anger he knew intimately, but the flavor of this was different. He could not place it.

It must be hers, nevertheless.

She was not coming.

He repeated this fact to himself over and over, forcing himself to come to terms with it.

The disappointment he felt was tempered only by his determination to meet her in a collected manner.

He resolved to give her space.

He tried again the next week. A hardy pull to the line as he leaned against his fireplace.

She did not answer.

Even if he tried he could not have stopped the whip of fury he hurled deep into their connection.

He burned for her to feel his displeasure. How dare she hide herself from him now?

She was hoping to drive him back into insanity, no doubt.

Aleksander forced a deep breath.

He would not succumb. She wanted to play him for a fool.

The continued silence he endured from her still had an added taste of her rage returned.

This was puzzling. Not having seen her for years—what could he possibly have done to earn this disdain?

Redirecting his efforts into war was reflexive. Months were spent wiled away on the war front.

The General was gifted in the field. The ability to think on his feet, to act with precision and merciless retaliation was honed by years of ugly lessons hard-learned.

His best ideas were born from the chaos of the destruction of battle.

It made sense that one such flash of brilliance would be sprung from this environment; his mind constantly worked in the background to resolve this issue with his petulant Sun Summoner.

How would he get the attention of a woman whose whereabouts were utterly unknown to him? One who refused to answer his commands and who responded to his displeasure with her own stubborn anger?

Pleasure. Raw and unrefined desire. Pressed into her very being by him. He would weave a Siren’s song into their connection and lure her to his side.

Honestly he was remiss for missing the obvious sooner. He had direct access to her emotions—enough that he could channel his own into her and light her up like a little lamp if he wanted.

She could ignore his summons as she pleased. Ignore his wrath.

She would not be able to ignore his lust.

It was a risk. Revealing the depth of his lust and his desire was admitting to an obscene vulnerability.

However, he had exhausted his options. He could not very well send her the debilitating ardor and affection he felt for her. She would hold that over his head for eternity.

He would not be dominated in that way.

A twitch of a manipulation to her emotions was not a bad concession. She desired him as well, anyway. Whatever ambivalence she wished to convince him of at this moment, he had experienced her craving for him in return. Had she not once gripped his hair to the point of pain while he drank from her trembling little cunt? He remembered with a surging heat through his body exactly what her lust-filled moan tasted like on his tongue.

This was simply a matter of reminding her.

In the safety of his tent and long after his men retired, Aleksander reclined on his bed.

Alina would not deny this, could not block it nor see it coming. She expected his rage, his resentment and wrath. She would not be equipped to guard against his lust.

He drew on the memories he had of her. Of her lips, of her fervor, her legs clamped around his waist, her thighs against his cheeks, the silk of her wrists enclosed in his hands when he pinned her to the forest floor and placed a tongue to her throat.

All those recollections folded into the same space which stored his future designs. The ones predicated on joining his body into hers and staying in her as long as he pleased. Stripping her down and filling her up again with himself, his body, his power.

Internally, he was accumulating his own ball of light as he knitted memory and fantasy into a single globe that cast tendrils of heat into his limbs.

The swell in his pants begged for attention but he ignored it for the moment, holding his concentration.

When he thought the thing potent enough, he released it, forcing it along his end of the tether and into their shared connection.

He did not need to wait long. When it hit her, he knew. The tidal wave of desire returned to him and on the heels of it, more fury than he had ever felt from her before.

Aleksander tugged. An incessant, needy pull at their connection.

She did not respond.

Under his direction, the Second Army took out camps across the enemy line, the Fjerdan permafrost was painted with wolf blood to draw out their masters and then drüskelle and Fjerdan soldiers alike were slaughtered with the ease of a plow anointing a field.

The dark mood harbored by the General made him vicious and on more than one occasion he left the confines of his tent to enter the battlefield where he personally ripped flesh from bone with disquieting pleasure.

Ivan and Fedyor monitored their General. Hesitant to challenge or even acknowledge the new state of his disposition.

Eventually the lack of intervention caught up with them.

The General, newly emerged from the blackened night with blood and victory splattered across his face, grunted in surprise as a Fjerdan wolf leapt from the shadow and latched to his shoulder. It was Ivan who stood in a panic-induced shock, frozen in place as he watched the attack.

Ivan, who lifted his hands to stop the beast, determined to crush the heart inside it’s savage chest.

Ivan, who in an inexcusable moment of complete ineptitude, forgot that his powers did not work on animals.

A sickening crunch came from the spine of his General before Fedyor stepped into the brawl to sink a blade into neck of the wolf.

Healers were called. The General lay quite motionless with a thready heartbeat. The wolf had snapped his spine and when the Healer knitted the bones back together, his eyes shot open.

Ivan watched as his superior stared into the empty snow beside him. He was muttering though Ivan could not make out the words.

After a few moments, his eyes closed again.

When the General woke, it was to a flurry of people around him.

Healers made their assessments, declared him mostly recovered and assigned him to bed rest. He fell in and out of sleep.

Ivan and Fedyor took turns keeping vigil.

Alina was there sometimes, sitting by his feet. His eyes closed.

When he opened his eyes next she stood at the end of his bed. He blinked a greeting at her. Something inside him warmed in her presence.

Though he could not keep himself awake. Again his eyes closed and he only hoped she would be there when he woke again.

A couple days passed before he had the stamina to keep his head held up and his eyes open. He found her seated on his bed, her hand inches from his.

At the sight of her, a smile twisted his face against his will.

He dismissed his lingering guests. Soldiers filed out, unsure if they should follow his orders given the state of him.

Everyone was gone save his sunbeam and the warmth was back. His eyes caught on her lips and he thought if he did not speak he might try to pin her down before she could disappear. He would capture her like a lightning bug in a jar and keep her as a trophy on his nightstand.

“My little Saint has come to call at last. Or…is this still a fever dream?”

He began to edge into a seated position and groaned. She glared at him.

“Are you in pain?” She asked.

He shrugged cautiously and adjusted his pillows for support. “Mostly healed now, I imagine. The rest will pass.”

When his eyes met hers, he found a fire in them. He could not hold her gaze; his brow furrowed.

He fiddled with his bed clothes, eventually pushing them off himself and stacking one leg over the other in repose, hands clasped in his lap to contribute to the picture of ease he was arranging.

“To what do I owe the visit, Alina?” He asked, business-like.

She scoffed. “You do not—I felt it, you fool. You. On the cusp of death. I figured I should come check you kept your pulse.” She spoke with derision in her voice. As if it was appropriate to arrive furious next to someone’s sick bed.

He sneered and looked away.

“Thoughtful of you to pay the courtesy then. However, I am very much alive as you can tell. If that is all, you can run along now—“

She cut him off, “In case you are too dense to pick up on this, I find your latest attempt to get my attention entirely deranged. I am disgusted by it.”

His composure dissolved into disbelief.

“My latest attempt?” He raised his voice at her, “You think I would cut my line at the edge of death just to lure you to my side?”

Her smoldering glare was unmoved. Plainly, she did.

“Am I so desperate for your company that I would gamble my life on a battle field in hopes that I could—what? Endure another five minute row with you across this—“ he gestured between them, “measly connection only to be abandoned by you for a few more years?”

Someone stirred at the tent flap at the sound of his raised voice.

He cast a wall of shadows around them, dense enough to muffle his sounds.

“Forgive me for thinking you would stoop to such depravity.” Alina stared at him, her tone dry, “Your prior attempts at getting my attention were quite dignified, after all.”

Then as if she could not stop the words from flying out of her mouth, “Constant attempts to pull me over, to force me to bend to your commands. And then when I did not answer—it was pathetic to think I would fall prey to some burst of carnal lust for you. As if what you have to offer me is so special.” The fire in her eyes flashed, “Your cock and your mouth are entirely replaceable, I assure you.”

He seethed through the sting of it. “Let us leave my cock out of it considering you have not yet sampled it yourself. And let it be known I tried appealing to your good sense and you would not comply. Was it so wrong to try and tempt your baser instincts?”

“I will not be called on like a dog. Beckoned to your side when you’re bored and looking for someone to torture.” Alina hissed.

He his anger tinged with confusion.

