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#will there ever come a day when that quote doesn't take me out like a sniper to the skull? doubtful
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Incorrect quotes
Thanks @leahnardo-da-veggie here!
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Tagging @mk-writes-stuff @buffythevampirelover @willtheweaver @elsie-writes @rickie-the-storyteller
+ ANYONE ELSE
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TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites
@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy @honeybewrites
I get too excited with these things, so below the cut!
Robbie: So according to the cease and desist order I got, apparently you can’t ‘legally’ be a lawyer if your license is ‘cut out of a cereal box’.
Carmen: If I die, you can have what little I own.
Jedi: Wait. What do you mean "if" you die?
Carmen: My unending existence is fuelled by pure spite, that of which the painful experiences of life have rendered me full.
Jedi:
Jedi: *Sighs* Let me call your therapist again.
Gwen: Without ugly, there would be no beauty in this world.
Ash: Thank you for your sacrifice, Robbie.
Lexi: Question. When they shot Bambi's mother, did you find that a sad moment...at all?
Carmen: I'm sure she's mounted on a nice wall in a fine home somewhere.
Maddie: Oh god, she texted you ‘hi.’’ punctuation only means one thing, Lexi. She's mad at you.
Lexi: No, it's Noelle. She's just being gramatically correct!
*meanwhile*
Noelle: And then I used a period so she'd know that I'm mad at her.
Robbie: A period doesn't say 'I'm mad', it says 'you're dead to me'.
Noelle: I stand by my choice.
Ash: God is no longer with us, I’ll take over.
Robbie: Think you can answer some questions without the usual level of sarcasm?
Rose: If you can ask the questions without the usual level of stupid.
Ash: *Pulls a glass a water from out of nowhere*
Noelle: Where did you get that?
Ash: My pocket.
Noelle: How do you keep a glass of water in your pocket?
Ash: Skills.
Noelle: Okay, who's turn is it to give the pep talk?
Robbie: It's Kelsey's turn.
Kelsey: Don't die.
Robbie, wiping a tear away: Truly inspirational.
Gwen: We’re going to defeat you with the power of friendship.
Noelle: We’re not friends.
Gwen, holding an axe: We’re going to defeat you with the power of incredible violence.
Kelsey, handing a balloon to Rose: I have no soul. Have a good day!
Rose, walking off: I don't have one either.
Kelsey: I never tell people off the bat that I'm gay. I wait. I wait until they say some homophobic shit and then I laugh and am like "you know I'm gay right?" and watch the look of terror on their face.
Maddie: Kelsey likes to say ‘you can be part of the problem or part of the solution,’ but I happen to believe you can be both.
Robbie:
Robbie: I like you.
Maddie: What did you get Akash for his birthday?
Rose: I got him a kitten.
Maddie: Really? Me too!
Kelsey: I also got him a cat.
Robbie: Looks like we had the same idea.
Rose: Lexi, please tell me you didn't get Akash a cat as well!
Lexi: ...I got him a kitten.
*later*
Akash, in his apartment surrounded by cats and kittens: This is the best birthday ever!
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bumblebeesfromvenus · 3 months
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TF141 getting a boudoir photo album as a wedding gift ♡
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A/N: THIS WAS SO FUN!!! Great, absolutely phenomal idea, dear anon. Simon's part is very sappy (I cried) which might be ooc for him?? Idk, that's how I write him/interpret his character! :) let me know who's your favorite 👀
~Fi 🐝
《Warnings》: NSFW content. proceed with caution. PiV, creampie, cunnilingus, Johnny's oral fixation (yes, that is a warning.)
It's still very sweet and lovey dovey with all of them bc I'm a certified sap <3
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John would be grinning and smirking like a proper idiot when he lays his eyes on those delectable photos of you.
I imagine you had a date night at home, sipping wine on the couch and talking about your wedding that's supposed to take place in only 3 days. He's telling you how he can't wait to see you in your wedding dress and slip that ring onto your finger.
Sneaky bastard.
Be prepared to he called Mrs. Price the days leading up to the big day. John excuses it with:
"Need to practice, love. Don't wanna mess it up in front of anyone, eh?"
He knows what he's doing, you know what he's doing, all is well because if he only knew what that did to you. You're just talking, trying to get the nerves out now so you can go into your wedding with a clear mind and have a good time. When you tell him you have a gift for him, his eyebrows almost overshoot his forehead. Yeah, he knew that was a thing some people did, but he never gave it another thought.
In all honesty, marrying you was the best gift he could ever get. Which is why he feels slightly guilty that he doesn't have one for you (at least that's what you see, internally he's crushed) but that all goes out the window when you sit back down with a sleek beige photo album that has a little romantic quote on the front.
What he doesn't expect, however, is the angelic image of your plush body on full display, draped over a velvet chaise lounge with layered pearl necklaces hanging from your neck. This man is shell-shocked. If he wasn't frozen in place, he would've snapped the book shut.
"And what's this, doll, hm?"
His heart feels warm and fuzzy, thinking these are some lovely pictures of you together on holidays you went on, casual trips to the local pub or just some domestic shots you managed to sneak during his leave.
You can basically see the connections to his brain frying. His jaw slacks, and only after what feels like 10 minutes he regains his ability to think and close his mouth. John is sweating and his cock is rock hard as he flips through the remaining pages.
He shoots you the occasional glance while he's trying not to hyperventilate. You just sit back and savor your wine, trying to hide your laugh behind the rim of your glass. You'd expected a reaction, of course, but you didn't think you'd render the John Price speechless just from a few suggestive photographs of you.
But what absolutely breaks the camels back (or John's, in this case) is the last picture of you. You're kneeling, slightly leaned back and supported by your arms, with one of his Flannels covering your soft tits. That alone would've been enough to drive him crazy, but the sight of his old dogtags sitting against your sternum has him groaning out loud.
The only other thing covering you is a simple pair of lace panties, cupping the soft curve and rolls of your tummy so beautifully, John was ready to take a bit out of that damn page.
He nearly misses the inscription underneath the photo;
To my John; the love of my life, the man of my dreams,
I love you.
You hold my heart and you will forever.
May I be so lucky to find my place in the stars by your side when the time comes, so we'll never have to be apart.
With all my love,
Mrs. Price
And that does it. The album snaps shut and you barely have time to put down your wine glass before John is all over you, taking handfuls of you, whatever he can reach. With how fast he smashes his lips on yours, he nearly gives you whiplash.
He's tugging and pulling at your clothes as well as his own, not saying a thing, just hungrily swallowing every one of your sounds and giggled objections before he decides the couch is uncomfortable and he moves you to the bedroom. You're hoisted up without a warning and you cling to his neck. Immediately, worried words start spilling from your lips, remembering how he'd complained about a sore back just today;
"John, baby, your back-"
"I don't give a flying fuck about my back, love."
He's heaving and grunting like a fucking animal, he's downright feral. Despite all of that, you're still laid down gently on the bed, John would never, ever be reckless with you. But he needs to be inside you now, he'll actually lose his mind.
Usually, he'd spent hours between your thighs first, but he just can't wait. He's pounding you into another dimension but with such gentleness in his gestures, it makes your head spin.
He's holding your hand, breathing sweet praises into your ear despite him filling you to the brim. His urge to claim you goes haywire and he fills you with his cum multiple times before he's sane enough again.
He's covered in sweat and his beard is wet from your spit from all the sloppy kisses he gave you. John will definitely make it up to you and eat you out for as long as you want after.
He'll make a copy of one of the photos and take it with him when he's on deployment, just for the nights he's feeling lonely.
His wedding gift to you are the hickeys on your thighs and tummy and new sheets because you two tore the other ones to absolute shreds.
♥︎
Johnny would probably have a boudoir album for you, too. You get at least one shirtless pic a day, so a whole album of his body on display or in suggestive poses basically screams Johnny. He's already drooling the second he spots that book because he knows what it is and that he's in for a treat.
He's buzzing with excitment.
You never really send nudes for privacy reasons, and then for you to do something like this hit him like a truck in the best way possible. You're standing opposite from him behind the kitchen counter, and you look so nervous to him.
Cue his signature shit-eating grin. You tap your fingers on the dark blue album before having enough of your nerves and just sliding it over to him with a few mumbled words of what it is.
"Awe, for me, mo leannan?" He's a teasing bastard, and he chuckles when you huff and turn your head, obviously flustered. Johnny is legit licking his lips, but when he opens the book, his grin fades so fast.
He knew it would be good, but holy shit, this was so much better than he expected. His pupils dilate as he takes in each of the pictures of you, all of you, all your curves and bumps.
Everything he loves about you. God, you're such a woman, he thinks to himself. Some with lingerie, some without. He's full on drooling at this point, and the only reason why he roughly wipes it away with the back of his hand is to not get it on these sacred images.
He smirks at the picture of you in a tub, all soapy, with pebbled nipples. An obvious dig at his nickname, but, god, does your ass look amazing when it's covered in a thin layer of bubbles. He loves lathering you up in the shower and feeling you up while you're all wet and slippery.
"Good thing I can hold my breath, aye, hen? Might even try to set a new personal record." He's grinning and chuckling meanwhile you give him a sharp glare. You can't deny that the idea intrigues you, though.
But this, oh, this one was him swallowing thickly. It's you in very sheer panties (they're barely even underwear) and his name patch is sewn onto the front. Your hair looks so nice, so do your thighs, he doesn't know whether to look at your eyes or your tits. The button on his jeans is about to pop off from his throbbing boner.
He can't take his eyes off that 'MacTavish' patch that sits right on your lower belly, with the slight curve it has to it from your soft tummy.
Johnny has to hold himself back from gripping the book too hard. He wouldn't want to ruin it.
"Steamin' bloody Jesus, bonnie..."
The album is shut and tucked under his arm, and Johnny jumps over the counter to get his hands on you. Or his mouth, more like. He has a huge oral fixation, so he loves sucking and biting on every inch of your skin. You're pushed back into the bedroom, even though you end up on the floor, and the book is thrown onto the bed.
He rips your shirt up and sucks at your tits and nipples, groaning and moaning at the taste of your skin, all while he's rubbing his clothes cock against your leg. You end up on your hands and knees with one of Johnny's hands on your lowerback while his face is buried in your cunt.
He's eating you out like he's been starved for years, and his stubble is already starting to irritate the skin of your thighs and ass.
You'll have the worst case of beard burn in the morning, but how could you care about that when his tongue is so deep inside of you?
Remember when I said he'd have a boudoir album too? Yeah, now you're in between his legs, your back pressed to his chest with Johnny's album in your shaky hands. And the way your engagement ring catches the dim light of the room has your eyes rolling back.
And Jesus christ, Johnny looks fucking phenomal. You clench around his fingers hard, and he doesn't even have to pull his head from your neck to know what photo you're looking at.
He's smirking and grinning like the ceshire cat, knowing that the image of him in a kilt with no shirt one is gracing your field of vision right about now.
"Ah knew ye'd like tha' one, bonnie..."
Johnny's cooing in your ear, telling you to keep looking at the pictures while he's knuckle deep in your pussy. His bare dick is pressed against your ass and you can feel him rocking his hips to get off.
He's mumbling all kinds of gibberish into your ear, but one of the few things you can make out is "mo bhean"* which pushes you over the edge. You won't be leaving that bed anytime soon.
*(My wife)
♥︎
Kyle is such a sweetheart. I've said it before, and I will say it again, he's such a cutie pie!!! But that doesn't mean he can't or won't get nasty.
He'd offered to make lunch, which was delicious as always, and now you're chatting casually about your day at your dining table. Your fingers are laced together, and he's wearing the biggest smile because all he can think of is how he gets to marry you in just a few days.
He's over the moon. He can't wait to see you walk down the aisle, say your vows to each other, and overall have a great time with all your friends and family.
But the thing Kyle is looking forward the most is the honeymoon. He'll have you to himself for 2 whole weeks and he's stoked. He can't wait to treat you to nice things, love on you, but he's the most excited to fuck you as your husband.
He may look sweet and 'innocent' but this man can fuck, okay. And he fucks well. He knows every little spot that has you mewling and he's so good at using them for his gain.
Kyle will fuck you into the mattress in the Hotel you booked, he's already made up his mind about that, but he wants to absolutely melt your brain by being so loving whole doing it that you can't help but cry out for him.
He has heart eyes at this point, watching you talk about all that happened today and he only snaps out of his dream world when you present the deep red album to him with a sweet smile.
He's got a hunch of what it is so there's a hint of a smirk on his lips. Still, he almost gets whiplash when he opens it.
There's no easing into it, just straight up tits, ass and tummy. And let me tell you, Kyle is loving every second of it. It's no secret that he loves your chub, and that fact that it's extenuated so beautifully in every shot makes his heart and his cock happy. He's a very balanced man after all.
He comments on every single photo because he think it's endearing how you get all flustered and giggly from his compliments.
One picture that has him taking a second, though, is one where you have a lacy band tied around your thigh, with a little golden 'Kyle' charm hanging from it. He's all smiley and giddy, but he does try to discreet adjust his trousers because, holy shit, that's hot.
"Have you still got that, dove? Would love to see it tied around your pretty neck."
All you answer is that he'll have to be patient and wait till the wedding night to find out. He's laughing and teasing now, but just what till you get to the last page, Gazy.
And the way his smile just melts off his face is priceless. His gaze is flitting between you on the page and you sitting across from him with a shot eating grin. All the blood that drained from his face went straight to his dick.
Not only are you wearing a set of lingerie in his favorite color, but you've got his iconic pair of sunglasses hooked on the center of your bra. And that's not all either, his eyes travel upwards and his base cap is sat on your head and you've got that beautiful smile of yours on your face.
He makes an audible noise, one that indicates you took his breath away, when he takes in the whole picture.
"How in hell did you manage to snatch my hat and my glasses from right under my nose?!"
"Skilled hands, babe."
He's laughing at you breathlessly because he's still enarmoured by the sight of you.
And Kyle will absolutely whisk you away and fuck you stupid in front of your bedroom mirror while you're wearing his hat.
It makes him feral, seeing you like that. He's got both of his arms wrapped around your middle and he's panting into your shoulder. He does look up from time to time to see your blissed out face all while still wearing his cap.
He lets out a strained moan everytime he looks at you in the mirror and his hips stutter ever so slightly.
Kyle is just spewing jumbled words of love because he's genuinely so happy. You make him so happy.
He honestly can't wait to give you your wedding gift. It's a little booklet filled with poems or quotes that reminded him of you, or of how you make him feel. And it will make you cry when he reads them to you.
Definitely not because he'll be ballsdeep inside of you while doing so...
♥︎
Simon, Simon, Simon.... first of all, he's completely blindsided by this. And he hasn't got a fucking clue what's in that black book you hand him one night when you're cuddling in bed.
There's just a giant question mark above his head. When you tell him it's a wedding gift, he goes silent and just looks at that album in his hands.
He never really got gifts, which obviously changed since he's been with you, but he's still not used to it. You're so thoughtful. And sweet. And kind, and perfect and-
he turns his head to you when you softly call his name and if you notice the slight sheen of tears in his big brown eyes, you don't mention it. You just encourage him to open the book. And when he does, a small huff and gentle smile leave him because how are you so perfect?
Yes, all of the pictures are all filthy, but they're all radiating of love and softness, and he can't get over it. How are you so soft? Simon can't get enough of you. You mess up his emotions in ways he never thought possible, and he can't help that his heart starts beating twice as fast.
That you did this for him means more than you could ever fathom, and he'll treasure this album until his end. He absent mindedly reaches for your hand as he flips through the pages, trying to tell you thank you when his words fail him, like they did so many times before with you.
He comes across a shot of your neck, a black leather collared fasten around it with a little silver skull charm. It makes him smile just a bit. He knows just how much meaning is behind it.
That you love him. All of him, which includes the Ghost. In cursive, 'Riley' is written right above your heart, and he gives your hand a squeeze.
Although you love the Ghost because it's a part of him, you've shown him that it's not all he is. That Simon is enough. That he should give Simon a chance and that he's not incapable anymore, like he was as a little boy. Ghost is sort of a protector of Simon, something not many people know, that's why he wears the mask outside of duty too. To shield himself.
But as much as the Ghost's service is appreciated, Simon can handle himself now. The Ghost will forever be with him, but so will you, and you'll wipe his bloody hands with a smile. You've shown him that you accept Ghost just as much as you accept Simon, and that means the world to him.
He sniffles ever so quietly, and you lean your head against his shoulder, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He moves on, gently turning the pages, and as much as his heart is touched by your kind gesture of this album, that doesn't stop his cock from stirring. It's pictures of your naked form, after all.
He loves every single inch of you and he's told you and shown you so many times, kissed all your insecurities away and took your mind off any bad thoughts about yourself by fucking you so well and lovingly to the point of tears.
Never, in a million years, had he expected you to return these efforts. You kissed all his scars and held him softly when reassuring any doubts he had. That's when he truly and fully fell in love with you.
He can feel himself getting hotter with every passing image of your soft body bent in different positions and clad in delicate garments, if any.
The best for last, as always, and it's a picture of you kneeling in front of a mirror, completely nude. A picture of Simon in full military regalia is tapped to the mirror and it's surrounded by a bunch of hearts drawn on with lipstick.
His name is written under the picture in your handwriting, and he can see you holding a lipstick, in the middle of finishing another heart. His breath hitches just for a split second.
He swears he'll burn this photo into the back of his eyelids.
It shows him just how great and raw your love for him is, and it makes him all fuzzy on the inside. The text at the bottom finishes it all off, and he's actively holding back tears, overwhelmed by so many feelings for you.