“I was not aware you found me so wholly undesirable. Forgive me thinking it, I must have been misled by all your physical advances in the past.”

She clenched her jaw and looked away. He thought he saw tears and felt even more bewildered.

Alina brushed her hands down her dress and began to get to her feet.

“Now I’ve satisfied myself of your survival, I’m leaving.”

“No.” Aleksander’s hand reached for her shoulder before she could stand. “Stay a little longer. Alina—”

She tried to yank out of his reach, her collar rolling away to expose her skin in the process.

His eyes caught on a cluster of yellowing bruises around her neck. Unmistakable in origin.

She stared at him with a flash of worry, pulling her collar back in place.

His breath seemed to have left him for a moment while his heart ramped up into a jarring pound.

He pushed a short breath through his nose, a rueful smile hung on his face. “Squirreled away a lover, have you? Adorable.” His tone was dangerous.

“You do not own my pleasure, Aleksander—”

“Enough of this. Whoever it is. Him. Her. I don’t care. End it.”

She doubled down, tipping her jaw up at him. “You do not own me, Aleksander.” She repeated.

“You gave yourself to me—“ He shouted, “You were made for me. I endured centuries waiting for you—“ They were both on their feet and his words were snarled as he shook her by her arms.

“I was made to be your balance,” she shouted back. “Not to be your pet. And centuries have done wonders for your maturity—behaving like a petulant child who sets aside his toy and then acts surprised that he’s lost it.”

Alina’s voice trembled with her anger and tears collected in her eyes again. “As if you remained some celibate monk in honor of me these last few years.”

He said nothing.

She shoved his chest, “Well? Have you?” She was screaming at him, eyes blazing and he was sure if they were together right now her light would burn him.

She pushed him again and he gripped her wrists. His chest throbbed and he squeezed his eyes shut against it.

Something clicked into place.

The pounding in his chest when he was with Inna for the last time. The pounding that was foreign to him after years of disuse.

Alina tried to jerk her wrists back but his grip tightened and he kept them, palms still pressed to his chest.

“Answer me—” she demanded, pushing him again where she had leverage.

Aleksander fell back a step. “You were there.” The change in volume made the words practically a whisper to her ears.

“Yes.” Alina growled at him, savage as the wolf who broke his bones, “Thank you, by the way, for inviting me to watch as you fucked some otkazat’sya woman as if your fucking life depended on it.”

Her breath was hot on his jaw even as he backed his head away from her challenge. “Was it good for you? Saints, you were desperate for it, I could tell.

“Then you insult me by trying to bring me back to you the next night after? You are pathetic. Petty.” She spat in his face.

He didn’t respond. He didn’t let her go. She struggled.

She could leave at any moment if she wanted. He tried to cling to the fact that she still had not left.

“Alina.” He held her palms to his chest with one hand and pulled her body into his with the other arm wrapped around her waist.

“No—“

“I swear I did not know. I did not mean to—”

She turned her head away and screamed again, “I don’t care I don’t care! I will burn you from the inside out when I see you again, Darkling. I will fill your eyes with the light of a noon-day sun and I will not stop until it comes bursting out of your mouth and scorches your tongue,” She promised. Her hands tried to conjure but he would not let go of her wrists and it would not work over their connection.

They both knew it would not work. She tried anyway.

“You will wish that wolf had snapped your neck and your back a thousand times over while I set your live body on fire with my power. You will burn up like a dry leaf and I will be the one who feels all the pleasure. Just me. Only me.”

Tears were streaking down her face and their eyes were locked and he did not let her pull away.

“I did not know, Alina—I would never have—” His voice was cooling to her temper and he kept a steady gaze on her, willing her to gentle.

The passion she contained never failed to surprise him. That she spoke with ease about eviscerating him should have unsettled him. Instead he found himself drawn deeper into her. The Light within her could strike him anywhere she pleased and he would reform again at her back. He would surround her greedily, his Shadow unable to do anything except press itself to Light. It could not detach. Shadow did not exist except at her mercy. He could accept this now.

“Do not lie to me, Aleksander. I saw with my own eyes. I saw how you touched her. I cannot stop seeing—”

“Wait. Please, wait.” His hand held tight to her wrists, keeping her in place as he crossed spotted his discarded kefta, still crusted with his blood. With a furtive glance at her, he reached for it and sorted through the pockets.

When he stood in front of her again, he held up the blue and gold scarf for her inspection.

“That is mine.”

He nodded.

She touched it and then dropped her hand.

“This means nothing to me. This is a distraction.”

He closed his eyes and sighed. “For a little while these last years, I did a thorough job of shutting you out. Letting you go again. It was not easy but it made not being with you more manageable. The day I called out to you—though, I swear I did not know that I did, this was returned to my room.”

Alina flicked her eyes to the scarf and back to him, distrust stubbornly clinging to her face.

“You must have left it in your room at the Little Palace. Seeing a real piece of you, proof of you after years of pretending you did not exist, undid me. What you saw—though I did not and would not ever have willingly invited you to view it—was me trying to shut you back out.” He shook his hair back and met her eyes.

“It did not work. Clearly. I will no longer pretend that it is a possibility, never again. You know what I am. You know what I want. I will possess you as I am doomed to be possessed by you and I will not be satisfied until I stake my claim for the world to see.”

Alina leaned in to him, eyes blazing in want as her fury was cooled by his words. He delighted in how quickly she whirled through emotions, delighted in persuading her.

“You will not skirt your punishment.” She said.

He leaned into her ear, pressing his lips there and whispered, “My punishment only promises your body will be next to me again.”

His hands wrapped around her hips. “I would take your fire and let it consume me if it brought you a hint of ecstasy.” Palms moved up her ribs and his thumbs brushed the sides of her breasts.

“There is nothing I would not do to bring you pleasure, Alina.” His lips moved to her neck. He grazed his teeth over her pulse.

His hands were closing in on her breasts; fingers long enough to curl around her ribs even while his thumbs circled over her clothed nipples. A soft moan fell against his chest. Her hands fisted into the black linen of his shirt and he smiled.

“You own my body.” He spoke into her jaw, “I will own yours and you will never want for anything.” Cheeks brushed against each other as she nodded. “I do not share, Alina.” Her hips pressed into his involuntarily. “I will keep you sated to the point of recklessness, insanity. This is my vow.”

His eyes looked into hers and as he sat on the bed, pulling her into his lap. The rigid peak of his clothed cock met her cunt and they both hissed. Aleksander watched as she rubbed herself over him in a slow slide.

He still had not kissed her. As if realizing it in that moment, Alina glared at him, grasping his jaw in her hand and reigning her lips upon his. Her hands kept his shoulders in place even as he fell back on the bed.

He matched her intensity, pulling at her face with his hand while his other adjusted her position back over his cock. The moan she exhaled into his mouth spurred him to lick at the seam of her lips until they opened for him.

They wrestled, rolling over each other a couple times before settling on their sides. Her hands explored his body and his sought the wetness between her legs and when his fingers slipped into her they shared a groan. Her mouth never left his. Aleksander pulled back only far enough to watch her eyes squeezed shut in blunt ecstasy while they panted.

She squealed and quieted and he kissed her lips and slowed his fingers, wiggling them in a test of her sensitivity. The answering smile was lazy.

When he brought his fingers to his tongue, she watched with half-lidded eyes as he made slow laps.

It was not prudent to tell him that she would have to re-do this orgasm when she returned to her body. She stored the memory of his fingers, covered in her slick and cleaned with his tongue.

The promise of insanity did not seem so objectionable.

“This is new.” He brushed his fingers over the glittering scales clasped around her wrist.

She blushed and withdrew her hand. He did not know for certain what it was but he had a strong suspicion.

“A gift, only.” She looked away from his eyes and kissed his jaw. The lie burned between them but he did not mind it. He played on her guilt, calculating that she would be reluctant to lie to him twice in a row.

“Alina, how is it possible that no one yet knows about the Sun Summoner? You bandy about using your powers—presumably anyway because rumors do emerge about you yet no one proclaims your existence with any certainty. It should not be possible.”

Alina shrugged with a secret smile and pressed her lips to his neck. “People believe what suits them best. You know this. The commoners want for a savior so rumors are born. Those in power want to keep it and therefore will not acknowledge a threat even when the evidence is delivered to their doorstep.”

It was casual, brisk even, the way she spoke of herself as a threat. Aleksander could not hide the surge of heat it brought on and descended to her ear where nipped and pulled like a hungry beast.

She laughed. A breathy, delighted thing and he smiled against her cheek. All else forgotten.

“Let me come to you. I need your skin against mine. I need your power twisted in with mine. I will have it.”

Her breasts pressed against his chest under the force of his hand at her back. The way her breath quickened was sign enough that she wanted it too. If that weren’t evident, the pull on their tether was so tight it was almost uncomfortable. His forehead fell to hers.

“N-not yet.”

He growled and she placed consoling hands to his face.

“We are dangerous, you and I. And I’ve told you before, I have business to take care of before I can come to you. I will in the end. I swear to you it is in sight, just…be patient for me. Believe me when I say you are mine and I am yours.”

A rumble answered from his throat as his nails scratched at her yellowing love bites. Placed there by some unworthy set of lips and teeth.

Her answering laugh was uneasy.

“They are nothing, Sasha. Nothing to me. You will see.”

He forced himself to change the subject. Even speaking of someone else, someone who had access to the taste of her skin began to spin him.

“We are dangerous? You said just now. Because of the threat we make to the throne. Because together we are the rightful rulers of Ravka. You do mean for us rule in the end?”

She glanced away and he smoothed a thumb through the crease in her brow.

“Not just threats to the throne, no. Not just rulers of Ravka.”

He waited while she weighed her words.

“We are a threat to the world. I am a threat…”

Aleksander watched her lips, waiting for her to continue. She looked small and fearful.

He imagined her as a child, waking in the night from a bad dream.

“I have felt it…when we were together. The only time we were together,” she amended, glancing at him apologetically.

“Within my powers—when they mingled with yours, it was like…like a kind of certainty that if I wanted—” She twisted her face to look at him with the full force of fiery gold eyes, “If I wanted, I could break the whole world open.

“Split everything and everyone and the whole of the universe apart until all that was left was Light and Shadow. Just us. Left in the quiet of it all.”

His heart was racing.

Or perhaps it was the tether vibrating on the frequency of a humming bird's wings?

Both of their breaths became heavy and they sunk closer into the empty space between them.

Alina’s eyes rested on his lips and her voice was breathy again.

“It is ridiculous, isn't it? Thinking I could do that?”

He shook his head, surprised at his inability to string coherent words together.

“Not if you want it, no. If you want it, then it is simply a fact. A truth.”

“It is not what I want.” She whispered.

He nodded in understanding, sinking further into her.

“Is it what you want, Sasha?”

A smirk twitched on his face and then he claimed her mouth again. When he pulled her body over his, running his hands over the backs of her thighs as they opened around his waist, he thought he would not mind it.

If centuries of walking the earth taught him anything, it was how expendable everyone and everything could become, given enough time.

Her Light was creation itself. It lit up within him because where there was light, the shadows would cluster around it; to smother or to worship, he could not be sure. Though he knew it was her Light that began it all.

It would be fitting for her Light to finish it.

His little Sun, expanding around him, swallowing up the whole of the universe in her Light then falling back on him where he could surround her like a cooling Shadow shroud until she decided to burst forth to create something new again.

#darklina fic #darklina fanfic #darklina #aleksander morozova #alina x aleksander #alina starkov #smut #power dynamics #politics #angst #mutual pining #the grisha trilogy #grishaverse

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black-streak · 4 years

Text

Waiting for the Worms - Goodbye Blue Sky

Part 10

Extra long, late Christmas gift. Warnings are always in effect. I'll leave it at that.

CLOSED list of friendly people: @northernbluetongue @thethirdwheelfriend @shizukiryuu @theatreandcomicfreak @michellemagic @karategirl119 @moonlightstar64 @my-name-is-michell @mystery-5-5 @zalladane @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @miraculousdisapointment @dorkus-minimus @jardimazul @allthebooksandcrannies @g-arya @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @persephonescat @mycupisbroken @luciferge @18-fandoms-unite-08 @dawnwave16 @alwaysreblogneverpost @kris-pines04 @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @weird-pale-blonde-person @you-will-never-know-how-i-think @kokotaru @naclychilli @slytherinhquinn @clumsy-owl-4178 @ladybug-182 @darkthunder1589 @evil-elf16 @dast218 @lysslovsanime @emilytopaz @naoryllis @iloontjeboontje @thepeacetea @danielslilangel @finallyaniguana @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @vixen-uchiha @yuulxd @bleeding-heart-romantic @magic-inthe-stars @st0rmy-w1th1n

~---~

The moment the door creaked open, Marinette woke up, shifting towards the source upon recognizing its pattern. Damian stopped misstep as their eyes met, then proceeded to edge closer until he could sit upon the edge. They sat silently watching one another, Marinette's tired mind not fully functioning in her sleepy state now that the intruder was blatantly not a threat to keep track of.

The boy faced away from her, muscles tense and trembling ever so slightly. He twitched as though he wanted to turn around but aborted the attempt before it could even begin. His fists twisted up in the sheets at his side and he seemed to brace himself for something. Haze lifting a touch, she realizes she needs to bridge the gap herself this time. Normally he came to her in his own time, but just showing up in her room in the middle of the night told her how much he was already meeting her halfway; even if he needed something from her and not the other way round.

Reaching out, shuffling the sheets in warning, she rested a calloused hand on his wrist. His attention snapped over to her, head whipping over his shoulder and eyes locking once more. Only this time, he stayed close enough for her to see the shine to his eyes, fear hiddened in the depths.

"Damian?"

He huffed a breath through his nose, staying silent otherwise, not moving closer nor creating distance between them. Deciding he probably wouldn't speak on the issue in this mental state, she tugged softly at his wrist, shifting to the other side of the bed and lifting the bedding on the now opened side, keeping her grip on his wrist gentle enough to ensure he knew he could escape at a moment's notice with no resistance.

"Come here, little one. Sleep."

His face pinched up as though to protest only to soften into a confused little pout, "No questions?"

"None."

He eased up, padding further onto the bed and settling beside her, relaxing as time passes. Marinette maintained a foot and a half of distance between them, refusing to crowd the boy or make him uncomfortable after he came to her. She knew he craved attention and affection, likely touch starved throughout the last seven years, but knew Damian needed to decide for himself if that was something he wanted from her. Despite calling her family, Marinette knew she would need to tread carefully to not break that fragile trust, letting him decide if he wanted her as an older sibling, parental figure, or distant cousin. So instead of cuddling the distressed boy as her instincts screamed for, she turned away and listened until his breathing settled before slipping back to sleep herself.

...

Their plans started to take a new depth, Talia starting to speak more in places and times instead of abstracts, referring to several upcoming missions or events in which opportunities might present themselves and how to take full advantage and slip away.

She stressed the importance of not informing her when they decide to leave and where they'll end up.

The decisions laid out before her, Marinette mapped out every instance and possible outcome, taking the easiest routes and simplest plans and immediately scrapping them. Too easy to track. She also scraped any idea that seemed overly complex. Overactive imaginations such as Ras' would immediately think of the most intricate and convoluted plans and follow their leads. The distraction or escape itself mattered less than the journey afterwards, when the league would attempt to hunt them down to reclaim their heir. She wanted a middle ground. Something complex enough to throw them off of any path, but easy enough to not hit their radar.

The thought hit her in the middle of the night, Damian snug on the other half, having entered some time ago. Looking down at the child, she knew where they would go and how.

The next day, she waited for Talia in her rooms. When the woman entered, she waited until the door locked to speak.

"I've figured it out."

"Jason, what did I-"

"I'm not here to tell you any details. I'm just informing you that our departure is prepared for. And to say goodbye. You can't know when we'll disappear, meaning the loss of your son will blindside you as well. So I'm telling you now. His ties are broken, he won't come back, he will never feel the need to return. I'll keep him safe though. I'll remember your love and sacrifice. It's going to be okay Talia. You're doing what's best for him."