Dear Husband,
We're flawed; but that's how I like us. You're you, and I'm me, and I wouldn't change it for the world. You've made me a better version of myself, and that makes me love you so much more. I'm so proud of you, Simmy.
Love,
Your wife
"Thank you, my love. Thank you for this, and for loving me and for everything you've done for me. I love you"
His words are soft and painfully honest as he gently sets the album aside. You've made him a better man. A better Simon. A happier Simon. A Simon that's slowly starting to heal.
It starts off with a soft kiss that slowly turns more desperate and needy to the point you're gently being pushed back onto the bed, your clothes are discarded, and Simon absolutely worships you. He kisses every inch he can reach and touching you in all the ways he knows you like.
And, yeah, Simon can be rough and fuck you stupid for hours, but tonight, he just wants to feel close to you, and make you feel as good as you make him feel by simply loving him. He's talking you through it, holding you while he makes sure you take every inch of his cock.
His strokes are slow and deep, just like his love for you, and he revels in the way your eyes roll back each time he slides into you to the hilt. The drag of his dick against your walls has you moaning and whining, and when he presses down on your pudgy lower belly to intensify the sensation, you're putty.
You two fuck the whole night like this, no matter how sensitive you are, you need to be close to each other.
And in the morning, he'll wake you up with his face buried in your pussy because he's out of his sappy mood and his only goal now is to absolutely ruin you.
Bonus: I can totally see Simon giving his dad the biggest middle finger known to man all the way in hell when he's standing by the altar on your wedding day. It just screams: 'fuck you, stupidly bastard. Despite all you've done to me and my family, despite all that's happened, I've persevered. I've overcome it all. Look at me now.'
Right after he's smiling up at the sky, knowing that his mum and brother are watching and that they would've loved you just as much as he does <3
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I hope you enjoyed!! I love all my boys <3
(If you find any typos, it's 2.am. give me a break pls)
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joycrispy · 10 months
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I'm seeing some confusion out and about over the title A Companion to Owls (generally along the lines of 'what have owls got to do with it???'), so I'd like to offer my interpretation (with a general disclaimer that the Bible and particularly the Old Testament are damn complicated and I'm not able to address every nuance in a fandom tumblr post, okay? Okay):
It's a phrase taken from the Book of Job. Here's the quote in full (King James version):
When I looked for good, then evil came unto me: and when I waited for light, there came darkness. My bowels boiled, and rested not: the days of affliction prevented me. I went mourning without the sun: I stood up, and I cried in the congregation. I am a brother to dragons, and a companion to owls. --(Job 30:29)
Job is describing the depths of his grief, but also, with that last line, his position in the web of providence.
Throughout the Old Testament, owls are a recurring symbol of spiritual devastation. Deuteronomy 4:17 - Isaiah 34:11 - Psalm 102: 3 - Jeremiah 50: 39...just to name a few (there's more). The general shape of the metaphor is this: owls are solitary, night-stalking creatures, that let out either mournful cries or terrible shrieks, that inhabit the desolate places of the world...and (this is important) they are unclean.
They represent a despair that is to be shunned, not pitied, because their condition is self-inflicted. You defied God (so the owl signifies), and your punishment is...separation. From God, from others, from the world itself. To call and call and never, ever receive an answer.
Your punishment is terrible, tormenting loneliness.
(and that exact phrase, "tormenting loneliness," doesn't come from me...I'm pulling it from actual debate/academia on this exact topic. The owls, and what they are an omen for. Oof.)
To call yourself a 'companion to owls,' then, is to count yourself alongside perhaps the most tragic of the damned --not the ones who defy God out of wickedness or ignorance, and in exile take up diabolical ends readily enough...but the ones who know enough to mourn what they have lost.
So, that's how the title relates to Job: directly. Of course, all that is just context. The titular "companion to owls," in this case, isn't Job at all.
Because this story is about Aziraphale.
The thing is that Job never actually defied God at all, but Aziraphale does, and he does so fully believing that he will fall.
He does so fully believing that he's giving in to a temptation.
He's wrong about that, but still...he's realized something terrifying. Which is that doing God's will and doing what's right are sometimes mutually exclusive. Even more terrifying: it turns out that, given the choice between the two...he chooses what's right.
And he's seemingly the only angel who does. He's seemingly the only angel who can even see what's wrong.
Fallen or not, that's the kind of knowledge that...separates you.
(Whoooo-eeeeee, tormenting loneliness!!!)
Aziraphale is the companion.
...I don't think I need to wax poetic about Aziraphale's loneliness and grappling with devotion --I think we all, like, get it, and other people have likely said it better anyway. So, one last thing before I stop rambling:
Check out Crowley's glasses.
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(screenshots from @seedsofwinter)
Crowley is the owl.
Crowley is the goddamn owl.
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awearywritersworld · 6 months
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she mumbled that i was peculiar
sukuna x reader summary: impressively, sukuna is still trying to find ways to deny his feelings for you. nevertheless, he keeps you safe from harm when a late night trip to the store doesn't go as planned. will seeing his violent nature for yourself change the way you feel about him? he seems to think so. w/c: 4.2k (oops) tags/warnings: angst to fluff. attempted kidnapping. canon typical violence. depictions of blood. reader throws up. reader is in shock for a bit. cursing. aged up!yuuji. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. *please mind the warnings for this chapter* a/n: i'm sorry this took so long! im ngl, i struggled quite a bit to write this chapter. i'm still unsure about the pacing, but here it is anyway. thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy! series masterlist // masterlist
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it's not often that you go out for the evening, but tonight is one such occasion. you leave around seven, excited to meet nobara and maki for dinner.
when yuuji falls asleep a few hours later, sukuna doesn't take over right away. he spends a while in his domain, engaging in what some people might call sulking.
before long, however, he begins to feel restless and he tells himself it's because he's grown accustomed to his finite hours of freedom. of course, it has nothing to do with your absence.
so he assumes control of his vessel's body and pulls a short novel from your bookshelf. settling on the couch, his fingertips brush over the cover: the stranger by albert camus
it's the first time he's ever been alone in your apartment, a fact he's well aware of, and his eyes wander to the front door. it'd be all too easy to pull it open, to make his way downstairs and out onto the street.
how long would it last before yuuji regained control? are you nearby? would you get caught up in the havoc he'd doubtlessly wreak?
the thought makes him grimace. returning his focus to the book in his hands, time seems to pass by faster as he makes his way through the pages.
even so, he deems the narrative a bit boring. in his (what's the opposite of humble?) opinion, dead mothers and nagging girlfriends don't make for the most captivating story, so his mind begins to wander once he happens upon the quote:
"so why marry me, then?" she said. i explained to her that it didn't really matter and that if she wanted to, we could get married. besides, she was the one who was doing the asking and all i was saying was yes. then she pointed out that marriage was a serious thing. i said, "no." she stopped talking for a minute and looked at me without saying anything. then she spoke. she just wanted to know if i would have accepted the same proposal from another woman, with whom I was involved in the same way. i said, "sure." then she said she wondered if she loved me, and there was no way i could know about that. after another moment's silence, she mumbled that i was peculiar, that that was probably why she loved me but that one day i might disgust her for the same reason.
sukuna thinks about you— the woman who forced her way into his solitude.
although, what if it hadn't been you? what if the brat had been involved with another woman? would he have eventually taken an interest in her too?
are you really that special, or is he just going crazy inside the cage that is itadori yuuji? the latter is much more likely, right?
he supposes he prefers the idea of madness over... feelings for some human.
all of a sudden, your apartment door seems much more inviting. would it be so bad if he were to step through it? what did he really have to lose?
yeah, that's right. he'll get up any second now and act on every horrible impulse he's been repressing. any second now... any second...
he can't quite figure out why he's unable to bring his limbs to move, weighed down by some force that's beyond him.
it's at that moment the door clicks open and for a split second, he thinks it must be his sign to go, but then you come waltzing in.
"'kuna!" you greet in an excited manner, disrupting the peaceful quiet.
kicking off your shoes haphazardly, you make your way over to him and promptly drop yourself into his lap. it elicits a bout of unwelcome clarity for the king of curses.
no, he wouldn't have taken an interest in just anyone, that much becomes obvious. it wasn't through a medium as flawed as chance that he came to... tolerate you. you're much too annoying for that to be the case.
"hello???" you wave your hand in front of his face. "i'm home."
"i can see that."
"welcome home, darling," you say in a deep voice, a poor imitation of him. "i missed you so much— that's what you're supposed to say."
yeah, definitely too annoying.
"but i didn't miss you." one of his hands comes to rest on your thigh, a betrayal of his preceding assertion.
"you're sitting alone reading—" you pause to inspect the book lying open beside him. "existential fiction about a nihilistic frenchman. of course you missed me."
he changes the topic rather swiftly. "you're drunk."
"i'm tipsy, at best." you roll your eyes. "can't i just be happy to see you?"
"you'd be the first."
"i don't mind making history."
you place a kiss on his lips, casual and affectionate in way that makes sukuna's body stiffen, and stand up.
"i need to get ready for bed, then we're gonna watch tv together because i missed you— gosh, see how easy that was?"
you run off to the bathroom and his body doesn't fully relax until he hears the shower turn on.
the thought of missing someone is a strange notion to him, because it implies eagerness and desire. for as long as he cares to remember, those emotions have been reserved for proclivities much more sinister.
so he hadn't missed you. he just would have preferred it if you stayed home. that's all.
when you return to the living room around fifteen minutes later, you're wearing one of yuuji's shirts, and as far as sukuna can tell, very little otherwise.
making yourself comfortable on the floor between his legs, you pass a hair tie behind you. "can you braid my hair?"
he's watched you get ready for bed enough times that he's fairly certain he can manage it. taking the tie from you, he still asks "why can't you do it?"
"because i'm sleepy," you frown, reaching for the tv remote.
gathering your hair in his hands and carefully dividing it into sections, he sighs. "you require so much looking after."
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"you're not going to die if you can't have cookies tonight." sukuna states dryly, glancing at the clock that reads eleven o'clock.
"please don't trivialize my struggle," you begin, pulling on your jacket. "i want miso butter cookies— my grandma's secret recipe."
most of what you need can be found in the kitchen, but a trip to the store is in order for a few final ingredients.
"my mistake," he huffs, rising to his feet. "how insensitive of me."
"oh, it's alright. just don't let it happen again."
"sure. i'll keep that in mind, princess." sliding the apartment door's chain lock off the track, he does little to hide the vexation in his tone.
just as he reaches for the handle, you stop him and wrap a scarf around his neck, forcing a hoodie into his hands. "put this on. you'll be cold."
he looks at you as if you're crazy. "i don't have to worry about things as insignificant as the weather."
"well, put it on anyway," you insist.
he decides that acquiescing will be easier than arguing for the next five minutes and slips the hoodie over head. when you both step out into the chilly air of night, there are still a decent number of people traveling the streets.
stopping at a crosswalk the next block over, you begin to prattle on about what you need to pick up and the different steps in your recipe. naturally, you completely miss it when the pedestrian sign turns green.
"come on," sukuna commands, his hand wrapping around your wrist and tugging you along with him. "i don't have all night."
you scoff. "to be fair, i didn't say you had to come with me."
"yeah well it's late. you shouldn't be out alone." there's a hint of exasperation in his voice, like he truly had no choice in the matter.
despite that, once you reach the other side of the street, his fingers slide down your palm and thread through yours.
you glance over at him and find he's looking off to the side, so you bite your lip to suppress your pleased smile. is he avoiding your gaze intentionally? you decide that bashfulness suits him better than you would have expected.
offering him a light squeeze of the hand, you hope it conveys your appreciation of his small display of affection.
"so, are you going to help me make the cookies?"
his lips press into a thin line. "as thrilling as that seems, i don't particularly have a penchant for baking."
"you think you'd humor me a little! you know, since i'm your only friend and all."
"if anyone else asked me such a ridiculous question, they wouldn't live to see tomorrow." you ponder whether he's joking and quickly decide that he isn't. "this is me humoring you."
"you're so mean to me."
"hardly."
"fine," you pout. "then you can't have any!"
"now, hold on." the threat does make him hesitate. you've come to learn that if there's one thing he loves as much as reading, it's food. "let's not be hasty."
you're approaching the store, the sliding doors just a few strides away.
"it's only fair! besides, you're not going to die if you can't have cookies," you throw his earlier words in his face.
he exhales deeply. "have i ever told you how irritating you are?"
"woah! now you're definitely not getting any, mister!"
"alright, alright," he groans as you step inside. "i'll help you bake your stupid cookies."
"perfect!" you exclaim as if you knew he'd give in eventually (you did). "then you can start by finding the miso paste while i get everything else!"
you scamper off before he can tell you not to order him around like some common servant. he's never even been grocery shopping, how the hell is he supposed to find anything in here?
wandering the aisles, he stews over how domestic this is. for god's sake— the king of curses, shopping for ingredients and making baked goods. what have you reduced him to?
just as he considers giving up, he spots the item he's looking for and grabs it so aggressively that it knocks a few packets of instant miso soup to the floor. wrinkling his nose in distaste for the entire experience, he sets off looking for you, though his efforts are to no avail.
he wonders where the hell you could have gone off to when a flickering light catches his eye, filling him with a strange sort of unease.
it's emanating from a narrow hallway tucked away in the back corner of the store. at the very edge of the hall, a phone with a familiar case is lying on the floor, the screen shattered.
his blood runs cold, a sensation that is fully unknown to him, and the miso paste slips from his fingers. he appears in the hallway the very next second and the sight that greets him ignites a furious hostility in the center of his being— heavy and consuming.
you're struggling against one man as he drags you out of the backdoor and into an alley. another man is holding the door open, urging his partner to hurry up.
the hand over your mouth keeps you from yelling, but you're unsure you would have been able to make a sound regardless.
one second you're cast into darkness, and the next, the light seems blinding. the flashing is unceasing and it makes your head hurt.
two limbs are wrapped around your torso, keeping you firmly in place, and your arms are trapped at your sides. you might be kicking your legs, but they may just be dragging along too. you really can't be sure.
there's a thrum of a heartbeat at your back. it's pace is unforgiving, the intensity mirroring that of your own. you've a vague concern that your heart may very well beat right out of your chest.
then there's an abrupt shift in the air and a sickening crack echoes through out the night. crumpling onto the concrete, you think it must have started raining before you realize that the droplets on your face are warm.
you wipe at your cheek and your fingers stain crimson, the color matching that of an increasingly large puddle seeping across the pavement beside you.
there's a heap lying a few feet away and you recognize that it's wearing clothes. it's a sight you struggle to make sense of.
needing to focus on something else, your eyes find sukuna and the expression he's wearing is fierce and unreserved. "tell me what you wanted with her."
you've never heard him speak in such a way. his tone is low, his cadence nothing short of threatening.
"s-s'kuna?" your own voice sounds foreign to you and it goes unheard by him.
he has your attacker pressed against the brick wall of the alley, both hands wrapped around his throat. he's too livid to realize the pressure on his windpipe is preventing him from answering.
sukuna throws him to the other side of the alleyway out of frustration, the man rolling onto his back and wheezing to appease his lungs.
"tell me!" sukuna commands again, louder this time. less collected.
the man scrambles away from his looming figure. "th-they sent us, told us they needed her for an important matter."
"who?"
"they'll kill me if i tell you—"
sukuna crouches down, laughing dryly. "and what do you suppose i'm going to do?"
his eyes are almost unrecognizable to you. they're frenzied— a few shades deeper than the scarlet you've grown so fond of.
"you'll k-kill me either way, so at least i'll die with honor—"
"tch. useless." sukuna waves his hand, and you can hardly comprehend what happens right in front of you.
neat red lines appear across the man's body, then it ruptures into nothing at all. the only evidence that he was ever there in the first place is his blood.
the stench of which is perhaps the worst part— intense, coppery, and hot. it makes your eyes water, and before you know it, you're hunched over and emptying the contents of your stomach onto the ground.
sukuna is at your side in an instant, pulling your hair away from your face, but while one of your hands is braced against the concrete, the other endeavors to push him away.
his body doesn't budge at the contact, but he takes a step back anyway in an attempt to respect your wishes.
your mind is a mess filled with racing thoughts— what the fuck? this cannot be happening. what the hell even happened in this first place? that man was there and then he wasn't.
inhaling sharply, you wipe at your mouth and shift to pull your knees to your chest.
"what..." you trail off, surveying the unutterable, incomprehensible scene before you. "what did you do?"
he doesn't respond, though his features noticeably soften. somewhere in the back of your mind, you know very well what he did, but you can't help repeating. "what did you do?"
"we need to leave." it's not that sukuna couldn't handle whoever might show up, but seeing as this is your reaction, he has no desire to. "if you let me touch you, i can take us home."
you take a moment to think about it, then nod wordlessly. as soon as his hand falls on your shoulder, you're met with that same sensation you felt the night gojo teleported you and yuuji home after one too many drinks.
though this time, the sick feeling in your stomach isn't caused by liquor. you don't stand up, you don't so much as move a muscle when you feel the surface beneath you shift from concrete to carpet.
sukuna breathes out your name, his uncertainty evidenced by the way he's shoved his hands into his pockets. meeting his eye, you reiterate the same inquiry once more. "what did you do?"
it's almost as if you want him to tell you that he didn't do anything. that the whole experience was some disturbing nightmare.
"those men would have hurt you."
"that doesn't mean they deserved to die." you choke on the final word.