"I know," she gave a small smile, broken in the corner. With that, Marinette left her alone, knowing there was nothing left for them to say. The woman knew how grateful she was for this second chance at life. For the training and education. The trust and care. The connection to the world through her child.

The next morning she found a bag hidden in her rooms, filled with supplies and multiple currencies of cash, along with access keys to multiple unattached drop boxes across the world. Child support, she thought to herself with a huff of laughter.

…

The two had just returned from a particularly terrible mission, where Damian had made his second kill and she had taken some gruelling measures to protect the kid and prevent his needing to step in further.

When Damian entered her room that night, it seemed less for his own comfort and more for hers. As though he sensed how distraught his killing made her. He was too young and raised too harshly to understand why, but knew that it upset her and wished to soothe the gloom looming over them. If she had to guess, that probably contributed to why he avoided the act when out on the field. She took matters into her own hands, killed when the situation called for it and sometimes when the madness echoed a touch too loud, but she couldn't stand the thought of the little one becoming a killer.

Huddling amongst the sheets and feeling his tiny hand press between her shoulder blades, she decided the time to inform Damian had come at last.

"If I said we could escape this. The trainers who hurt and demean you, the woman who disowned you, the man who cares only about an heir and not the boy behind the title, would you want that?"

His breathing pattern threw itself off just a touch, a sign of his surprise, "What do you mean?"

"The League. Talia, Ras, everything. Would you want to escape. See the outside world, decide for yourself who you ought to be, instead of just becoming what they want. Stop being used."

"That's not an option though," he countered, tone cautious.

"Why not?"

"Where would I go? How? Nobody escapes."

"We could. I've spent enough time as Talia's pet to know how to evade anyone here. Watched and listened in to enough to know how Ras thinks. And you? You grew up here, you must have this place memorized like the back of your hand. Know the patterns and inner workings of its people. We could escape, together."

He stayed silent, hand wrapping into the back of her shirt subconsciously where it lay.

"And once we're out?"

"I grew up in the outside world, I know where to go, how to survive."

"You're saying I'd have to trust you with my life."

"I'd be trusting you as well. I'm trusting you now to even ask this," she mentioned, drawing attention to how risky bring up an escape plan to the heir of the Demon's Head truly was. Showing her trust in him to ease the fear of putting his life in her hands.

"And if we were to escape successfully, I'd be free then? To make my own decisions like you said?"

"With some moderate supervision," her voice betrayed her amusement at his prodding, "I'm not going to distance myself from your upbringing like they did, but I'm also not planning to micromanage your life. Just enough to keep you safe and guide you through the outside world. Does that sound agreeable?"

"I could live with that," he surprisingly sounded pleased by the notion instead of putoff as she had originally expected. She hummed in contemplation and fell silent for some time before feeling a tug from the hand still at her back.

"Jason?"

"Have a bag ready at all times. We'll need to leave at a moment's notice."

Damian fell silent, but she felt the way his hand relaxed it's grip at her, his quiet sigh all she needed. He would be ready.

…

Only a week after their conversation, an opportunity presented itself. Whether Talia played a hand in it, she didn't know, but either way, Marinette was not about to look this gift horse in the mouth.

The two woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of chaos. Screaming came from outside, the crackling of fire and clang of metal hitting metal in the distance. The city was under attack.

Marinette pushed Damian to the edge of the bed, urging him up and grabbing their bags from hidden compartments around the room, throwing a change of clothes to the boy and grabbing her own, shoving armor and her mission clothes on, knowing the boy was doing the same somewhere out of sight. Soon, they were back in front of each other, Marinette adjusting his one small bag onto his back and carefully strapping the rest to her own before handing his katana over, bending down to look him in the eye.

"If it comes to it, don't hesitate. Your life is way more important to me than theirs. They will aim to kill you. I won't let them. But if someone gets past me, protect yourself."

"I know."

"Promise me. I don't care how much you think it upsets me. Promise me you'll do whatever it takes to make it out of here."

He looked down, lips twisting and brow furrowing before he met her eyes and nodded, "Promise."

Nodding, she led the way out, bladed staff at her back, knives in hand. By some stroke of luck, most of the fighting stayed some distance away. Happening upon a small crisped body, unrecognizable, she pushed Damian forward, grabbing a small blade off him as he passed and pushing it into the crumpled hand of the dead, pushing back fear at her own lack of respect for the dead. Now was not the time for a crisis. Looking up, she met his confused eyes, gesturing to the body size and pointedly looking him up and down. Realization struck and he nodded back. She wanted them to assume he died in the attack. As she headed towards a tunnel up ahead, he tugged on her wrist, leading her another direction. She gave a questioning look, but followed upon his insistence. As they turned another sharp corner, a body hit hers. She rolled with it, seeing another approach Damian and throwing a knife with perfect precision into the would be attackers neck as she hit the floor, her own now straddling her stomach. Before she could even start to fight back, a flash of silver crossed above her and blood rained down, covering her as the body dropped heavy on top of her. Shoving it off, she rolled onto her stomach and into a crouch, dragging her arm across her face and looking up into Damian's wide eyes, katana dripping blood in his hands. Clearing what she could from her face, she stood up and put a hand on his shoulder, turning him away from the scene and internalizing the moment to panic on later. She yanked her knife from the neck of the other and picked up their pace down the hall once more, urging him to take over directions again, not knowing his escape path and glad for the distraction it offered him. Turning down another path, Marinette caught sight of the carnage down a separate hallway and rushed them along faster. Damian pulled off the path into an alcove and shoved at the wall until it gave way to another blocked off path. They took the time to reset the wall to cover the path once more. At this point, she took out a glowstick, snapping it and allowing the acid green to light the way.

At some point the path turned upwards and continued winding for another mile before letting out into a basement. Deciding not to tempt fate, they changed into civilian clothes and made their way out of the abandoned building. From there, they set off for the next city over before taking one of many sets of airline tickets shoved into the cash bag courtesy of Talia and flying out. Arriving in a new city, they rented a hotel room and burnt the remaining tickets.

The next week followed the same pattern. Buying bus tickets and airline tickets under different IDs, some stolen from other league members, some falsified and placed in the bag weeks before with no one the wiser.

By the end of the week, they reached their final destination. Gotham City. The last place anyone would expect Jason to run back to. Renting an apartment was easy enough, Talia and the league having been very thorough in teaching how to falsify documents, the former having taught her personally, the latter having taught Damian.

Around this time, in a dingy, inconspicuous hotel, Marinette broached a rather difficult topic.

"Damian, you need to decide who I am to you before we move forward."

"Put me down as-"

"Hold up, I'm not finished."

He huffed at her interruption, but gestured for her to continue.

"Do you know how Talia came across me?"

"You were a dead boy who came back to life and dropped into a coma. She took you in and healed you in the pit. You were connected to someone she cared about once."

"Have you heard of Batman and Robin?"

"Yes? I don't see what this has to do with anything."

"Jason was Robin. I was killed by the Joker, sat in a grave for something like six months in a dead body. It came back to life and I clawed out of that grave and to a hospital where I was indeed in a coma for a year before coming back and being found by Talia."

A contemplative pinch in his forehead showed up as he thought on her words, "You said Jason was Robin. But you died. What does that mean?"

"This is Jason's body, but I'm not Jason. I'm his soulmate. I died for him and the connection was lost. I've never been Jason, in all the time you've known me."

"Why are you telling me now?"

"You deserve to know exactly who I am before you decide anything. Especially anything pertaining to my guardianship over you."

"But I know who you are. What body you inhabit means nothing."

Marinette felt a tiny smile tilt the corner of her lip, "All the same."

"But… Out of curiosity, what's your real name?"

"Marinette," the name fell heavy off her tongue, foreign and harsh after nearly three years without use.

"On paper, you'll be my older brother, Jason, who gained full custody over me upon the death of our parents."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. In reality, you're my big sister though. Alright?"

"Alright. Mind if I take some liberties with the paperwork?"

Narrowed green eyes seemed to assess her for only a moment before he nodded and moved on to the next piece of legal work. The fact he could understand the jarbel on the sheet still caught her off guard at times. Shaking her head, she made a few adjustments on the electronic documentation, saving the work and erasing any trace of proof of her having hacked the system. Having her own laptop was coming in handy.

With their identities secured, she rented their new place and had them moved in within three days.

While their cash wasn't even near dwindling, she began her hunt for work. Her first instinct was to return to design, but after so many years, the idea of designing clothing with no real purpose no longer held its appeal. Hopefully something would come her way soon.

…

Their first night in their new home, Damian crawled into her bed with nightmares from the night of their escape. She certainly felt the terror of that night in the back of her mind as well.

"I'm sorry," the seven year old murmured, hunched up as though expecting anger.

"What for?" She whispered, rubbing the sleep from her eyes while turning towards the small voice.

"I didn't listen. When we escaped. You told me only to protect myself."

"You did protect yourself."

"I also protected you. You probably didn't even need my help, yet I killed that man before you could."

"I told you to do what you deemed necessary. Could you think of an alternative option?"

"No… they wouldn't have stopped until one of you were dead. He had to die for us to escape."

"Correct. While I wish that blood wasn't on your hands, his death in that moment was inevitable."

"You are still upset though."

"I would be upset either way. You shouldn't have to witness such things. But I'm glad we're both safe and that's what's important. That you're okay and neither of us will be put into such a position again."

"Do you resent your soulmate? For putting you through all of this?"

"No. Never. I chose to die for him. I chose to take every hit the Joker intended for him. I chose to take his place in the horrific life fate planned for him. He fought me in those last moments, you know? Tried to force his way back into his body. He didn't want this for me either. But I got a second chance. I've learned so much. I got you. And he's safer, wherever he is."

"You love him," he stated.

"I love him," she agreed easily.

Silence fell over the room and Damian shifted closer until he could snuggle right up into her side, holding a tense position until she wrapped an arm around him and whispered a soft goodnight. With that gentle acceptance, he immediately softened in her hold and fell into a restful sleep.

…

Around eleven in the morning, she woke abruptly to a yanking sensation in the back of her mind. Stumbling out of the room, she pushed over to a bar stool in the open kitchen, collapsing onto it and leaning on the table before promptly blacking out.

#jasonette #maribat #ml x dc #WFTW #part 10 #im not thrilled with how this turned out?#but im also not sure if I could have written it any differently #the past tensed third person static perspective I gave this whole story is kind of weird #oh well #works so far

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kyra-bane · 4 years

Text

the old guard - kinktober day 7 - make your choice

rating: explicit

pairing: joe x nicky; andromache x quynh (very background)

prompt: sharing a bed

extra tags: PINING; pre-slash; pre-canon; mutual masturbation; jealousy (only a bit tho)

word count: 4058

notes: this one was requested by @gentlesleaze and i hope you enjoy it!! follows on from across the fire, which follows on from (not) sight unseen - this mini-series should be wrapping up with prompt 26 😏

read on ao3 or keep reading below

It is all getting a bit much for Yusuf.

He had thought, after the first time, that Nicolò would insist they should talk about it, that he would be so riddled with guilt that he would be able to do nothing else.

Only, Nicolò had not said a word. He had been gone before Yusuf had woken for fajr and had returned after, hair damp, his smile soft. They had not spoken about it that day and Yusuf had thought about broaching the subject when they lay down to sleep that night, but that had not seemed like a good time, either.

Instead, he had waited.

And waited.

And then when he had worked himself up again, which was entirely his own fault, of course (though he cannot help it; his eyes are drawn to Nicolò’s strong hands, to the way the muscles in his arms tighten when he swings his sword, to the ever-shining light in his eyes), he had excused himself one night, like before – and, like before, he had heard Nicolò’s hitching breaths along with him.

It has been six months since that first time and now Yusuf is lying on his back, hand on his cock, and his grip tightens when he hears Nicolò whimper. They did not speak, last time – a sudden fit of pique had overcome Yusuf, when he had heard Nicolò rustling around on his bedroll – and that was the first time he had seen Nicolò concerned, the next morning, eyeing Yusuf as though he might disappear.

“What are you thinking of, Nicolò?” Yusuf asks tonight.

Nicolò hums. They have never done this in daylight, never with the fire still burning, and Yusuf craves the sight of him. He has seen Nicolò naked, naturally – they have been travelling together too long for him to have not. But it would be different to see him in the throes of desire, even if he did not touch.

“I ache, down there,” Nicolò says, and oh, he is already so close, Yusuf can tell. “I want to be full, I want to feel his hands on me, holding me where he wants me…”

He lets out a choked-off moan and Yusuf breathes deeply through his nose. He still has not asked who Nicolò thinks of – perhaps it is no one at all.

He hopes Nicolò thinks of him, but after all this time, it seems unlikely.

Still, he imagines it along with him; imagines digging bruises into Nicolò’s pale skin, considers how hot and tight he would be around him. He would have to go slow – he would never wish to cause Nico pain – but their bodies heal so quickly that he would likely be used to him in seconds. He would hold him down and he hopes the first time would be loving and gentle and everything Nicolò would want from him, but he suspects if he ever did get the chance, he would lose all semblance of patience very, very quickly.

“Tell me,” Nicolò says, breathing hard now, “Tell me what you think of.”

Yusuf’s heart skips a beat. This is new. He spreads his legs a little wider, slows the glide of his hand on his cock. “He’s beautiful,” he says and Nicolò’s breath hitches. “Not soft, not really, but pliable under my hands. And when I push him down he spreads his legs for me, begs for me, like he might just die if I don’t fuck him, then and there.”

Nicolò groans. It’s a throaty sound and Yusuf shudders. He’s close – but then he always is, when they do this together.

“And then?” Nicolò asks. He sounds strained, like he’s holding off his own orgasm, and Yusuf licks his lips.

“And then I do. He’s already slick, already fingered himself open for me, so I can just slide right in. We fit together like we were made for each other and he tries to pull me deeper even as I fill him up because all we want is each other.”

“Fuck, Yusuf,” Nicolò says and Yusuf keens, comes with a sudden, short shock, because it’s not only the first time he’s heard Nicolò curse when they’ve been doing this – it’s also the first time Nicolò has said his name.

From the sound of it, Nicolò has heard him, is stroking himself faster until he comes, too, his moan a noise that Yusuf will never tire of. He stares up at the sky. Every time they do this, he thinks he should go back around the fire. Nicolò is probably a boneless mess; he could lick him clean, coax him into sharing all his fantasies and work to make them come true–

Only, he can’t. He doesn’t know whether Nicolò was ever truly celibate, but he is certain he never had relations with a man, at any level. He has to take the lead from Nicolò on this and trust that he will get there.

“Good night, Nicolò,” he says.

Silence. Not just silence; a lack of noise that indicates Nicolò is thinking, before he replies, “Good night, Yusuf.”

Yusuf is not sure how much longer he can take this.

***

He lasts through the rest of their journey, though he wakes up plastered to Nicolò’s back, hard as a rock, on more than one morning. If Nicolò notices, he does not say anything.

He lasts, too, when they are protecting a merchant’s caravan and are forced to share a cramped tent. Of course, that is easier – there are people enough around and although Yusuf has no qualms about exactly who he is, he knows others are more hesitant, even hostile.

He lasts even through Nicolò’s increasingly curious glances, because a look is not intent; or at least, not yet. A romantic, optimistic part of him says it will be, in time: that they will be together so long that knowing how to love one another will come as easily as knowing how to breathe.

For now, there is still that space between them. Yusuf fears filling it with the depth of his own feelings and leaving no room for Nicolò’s.

Occasionally, he does not think of it at all.

They travel from city to city, and when they reach this one, when they are told there is a room, yes, but it only has one bed, Yusuf does not hesitate in taking it. They are travel-worn, tired; it has been a long few months and he wants to rest.

Still, he eyes the floor when they enter the room. Aside from a handful of times, they have not spent the night apart in years, but that has always been a matter of choice. One bed is not a choice.

Nicolò lets him wash up first, though he, too, is dead on his feet, and then stumbles through his own ablutions. Yusuf sets out his bedroll and Nicolò turns, one eyebrow quirking at the sight.

“What are you doing?”

“I thought I would–”

Nicolò’s lips twitch. “Are you not too tired for that, tonight?”

“Not that! I thought you might like the bed.”