"yes— it does."
with that, silence hangs in the air like a suffocating miasma.
looking to your hands, you're reminded of the blood you've been spattered with. "i need to wash up."
you still don't move from your spot, too fixated on your flesh and the dreadful hue that it's been painted with. sukuna notices now that you're trembling.
he approaches you hesitantly before extending his hand. "let me help you."
you decline his offer, shying away from him. "i think you've done enough already."
god, the look in your eye is utterly despondent. he struggles to swallow the lump that forms in his throat.
his arm falls limply to his side and he looks across the room, your copy of the stranger earning his attention.
he's overcome with chagrin when he realizes that his concern brought about by camus' quote the other night was wholly misguided. he'd been focused on his own feelings, whether they were genuine or simply wrought by his isolation.
how foolish was he to ever question what you truly mean to him? with the anguish that's settled in his chest at the sight of your current state, the fact he ever doubted it makes him feel like a hopeless idiot.
had he any sense at all, the part that resonated with him would have been—
she mumbled that i was peculiar, that that was probably why she loved me but that one day i might disgust her for the same reason.
disgust. is that what you're feeling now? he's certain it is.
it was just last week that he relayed the story of his past. you're the only person alive to know the truth of how his wickedness came to be, and you met him with unconditional sympathy and understanding.
you pulled him close and embraced him, but now that you've seen him for what he truly is...? you can barely stand to touch him and it's like a knife to his heart.
you're so fucking warm— like the sun against his skin after weeks of endless rain.
and if you're the sun, surely he is the moon— cold and barren on his own, but brilliant when in the presence of your light.
to be without that? to be without you? it's a prospect too terrible for him to bear. it makes his stomach twist miserably.
you're startled (as is he) when his form falls to the floor, his knees meeting the carpet with a dull thud. he calls out your name again, but this time, his voice cracks as he speaks. "please."
he doesn't have a clue what he's even asking for. a chance to explain? forgiveness? a way to turn back time?
you don't say anything, but you do shift your gaze to him. he knows that he needs to fix this, so he wracks his mind for the right words.
"i didn't enjoy killing those men." he's somewhat surprised to find he's telling the truth.
"you didn't?" your voice is so small and timid that he can hardly decipher your words.
"no. my only concern was to keep you safe— to make sure they never put their hands on you ever again. all i felt was rage and... and... guilt. i should have never left you alone and it's my fault—"
"stop," you interrupt him.
there are tears welling in your eyes, making it difficult for sukuna to breathe. he's positive you're going to tell him that his intentions were of little consequence and that you never want to see him ever again.
instead, you push yourself forward and collapse against his body, your own wracked with violent sobs. the reality of the situation is only just now hitting you. it'd been much easier to focus on what sukuna had done, rather than what almost happened to you.
"i was so scared, 'kuna."
and still, despite the way you're clinging to his shirt and burying your face in chest, he's under the impression that it's him you were afraid of.
"i'm sorry," he tells you earnestly. "i never meant to frighten you."
"n-not of you. those men." you're struggling to speak in between desperate gasps. "why did they do that? what did they want with me?"
"i don't know." though, he is going to find out.
sukuna is not a man well versed in comfort, so he's not entirely sure why he begins rocking you back and forth, but he does it anyway.
when you finally start to breathe a little easier, he mumbles into your hair, "come on. let's get you cleaned up."
he doesn't give you a chance to respond before he scoops you up in his arms and carries you to the bathroom. setting you down on the counter gently, he searches the linen closet for a cloth.
it's quiet, save for your intermittent sniffling, as he runs it under warm water and wrings it out. his free hand moves to rest against the side of your neck and he dabs at the blood on your face, rinsing the washcloth every now and then.
he tries his best not to show it, but sukuna is agonizing over what might be going through your mind.
do you still feel safe with him? have your feelings changed? do you still love him, even when you've been so harshly reminded what he's capable of?
when you speak for the first time your words are hoarse, barely above a whisper. "thank you for saving me, sukuna."
he thinks about telling you not to thank him, not when it shouldn't have happened in the first place. he left your side, an error in judgement he'll never forgive himself for.
he considers your mortality— your weakness— in relation to his feelings for you. he's always seen this exceptionally human quality as despicable.
but now? all it does is terrify him.
"in the past, i was only concerned with my own whims and desires." his hand moves to cradle your face, his thumb running over your cheekbone. "though after tonight... you have to know..."
it's clear that he's struggling. his eyebrows draw together and his mouth twitches as he ponders his next words.
"i care about you, angel." his voice is hushed when he adds, "very much."
your eyes widen briefly and you murmur his name, but your mind is still reeling from the events of the past twenty minutes and you can't think of anything more to say. you're emotionally exhausted in a way you would have never thought possible.
it's plain to him too, so he knows his next question is selfish, but he can't go on without knowing. "does what you saw tonight change things between us?"
the silence preceding your answer seems to stretch on forever.
"i thought it would," you confess eventually. it was as if you'd put up a wall in your mind separating sukuna the king of curses from sukuna the man you spend your evenings with.
and it's difficult to reconcile the fact that the hands you saw used to murder two men are the same hands that are caressing your face so delicately.
at some point, however, you realized that the only time you felt fear tonight was when you were without him. his arrival and ensuing actions inspired shock and apprehension, though in some twisted way, you knew it meant you were safe. "but it doesn't."
the next question tumbles from your lips thoughtlessly. "does that make me a bad person?"
he chuckles and some of the tension in the room dissipates. "i think i'm the last one on earth that can pass moral judgement on you."
he tucks your hair behind your ear and scans your face, relief coursing through his body when he sees you smile. in this moment, there isn't anything else in the world he would have asked for.
"i guess you're right."
and now, the hand over your mouth is your own, an attempt to stifle your tired giggles. the light of the bathroom is warm and steady. sukuna's hands rest atop your hips, his touch firm but comforting. while you can't feel your own heartbeat, you're positive it must be beating in time with his.
when you crawl into bed that night sukuna pulls you close, your back pressed to his bare chest. you're thankful for the softness of his demeanor, because you need it tonight more than ever.
he doesn't recede to his domain until yuuji wakes up the following morning. he's determined to keep an eye on you as you sleep, to watch the slow rise and fall of your chest with newfound gratitude.
he knows he needs to speak with the brat about what happened. someone is after you and while he hates to admit it, he knows he can't ensure your safety alone.
and he will keep you safe, no matter the cost.
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taglist: @96jnie @ay0nha @sad-darksoul @bbysatoruuu @luciiferian @risuola @lirasmoon @disaster-rose @archivist-ghoul606 @creative1writings @sloppyzengarden @omismicrowave @cecesharktales @tanyeonn @hiqhkey @ruixrei @yellowsubiesdance @thefallofruins @anything-and-everything-here69 @emzalot @elusivemoon @annoyingstrawberryballoon @miabiar @hyeon-yi @iluv-ace @thepup356 @browneyedgirl22 @lantsovheiress // users in bold could not be tagged. if i forgot to tag anyone, my apologies!! just give me a heads up.
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dalliancekay · 3 months
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Aziraphale does NOT need to suffer MORE
Can't believe I have to say this. TW: grief, mourning, death (sorry) I have, since falling into the fandom 6 months ago to escape real life, seen many takes on how Aziraphale needs to suffer in S3 to match Crowley's suffering. Mainly as the counterpart to the moment Crowley thinks he lost Aziraphale as he's looking for him desperately in the burning bookshop.
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Then drinks, we suppose, to dull his pain, waiting for the Armageddon. Also, the way Crowley suffers at the bandstand argument, the 'I Forgive You' moments, which many people find utterly devastating and incredibly heartless from Aziraphale. Not to mention when he doesn't react in the 'right way' to Crowley's confession in the Final 15. And then on top of that, 'abandons' Crowley. Oh and also for, and I quote: "The smug and entitled way Aziraphale went around in S2 assuming Crowley would love and follow him everywhere." And for all this pain that Crowley endured for him, Aziraphale should suffer in S3, to I assume, even out the scores. Some people want to see him lose it, show his emotions, to cry or beg or otherwise show how much he misses Crowley and how very sorry he is for what he's done.
Now for the TW grief content I motioned above. You can skip to the next sentence in bold.
WE ALL SUFFER DIFFERENTLY I was on holiday late September last year, visiting my mum, stepfather and my two younger brothers. We went to a cousin's wedding. It was great. The day after, as I was hanging out reading a book my mum got a call. The kind of call every mother fears. My youngest brother (he was 27) died in an accident. We needed to speak to police and the coroner. She cried and cried. She's still crying. She asks questions. She gets no answers. I did not cry. I talked to the police. I googled a funeral home. I bought my brother his last set of clothes. He lived in a hoodie and torn black jeans. Mum wanted a suit. But he died in the one he bought for the wedding. I texted a lot of people. I bought snacks for the many friends who came to the funeral and wanted to speak to us after. My grief feels like a vice. I am not sad. I do not appear sad. Contrary to what people expect. But I am ANGRY. I am furious. But nobody can see this. I am not fine and I wish no one would ever* ask how I was again. TW/Personal content over. Since I was small (because I am weird like that) I genuinely wondered if, finding myself in danger, I could scream like people in films do. I don't think I could. I cope with hard situations, fear and stress and anxiety by shutting down, sometimes by retreating too, by furiously trying to find a way out. And I think Aziraphale does the same. And that's why I love him so much. And why I feel get him and understand that people sometimes can't tell how much he's actually feeling. I also express love the way Aziraphale does - by organising things for people I love, inviting them places, making plans. When Crowley said you call me for three things (and it's basically any old reason) I felt SO SEEN. This is what I would do with a friend who I know is feeling unmoored, sad, stuck. I'd text them with any old thing. I'd never actually say I love you, how can I help though, I would try to get them to talk, meet me, go somewhere. Aziraphale does not express emotions the same way as Crowley.
But his emotions are valid nonetheless. He is worried for Crowley from around 3 minutes into their acquaintanceship. And he NEVER stops worrying.
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And are we quite sure he has never lost Crowley?
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How many times did Aziraphale's heart freeze in horror when he realised Hell has taken Crowley and he had no idea if he'll ever come back and what is happening to him?
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How did Aziraphale spent the night after vanquishing the demons and starting a war? He had no idea where Crowley was. He was probably sick with worry that Hell just took him away. We didn't see him drink, but surely, the worry must have been overwhelming. The wait for what will happen.
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ALL his worries over the Arrangement. Was he worried for himself? Do we really think that?
Crowley thought he lost Aziraphale in S1, yes, we saw that. And what happened to the angel then?
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He got blown into atoms which I bet wasn't pleasant and when he arrives in Heaven he limps. Why is he hurt? Why is he quickly pretending he isn't? Why is he always hiding how he feels? Also, he immediately deserts, wants no part in the Holy War and quickly finds an extremely unconventional way to get back. It's not a grand gesture, he doesn't deliberate, doesn't worry that he will Fall (although surely that must have been what he thought), there's no pomp around it, he thinks it and then does it. No hesitation.
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Is this coming from an angel who just can't leave Heaven behind and longs to be a part of it? Who loves to follow rules? And let's not forget in those moments Aziraphale thought Crowley was most likely gone. That he probably left for Alpha Centauri. Last he heard from him he was told he was talking to an old friend and had no time for him. Why we NEVER talk about how that might have felt for Aziraphale?
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Things are not as simple as Aziraphale has been supressing his emotions and lying to himself about how he feels and he should get over it and become free. That's not how this works. He was suppressing his emotions OUT OF LOVE. His main goal was always to keep Crowley safe. They simply couldn't run away or hoodwink Heaven and Hell. They had nowhere to go. They had no hope and yet they kept loving each other. That's courage. I know we all grew up with Romeo and Juliet and Heathcliff and Cathy and we FORGOT that those were CAUTIONARY tales. And this is not what Aziraphale wants for them. He would never allow himself to go so fast he would hurt Crowley. He feels guilty enough for agreeing to the Arrangement and for meeting Crowley at all when he knows they can be discovered and punished at any point. And Crowley knows it and RESPECTS it. He does not tolerate Aziraphale's decision to not go on a date and to hell with circumstances. He understands Aziraphale's reasoning and he respects Aziraphale's decision. Don't forget, they have NO POWER. They can't change Heaven and Hell. They can't stop believing in God and work on their religious trauma. Their Heaven and Hell are real places with real power and they BELONG to them. Aziraphale's trauma and his personality are deeply intertwined and he'd probably never be the kind of person who is open in showing their grief or stress. He will learn to be more open, I' sure. With his love especially, we see him reaching for and touching his demon in S2. Openly being with him, looking at him without guarding himself. They got a little bit of freedom for themselves despite ALL odds. So. Just because Aziraphale is not crying and screaming and I dunno, tearing his hair out or whatever some people would have him do, does not mean he isn't overflowing with pain, fear, uncertainty, doubts, worries, and so much anxiety that if he let it all out, half of the solar system would turn to ashes.
Aziraphale does not need to suffer in S3 to level out Crowley's suffering. They are, unfortunately, equal in their pain as they are in love. If there is one thing Crowley would never abide, it'd be this take from the fandom. * One more note on grief: (obviously from my personal experience) As initiated by @anthony-crowleys-left-nut in a comment
It's not that I mind to know people care and worry etc, but asking how I am can only end in me lying (fine, thank you) and both of us knowing it's not really true and feeling awkward or not lying (I feel like shit, mostly cos I can't sleep and think the world is a stupid unfair place) and both of us feeling awkward anyway. Does that make sense? I wish I could tell friends/colleagues to ask what I've been up to or something similar instead. What I've been reading (um, AO3, but I'll make something up), watching, do I want to go see some spring flowers bloom (I do).
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novantinuum · 5 months
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Steven's Breakdown Was Inevitable From the Very Beginning
I feel like the thing that fucks me up the most about Steven Q. Universe and how well conceived he is as a character is that the fundamental building blocks of why he reached his breaking point in SU: Future were laid out as clear as day in the span of legit only the first four episodes of the original show. The writing was literally always on the wall that future him would struggle with matters of self worth and identity in relationship to the others around him.
Let's take a look:
Gem Glow
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"Awesome! What are these things?"
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Foundational Trauma #1: Steven's home is always either under threat or actively being wrecked by antagonistic forces/beings, and he constantly copes with this by pushing down his fear in favor of a curiosity and silver linings based mindset.
Look at his initial shock when he opens the door and gets tackled by one of these things, and then his response when one of them spits acid:
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The kid's freaked the hell out about all this, and while I do think there's a part of Steven that genuinely IS curious about what these lil critters are, I think he's subconsciously using that curiosity as a way to distract himself from his own fears and anxieties. This is Steven actively learning how to ignore the deeper problems in favor of emoting a facade to the others in his life that he can totally handle himself in scary situations like these.
The underlying reason why is incredibly apparent, when you look at the example from the next episode-
Laser Light Canon
"I don't know what a magic lady like her ever saw in a plain old dope like me..."
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Genuinely- from the bottom of my heart- I think the above quote from Greg is a moment where his own insecurities around the Gems actually rubbed off on Steven.
At this point in time, Steven may be living with the Gems... but he hasn't started to harness any of his powers at all, so in his own head he might as well be the same as his dad- another human, just one who happens to have a gem! But the way Greg talks about himself... given Steven was living with him in the van for years before moving in to the beach house, he had to have heard negative self-talk from his dad like this before.
And then there's the rest of the Crystal Gems... always speaking of Rose with such reverence as if she were an all-powerful goddess... and Steven can't help but look back at himself, and his gem that won't work... the gem that the others still identify as Rose's...
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"Your gem-! You have Rose's gem!"
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And maybe he starts to wonder if- without any working powers- he's just a plain ol' dope like his Dad, too.
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"Please work... Unlock! Activate! Go! Please-!! Everyone's counting on you, you can't just be useless!"
Foundational Trauma #2: Steven has Rose's gem, and as such, is constantly living under the silent expectation to live up to a standard that he simply cannot ever hope to achieve, because he doesn't KNOW her and he never will.
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I want to highlight one of Steven's expressions while his dad is talking about Rose- look at that sad look. My god, I just wanna hug him. This is the expression of a child who has already come to terms with the fact that his only relationship with his mom is through the rose tinted stories that other people tell him about her.
Cheeseburger Backpack
So. Steven has learned so far that he needs to push down his feelings and emote a false veneer of cheer and bravery even when he's afraid, because the rest of the people in his life have expectations and hopes for him due to the legacy of his parentage and he can't bear the thought of letting them down. (And in a sad way, at this point "letting them down" literally just means... being an ordinary human boy. I believe Steven at this stage of the show is flat out scared to be human, because to be human is to fail at being a Gem, and no amount of love and sacrifice in the name of humanity in the seasons to come could've ever saved him from the fundamental fact that the wedge between him and this whole half of his being was already drawn long before the events of season 1 even started. But I digress.)
Let's see where we go from there. Let's check out Steven's first "mission." Or as Pearl puts it about 35 episodes later, his first "test."
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"Yeah... they can't all be winners."
This episode is tinted with a little bit of tragedy for me on rewatch, because I genuinely do think the Gems handled the situation as well as they could've. They were supportive of Steven's successful ploys, and (for the most part) responded with grace when he majorly blundered and left the Goddess Statue at home. The main problem, however, is that Steven has already developed a bit of a complex about impressing the three of them-
Foundational Trauma #3: Even when they claim otherwise, Steven has convinced himself that affection from the Gems is transactional, and that when he messes up he's not truly a part of the Crystal Gems.
Of course we the audience know this isn't true- I mean, hell, Amethyst even said as much in episode one after her slip-up ("and you're fun to have around, even if your gem IS useless!")... that the Crystal Gems wouldn't be the same without him. But Steven... the poor kid is a complicated little guy living a complicated life, and whether they intended it or not, the language used they've used around him thus far has not backed up their attempts at fully embracing him, human parentage and all.
Thus, Steven just spends the entire episode wracked with anxiety trying to find creative non-power using ways to make the mission easier so he can convince them he's useful to have around.
Look how nervous he gets even when all three of them are visibly and vocally supportive of his presence here:
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This is the face of a boy who feels like he's under constant judgement and scrutiny from those around him.
Blessedly, viewing this episode in isolation, he experiences a brief moment of mental respite where he finally accepts the Gems' encouragement and agrees that his ideas 'can't all be winners,' but this lesson does not stick for him moving forward. A shame, really.
Together Breakfast
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"What's the matter, Steven?" "I wanted us all to have breakfast together, so I made Together Breakfast! But everyone keeps leaving..." "Oh, that's nice..."
Taken in context with what we've learned already in the last three episodes, Steven's desperation to spend quality time with the Gems here and his sadness that they keep leaving him alone doesn't just exist within a vacuum. He spends the whole morning watching them shuffle in and out of the temple, or come back from missions he wasn't invited on, and with the disastrous result of the LAST mission he went on probably fresh in his mind it's not hard to understand why this bothers him.
Foundational Trauma #4: Steven internalizes that the price of "not being useful" is that the Gems actively ignore him, meaning that the only way to guarantee their attention is to work as hard as he can to become a stronger member of the team.
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I know this screenshot is usually used as a lighthearted meme, but I wanted to include it because I think it's a good example of how Steven's intense desire to impress permeates every facet of his personality at times. Just LOOK at how desperate he is to make Garnet laugh at his joke, to be the one that's at very least "fun to have around," as Amethyst put it in episode one.
The Gems do eventually drop what they're doing to spend time with Steven by the conclusion of this episode, but this only comes after Steven shows his growing strength and "proves" himself by saving their butts from the breakfast monster.
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If he successfully gained their attention in literally any other way he might've come away from this episode with a different lesson, but no. Instead, his fears were proven true- the Gems value strength and utility, and if he's not exhibiting that, then what use is he to them?
These fears of his can be seen weaving throughout the foundational fabric of the entire show, but I think Steven lays out what he sees as his "stakes" in the clearest way possible in the episode 'An Indirect Kiss.'
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"But- if I don't have powers, then I can't hang out with Amethyst, or Garnet, o-or Pearl, and- I-I can't go on missions!"
And these same insecurities even rear their ugly head as late as the movie.
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"I can't believe this... for the first time in years, everyone's in danger, everybody needs me, and- I'm useless!"
Powers = Utility = Worth = Other's love, for Steven. Everything is transactional to the end, which is a hilarious double standard he's set for himself when he's made his reputation as the kid who always listens and encourages and gives others a chance to change, no matter their messy history with him.
__
So let's recap and restate those foundational traumas from Steven's perspective.
One: The only way to cope when your life is constantly under threat is to bury the damage and pretend to be fine.
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Two: Everyone expects you to live up to the standards of someone you're not.
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Three: The Gems only love you when you're of use to them.
Four: If you ever stop being useful, the Gems won't want anything more to do with you.
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In sum, Steven's habit of burying his feelings for the benefit of others was there from the very beginning, not just since 'The Test.'
Those unreachable standards he felt so daunted and intimidated by all his life were the ones set by Rose, at first... but over the course of the series, the dynamic of this shifted. As Rose's influence fell into the background, Steven's rose into the front. And so it's with great irony that- by the time of Steven Universe: Future, the expectations this exhausted, worn down teenager is fighting to once again achieve are the ones HE set for himself. Many of young Steven's selfless actions during the war are quite admirable when analyzed in isolation, but almost none of them are sustainable. He set himself on fire just to save the world, but teen Steven is genuinely unable to see this for what it is yet- as a tragic sacrifice of his own childhood. You can't burn your own ends for others forever, not at all. His breakdown was simply inevitable.
When it comes to the interconnected beliefs three and four, these are exactly why the ultimate confrontation at the end of I Am My Monster HAD to be one fueled by selfless love. Steven is at his absolute lowest at this point- he's everything he fears he's become, trapped in a form that's nearly incapable of reason. He's big and angry and spiky because that's a part of the facade- because a part of him WANTS to scare the Gems away, wants to be left alone forever, believing this the fate he deserves as price for his misdeeds.
In this form, by his own definitions he is NOT useful to the Crystal Gems at all.
But they don't care.
Because it never WAS about Steven's 'usefulness' to them, they simply love him for being Steven.
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With this in mind, the conclusion of Steven Universe: Future wasn't just a salve to teen Steven's immediate struggles, it was a salve to the foundational insecurities that have been plaguing him his entire life.
And hopefully... from this point on... his family's shows of love and encouragement will be enough to finally convince Steven that he's more than worth their time...
No matter what path the future leads him on, and no matter what form he takes.
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fuwushiguro · 10 months
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Hi love! Your content is great and always makes my head spin🤤 I was wondering if you could maybe do fitness trainer Toji with a plush reader? Like you go to the gym wanting to slim down and ask for a trainer and before any of the other loser trainers can get to you, Toji steps in. He is constantly reassuring you the entire time And at the end of the session he just can’t resist from not touching you🥺🫶🏼 thank you in advance and I hope you have the best day possible!
I can literally imagine Toji quoting this in his head as he hears you talk negatively about your body (not proofed I'm lazy) warnings: chubby!reader, body issues, raw sex, slightly public, praise etc etc lmk if i missed any
"Huh?"
"I literally need a gym trainer who's going to help me look like a rake."
"I- what? A fuckin' rake? What are you talking about?"
"My boyfriend cheated on me, and of course the girl he slept with is tiny. He left me for her... I don't want him back but I want to prove a point!" you explain, looking at him with hopeful eyes, desperate for him to help with your mission.
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He stared at you, and it scared you a little. You aren't sure if you've said something wrong or if he just had no interest in your tragic love life. But you can only assume he doesn't get many clients with this attitude.
"Fine, kid. But listen, I'm not helping you 'look like a rake'." he tells you.
"B-But..."
"I'll help you train. If you lose weight, whatever. If you gain muscle... I think that'll be a better revenge body to make your ex regret leaving you." he explains.
"O-Oh... really? Okay, I trust you."
He smirks at that.
It's not often he's trusted by women.
"I hate sit ups." you pant, breathlessly.
"It's your last set, just do it 'n then you can go home." he tells you, as he sits beside you drinking some water from his comically large bottle. By the size of it, you'd think he'd be the one who had been working out for the last hour.
"C'mere." he shuffles his body so that he's closer to you, positioning your legs and hips like you're weightless. "You might find it easier now. I'll stay here, gimme ten more."
"Ten?!"
"Do it."
You sigh, lying flat as you mentally prepare yourself for how bad your stomach is about to ache. Your cheeks fill as you blow out a puff of air. You're painfully aware of his eyes on you, and honestly, you're embarrassed. You begin to sit up again and again as you think about his incredible physique. About how he surely thinks the same way as your ex boyfriend.
Your eyes lock with his with ever sit up you perform, his hands grabbing your knees to keep you in place. Your noses almost touch and his eyes are filled with what you can only assume is disgust. You're humiliating yourself trying to make yourself appear more attractive to the male species.
"Aaaand done, good job, kid." he smiles at you, his small mouth scar pulling slightly as he does. "So, wanna make this a regular thing?"
You hold up a finger as you catch your breath, eventually nodding. He holds his hand out to you, helping you to your feet with ease. He walks away from you, tilting his head and indicating for you to follow. You aren't sure where he's taking you, but you follow mindlessly.
"My calendar is in my office, I'll get you booked in for a few sessions this month and then you can just give them your card details at the fron desk." he explains.
"Sure, sounds good." you smile, he walks into his office first and holds the door opening, closing it right after you come in. Your ears prick when you hear the door lock, but for whatever reason you don't feel alarmed.
The air is knocked from your lungs as you feel his hands on your waist, lifting you into the air and practically slamming you onto his desk.
"W-What are you doing?!" you gasp.
"Can I kiss you?" he asks, it's almost polite but not really. He's expecting one answer, and luckily for you you're nodding before you can think of declining. He hikes up your leg and squeezes your plush thigh as his lips connect with yours. "You're so soft... so fuckin' perfect."
"Shut up." you laugh, you try to kiss him again but he pulls away.
"I'm serious." he lifts your up your sports bra and tosses it aside, grabbing a handful of your large chest. He pushes you backwards so that your spine is flat against his desk, tugging off your leggings with no hesitation. He peppers kisses across your tender skin. Your thighs, your tummy, your heavy tits. "There's nothin' wrong with your body, y'know? Your ex is a fuckin' pussy."
Your body tenses up, feeling horrendously aware of how exposed your figure is and how he's examining you.
"I- I was too heavy for him." you pant, unsure whether to try and chat casually about it or make a run for your clothes and the exit. "I don't blame him."
"You weigh the same as paper to me, darlin'." he smirks, picking you up and making you wrap your legs around his waist. He slams you against the wall as you makeout heavily. "You want this cock? F-Feel how hard I am for ya?"
"P-Please. You're so big.. please fuck me." you beg. You paw at his shirt, desperate to feel the muscles that you could clearly see beneath.
His facial expression is almost menacing as he knows he's won, he's got you exactly where he wants you and you're begging for his cock. Thick fingers dig into malleable flesh, bruises of his name signed into your skin like a binding contract that you're his new favourite play thing.
"You're so fuckin' perfect, sweetheart. Love cute bodies like yours..." he tells you, staring into your eyes to catch your expression, grinning at the way your cheeks flush and a bead of sweat forms in your hairline.
"Aah! Ah, fuck.. 'h my god..." you moan, the embarrassment overwhelming you and the feeling of his heavy cock splitting you open making your heart race.
He begins a brutal pace, easily holding your body up with one muscular arm as he slams into you, his free hand tweaking your pert nipple. The way your eyes cross dumbly as he ruins your insides almost makes him blow his load on the spot.
"Too— mmmnn.." you moan, unable to form a coherent thought.
"Too what?" he laughs a little, "Too? Have I fucked you so stupid you already can't think? Oh sweetheart... think I'm in love." he tells you as he kisses your neck.
Your fingers scratch his back repeatedly and he can only his from the pain and pleasure of it all. He's happy to be marked by you, he's going to do the same to your insides after all.
"'m gonna cum, I'm— ah—!" your cunt tightens around him as you finish, and soon enough he's pressing his body as much as he can into yours, pinning you between him and the wall as his balls tighten and he paints your desperate, wanting walls.
You pant against each other, neither of you moving for a while. All you can bring yourself to do is catch your breath and stare into his jade coloured eyes. And eventually, he helps you down and offers you a towel before sitting at his desk and checking through his calendar.
"Are you free Friday night?" he asks.
"O-Oh, Toji, I'm too exhausted from that workout to even think about my next training session." you chuckle a little, wiping yourself down before collecting your scattered clothing.
"No, baby, I'm takin' you on a date." he smiles at you earnestly. "Perfect body, perfect pussy, and newly single. You're crazy if you think I'm not taking full advantage of the opportunity to make you mine."
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© 2023 fuwushiguro
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bubblebbg · 1 year
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would you be able to do a Miguel x f!reader where the reader is a civilian who's the sunshine to his grumpy? She's pretty much the definition of the quote "the violence it took to be this kind". She had an abusive childhood, and unfortunately she's currently up in an abusive relationship, she tries really hard to hide her pain with warmth and laughter, hiding her bruises with long sleeves in the summer and concealer.
This is my first request, I'm so happy! I wasn't really comfortable writing the physical abuse part (I don't want to misrepresent this issue) , so I've made it to where the reader is in an unhappy relationship instead. I hope this is along the lines of what you wanted. :)
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞.
Miguel O'Hara x reader
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To him, you're one of those people that deserves better, deserves the best. Today especially, that's what you should be getting. If Miguel could, he'd hand you worlds on a silver platter. But he can't. Not with your boyfriend around to stop him.
Part 2
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"Your boyfriend is the biggest asshole I've ever met. Come on, you have to know this by now." Miguel has pulled you to the balcony of your apartment and away from the music and festivities, his jaw clenched with anger as he seethes. He's never liked your boyfriend; there's you, the sweet, kind woman who's always considerate, endlessly patient, practically saintly in nature. And then there's your boyfriend, some scum of the earth who's only ever been callous and cold during your interactions. Miguel has tried and tried and tried to keep his mouth shut about it, but the way your smile faltered as you explained that he couldn't take off work to be at your birthday party is his last straw. "Seriously, today of all day's he has to work? Say the word and I'm sending that douchebag flying through a wall-"
"Miguel, stop it. It's fine, he's just a busy guy you know? And I'm sure you throw enough people around already." You chuckle, but the sadness doesn't quite leave your eyes. You sip some of the champagne in your glass, sighing as you let the alcohol numb some of your senses. Looking out at the cityscape, arms folded on the railing. He really wishes you knew how much you deserve, and the selfish part of him wants to be the one to give that to you.
When you catch him staring at you, at the way the lights of the city glow on your face, he turns forward, sighing and running a hand through his hair. "I just don't get it is all. You could have anyone you wanted, why him? Hell, you're better off alone than with him. If I could make the decisions for you, he would've been gone a long time ago."
You step closer to him and rest your head on his shoulder, eyes closed and the champagne drained from your glass. "I know you're concerned about me, but in the end these decisions are mine to make. I'll talk to him after the party. Until then, how's everything at work? Still got a lot on your hands?"
A smile plays at his lips, feeling a bit warm from the touch. "Hey, don't go changing the subject on me. We need to talk about this."
"You change the subject on me all of the time! Humor me on my birthday, please." He rolls his eyes because he can't believe that you'd play the birthday card on him, but he also knows he can never say no to you. Not with the way you look at him. So he puts an arm around your shoulders and lets a breath out his nose.
"Still stressful, but not so bad. I guess your whole 'have meetings to help people with their mission strategy instead of just yelling at them' plan has been working." You laugh at that, eyes crinkling as you lean more into him. You look good like this, the cheery person you usually are, not the one being let down by their partner. "See? And how hard was that? If I had spider powers like you, I'd be the ultimate diplomatic leader and badass." He can't stop the laughter that bubbles up in his chest when you punch and kick the air to emphasize your badassery.
"Your form is terrible," he smirks, "You'd be dead in seconds."
"And if it weren't for me, every spider ever would have quit because of your nagging."
"Right, right, whatever makes you feel better, civilian."
This is how it's supposed to be, the way it was before you decided to date this guy. It was always you and Miguel before: him carrying all of your grocery bags as you raved about some new hobby, you and him on the roof of your apartment building, him pointing out flaws in a movie at the theater while you ate all the popcorn, him begrudgingly pushing you on a park swing despite his assertations that you were in fact too old to still do this. It hits him all at once. He's missed you. Your absence leaves gaps in his life that no one else can fill.
"Hey," he mumbles, "I know you said you didn't want any gifts, but I got you something. Happy birthday."
Your eyes widen as he timidly hands you a rectangular box, his gaze turned to the city and a light blush on his face. He watches through the corner of his eyes as you open it. Inside is a silver necklace with a lily-of-the-valley preserved in resin, the flower you told him about that grew around your childhood home. Your palm comes to cover your mouth and tears well up in your eyes at the considerate nature of his gift. (That's Miguel, always remembering the details of things you say. When was the last time your boyfriend did that again?) Miguel turns to face you with an anxious expression. "Do you not like it? I left the receipt in there, you can return it and use the money on-"
"No, no, no, it's beautiful," you smile, turning and lifting the hair from your neck, "Could you please put it on me?"
He sighs in relief, taking the necklace and clasping it gently around your neck. As soon as he's done you jump into his arms with a delighted giggle, beaming with joy. He lets himself hug you back for a few more seconds before setting you down. Seeing you like this has his heart racing as he's filled with the courage to say it, to tell you what you mean to him. He opens his mouth to speak and -
Someone shouts through the sliding doors of the balcony, "Hey, where have you been? Get inside, your boyfriend just got here!"
And just like that, the courage is gone, his mouth closing to a slight frown. As he's preparing to go back in and stomach the sight of you with that man, he sees you climbing the steps of the fire escape and stops at the door.
"What are you doing?"
You stop, turning to look at him with the breeze at your back and the moon shining on you. You offer your hand to him.
"Come on, let's go. We can sit on the rooftop like we used to."
He pauses, taking a look at the party inside. Then he takes your hand and you're leading him up like you used to, and everything that was out of place in him shifts back to fit. He smiles at how small and smooth your hand is in his larger, rough one. Yeah, he thinks.
This is how it's meant to be.
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mvltisstuff · 1 year
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Could i request for a Conrad fisher X reader where reader has a younger sibling who gives her a hard time and her parents favour her younger sibling more. It's the reader's bday on the same day as belly's and her family doesn't get her anything and they don't bother with an excuse either and say they don't really care abt her so it doesn't matter. So Conrad comforts her later and if u don't mind u could include some smut at the end?
(this is my situation rn lololol but without Conrad to comfort me��)
matilda - c.f
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summary: request
conrad fisher x reader
a/n: i’m so sorry love, sorry this is a few days late but you are so loved and appreciated no matter what, hope this makes you happy today <3
it’s been a recurring theme for most of y/n’s life. the overheard quotes about the older sibling had eventually become a reality. they didn’t even wait for y/n to try and live up to them. instead, they just accepted that their daughter wasn’t as good as the rest of their children.
as upsetting as it is, kids experience it too much. y/n experiences it every day, so when she realized it wasn’t normal, that’s when it started to hurt more every year.
this day was supposed to be different. she was so excited, turning 18 and finally being an adult. free of her parents if she wanted to be. she thought that maybe, just maybe, her parents would think of her for a day, and make it about it. alas, the second she woke up and walked into the kitchen, y/n’s hopes were shut down.
“y/n, can you take y/b/n to practice? i’m going out with sharon today,” her mom said, barely even looking at her.