“I mean, I know we are safe here but if you do not wish to sleep beside me, you could–”

“I do,” Yusuf says without meaning to, an honest admission, and Nicolò smiles.

“Then get in bed, Yusuf,” he says, and the note of command in his voice has Yusuf nodding despite himself.

He supposes Nicolò has made the choice, then.

Yusuf settles on his side, pressed back against the wall, and Nicolò climbs into the bed in front of him a few minutes later. When Yusuf still maintains the distance between them, Nicolò huffs, reaching back until his fingers land on Yusuf’s arm.

He tugs him forward and Yusuf goes, sliding his arm around Nicolò’s waist. Only then does Nicolò appear to relax, all the tension seeping out of his neck and shoulders. Yusuf rests his forehead against the back of Nicolò’s neck.

“Good night, Yusuf,” Nicolò murmurs, halfway to sleep already now, it seems.

“Good night, habibi,” Yusuf replies.

He does not fall asleep until after Nicolò’s breathing has evened out. When he does, he stumbles immediately into a familiar scene.

They have been having the dreams ever since their first deaths. They were one of the first things they connected over, actually; once they knew well enough how to communicate with each other, at least.

The two women are like them, Yusuf is sure. They are both warriors, and sometimes he feels their age so keenly, he wonders how they can bear it. His dreams are never coherent, flashes of death, of laughter, of fury and stolen moments and he wonders if he will meet them, one day.

Tonight is both familiar and not, all at once.

He already knows the women are in love. Nicolò knows too, though they have not spoken of it. It is clear in the way they are when they are together, in the brush of skin Yusuf feels against the back of his hand, the bright close up of smiling eyes.

Tonight, they are celebrating their love. Yusuf cannot call it anything else. They kiss and he feels a phantom of it on his lips; hands roam and his skin prickles. He wakes when one bites the other on the thigh, then grins softly, and realises two things straight away.

He’s hard.

Nicolò is awake.

The only reason they both are apparent is because Nicolò has gone so still he does not appear to be breathing, except where he is pressing back against Yusuf, hips twitching.

Yusuf lets out a heavy breath and Nicolò turns in his arms.

“I saw–”

“I know,” Yusuf says and Nicolò kisses him. It’s frantic, messy, but Yusuf doesn’t have the sense to slow it because he can feel Nicolò pressed against him and he’s hard too, deliciously so. They rock together, pant into each other’s mouths, and when Yusuf squeezes Nicolò’s ass, Nicolò goes boneless, letting out a little whimper.

Something about that knocks Yusuf back to his senses. He lifts himself up and wonders when they rolled because Nicolò is spread out beneath him, hair mussed, eyes still heavy with sleep, lips swollen from where Yusuf bit him, at least once.

“The dream,” Yusuf says and Nicolò blinks once, twice.

“The dream?” he repeats.

“We are…” Yusuf waves a hand between them. “The dream. It got to us.”

Something like hurt flicks over Nicolò’s face. “Oh,” he says and his voice has gone small but Yusuf will not have him regret this, in the morning. “I thought…”

He chews his lip and Yusuf wants to kiss him again. He pushes the desire firmly aside. “It was the dream,” he says. He will have Nicolò make a conscious choice; there is too much to consider, otherwise. “We should sleep.”

Nicolò takes a deep breath, but nods. “Alright,” he says and when Yusuf climbs back to his place on the bed, Nicolò turns his back. Yusuf reaches to put his arm around him again but Nicolò tucks in on himself, all that tension back in his shoulders, and so he withdraws his hand.

He does not turn his back. He watches Nicolò’s breathing until he has to get up and pray.

***

They go to Malta not long after that. It is a pleasant island – more than pleasant, really – and it is not long before they carve out a quiet life for themselves. Yusuf knows it will not last forever, but he enjoys that there are people who know them here, that they have goats and chickens and a little house they can call their own.

Nicolò goes to the market every other day and almost always returns with a small treat for Yusuf; sweets or oil for his beard or quill pens and ink, so he can draw. He does, nightly, often as Nicolò prepares dinner. Sometimes, Nicolò’s eyes on him are heavy, so much so that Yusuf cannot breathe.

It has been months since that night in their bed and they still sleep side-by-side, Yusuf’s arm around Nicolò’s waist. Nicolò is always awake and out of bed before Yusuf, ostensibly to feed the goats, and Yusuf fears, one day, that their time is running out.

Maybe they need time apart, he thinks, as he watches Nicolò move deftly around this small space they share. Or maybe he does… Nicolò does not wish to approach the subject, clearly, and if it is because he does not know how to let Yusuf down gently, then Yusuf can solve that problem himself.

Only, he does not wish to leave Nicolò alone, either. Anything could happen – and he trusts that Nicolò can take care of himself – but if something were to go terribly wrong, Yusuf would have no one to blame but himself.

They climb into bed that night and Nicolò makes a contented sound as Yusuf presses up behind him.

“Are you going to the market tomorrow?” Yusuf asks. Nicolò’s ribs rise and fall under his arm.

“Yes.”

“Can I come, too?” Usually he would find something to do in the day; there is always something to be done. But if he is going to leave, then he would prefer to spend more time with Nicolò, first.

It is counterintuitive and will make everything more painful, but he cannot help himself.

“Of course,” Nicolò says. He sounds surprised; probably because Yusuf is asking. It is not as though they have never gone to the market together before.

“Thank you,” Yusuf murmurs.

He is sure Nicolò wants to say something else but he does not, and Yusuf sleeps lightly as a result. When he wakes before dawn, Nicolò is still in bed beside him. His brow is furrowed, even in sleep, and Yusuf wants to smooth the lines out with his fingers, kiss them away.

Instead, he climbs out of bed and prepares for fajr.

Nicolò wakes sometime after that and they tend to their morning chores before setting out for the market just before midday. Yusuf knows Nicolò wants to ask what has changed, but he does not, and they spend the walk talking about erstwhile things: the goats, who all have individual personalities but one thing in common (they all vaguely dislike Nicolò), the good summer weather, what they might have for dinner…

The market is busy and they both get to work, separating only to find each other again. Nicolò is not quite as good at striking a bargain as Yusuf would like but he does appear to have improved from when they first met. Yusuf secures some baklava, which he knows Nicolò will enjoy after their dinner, but when he turns this time, Nicolò is nowhere to be seen.

Yusuf turns in a circle, then starts walking through the stalls. Nicolò would be easy enough to spot, in most other places, but Malta is such a mix of people that it takes Yusuf longer than he would like.

When he finally does see Nicolò, he stops. He is speaking to a merchant – or a merchant’s son, perhaps, as the man is younger than both of them, albeit not by much. They clearly know each other, standing close, smiling, and when the stranger touches Nicolò on the arm, Nicolò does not push him away.

It is clear Nicolò has been caught up in their conversation enough that he has forgotten Yusuf is there and Yusuf wonders if he should leave.

No. Nicolò is not being rude; Yusuf is being irrational. He sighs and walks toward them.

The stranger sees him first, smiles up at Nicolò, and Nicolò is beaming when he turns, making Yusuf feel twice as bad about his thoughts.

“Yusuf!” Nicolò exclaims. “This is Amir. Amir, Yusuf.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Amir says and he seems to mean it. He speaks the same Arabic as Yusuf does, Yusuf notices, though he probably knows a handful of other languages, besides.

This becomes evident when he turns back to Nicolò, says something to him in Ligurian, far too fast for even Yusuf to follow. Nicolò shakes his head, the tips of his ears going pink, and Yusuf is not sure he wants to know what he is missing.

“I, uh, am going to head back,” he says, shifting the baklava from hand to hand.

“Oh!” Nicolò nods. “Of course, we should go. It was good to see you again, Amir.”

Amir does not seem put off by Yusuf’s attitude – does not seem surprised by it, in fact. He says his goodbyes to both of them and Nicolò follows Yusuf back through the crowd in apparently high spirits. He chatters to Yusuf all the way home and Yusuf dwells on what he saw – Amir’s smile, that casual touch, obviously welcome, and the simple fact that Nicolò has never made it clear to Yusuf that he wants him. Wants more.

By the time they reach the house, Nicolò appears to have realised something is amiss; but it can wait until after the chores are done. Yusuf leaves the package of baklava on the table, his fingers sticky from it, even through the paper, and sets to helping. Hours later, everything is done and Yusuf stops Nicolò before he goes to make dinner.

“Yusuf, I am hungry–”

“Then have some of this,” Yusuf says and presses the baklava into Nicolò’s hands. “But we need to speak, first.”

Nicolò frowns and sits. Yusuf paces and so Nicolò eats a piece of the baklava, eyes fluttering shut at the first taste. Yusuf looks away, his mouth suddenly dry, and forces out, “I am going to leave.”

“We have to leave so soon?” Nicolò replies. He puts the baklava down, licks honey from his fingers. “I thought we would manage a few years more, at least.”

“No, Nicolò, I am going to leave.”

“What?”

Yusuf shrugs, trying to look calm even though his heart is pounding and he almost can’t catch his breath. “I think it is time to… I should find those women we dream of. Bring them back here. You can stay, it is safe, and then we will all be reunited.”

Nicolò just stares at him, and the look on his face is similar to many of the times Yusuf stabbed him – shocked, and in pain – and Yusuf flees into the bedroom. He pulls out the bag he last used on their journey here. He needs to pack; now that he’s said it, he needs to be out by nightfall.

Yusuf digs around for clothes – his clothes – and suddenly realises they’ve been sharing; they’re both of a height, both built similarly, and he isn’t sure what to take.

When he turns, Nicolò is looming in the doorway.

“You are really going to do this?” he asks. He sounds hurt and sad and angry.

“You will be fine here, without me,” Yusuf replies. “You have friends here, you will pass a few years in peace…”

“You told me you would always be here for me.”

That stops Yusuf in his tracks. It was not quite what he had intended by what he had said, but it was true all the same.

“I cannot be,” he murmurs and he’s staring at his bag; he can’t look at Nicolò. “Not right now.”

“Why not?”

Yusuf looks at Nicolò and Nicolò stares steadily back. Can he really not see it? Did he not feel it, that night, how much Yusuf had wanted him – how much he has wanted him, even before Nicolò saw him with that stranger?

“Because this is killing me, Nicolò,” he all but shouts. “And I need a break, I need some time away so that I can trust myself to be around you.”

Nicolò takes a step into the room. “I told you I was ready, Yusuf,” he says. “Or, maybe not told you but I think I made it clear enough. You certainly made it clear you thought I didn’t know what I was doing.”

“You were half-asleep, Nicolò, I cannot take advantage of you like that!”

“I kissed you,” Nicolò retorts. He runs a hand through his hair. “Do you trust me with your life, Yusuf?”

“Yes.” No hesitation; he knows it in his bones.

“Then give me the courtesy of trusting me with my own.”

Yusuf sighs. “I could not be certain–”

“I have been trying to show you every day since,” Nicolò says. “Everything I see you might like, every bit of news I think might lighten your heart – and I didn’t want to ask again because I did not wish to be rebuffed like someone who did not know what he was asking.”

“But you and Amir…”

Nicolò rolls his eyes. “He is from your homeland. And yes, I am sure you saw the way he looks at me, from the way you greeted us, but it meant I felt secure in telling him how I feel about you and he has been helping me to find gifts for you.”

Yusuf thinks he might actually die. He has assumed the whole time that Nicolò’s silence represented disinterest; instead, here he is, presented with full evidence of that interest, because Nicolò has been trying to give him space, just as he has been trying to give it to Nicolò.

Nicolò sighs, all the fight draining out of him. “We need to talk about this,” he says. “Are you still leaving?”

Yusuf looks at his bag. It is small and sad on their bed. “No.”

“Good. Then I will make dinner.” He glances to the window. “It is almost time for maghrib.”

He leaves Yusuf in there, alone. Yusuf prays but his heart is not in it; his mind spins around what Nicolò has just told him, and he knows they are both at fault but he has been assuming that Nicolò’s inexperience is the same as naivety and they are not the same at all.

Yusuf stays in the bedroom until dinner, not out of cowardice but because he is turning things over in his mind. What if he had trusted Nicolò, after the dream? What if he had rounded the fire, any number of times?

They eat in silence and Nicolò cleans up, after, as Yusuf fetches his sketchbook. He draws Amir from memory – which turns out to be an unflattering sketch, tinged as it is by his hurt and jealousy, and Nicolò nibbles at the baklava, watches him from under his lashes. Yusuf sets down his quill, once, opens his mouth, and Nicolò shakes his head.

Yusuf has a thousand questions, a thousand thoughts, and as his quill flows across the parchment, he orders them in his mind. By the time they are readying themselves for bed, he almost knows which question he wishes to ask first.

Nicolò indicates for Yusuf to climb in first and then lays in front of him. Yusuf doesn’t reach for him and so Nicolò huffs, turns on his side so they face each other.

“We should talk about this,” Yusuf says into the quiet space between them. It is dark, sure, but there is light enough from the moon that he can see Nicolò’s eyes.

“Not tonight,” Nicolò replies. “We say too many things in the dark, thinking they do not count that way. This conversation will have meaning, Yusuf.”

Yusuf lets out a sigh and Nicolò reaches, stroking soft fingers along his cheekbone. Yusuf wants to kiss him – it would be so easy to lean in – but holds himself back.

“I’m sorry,” Nicolò says. “I do want you to know that, tonight. I should have said something sooner.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Yusuf replies and this simple exchange of apologies loosens something in him. “For a lot of things, but especially for not trusting you to know your own–”

He cuts himself off. Nicolò takes his hand.

“I know my heart well enough to know who it belongs to,” he says, and the words are sweeter than anything he has brought Yusuf, these past months. “Sleep now, ya albi. We will talk about this tomorrow, I promise.”

Yusuf pulls Nicolò closer, tangles their legs together and when Nicolò’s arms go around him, he is not sure whether he wants to cry or laugh or both, really. Eventually, he falls asleep, his face buried in Nicolò’s chest, his love’s heartbeat against his ear.

#the old guard #the old guard fanfic #the old guard fanfiction #joe x nicky #nicky x joe #kaysanova #pre-canon #fanfic #fanfiction #kinktober #kinktober 2020

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astrology-india · 4 years

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Libra Compatibility - The Best and Worst Match

New Post has been published on https://www.astrology-india.com/libra-compatibility/

Libra Compatibility - The Best and Worst Match

Libra natives are peaceful, diplomatic, and sociable.

These individuals are fascinated by symmetry and they are interested in creating a world of justice and equality.

Besides, their urge for balance operates on an aesthetic level.

Libra Suns have an innate sense of style and are inclined to look for refined experiences and objects in their everyday life.

Getting information about Libra compatibility could be useful if you are interested in sustaining a healthy connection.

Whether Libra is your Sun sign or the sign of your crush, this article will help you get facts that will be useful for navigating the challenges of relationships.

Remember, though, that Astrology is not limited to the Sun sign.

You should consult with a professional astrologer to acquire an in-depth report of the compatibility between two people.

Sun signs only offer a general idea about compatibility.

Best Libra Compatibility Matches

The Sun signs that are the best matches for Libra have to share some common traits with the graceful nature of this cardinal airy sign. Read on, to know more about them.

Libra and Gemini

Gemini and Libra are both air signs. This means that they would have an entertaining mental connection and a witty verbal understanding.

Gemini and Libra enjoy sharing their ideas about every-thing and participating in cultural events that will make them learn something new and meet stimulating people.

Libra Suns love to entertain their acquaintances and Gemini Suns are also very social.

This couple is great at hosting parties and inviting friends to their home.

Since they both love talking and being the center of attention, they will make jokes and observations like they were stand-up comedians in their own Netflix special.

The spontaneous nature of the Gemini Suns could be really beneficial for the perfectionist Libra Suns.

On the other hand, Libra Suns can help their Gemini partners to tidy up their scattered thoughts in order to express them more cohesively.

They can complement each other beautifully when they are capable of appreciating their unique mindsets.

This almost-perfect match may hit a snag if they do not show their vulnerable side.

These two Sun signs have a bit of a reputation for being superficial.

They need to learn how to vent their feelings and to accept that life is not always fun, entertaining, and light.