“uh, i’m leaving in a bit, remember?” she speaks, trying to sound as polite as possible. “the fishers invited me over for today.”
“hon, we get it,” her dad talks next, peering up over his glasses and newspaper of the town. “but, to some point, it’s just another day. just do what your mother asked.”
y/n looks at her little siblings at the table, messing around and receiving no repercussions. she still remembers when that was her. playing with her parents, happier than she ever was again. she loves her siblings to death, but she loves herself, too. y/n deserves more than she’s been given, so she confides. she drives her brother to whatever practice, wishing him luck as he whispers a happy birthday, then jumping out of the car to see his friends.
she’s already dressed up for the party for belly. the fishers had welcomed her with open arms, even having decorations and sweets for her on the table. everyone figured she’d have something going on at home, but oh, they were so wrong. she didn’t receive a single birthday message from the people who gave her life, so did it matter? even if she didn’t believe it, at least the fishers knew she was worth it. she was dressed in one of her best outfits, a simple dress with small flowers printed over. she had small wedges and her hair was done neatly. she felt pretty, she is pretty.
she walked into the house, belly hearing the door open first. she skips toward, engulfing y/n in a huge hug. “y/n!” she squeals. “happy birthday!”
“oh, belly! happy birthday to you, you look so cute!”
“are you kidding? your man’s gonna go wild when he sees you!” she whispers, making y/n blush toward the end.
“belly, stop!” she nudges. “he’s not my man… yet.”
they giggle together before moving back into the kitchen where y/n greets susannah and laurel, along with the rest of the boys. conrad stands up first, in a heartbeat. he walks over, almost lifting y/n off the ground in a hug.
“hey! happy birthday!” he tells her, excitedly as he pulls away. jeremiah comes piling in next, saying his words to the person he considers a sister.
“didn’t y/m/n have anything planned?” susannah asked from the pure kindness in her heart.
“oh,” y/n mutters. “we, uh, we did something yesterday.”
conrad can tell when y/n lies. he can read her like a book at this point. he’s spent so long fanboying over her that he knows what she’s feeling. when she’s sad, excited, pissed, he knows. it pulls at his heart when he can sense the disappointment in her voice. he starts to get more alarmed with every drink she takes throughout the day. she’s not even a big drinker, never really taking an offer. now he’s positive somethings wrong.
if y/n’s parents didn’t care about her, they don’t care if she drinks, right? she’s with her friends, she’s allowed to. plus. it’ll take the edge off of the internal wounds her parents have left her with. her feelings on the whole matter start to disintegrate for a while, until belly’s cake comes out and is handed to her. it’s so nicely done, perfect detail and so much love. they put time into her cake and party, and y/n can’t help the jealousy rising up. she vividly remembers every one of her younger siblings birthdays. all of them having their friends and a party, while y/n was just locked in her room on her birthday. the presents and the cheesy grins from everyone were overwhelming every year. she couldn’t help but think about what it could be like with her real family. maybe they could love her as much as she deserves, but in reality, they won’t. they can, but they chose not to, which hurts even more.
y/n stumbles around on the balcony, around people while carefully savoring every last drop of whatever is in her can. she’s probably had too many, but she doesn’t care. it’s almost like it’s reversed itself now. she watches belly open all of her presents and receive hugs and kisses, and the lump in her throat becomes thicker. she thinks of the alcohol as her enemy now, just bringing back the thoughts in her sober mind.
it’s not until everyone hears the clicking of y/n’s heels on the pavement that they notice her walking away. her hand is swiping away the loose tears and everyone looks at conrad. if there’s anyone y/n wants to see, it’s him. they’ve been in love for so long, it’s almost painful to watch. as she walks away, blurry vision from the alcohol and the tears, she tries to grab another can from the box before a hand stops her.
“i don’t think that’s a good idea,” conrad says, gently taking it out of her hand and landing it back in the box.
“oh, great. more fuckin’ judgment,” she retorts, making conrad’s face contort.
“hey, what’s going on? you’ve been off all day.”
“i am, perfectly fine,” y/n slurs. conrad places a hand on her shoulder, and takes them to sit on the steps. his arm is wrapped around her, the other one gripping her hand.
“i know you’re not. it’s ok to not be ok,” he looks at her nose scrunch and her cheeks turn red again. “hey, hey, don’t cry, you’re alright.”
“no,” she weeps out, putting her head in her hands. “i’m a mess! i don’t know what to do, i cant make it any better and i’ve been trying for 14 fucking years!”
“hold on,” he keeps his voice low. “what do you mean?”
“my parents don’t give a shit. they haven’t since y/b/n was born and they didn’t even bother about me anymore,” conrad pulls her into his arms, leaning back as her teardrops soak into his shirt. “i didn’t do anything for this, and belly’s being loved unconditionally without having to fight for it. and i feel like a bitch getting upset over it but-“
“absolutely not. don’t say that ever again. you don’t deserve anything they’re giving you. anything they’ve said to you is a fucking lie. i know who you are. you’re the most perfect, beautiful person i’ve ever met, inside and out. you don’t have to prove anything to them, because they don’t deserve your amazingness,” he speaks to her. it’s nothing but the truth, and nothing he would ever hesitate to say. “and i will spend forever trying to prove to you that you’re nothing but beautiful a beautiful person.”
y/n looks up at him, only bursting into more tears as he laughs a bit. “oh, my god, conrad. i love you, so much. i know i’m drunk but i mean it more than anything.” she’s felt nothing like she does now. she’s never had someone accept her so quickly and with so much appreciation. she feels like she can do nothing but cry and just love on him.
“i’m glad,” he begins again. “because i love you, too. no matter what your parents say or do. they don’t define you.”
and in this moment, for the first time in a long time, y/n knows someone loves her. and he’s not just saying it for comfort. she doesn’t need her parents to be loved. if they can’t do that, there will forever be someone out there who loves her just as much. she knows she’s enough, and that’s enough.
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lazyjellyfish300 · 5 months
Text
Love Across Dimensions
Miguel O'Hara x Reader s/o
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TW: ANGST, LONG DISTANCE RELATIONSHIP, READER IS MID 20S, MIGUEL'S IN HIS EARLY 30S, FLUFF. MINORS DNI AS THIS WORK IS CONNECTED TO ONE OF MY NSFW BLURBS.
Synopsis: You're from a different dimension than him. You didn't ask to fall in love with the protector of the multiverse, and it sure as hell isn't easy being in a long distance relationship with him. But what you have is special, and that's always worth waiting for. The Nicholas Sparks movie Dear John inspired this a little. (The moon quote 😫🫶🏾)
A/N: spinoff of my phone sex blurb, Long Distance. Here's some more insights into y'all's relationship. This one is mostly SFW, maybe a NSFW version coming soon? Headcanons/outline ish? Idk what it is but here you go. NSFW PART 2
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- He walks through his portal at HQ with your lip gloss shiny all over his neck and doesn't think to wipe it off. Clearly he's not a makeup expert and forgets that this stuff smears easily. Hobie and Pav snicker together, " well, wonder where he's been." (They already know)
"Shut it, you two!"
"Sureee, boss."
-You have him get you a trinket from every dimension, it's not up for debate. It's always a snow globe or a postcard. Your fridge and your shelf space are both running out of room by now to store them. The postcards are filled with sweet handwritten words from Miguel, telling you about his day and the location they're from.
-He won't take you across dimensions with him. He crafted you your own version of a gizmo to call him and summon Lyla whenever you need her, but you don't have the ability to travel across dimensions yet. Even Miguel can't bring himself to break his own rules, despite how much he wishes he could just bring you here and keep you here himself. The threat of canon disruption looms over his head. Losing Gabi destroyed him. A piece of his heart never recovered. Losing you could be the straw that breaks him. Not to mention, he can't protect you at all times if he took you along on his missions. He takes comfort in knowing you're tucked in, safe at home watching your favorite movies or with your best friends at a new restaurant getting drinks.
-You always save songs that you think he'd like and have all the reels you want to show him saved in a folder called "Memes for Miggy ❤️." His playlist on your Spotify is just titled "🖤" because you don't want anyone to know it's just songs for you two.
-You hardly see him. Dating someone like him is not for the weak. You can usually count on seeing him maybe once a month if you're lucky. And he'll usually stay for the weekend. And it's always the best weekend of your life.
-It took a while for him to get there, but he's super romantic/poetic when he's in love. He reassures you as you two stand outside one night, his arms wrapped around you from behind, resting his chin on your head.
"If you ever miss me, just look at the sky. It's my anchor to you. Know that when you look up at it, that I'm somewhere in it, not far away. The colors of the sky, the position of the stars, the shadow of the moon and the rays of the sun are the same in every universe, including this one where we end up together."
-His favorite gift from you is a bottle of your perfume. He'll take a sniff every now and then and close his eyes and imagine you're next to him. You do the same with his cologne. He's left a ton of hoodies and sweatpants at your house. You wear them to bed every night and give them a spritz whenever you feel like his scent is wearing off.
-The first night after he leaves is the hardest. But the night after that hurts a little less. As does the night after that, and after that, and so on. The stab wound of his departure healing itself as it has dozens of times before by now. Your heart steadily molds back to its original shape in your chest, no longer shattered. You immerse yourself in your work and your friends, trying to go out every now and then, imagining he's right there with you. Because even though he's light years away, he still is.
-But sometimes , the ache of his absence hits you like a wave crashing against a cliff it threatens to erode. When you accidentally play that song that you two belted in the car together, or when you see the carmelicious fudge ice cream in your freezer that you haven't touched since the last time you two ate it together, sharing the carton. It hurts when you realize you're spending another Christmas Eve without him, leaving you with a plate of cookies and a glass of milk that you have to enjoy all by yourself, staring at his stocking you bought and stuffed for him hanging untouched over your fireplace. Hearing your niece and nephew buzzing about their Valentine's cards they get to hand out at school, knowing that the one you bought for Miguel will stay forgotten in the grocery bag in your closet. Tiny needles that pierce you. A jarring reminder that your heart is split in two across a vast continuum of time and space, with Miguel holding the other half on the opposite side.
-You cry, a lot. And little do you know, he does too. The last time after you guys got home from a few days at a little beach house in San Diego, you just sobbed and sobbed into his arms while he held you in your pajamas as you slowly walked him to your apartment door. His expression was sorrowful as he tried to brush your tears away, lip trembling as he tried to ward off his own tears that threatened to release, a tight knot causing his voice to choke in his throat.
"I'll back for you. I promise, baby. Think of me, okay? Use your watch to call me whenever you want."
You look up at him, mucus running down your nose and your eyes puffy and red, but you don't care. You bathe in the ruby ocean of his eyes for one more moment, windows to his precious soul that now inevitably belongs to you. You touch his cheeks, the smooth pattern of his skin imprinting itself in your palms, his warmth transferring onto you a final time before your body eventually forgets.
He walks forward across the threshold with a deep breath as he lets go of your hand at last, slowly closing the door behind him. The door barely clicks before he's ripping it back open, pulling you back into his arms as you wail and sob some more while he just rocks you gently in his embrace, his face buried in your neck.
Trying to tattoo the scent and feel of your body into his memory one more time. As though the very essence of you were all the rations he'd need to hold him off until that moment when he could feast on your beautiful smile once again. He tries not to think about how this could be the last time. The reality of the dangers of the job he signed up for are a painful reminder. Being Spider-Man is a sacrifice.
He finally closes the door behind him, and walks slowly through the orange glowing tunnel, tears leaking down his face, gasping as though the wind got knocked out of him. He hates saying goodbye, praying and pleading to whatever deity is out there that it wouldn't be the last time he did.
Why did the universe plant you so far away from him? Why did the love of his life exist on a plane of existence separate from his? The laws of time, space, and the formidable, neverending, infinite weight of the multiverse barring you two from each other.
But you're his true love. Of course he'd find his way back to you. In any universe.
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💖
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upsidedownmvnson · 1 year
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I love Eddie's little somethings, what would his reaction be when he finds out that you keep all the things he's made for you, you've pressed, dried, and kept a lot of flowers he got for you and stuck them in a scrapbook etc
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STOP - they're talking about this post &lt;3 but specifically this one;
when [eddie's] meant to give you gift (birthdays/holidays etc) he prefers to make something. one time he recorded two cassettes of himself playing all your favourite songs, one slow, instrumental & acoustic for studying, and one how they were meant to be sang for jamming. he's also made a popsicle stick diorama of your childhood tree fort that was torn down, and a DnD campaign on your birthday based on your favourite fantasy movie
so i imagine that eddie is like a outside cat
he finds shiny trinkets and brings them to you, the spoils of his adventures. but then curl up on your lap lol
he'd bring you anything, a pretty flower (or weed), a pinecone that looked funny, a pretty leaf, and he doesn't think you'll want them... he just likes to show you stuff
one day he's waiting for you in your room, you just had to run across the street to grab something for your mother from a neighbour, he couldn't come because he wasn't supposed to be over when your parents aren't home
and he's poking around for fun
not spying or snooping, you always let him look through your things bc you have nothing to hide, when the spine of a book catches his eye
it looks like a photo album, but when he pulled it out he wasn't surprised to see a picture of the two of you stuck to the front, and also little heart stickers. it was your favourite picture, eddie was in his throne, and you were across his lap, legs flopping over the armrest. you were both smiling so wide for the picture, because it had been the day eddie made a dnd campaign based on your favourite movie for your birthday, and you two had exchanged your first 'i love yous' in front of hellfire because you couldn't contain your love anymore (i should write a full imagine for this me thinks)
but when he opened it he realized it was a scrap book
the inside cover page was your character from that day (your fav character from the movie)
and the next page was filled with flowers, all pressed flat and dry, assembled intricately around post-it notes, taped down with little passages on them. some were quotes. some were reasons you loved eddie. some were little memories you didn't want to forget.
he was so fixated on the book that he had to sit down, his eyes glossing over from reading all the sweet things you thought about him
it was more real, seeing things you'd written without assuming eddie would see it. it was your real, pure feelings for him.
he flipped thru the pages to find all sorts of things like that. notes he'd written you & left in your locker or passed to you in class. tickets to movies or shows you'd gone to.
a tear landed on the page, and it shocked eddie. he was crying. he was so happy. it made no sense to him, how someone like you could invest all your time and love into him.
his heart was so full
"awh, baby," you'd say from the doorway, leaning on it. "it wasn't supposed to make you cry."
and he'd discard the book beside him, saying nothing but opening his arms so you would come sit with him.
and of course you did, straddling him, and letting him bury his head in your shoulder. he sniffled, his shoulder shaking gently from the overwhelming feelings he was having. he'd never ever felt like this.
"it's beautiful, thank you for making that."
and he'd also collected everything you'd ever given him, and he would for sure be making one of this to keep at his house.
you would rub his hair, soothing him and whispering sweet things, reminding him that you love him, and more importantly that he was worth all the love. you wanted him to know he deserved it. deserved the whole damn world <3
"okay but check this out"
and you'd take him over to a shelf that had the popsicle stick diorama of your childhood treehouse and took it down.
he'd noticed it had a hinge on the back, but he hadn't put it there
you had carefully cut the glue to the roof so it could open like a hatch, and inside you'd made it even better, painting it to actually look like the fort, and adding some little doll furniture. it was an idea dustin had thrown out while they were making it but he'd never been inside.
he wanted to ask if it was accurate but there was more
there were all kinds of things stuffed in there, it looked like a squirrel was living in there.
and he realized it was the spoils of adventure that he'd brought you. pinecones, rocks, a fake quarter, the monopoly dog, a gum wrapper with a joke on it
and he wanted to cry again but he didn't, instead just put the treehouse away, and pulled you in for the biggest bear hug ever.
he picked you up and spun you around a few time, before walking you over to the bed so he could drop you on it, climbing on top of you to kiss you, and so eddie show you how much he really appreciated it
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astraystayyh · 1 year
Text
MASTERLIST
all rights reserved © astraystayyh. all pieces are works of fiction and do not represent the members in real life. do not copy, translate or repost.
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OT8
╰┈➤ series.
༊*·˚ SKZ song series masterlist (completed)
༊*·˚ Winter falls | winter themed collab with @forlix (in progress)
༊*·˚ SKZ quotes series masterlist (in progress)
╰┈➤ one-shots.
༊*·˚ All for you- skz wedding vows | f.
༊*·˚ SKZ saying I love you for the first time | f.
╰┈➤ headcannons.
༊*·˚ SKZ as oddly specific love languages | f.
༊*·˚ Mundane activities you'd enjoy with SKZ | f.
༊*·˚ SKZ when you are stressed and overworked | h/c.
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bang chan.
╰┈➤ one-shots & series.
༊*·˚ Pieces of you | f. a. singledad!chris. mutual pining. neigbors!au.
⟿ In which you and chan are each other's missing pieces. Alternatively, Chris and his daughter come knocking at your apartment asking for flour, and he's no longer embarrassed when you open the door.
༊*·˚ Vanilla | a. f.
⟿ Breakup with a happy ending.
༊*·˚ Beginning of the end (part 1) | a.
⟿ You are breaking up with Chan, he just doesn't know it yet.
༊*·˚ Bittersweet (part 2) | a. f. exes to lovers.
⟿ Four years later, you are back home and everything has changed.
༊*·˚ Wait for me | a. major character death.
⟿ "I think I might see you soon, my yn. You've been waiting for me, haven't you? Just like we promised."
༊*·˚ The wedding saga | f.
The impromptu proposal.
A few hours before the wedding.
The wedding and the morning after.
༊*·˚ Myth | f. friends to lovers.
⟿ Skimming across the edge of being friends and something more with Chan is a dangerous game. Even more so when you're both sharing the same bed.