Libra and Aquarius

There is a strong bond between an Aquarius Sun and a Libra Sun.

They share the element of air and appreciate mental stimulation.

Since both signs rely heavily on communication, they will enjoy talking with each other and will find the right words to solve all of their issues.

Libra is a sign who does not want to be alone. Aquarius, on the other hand, likes solitude and needs some space to feed its individuality.

The Libra partner could seem clingy, whereas the Aquarius partner might seem detached.

Luckily, meeting halfway and finding some common ground is possible and it will guarantee that they will be able to overcome their differences.

Marriage is considered very meaningful for Libra Suns. For Aquarius Suns, it may seem to be an obsolete institution.

But they will settle down for the right partner and a Libra Sun may have the specific qualities that an Aquarius Sun needs to feel comfortable and amused at the same time.

It is important for both Libra and Aquarius Suns to move slowly and make the decision to tie the knot when they are certain that the relationship is going to be beneficial in the long run.

Libra and Leo

Leo Sun values pride and beauty. And a Libra Sun enjoys pleasing other people with their attractive and elegant demeanor.

Together, they may learn how to express themselves unapologetically and how to strengthen their talents.

They support each other’s personalities in a communicative and charming way.

The sextile between the Leo Sun and the Libra Sun makes it possible for them to have a respectful partnership and to build stronger personalities that are free of judgment of any kind.

This couple knows how to shine!

The elements of fire and air fit perfectly. Leo puts a passionate touch to every intelligent idea concocted by Libra. Their communication is quick, inspiring, and enthusiastic.

These two signs together represent the consummation of a loving relationship.

When you look at this couple, you will see that their devotion for one another is real, palpable and it has long-term potential.

When a Leo Sun and a Libra Sun are together, they will not engage in a relationship with no future.

Less Libra Compatibility Matches

Having mentioned the best matches for Libra Suns, the moment has arrived for taking a look at the less compatible ones.

Please remember that this Libra compatibility article is based only on the Sun sign.

Two people who possess Sun signs that are not traditionally compatible can still have a healthy relationship. The reason behind this is that compatibility goes beyond Sun signs.

There may be other astrological placements in the natal charts, as well as a desire of getting to know more about a partner, that could make a relationship work and be long-lasting.

Libra and Taurus

Even though both signs are ruled by Venus, Taurus and Libra couldn’t be more different.

Taurus is a fixed and earthy sign that enjoys life when it’s predictable and stable.

Libra, on the other hand, needs to start new projects all the time and to socialize with new people.

These two signs will drive each other crazy in a committed relationship.

While the Taurus Sun may be stubborn and fixated on their old ideas, the Libra Sun may be indecisive and always interested in seeing life from a variety of perspectives.

The Taurus Sun wants to keep things under control and the Libra Sun wants to push the envelope constantly.

Insecurity may be another issue in this couple.

The Libra Sun could criticize their Taurus Sun partner as a way of projecting their own fears of not being good enough.

But the Taurus Sun will not understand this unconscious mechanism and will take the criticism very personally.

Then, the Taurus Suns could experience sudden bursts of anger because they are not able to channel their emotions constructively. And Libra Suns will go away because they can’t stand rudeness.

Libra and Virgo

A relationship between a Virgo Sun and a Libra Sun doesn’t look like a good match.

Virgo is an earth sign and is ruled by Mercury. This means that it relies on tangible results.

Libra is an airy sign ruled by Venus and couldn’t be more distant from Virgo’s pragmatic nature.

Libra craves beauty and art and can be very vacillating when making a decision.

As soon as one of them has to articulate a concern or a deep feeling, the other one seems to freeze and to lose the ability for showing empathy or compassion.

These two signs are not known for having the skill to connect with their emotions and display them honestly.

The mental attraction that they may experience interferes with showing love and with providing comfort at disturbing times.

Virgo wants to optimize processes and improve existing systems. Therefore, people born under this sign will take over the decisions that the Libra Suns need to make.

The Libra Suns will feel inferior and will stop respecting their Virgo Sun partner. While Libra Suns don’t tolerate the absence of kindness, Virgo Suns can’t accept ambivalence.

Libra and Scorpio

The value system of a Scorpio Sun is remarkably divergent from the value system of a Libra Sun.

Scorpio is not afraid of facing the darkest aspects of the human condition. Libra, on the other extreme, is devoted to niceties.

A Libra Sun may perceive that a Scorpio Sun goes the extra mile to be perceived as special and deep.

A Scorpio Sun may perceive that a Libra Sun compromises all the time just to fit in.

The main problem here is that a Libra Sun may be too concerned about other people’s opinions and a Scorpio Sun finds this concern superficial and shallow.

Libra Suns will have trouble understanding the inquisitive side of Scorpio, as much as Scorpio Suns won’t be able to understand the accommodating nature of their Libra partners.

Their differences could be impossible to reconcile. However, they may have an incredibly intense and demanding sexual life.

Obsession and possessiveness are two possible manifestations when they are in the bedroom.

They could create profound ties through their physical contact, but everything else in the relationship could make them feel unsatisfied and unappreciated.

Libra Man

The Libra man is gentle, tactful, and smart. He has great manners and dedicates a lot of time to improve his appearance.

On the downside, he could have high standards in a partnership and this will be reflected in the way he treats his significant other.

The Libra man could not-so-subtly make suggestions to his partner about clothing and modals.

When he is in a committed relationship, he loves taking his significant other to fancy restaurants, art galleries, and big concerts.

He wants to dress up for special occasions and display a spotless image. And he wants his partner to act in the same when they are together in public.

This man enjoys compliments about the way he looks and how smart he is.

He likes being cherished and caressed in public, but he may have a hard time showing affection when surrounded by strangers.

Libra Man Relationship Compatibility

The signs that are most compatible with having a relationship with a Libra man are Leo and Sagittarius.

Having a relationship with one of these fire signs is beneficial for the Libra man because his partner will make him feel appreciated.

If you are dating a Libra man but you are having trouble deciphering his true feelings for you then I recommend you read our article on Libra man in love to help guide you.

Libra Man Sexual Compatibility

If the Libra man wants to experience a satisfying sexual life, he has to choose partners with the Sun in Aries or Capricorn.

These two signs are also cardinal and will definitely know how to ignite the spark.

Libra Woman

The Libra woman is fair, loyal, and delicate. She will be prepared to make a lifetime commitment with a partner of her choosing.

However, she could be too focused on pleasing her significant other all the time and forget who she is as an individual.

Therefore, she can come across as someone who is calculating and fake.

Her need to be in a relationship is extremely strong and dating is never casual for her.

In extreme situations, this woman could be thinking about marriage after the first date!

She could be quite needy and dependent on her partner to make even the simplest decisions. But when she knows her worth, she can be adorable, enchanting, and attentive.

A confident Libra woman doesn’t go unnoticed.

Libra Woman Relationship Compatibility

The signs that are most compatible with a committed relationship with a Libra woman are Gemini and Aquarius.

Gemini and Aquarius are connected with Libra by trine. The relationship with one of these tactful airy signs will be fun and exciting.

Libra Woman Sexual Compatibility

Even if they will not work well together in a long-term relationship, having a sexual partner with the Sun in Taurus or in Scorpio will be a parade of lust for the Libra woman.

These two fixed signs are intense and possessive, two qualities that could be interesting to find in a sexual encounter.

Final Thoughts

Gracious and charismatic, the sons and daughters of Venus will definitely catch your attention. Their persuasive tactics and their classy style make them utterly mesmerizing.

Libra Suns are relationship-oriented and could be people-pleasers. But they also want to have a first-class partner.

They won’t settle for less than they deserve and they will not give up their social life to stay at home with a dull person.

This is why Libra compatibility with the other air signs is a good combination, as well as with fire signs. Air and fire are positive elements that want to have a vibrant and lively existence.

A long-term relationship with an earth or water sign may not be the best option for Libra Suns.

Earth and water are elements that belong to the negative polarity and their natives are much more reserved and quiet than a Libra Sun.

If this article didn’t quite answer your questions about Libra compatibility then I recommend you take a look at our article here to find your perfect love match according to astrology.

#compatibility #Libra man #Libra woman

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