"The consequence of what you do to me, help me to name it."
╰┈➤ drabbles.
༊*·˚ chan is tired and you are his sun.
༊*·˚ you're sick and chan takes care of you.
༊*·˚ when you're having a bad day and chan is still proud of you.
༊*·˚ chan comforting you through a thunderstorm.
༊*·˚ chan's hugs.
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lee minho.
╰┈➤ one-shots & series.
༊*·˚ Invisible thread- 1 | f, a. academic rivals to lovers. slow burn.
⟿ Your studies have been your life line for as long as you can remember, what happens when Minho comes into your life and rips it away from you?
༊*·˚ Invisible thread- 2 | f. a. h/c.
⟿ In which Minho rewrites your entire relationship with love.
༊*·˚ Echoes of love | memory loss trope. a. h/c.
⟿ If given the choice would you love minho again? yes, you would've once said in a heartbeat. but now, you aren't sure of your response anymore.
chapter i. to forget - chapter ii. to remember
༊*·˚ The only exception | strangers to lovers. slow burn. barista!minho.
⟿ Minho was content with straying away as far as possible from love. That is until you stumbled into his café on a rainy night, and unwittingly, into his life.
"Cause none of it was ever worth the risk, but you are the only exception."
༊*·˚ Conversations with Minho | f.
༊*·˚ A cat proposal | f.
╰┈➤ drabbles.
༊*·˚ mine.
༊*·˚ a sun and a moon.
༊*·˚ when you used to feel lonely but not anymore with minho.
༊*·˚ minho comforts you through a storm.
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seo changbin.
╰┈➤ one-shots.
༊*·˚ The alternative | brother's best friend!changbin. f. ♡
⟿ You've diligently chased the idea of being with Changbin out of your mind. That is until he picks you up from a bad date, making your steadfast resolve unravel all around you.
"Love is a risk, but what's the alternative?"
༊*·˚ Burning in the winter wind | romcom vibes. (fake) enemies to lovers. f.
⟿ Sustaining an ankle injury during a ski retreat isn't fun. Especially when Seo Changbin volunteers to stay back to tend to you- the one man you can never get a read on.
╰┈➤ drabbles.
when you're feeling sad changbin will do anything (being silly) to cheer you up.
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hwang hyunjin.
╰┈➤ one-shots.
༊*·˚ The snow falls, we fall apart | friends to lovers. roomates!au. a. f. longing and pining.
⟿ when heartbreak looms on your life, and winter becomes a time you loathe, hyunjin helps you rewrite your memories with the season, and with it, everything you once believed about love.
༊*·˚ Somebody else | exes to lovers. a. miscommunication. happy ending.
⟿ You and Hyunjin have broken up, guilt and blame simmering between you both. He doesn't care anymore, or so he thought. Then why does it hurt him to see you with someone else?
"Don't want your body but I hate to think about you with somebody else."
༊*·˚ You're in the wind, I'm in the water (pt.1) | friends to lovers. pinch of unrequited love (it's very much requited dw)
༊*·˚ Orange (pt.2) | f. my take on The Orange theory.
༊*·˚ Young and beautiful | f.
⟿ How you both said i love you for the first time.
༊*·˚ Snow on the beach | f. implied soulmates.
⟿ You've never said i love you to Hyunjin but you've both always known.
༊*·˚ Say yes to heaven | a. f. (pt. 1)
⟿ Seven minutes in heaven except you're heartbroken and hyunjin has a huge crush on you.
༊*·˚ Say yes to me | f. (pt. 2) ♡
⟿ After your seven minutes in heaven, hyunjin wants to plan out how he'll finally confess to you. except you come knocking on the door of his rented cabin unannounced. at 10:53 pm. the perfect time for love, he comes to learn.
༊*·˚ When I fell in love | f.
⟿ It's your birthday and Hyunjin has a surprise gift for you- all the moments he fell in love with you in.
༊*·˚ You and I | a. happy ending.
⟿ In which you wrongly lash out at Hyunjin and have to mend it back. Human character who makes mistakes and apologizes for them.
༊*·˚ Conversations with Hyunjin | f.
╰┈➤ drabbles.
༊*·˚ serenity.
༊*·˚ mornings with hyunjin.
༊*·˚ nights with hyunjin.
༊*·˚ hyunjin and touch starved reader.
༊*·˚ you've had a nightmare and Hyunjin sings you to sleep while it's raining.
༊*·˚ in which you're in love with hyunjin and you're both swimming in a lake.
༊*·˚ hyunjin with glasses and a tiny ponytail brainrot.
༊*·˚ hyunjin is your friend except you're making out in his car backseat.
༊*·˚ your reaction to hyunjin's new burgundy hair.
༊*·˚ valentine’s with hyunjin.
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han jisung.
╰┈➤ one-shots.
༊*·˚ Volcano | Enemies to lovers. slow burn. f. a.
⟿ You've never gotten along with han, your mutual prejudices ruining any prospect of friendship between you both. but you slowly realize that you are more similar than what you originally thought- your darkness recognizing his, and his light yearning for yours.
"I'll take care of you. It's terrible work. Not to me, not if it's you."
༊*·˚ 5422 | a. f.
⟿ Your morning after a fight with Han.
༊*·˚ Backburner | Exes who can't move on. a.
⟿ It's been seven weeks since Han broke up with you. And yet he's still calling you, every saturday night, without fault. And even though you try not to, you still pick up each time.
"You'd think I'd be a fast learner. But guess I won't ever mind crisping up in your backburner."
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lee felix.
╰┈➤ one-shots.
༊*·˚ If the world was ending | estranged childhood best friends to lovers. a. f.
⟿ Felix has always been there with you, from the moment you've met him when you were 8 years old. Until he suddenly no longer was, and you were left to grapple with the consequences of his absence- and those of his return.
"If the world was ending you'd come over, right?"
༊*·˚ Scream! | f. h/c.
⟿ When you are overwhelmed by the stress of your studies, your boyfriend Felix will do anything to cheer you up.
╰┈➤ drabbles.
༊*·˚ red lollipop.
༊*·˚ you apply lip gloss on felix but it takes an emotional turn because he's too pretty.
༊*·˚ cooking with felix.
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kim seungmin.
╰┈➤ one-shots.
༊*·˚ In my dreams | (Fake) enemies to lovers. a. h/c. slow burn. ♡
⟿ Seungmin has never liked you. You never understood why, but you were slowly coming to terms with it. However, you gradually come to learn that there is more to his feelings than what meets the eye.
"I'm sorry that I misjudged you, until you wiped my tears off away."
༊*·˚ Photobooth | f.
⟿ Your first date with seungmin, except he pretends he's confident when he's just as nervous as you.
╰┈➤ drabbles.
༊*·˚ seungmin's silent comfort.
༊*·˚ when you realize you don't have to be perfect around seungmin.
༊*·˚ enemies to lovers (for a night) with seungmin.
༊*·˚ seungmin thinks you’re the prettiest at your most ordinary.
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yang jeongin.
╰┈➤ one-shots.
༊*·˚ You're sexy I'm sexy | friends to lovers. fluff and tension.
⟿ Jeongin is out with his friends, and you. You're tipsy and sitting on his lap, and he doesn't think he can keep his crush for you at bay anymore.
"It could be simple as loving on each other with no strings."
༊*·˚ Please fall before I fall | best friends to lovers. mutual pining but they think it's unrequited love.
⟿ 3 times you saved jeongin's ass and the 1 time he saved yours (and ended up confessing along the way). holidays themed.
╰┈➤ drabbles.
༊*·˚ jeongin when you are sad and don't know why.
༊*·˚ jeongin's duality.
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hansoeii · 10 months
Note
Several things: -LOVE your art, it’s amazing! Especially the one with Crowley and Aziraphale under the umbrella - which software do you use? Your art always look SO gorgeous (cheeky quote from GO right there lol) - how did you get so good at drawing?And thank you for encouraging other people to keep drawing and being so kind as I sometimes can’t help but compare my sketches to others and feel silly, but I guess it’s just a learning curve… Thank you so much for bringing your art to the world!😊
Thank you so much!!
I use Clip Studio Paint for drawing and Photoshop for small adjustments!
2. Haha thanks! Honestly...it's the hyperfixations. I managed to improve a lot in just a year because I've been drawing SO much cos there's so many shows and movies I became obsessed with that I wanted to create art for. So by drawing a lot I just naturally improved. For example these two Illustrations are just a year apart:
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I actually didn't actively try to improve, it's been a while since I did proper studies (I just don't really have the time for it between freelancing and art school), it just happened.
But I can absoluetly recommend going on YouTube and look for some art tutorials if you actively want to start improving! There's some channels that helped me so much back then:
moderndayjames
Incredible shape language and super insightful tutorials on all kinds of topics! I learned so much from him.
Ahmed Aldoori
So many awesome tutorials on so many different areas of art. Love it.
Marco Bucci
Incredible tutorials on color theory and understanding how color works in general! Learned SO much from him!
Sinix Design
The OG tutorials I began learning from. I watched his videos religiously as a teen. I adore his painterly style and adopted it in some way, haha.
Ethan Becker
This dude sometimes drops these tiny art tips that just completely blow my mind and that I adopt immedietly. He's super entertaining but also such a great teacher.
And I can also recommend checking out this book by James Gurney if you want to get better at colors!
And for anatomy I highly recommend the Morpho books!
But improvement doesn't only come from drawing a lot. A lot of the time I don't draw for a while and just study the world and artists around me and suddenly I improved when I get back to drawing. Don't ever overwork yourself to the point that you don't enjoy what you do anymore. Take breaks and listen to your body!
I learned to try and not compare myself to other artists, which helped a lot. Through conventions and social media I made so many lovely artist friends and realized how we're all struggling in a very similar way. A lot of us don't even really know what we're doing most of the time, haha. But we help each other out, it's such a wonderful community. I think when you're not actively part of the community it tends to feel like other, more successful artists are some kind of art gods that have perfected the craft and never struggle. But believe me, all the artists you admire go through rough times all. the. time. Sometimes what they do feels easy and natural, other times (more often than not) it feels like you have to try and learn how to walk all over again and you start to doubt your abilities. I personally go through that so many times.
So what I'm trying to say is that instead of comparing yourself to the artists you admire, learn from them instead. Ask questions, befriend fellow artists, study the artists you enjoy and just have fun with it!
And finally I thought it would be fun to share some of my horrendous Johnlock fanart from a decade ago for some motivation:
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I hope my answer didn't overwhelm you, but I thoight it would be nice to give a more detailed answer!
Have a wonderful day and keep drawing! :)
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emperor-palpaminty · 11 months
Text
Possessive HCs
Minors DNI, must have age in bio to interact or else ya get blocked. TW for possessive kink and all that jazz. i am unhinged and have no train of thought that makes sense. Also my inbox is open for requests hehe
(This post features Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, and Alejandro with anGN reader)
Price
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LAWDY this man gives me possessive vibes. He's a captain after all, he's used to having his way and people respect his property.
And you are, after all, his... Right?
Price doesn't get the appeal of hickies at first. They seem immature, silly even, and he thinks they're more trouble than they're worth. And then he sees you with one that he gave you the day before.
Totally changes everything.
He'll cover you in hickies if he can, where where your flesh is soft enough. If your job is more "professional" and would frown upon it he would make sure to leave some just where the corners of a bruise is peeking out from under the collar of your shirt, just so people can still know you're his.
If someone comes up to flirt with you, he makes sure he winds an arm around you and maintains eye contact with the intrusive party until they get the hint and leave. He's the kind of guy who would stare the flirter in the face while kissing your neck, or up your arm, and he would carry the conversation on calmly.
Casually refers to you as "my girl/lad/love", "pretty thing", etc. Just as long as it's obvious you're his.
Ghost
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In my brain, he's the most possessive but because he wants to stay as anon as possible, he doesn't get super grabby or touchy in public. The second you get behind closed doors however? Hooooo mama.
He marks you up good. Scratches, hickies, everything. Even if they aren't visible to others it is enough to remind you and that's enough for him. He is fine with getting some of his own too, but he prefers they stay somewhat hidden. Part of him wants to make sure you're as safe as possible, and that includes not letting the enemy know he's getting hickies from someone.
If someone comes up to flirt with you, I can see Simon standing nearby- but always staring down the person seeking your affections. You are polite to them but tell them you aren't interested, and if they press on that's when Simon comes over. He's probably thrown a guy through a window before TBH. After that he takes you home and treats you real good ;P
Soap
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Yeah. yeah. yeaaaaahhhhhhh. This man is loud as hell and has a short ass temper when it comes to you. When others come up to you or are even looking your way, he grabs your waist or hand or pulls you close. He has one hundred percent given you a hickey in the middle of a crowded room (club? bar? who knows?) just because he saw a couple of folks looking your way with eyes that lingered too long. If someone tries to flirt, he is not shy at all about speaking up or pulling you behind him ("Sorry, this one's taken, lad. Go find someone else for the night.")
He will also mark you up too with all the hickies and scratches but he loves when you do the same to him. Honestly, the more hickies the better. If you give him any, he WILL walk around shirtless just to show them off. (Price scolds you for quote, "defacing government property")
Gaz
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In my head Gaz isn't like. super kinky. He just seems so sweet in the games. I could be totally wrong though and he could be a kinky bastard (drop your Gaz HCs). But this is MY HEAD, welcome to the terror dome.
Yeah, Gaz isn't super possessive in a kinky way, but he does like when people know you're together. He'll slip an arm around you, or put his hand in yours. At one point as a joke you got a shirt printed with his face on it that said "Gaz's Guy/Gal" and he thought it was the funniest thing ever.
If someone comes up to flirt with you he's pretty quick to intervene. He will slip between you and the person and try to redirect them away- but if it comes down to it, he will knock a guy out for flirting with his partner despite a plethora of rejections and "no"s.
Alejandro
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Alejandro is PASSIONATE deadass, and doesn't give a shit about who is watching. He'll pick up your hands and kiss them any time any where, or hold your face, or he will just stare into your eyes from across the room. The tension is palpable, you can palp it.
When it comes to showing you off or being possessive, he's more defensive. He will stand between you and the person coming to flirt with you and square up, just to remind them that this is not their place or purpose.
Afterward, he of course kisses you and makes love to you rather intensely ("Amor de mi vida, no one can do this to you, and even if they were lucky enough they wouldn't do this like I do"). And no matter what, you wouldn't let anyone else do that to you, because it's true- no one could do this (or you) like he can. Also he's vocal- he lets the both of you be heard if he's enjoying himself and he wants everyone to know that those sounds from your mouth were because of him.
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phrandallanton · 2 months
Text
ranfren headcannons
I've done everything but posted headcannons and a fanfiction. This won't do. Here's some headcannons of mine! All of them aren't serious so don't take them that way d(>_・ ). Feel free to ask me about any other headcannons I'll definitely give more!
Randal
• if he has any pimples on his face he definitely picks at them untill they pop
• either is really good at math or sucks at math and hates it. (No in-between)(leaning towrds sucking at math more)
• has tear stains on his homework sometimes
• he bathes everyday dispite what people think. (Luther forces him too)
• his hair gets really oily. He has tried to cook with the oil his hair produced once. Nobody ate dinner that night.
• if he's frustrated and you go to poke him he'll scream on top of his lungs, but like the scream that goes from normal yelling to banshee screeching. "stop touCHING MEEEEĚĘƏƏ!!!!"
• gets in a lot of internet arguments about things that don't matter at all ("I think you'll find it's 'whom'.")
• he'd get so mad if he ask you to hold his glasses, and you proceed to carelessly get your fingerprints all over them.
• draws with those "how to draw anime" guid books.
• if he ever took a driving test, he would have already failed the moment he opens the car door.
• loves kraft mac and cheese, double points if it's in shapes of popular marketable characters.
• now thinking of it, if he was a pasta dish he would be kraft mac and cheese.
• bites his toe nails off (gross) Luther tried to get him to stop but he probably does the same thing when no one is around.
• sneezes weirdly. Like..."ah...ah...AH CHOOwoowoowoowoo..." and shakes his head. Or if he's covering it in his elbow it'll sound like a trumpet horn.
Luther
• he can dance but it's weird.
• if you tell him a joke he'll turn it into a life lesson.
• he wins every staring contest. However if your eyes start watering he'll get worried and start begging you to blink.
• treats women (and everyone) with so much respect, but he won't hesitate to punch a women if he really has to.
• *shakes his indext finger* "no no no"
• Randal probably tried to set him up on a blind date, he didn't like that. It was very awkward to say the least.
• genuinely gets happy when there are bagels at the function.
• when asked for advice, it'll sound like he's going to say something really meaningful and life changing, but then does a complete 180. "Oh, you think your ugly? Well people will have their opinions about you and ...well... you aren't the best thing to look at. But there's worst out there ♡."
• I can see him gobbling up some cheese and broccoli.
• has a walk in closet filled with clothes and accessories he doesn't wear.
• he 100% definitely has the goofiest giggle in the planet.
• eats ice cream with his front teeth.
Nyon
• I will stand by this till the day I die, he's really funny. He has a really good sense of humor. But I could also seem him not understanding jokes too. But at the same TIIIMMEE I feel like he'd be naturally funny.
• he knows lots of slang and pop culture due to watching TV a lot and probably quotes stuff in his head. (Maybe out loud if he was talking to you)
• has a lot of opinions, will never say them out loud, even when asked.
• he's the smartest out of everyone, including Luther.
• easily amused. please give him one of those little fishy nightlights. He'd enjoy looking at it so much.
• he's good at card games and Nyen doesn't like that. (Nyen has stabbed him over games of uno)
• has a really funny looking smile. (There's that one drawing in the Christmas comic where he's smiling weird after he saw Luther's reaction to the fire place tape he made for him)
Nyen
• listens to death metal but then listens to a jpop song right after. ("Can't let gang know I fw this")
• good at math, sucks at reading.
• loves hearing about drama and will be nosy.(come on man he loves Judge Judy and romance novels)
• sounds like Tom from Tom and Jerry when he yells.
• he calls himself "The Tom Cat" and (canonically) "Top of the pets in the house hold" which is practically the same as "I'm the alpha" so he's probably has said that.
• sucks at card games. Will legit end up with half of the pack of cards in his hands in the middle of an uno game.
• actually the weakest of them all. (I won't go into all that right now. But I can definitely beat him up in a fight, just sayin.)
•him and Nyon probably have times where they stay up and chit chat for a bit before they sleep, Example (from my old notes I had):
Nyon high on weed:...why do we call oranges..oranges...but we don't call apples...reds..??..
Nyen:....sh*t...you got a point... does that mean we would call lemons: short yellows and bananas: long yellows so it doesn't get confusing?...
*they then discuss this for an hour or so*
• Snores really really LOUD. Sounds like a car.
• oddly very ticklish I bet.
~~~~~~
That's all I have now. It's 2 in the morning and I'm falling asleep. I might write other characters headcannons later.
"I'm going to sleep" -bop it
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heyhilana · 1 year
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Heyy!! I'm such a huge fan of your Javier Peña works and I was wondering if I could ask for a smutty fic request where he's had a huge crush on you for the longest time but could never do anything about it since you had a bf.
What he didn't know was that your bf was an ass and he finds out he hasn't been taking care of you properly if yk what I mean ;).
I had this idea from a quote: "If he doesn't wanna make you feel pretty, I'll show you how fucking pretty you are." or smth like that.
Ofc the details and everything is up to you! I just really loved the main idea and figured you might as well :)
If it doesn't interest you it's okay,
Thanks xx
Hi lovely! Thank you so much for your request and I had a blast writing it. Javi is one of my favorite characters to write for and I hope you enjoy it just as much as I enjoyed it. As always, I’m a softie for Javi, so Javi being a softie goes hand in hand and I slightly apologize for the length since I tend to go overboard <3 Drink some water so you can be healthy (that also goes for everyone reading this lol)
Summary: A fresh break-up with your boyfriend drives you to your childhood friend Javi’s house to escape it all. But your forever home is found when you realize how relieved you feel after the fallout and how safe you feel in Javi’s presence.
A/N: Hi lovelies! To note before I get to my thank you’s, in this story, there is the use of disposable cameras, so this story does not have a certain time it is set in. I figured it would be easier to not have one so there would not be any discrepancies with time frames. Also, reader is wearing a dress so sorry to those that don't like dresses :( But yeah, dress made sense for this, and I didn't put in that the reader was wearing a bra because well, be free. :) But moving on from that, I want to say thank you all for taking the time to read my stories, request or not. To still see notis popping up every time I log in is a dream come true. I write on and off since inspiration will strike, and then I’m back to my usual writer's block. But every time I come back for a spell, I feel so much love, and I just want to say thank you <3 I hope this proves my love for you all, but drink water and enjoy yourselves! Hugs and love :)
Pairing: Javier Peña x f! reader (I'm pretty sure there's no use of Y/N here)
Warnings: (Hey, this is a ride in itself) 18+ for starters <3 Finally some protected sex because safe sex is great sex, kids. Oral f!receiving, biting, love bites, hickeys, fingering, small handjob, and so much Spanish you would think I'm a native speaker, but alas, I just use translators baby :) All translations will be put at the end!
Word Count: 8k (Need I say more about my word counts LMAO)
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(this man is so fine)
You knock on the door, heart beating out of your chest. It was second nature to arrive at his doorstep after a particularly interesting day. Javi answered and opened it, curiosity radiating on his face. But before he could say anything, you walked in.
“Well, come in.” Sarcasm drips in his tone as you set your bag on the coffee table. 
“When have I ever asked to come in?” You point out and sit on the couch, enveloping you with comfort.
“You stopped doing that after I let you in the first time.” He sat down next to you after he locked up, turning down the sports game he had on the tv.
“And you do the same at my house.” He shook his head as he turned his body to face you more.
“Fair enough. But I thought you were going out on a date with Angel?” 
If everything went to plan, you would be returning to his place to finish it off, but fate would intervene in the adventures of your love life.
“Uhm…” You couldn’t find the words to say what happened, making Javi more confused.
“Hey, talk to me. What happened?”
“I broke it off.” You got out, and his face changed. 
You knew this would go one of two ways, either with the both of you going through the ritual to get you through the breakup or him going to your exes’ place to beat the shit out of him. You had to talk him out of it multiple times, but when you would see your exes in passing glances, you could tell they were spooked, to say the least.
“What? Are you okay?” He moved closer to you to see if you were okay, but despite the normal ache you would have in your heart, it just wasn’t there.
“I’m fine, Javi. I just found out some things today and I had to take care of it.” If anything, you felt annoyance and regret for that relationship, but not pain.
“What did you find out?”
“You know Valentina? Valentina Perez from two towns over?” You asked, yet when you thought about it, who couldn’t forget her? On the other side of town, she was on her way to greatness, and most men fawned over her. You wouldn’t be surprised if you saw her in a magazine one day.
“Yeah, I know her. She went to our middle school right?”
You nodded your head. “Yeah, that’s her.”
“What does this have to do with her?”
“Well, I went to the store this morning to pick up some groceries. I was going to go to the one closer, but they were out of the oil I needed. So I went to her town because I knew that store had what I needed. But, just as I was going to cross the street, I saw Valentina with Angel. And not in a friendly way because they were holding hands, and he was kissing her cheek.” Javi’s jaw tightened, and his hand curled into a fist. But he refrained.
“What happened next?” He gritted through his teeth.
You knew he was fuming, given that he never liked Angel from the start when you mentioned that Angel wanted to take you on a date. Hell, he practically tried to talk you out of it, but you didn’t budge, making you both keep quiet on your respective opinions as you knew it wouldn’t end well. After all, how could you forget your last conversation about Angel?
-
“I’m telling you he’s no good for you. He’s terrible!” He wouldn’t dare raise his voice at you, but you could tell he was holding back.
“You don’t even know him! Only stories, Javi. Angel has shown me how much he cares about me and makes an effort.” You reasoned, but it fell on deaf ears, given Javi’s one-track mind regarding your choices in men.
He pinched the skin in between his brows, taking a deep breath. “Escuchame. I don’t know him personally, but everyone else that does tells me the same thing. He is not who you think he is and he’s just lying to you. I don’t want you to have to find out the hard way when you don’t deserve to.” 
He wasn’t wrong, given that many men in your hometown disliked him, but he was different with you. It didn’t matter who protested. It was what he showed you. That was what mattered in your heart.
You sighed, feeling yourself getting nowhere in this conversation. “Why do you care so much Javi? Why do you care so much about who I date when I don’t do this to you?” 
It was true, given that you kept some opinions to yourself about his extensive dating history, no matter how much you didn’t like them. Why he couldn’t do the same for you was infuriating.
“Because I love you. You’re family, and I won’t sit back and watch you make a bad choice when you can do better.” He was at his wits end, which you could hear in how he said he loved you. But it didn’t feel right. With the way he said family. Although you knew it was said out of comfort and not ill intention, the way it tugged on your heartstrings in an unpleasant chord when it shouldn’t have done anything but reassure you was strange. 
“What’s better for me then since you have all the answers?” His lips were pressed in a firm line before he spoke, trying to choose his words carefully before he couldn’t think.
“Anybody else! It’s not that hard to find one.” You rolled your eyes at him. Not that hard, he says. If it were so easy then this conversation wouldn’t be happening now.
“You judge every guy I pick so it’s clearly not that easy when you make it your life’s mission to find something wrong with them!” 
“But I was right about all of them. Miguel cheated, Wilmar lied about everything, and Jesus did both. They were terrible for you, and so is Angel. He’s the worst out of all of them.” You hated his knack for laying things out in a way that made your point seem mute.
“You being right about them is not the point. I don’t know why you can’t be happy for me and give him a chance when he hasn’t done anything wrong. Those three had red flags as soon as I met them. Angel hasn’t done anything of the sort and you know that. Please, Javi, give him a chance or at least be polite to him if you have to see him. I don’t expect you to like him just like I don’t like your girlfriends, but I don’t need constant criticism. Can you do that?” He wanted to object, but you could see the resignation to this conversation. 
“I can do that.” You were relieved, but that feeling over his words still left you puzzled. 
“Thank you. I love you.” Your I love you’s you shared with each other were nothing that crossed your mind for more than a second. But this one was different in the higher octave in your tone, the way it strummed a new chord with your heartstrings. Surely you just imagined it, just the heat of the moment that would soon cease to cross your mind by tomorrow.
“I love you too. I only do this because of that.” He opened his arms up to you, and you hugged him, his cologne filling your nostrils and washing your nerves away. He felt like home, and not in the way you felt when you were kids. The hugs you shared were out of comfort because you were each other’s safe haven. It was the kind where you didn’t want to let go because this was where you belonged, not for a second, minute, hour, or a day. But long-lasting.
-
You were brought back to reality when he touched your knee, the touch sending electricity through you. “I saw them and turned around to return to my car, but she saw me. He didn’t since he didn’t run after me, but she called me when I got home and told me everything. She told me when they got together, how she didn’t know I was in the picture, and how he was with her because...” The words were stuck in your throat as you knew what would happen to Javi.
“Because what?” He was strained, and you were sure his blood was boiling red hot.
“Because he’s engaged to her. He proposed to her two weeks ago, the same day he canceled our bowling date. So I called him shortly after and blew up on him about everything I learned and how I felt overall. He swore that she was lying and that she was jealous over what we had but when I wouldn’t believe him, he told me that I deserved it because I didn’t do what he wanted.” His eyes widened before they narrowed, and his look screamed infuriated.
“I’m going to go over there and-” He shot off the couch, but you pulled on his hand.
“There’s no need to finish that sentence or hurt him so stop!” You pleaded with him, but he was seeing red and Angel’s face as he wanted to morph it into something unrecognizable.
“He needs to be taught a lesson. He hurt you, so I’ll be back.” He pulled his hand out of your grasp and walked to the door, but you got up to pull him back. 
“Javi, please wait! Stay with me and forget about him. I won’t stop what you do in the morning but can you stay with me tonight like we normally do?” He knew what you were doing, but he could never say no to you when you gave him those eyes to stay. How could he say no when his heart yearned to be in your presence?
“I’ll stay for now. But tomorrow is different.” Somehow with the softness in his eyes, you knew he would listen to you in the morning.
“I can deal with that. But I’m not as heartbroken as I thought I would be.” You were somewhat dumbfounded by your lack of heartbreak, albeit happy that you wouldn’t spend your days crying. However, curiosity took up your thoughts. The nagging question of whether you were in love with him clouded your mind until Javi grabbed your hand.
“He still deserves to pay.” He rubbed your hand with the pad of his thumb, relaxing you and sending electricity through you.
“I’m not saying he doesn’t, and hopefully she’ll leave him too and he won’t have either one of us. But when I think about our timeline, it was bound to end anyways. He didn’t want to buy me flowers, he always prioritized work or rather, her over me. I would try to plan things and there was always an excuse. And…well I can’t say it now.” You turned away and walked back to the couch, embarrassment making the heat rise to your cheeks.
“You’ve already said a lot just now and you’ve told me everything growing up. What’s more going to do?” He asked as he sat back down next to you.               
“I can’t, Javi. It’s weird to say that to you.” You looked away and were sure you would die of embarrassment any minute now.
“Hey, mirame,” He asked, and you brought your head back up. “We’ve been friends since we were kids. I share everything with you and you do the same so what’s different now?” 
“Sometimes you’re a little too honest when you could leave some details out from your dates.” Countless dates he told you about ended with your wishing that you could erase some of the details from your head and the occasional pang in your heart that didn’t seem to dull with time.
“I’m never a person to leave out details,” His tone made you laugh, and the smile that followed on his face made you feel warm again. “Pero dime. I’m sure it can’t be worse than what you’ve already told me.” Oh, how he would be proven wrong.
“He never made me cum.” In all the times you’ve surprised Javi, you never expected his eyes to widen that much at your confession.
“Not once?”
“Never. I would always fake it and then finish when I got home.” The sigh he let out as he ran his fingers through his hair was surprising, given that you didn’t think it would phase him this much.
“He was that oblivious then.” The more he tried to think the opposite, the more you hated bursting his bubble.
“It’s not so much that but he just…didn’t care about it? It was more so “I want to get off, so I will,” and then I would be there waiting for it to be done at times.” The confessions kept flowing out, and the more you spoke, the more Javi was taken aback.
“Jesus. It’s a fucking requirement for who you’re sleeping with to cum.” Although it was certainly not the time for feelings to arise, it didn’t stop you from pressing your legs together absentmindedly. “I’m sorry, Bonita, I just have to ask…why did you stay for so long? You were with him for what? 2 years?”
“Almost 3 now that I think about it,” You sighed at the time lost, time wasted over someone who was never worth it in the first place. “But I don’t know, I think I stayed out of convenience, not so much out of love because when you put so much time in, you’re willing to stick it out longer than you should. He might’ve done the same, but thankfully it’s over now. I don’t feel so used anymore.” Relief washed over you to know that breaking up with him was the best thing you could’ve done for yourself after avoiding it for so long.
“You never deserved that. You’re worth so much more than what Angel gave you.” You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, but embarrassment wasn’t the culprit. Instead, the butterflies swarmed through your stomach in a surge.
“T-Thank you, Javi, but you don’t have to say those things to make me feel better. I’m okay, really.” You gave him a warm smile, but you could see his eyes were serious.
“I’m not just saying it to make you feel better, Bonita. I’m saying it because I mean it. You’re everything he never deserved and you deserve everything you want out of a relationship.” His tone was more soothing than ever with you, softer than anything you could remember in all the times he comforted you and showed care for you. 
Suddenly, the question that had popped into your head from the time you were teens to when you graduated high school, and in recent years reared into focus again. Is he in love with me? You had done everything you could think of to answer your question, studying his behavior, asking specific questions to gauge his thoughts, and even getting involved with your cousin’s love of tarot cards to get a sign. Blame the teenage hormones that got to you. Still, you were too afraid to ask and almost certain that it was the bliss of a teenage crush that would misread actions and words as affirmations of love. It only increased ten-fold at your graduation when he pulled you into a small corner as everyone was finding their families to have some alone time.
-
“Javi, where are we going? We have to get to our families.” You asked as he led you to a small area near the back of your high school’s football field.
“We’ll find them in a minute. But I know I won’t get much time with you later, so I wanted to tell you that I’m proud of you.” You were happy from the day itself, but hearing him say he was proud of you made you grin.
“Aw, Javi, I’m proud of you as well. We did it and now we get to start our new lives.” You could see the energy shift in Javi after what you said, puzzling you.
“Yeah, the future is near.” He looked away from you for a moment before you grabbed his hand.
“Hey. Are you okay?” You asked, and he forced a smile for you.
“I’m fine, I promise.”
“Are you lying?” You raised a brow at him, and he sighed.
“Maybe a little bit. It’s just…when you think about the future you think about losing people to new jobs, new people in your life, even moving away from home. All those things happen and it’s scary.” Laredo was all you both knew, and sometimes it was hard to let go and move on to get to do something else with your lives, but you didn’t know until now what that made him feel.
“Hey, no matter what happens, I’ll be right by your side, okay? No matter where we go, who we’re with, or what we do for a living, I’ll drop everything to be there for you.” His smile was genuine this time as he pulled you into a hug. You rested your head on his chest as he rested his head atop yours.
“And I’ll do the same. I love you.” You could hear the falter in his voice, awakening something in you that was threatening to leap out of your throat.
“I love you too. Are you sure you’re okay?” You asked again as you pulled out of his embrace. 
“Y-yeah, I’m fine. Also, you look really nice. I like what you did to your hair.” He moved you off-topic, and although you wanted to press more, you let it go.
“Thank you, Javi. I was hoping it would look okay on me.” You smoothed out your hair.
“You look more than okay. Mucho hermosa.” There was a glint in his eyes you hadn’t seen before, maybe something you hadn’t noticed. But how he looked at you made you feel like no one else was there. That you were alone but together in the other’s presence, that nothing could go wrong in the little world you created.
“T-thank you, b-but we should get going. I’m sure we need to take some photos.” Suddenly it felt harder to breathe, the need to say everything and anything simultaneously consuming you until you found an exit because you knew what would happen if you didn’t.
“You’re right. Let’s get going.” He led the way, and you took a deep breath, hoping you could hold it together for all the pictures. When you walked around from the fence and up the street, your families were waiting for you.
“¡Ahí tienes! no sabíamos dónde ustedes los dos.” Your mother and Javi’s mother were crying to see you both in your cap and gowns. Both families came around to hug you one by one and congratulate you.
“We wanted to wait until some people left.” You lied, and they seemed to either buy it or not care as they took out their cameras.
“That’s fine. But take a picture together!” Javi’s mother asked, and you both got closer, and he wrapped an arm around you, which satisfied both of your mothers.
“Nuestros bebés.” They said in unison. You both looked at each other and laughed, knowing they kept their promise to cry at your graduation.
“Javi, get behind her!” Your mother asked him. You were surprised, not thinking they would ask him to do that pose.
“Si! Wrap your arms around her.” His mother agreed, and he was puzzled now.
“Are they trying to make us look like a couple?” He asked you as he got behind you and wrapped his arms around you. The move alone made a swarm of butterflies go through you, but you maintained your composure.
“I wouldn’t put it past them.” You answered as he moved his head down more for the camera.
“Mija, necesito que sonrias.” You smiled for them, and the way Javi’s head was just above the crook of your neck was comforting. All the hugs you had culminated into this, even if it didn’t mean what you wanted it to mean. But to have him like this, you wouldn’t change anything.
And maybe that was why even when you moved out, you made a copy of that photo and kept it in your living room. Sure, memories could’ve been kept in a box, and there were other photos to use, but that photo was deep in your heart, the way he was deep in your soul.
-
With those memories that came flooding back, the question was imprinted into your mind, and you realized that this time, it wouldn’t leave until you got your long-awaited answer. “J-Javi? I feel like you’re leaving something out.”
“I don’t want to overwhelm you so soon.” You shook your head in response to him.
“Digame. Te prometo que puedo tomar lo que me digas.” You wanted, no, needed to hear what he had to say, whether it was good, bad, or indifferent. You would regret it if you let it go like you did at your graduation or every other instance where the question popped into your head.
“You mean everything to me, and I promise I’m not just saying that. You remind me of this quote I would always hear. Tardé una hora en conocerte y solo un día en enamorarme. Pero me llevará toda una vida lograr olvidarte.” Tears welled in your eyes, your answer finally in reach and not just a dream that would never leave your mind. 
“Javi, I never knew you felt that way.” You admitted, feeling your heart practically surge out of your chest. 
He wiped your eyes and then held your face with one hand. “I’ve felt that way for a long time, and it never stopped. I’ve always wanted you to be happy even if it was not with me, but now that I have my chance I’m taking it. I love you, I love you, I love you.”
“I love you too, Javi. I realized I loved you a few years back and it hasn’t changed for me since then.” He was surprised, and you wondered how he couldn’t see after all these years that you were irrevocably in love with him.
“¿Cuando?”
“Since we were teens, but it hit me at our graduation. Since then, I always had a little bit of hope but with who you were dating, I always pushed it down.”
He pinched the skin in between his brows with his other hand. “I never would’ve dated those girls if I knew you felt the same way. I always wanted you, and I want you right now.”
“And I want you and only you.” 
Time stood still after that. The admission out there, hearts on the line, a breakup was long forgotten as he never made you feel what Javi made you feel. The list could go on with how Javi treated you miles better than any guy you dated: safe, loved, cared for, appreciated, and special. But the energy had shifted, the air grew thicker, tension rising between you of a “Should we, should we not?” that seemed to blur the already thin line of friends to lovers you hadn’t realized was eroded. But that question was answered when he kissed you, gentle at first yet firm. 
You could faintly taste the whiskey on his lips, making you want more as it tasted better on him. His cologne was a little faded, but you could still smell it, which gave him a huskiness that you loved about him. You brought your hands up to his hair, finally raking through his curls as you had dreamed about doing for years. His other hand moved down to your body and slowly inched to your waist, careful not to overstep as you were still testing the waters. But you didn’t need to try anything when this was safe, exciting, and taking up your thoughts so that it would be all you would think about for days. You pulled a little on his hair, making him groan against your lips.
“Something you like?” You asked in between the kiss.
“Possibly,” Javi murmured before biting your lip, making you moan. He smiled against your lips when he heard you, and you knew that Javi would enjoy every bit of seeing what other sounds he could get out of you. 
“A little noisy aren’t we?” He pulled back to brush the hair out of your face, and you rolled your eyes.
“I can keep quiet.” You tried to be serious, but he didn’t buy it.
“You’re not going to because I want to hear you, and I’ll get it out of you.” His confidence surprised you.
“Who says you’ll get it out of me?” You asked, but he didn’t answer, instead opting to kiss you again and, in the middle of it, tugging on your lip before biting again. You moaned again, and he smiled, knowing he had proved his point. But that was forgotten soon after as his kiss made you feel drunk. If there was ever a time when you accidentally kissed him before this, you probably wouldn’t have waited this long to kiss him. The urge to keep going was igniting more as each second passed, and you knew it wouldn’t cease fire until your deepest desire was fulfilled. 
But then it increased ten-fold when his tongue pressed against your parted lips, making a shiver run through you. You opened them up without hesitation, allowing him to dive in just enough to experiment with you. With that, you could taste more of the whiskey, and the smell of his cologne intensified, making you clench your legs further, trying to quell your desire. But Javi felt your legs move and opened them up by pushing his hand down from your waist and between your legs, prying them open. His hand rested between your thighs, gripping a little, making you clench around nothing, given that you were wearing a dress and you could feel him fully. Oh, how badly you wanted him to remove the rest of your clothes so you could feel him skin-to-skin.
Perhaps your senses were overloaded, but his smell was intoxicating, his taste was addicting, to touch each other was electrifying, to hear how breathless he was as he kissed you, and to see how much he desired you was everything to you. With each second that passed, you craved more, and so did he, surprising you based on how he pulled you into his lap with one swift pull on your leg. His hands trailed up from your hips to your waist, holding you up as you grinded on his lips slowly.
“You’re a fucking tease.” He muttered, trailing his lips down to your chin and then jaw.
“What am I doing?” Your faked oblivious nature earned an eye roll from Javi.
“You know exactly what you’re doing.” His voice had dropped an octave when you grinded more, his dick growing and grazing you when you couldn’t wait to pull him out of his pants.
“Do you want me to stop?” You asked, looking at him as you further tangled your fingers into his hair.
“Never.” He kissed down to your neck, making you suck in a breath. Sensitivity increasing with each kiss, you knew he was reaching your sweet spot. And once he did, the sound he elicited from you made him twitch in his pants. He wanted more out of you, to give you everything you didn’t have with Angel. He wanted to worship your body, learn every inch of you, and memorize each crevice to shower you with love. There would never be another day where you felt that you were simply there while those you were with did their business. Every day would be a day where Javi could tangle himself into the sheets with you, let your wanton sounds fill the room along with his moans and grunts, and fill you up with each climax in every position he could do with you. He had you in his grasp, and he was wrapped around your finger.
Javi sucked on your sweet spot, making you whine as you tried to get used to his kisses. He was leaving a hickey, and while you usually didn’t like them, the thought of hickeys or love bites lined on your skin, a reminder of your desires manifesting into reality, made your core begin to throb. And thankfully, he didn’t stop at one. He made his mark and kissed it one last time before grabbing your ass and smacking it. It caught you off guard, and the sound you let out let him know that you enjoyed it.
“Do you want to take this to my room?” He asked.
“I’m sure. Take me there, please.” Javi smiled at your answer, grabbing your hips and getting up so he could carry you to his room. He kissed you briefly as he found his way to his room, kicking the room open before letting you down onto your feet again. He pulled off his shirt before helping you pull down the straps of your dress. He loved this color on you, complimenting your skin perfectly no matter how much you said it was a simple dress. But to take it off of you, to see the way it draped off of your breasts, falling down to the floor and drinking you in, Javi knew that he would never get tired of the sight.
Immediately, he bent down to your chest to place more hickeys on you. He wanted the reminder just as much as you did, to wake up the following day and look at his form of art on your body. He left another, and another, making a little trail that he could trace with his finger when the sun would bathe his room, and he would wait for you to get up. Finally, he reached your breasts, and his breath hit your nipple, making it hard for him.
“I take it you’re sensitive here?” His smirk let you know that he knew the answer, but you wanted to play coy.
“Maybe, maybe not.”
“Just maybe you say,” He trailed off as he licked your nipple before putting it in his mouth, keeping eye contact with you as you moaned. He swirled his tongue around, making goosebumps rise. He hummed as your head rolled back, the vibrations making you ruin your panties little by little. You put your hands in his hair again, tugging as he moved to the next one to give them equal attention. 
How did he make this so hot, turning you on before he even got to your core, where if you were lying down in bed you would be taking control and putting him inside you yourself. He was completely different than all the men you had been with. Rushed, lack of effort, lack of attention to your needs. But Javi paid close attention to you, seeing that if you liked the way he licked or nibbled on your nipple, he would do it again and again and again. His attention to you never waved, only it increased as he moved from your breasts down to your stomach, peppering kisses that made your heart skip a beat.
Javi reached for your panties, dragging his hands to their hem and looking at you to give the okay. You wanted him to pull them down, but you suddenly felt bad. “Javi, I want to make you feel good as well.” He got up and cupped your face. 
“Déjame cuidarte. Te daré todo lo que te mereces.” Your heart melted, and your core ached at those words, but it didn’t shake your guilt.
“But-” It was on the tip of your tongue, and Javi knew what it was.
“Cariño, you are beautiful. Everything about you is beautiful to me.” He reassured you before he planted a kiss on your cheek.
“How can you say that when this is your first time seeing me like this?”
“Yes, this is my first time seeing you naked, pero, amo todo de tí,” He kissed your forehead first. “Amo tu frente, ojos, nariz, mejillas, labios, mandíbula, cuello, senos, estómago, caderas, muslos, pantorrillas, tobillos, pies.” He kissed you all the way down your body, touching you softly and finally kissing his hand to place onto your feet. “Y lo que aún no he explorado sé que me encantará es tu culo, y tu coño.” Javi kissed your clothed core, making you tense a bit. 
You nodded your head and allowed him to pull them down, and you saw his mouth water when he could see your wetness pooling. You stepped out of your panties and spread your legs a little, allowing him to swipe a finger up your slit to gather your slick, putting his finger in his mouth and tasting you. The look that he gave you of pure adoration and attraction made you weak at the knees as he wasted no time in diving in with his mouth, tongue spreading your lips, and getting up everything he could in your slit. You were caught off guard by how he moved his hands up to your ass to keep you in place as he got up everything he could. But then, he latched on to your clit and sucked, licked, and hummed, making you moan his name like a chant that wouldn’t end until you came.
“Javi, fuck that feels really good.” You praised, tugging at his hair again as he hummed louder and sucked more feverishly. Pleasure, ecstasy, bliss, cloud nine, all the words you could think of couldn’t compare to how this felt. You were surprised you could think at this point given how the pleasure was building in your stomach at top speed, and when his skilled fingers pressed in between your folds and into your dripping core, you were gone. Matching pace with his mouth, taking his time to find your spot, and then hooking on to it repeatedly, the curl beckoning you to gush on his fingers. You didn’t need him to ask you, and before you could register what was happening, you came hard. Walls pulsing, clenching around Javi’s fingers. clit throbbing, overstimulated, yet you couldn’t pull off as he rode you through your orgasm. The hairs on your neck stood high as you slowly descended from your high. How you were still standing was a mystery, but you were grateful when he finally pulled you off to pick you up and lay you on the bed. 
“God, you taste so fucking good.” He whispered as he kissed your hips before diving in again. His hands hooked onto your hips, allowing your thighs to press against his head as he lapped up everything. You gripped his sheets, whining as he fingered you again while licking your juices. He swapped between licking it off his fingers and pushing his tongue in to get it faster. You started to rock your hips against his mouth to get what you wanted, and he could feel his dick getting rock hard over how needy you were for him.
“Javi, fuck I-please don’t stop!” Your mind failed you at making a coherent and complete sentence, but he knew what you needed as he focused on sucking your clit and fingering you again. Your overstimed clit made you whimper, but it soon turned into praise for Javi as he brought you to your second orgasm, making your roll your hips and your legs shake as it hit you again. Harder than before, your eyes rolling back as he never lost his grip on you. Two orgasms in a short time, yet you still needed him inside you. Your vision cleared up when he pulled up from your thighs and you saw your slick lining his lips. He licked it up before kissing you, your hands trailing down to help him out of his pants.
“I need you. I really fucking need you.” You whispered against his lips. Your fingers fumbled with his button, but you got it unhooked, one hand holding himself up as he tried to get them off with your help. He stood up a bit to fully get those and his boxers off before climbing back on top of you. Your hands found their way to his dick after you spat in your hand, and you stroked him slowly, feeling the veins you wanted to feel against your walls. He sucked in a deep breath as you stroked from tip to base, kissing his jaw and neck. It was a little hard to wrap your hand around his dick, given his above-average girth, but it was something you would enjoy as he got deep inside you. His tip was curved as well, giving you an idea. You swiped your thumb over the tip, and the coating of pre-cum made your mouth water as you wanted to taste him, let him cum down your throat, and let his moans fill the room. Your fantasy made you focus on the tip, going faster and your thumb circling around the tip as he let out a gasp.
“Fuck, baby. J-Just like that.” He rasped out, letting his head fall and bite your neck. You kept pace, knowing you had him right where you wanted him. He was unraveling for you as you did for him, and perhaps you would make him cum from a handjob alone before he could thrust deep inside you to give you what you both desired. But he moved your hand away and moved up, to which you looked down and saw how painfully hard he was.
“If you keep going like that I’ll cum on your stomach.” He admitted, and the vision of him spilling on your stomach was making you burn red hot.
“Well, now I know what to do in the future.” You smiled, and he kissed you again, reaching for his condom. You watched him put it on, rolling it down and seeing the way it fit him, stretching for him as you were going to do for him. With it on, he slotted himself between your legs, letting the tip rub on your lips. It made you roll your hips so the tip could slip between your folds, knowing that your clit was overstimulated to the point where every touch would make you jolt. His tip brushed against your clit, and you moaned into his mouth while your kiss got very messy, very fast. Needing to hear your moans again, he matched your rocking to keep brushing against your sensitive clit, the sensation almost too much for you.
“You’re so wet, hermosa. Did I do this to you?” He asked, pulling back where you could see the smirk lining his lips and for him to see your reaction.
“Y-you did. Fuck, please don’t stop.” You stammered out, the ability to speak fading further away.
“I need to feel you baby. I need to feel you cum on my dick.” He took his hand and swiped up in your slit, gathering your slick on his fingers and stroking himself with it, making sure he could slide in without a hitch. He stroked himself while looking at you, and to see how badly he wanted you was still unbelievable. He noticed your nervousness and stopped, leaning down to kiss your forehead.
“Hey, there’s nothing to be nervous about. If you want me to stop, I will.” He reassured you, still giving you an out knowing that this was a lot to take in.
“It’s not that. I really want this but Javi…your gaze, it’s intimidating.” You admitted.
“Baby, I’ve enjoyed looking at you before this happened and now. I don’t mean to intimidate you, but remember, it’s just me. Nothing’s really changed, okay?” It was partly a lie to say nothing changed when you were just given two mind-blowing orgasms, but Javi knew how to make your heart melt even when it was racing out of your chest.
“I know. But…he never looked at me like that.” His face changed when he said it, wanting to give you everything you deserved as you deserved to feel desired, wanted, and beautiful. 
“If he doesn't wanna make you feel pretty, I'll show you how fucking pretty you are.” His tip was still near your hole, making it easier for him to slide in, causing you to gasp and clench around it. Your hands moved up on his body, hooking onto his back. He felt perfect inside you, filling and stretching you out more than you could imagine. 
“You feel so good, baby.” He moaned out as he finished filling you up, inch by inch. Still comfortable inside you, yet the stretch was something you would never get enough of. He let you adjust, kissing your forehead again to give you time. 
“You feel so much better. Please move,” Javi moved right away, slowly pulling out and pushing in while you pulsed around him each time. You wrapped your legs around him and scratched his back, making him moan. You wanted to leave marks on his back as he wanted to leave love bites on you.
“That’s it, baby. Scratch my back and leave marks on me,” He sped up, letting the sounds of how wet you were for him fill the room. You scratched his upper back a little more, making him fuck you harder. His curved tip brushed closer to your spot, and when he decided to thrust up into you, you were pleasantly overstimulated. 
“I told you I was going to get more sounds out of you.” You rolled your eyes as he laughed, but you were rolling your eyes back when he continued to fuck you. Yet, he was not rough with you. He moved his hand to go underneath your neck and bring you closer to him, the other holding him up so he would not have too much of his weight on you. Javi made sure that you were enjoying yourself, his tenderness evident. Patience, tenderness, and love were evident, especially when you looked at him and saw how he looked at you with adoration, lust, and love. You were aglow in his gaze, not intimidating once you got used to it, and you never wanted to leave. 
But those three words were lodged in your throat, threatening to come out despite your efforts to suppress them. The nerves were rising, but you blurted it out faster than you could’ve covered it up. “I love you,Javi.”
“I love you too. Always have, always will.” Javi didn’t break eye contact as he said it, and you could see he was serious. He leaned down to kiss you again, pouring all his love into it. It felt different at this juncture, but you were willing to continue down this path with him for as long as you could.
But what you couldn’t hold on to was your composure once it started to build in your lower stomach, the tension increasing with each thrust and your previous orgasms playing into it. Javi could feel you tighten around him more, which made him leave your lips again so he could watch you cum. He moved his hand away from your neck and between you both, slipping his fingers right to your clit and rubbing small circles to inch you closer to your release.
“You’re doing so good baby. I’m so proud of you.” He praised, and your whine in return made his tip twitch. You kept pulsing, legs tightening around him, letting him know you were close. “Cum for me baby, please. Make a mess for me.” 
You scratched his back hard, cumming all over just as he asked you to do. It was intense, your legs feeling like jelly and goosebumps rising by the second. And to see the way you threw your head back in ecstasy ignited something in him. He had to fuck you through it, had to make you feel everything all at once because your pleasure was all he cared about. But alas, you came down, completely spent after all he did. But if he asked for another, you would do it all over again, loving the way he would watch you cum for him with absolute attentiveness.
Thankfully, Javi moved his hand away from your sensitive clit to hold himself up, knowing his climax was near. You could feel him lose control, seeing how he bit his lip and how he wanted to savor each moment with how good it felt to feel your pulse around him. He was in a state of ecstasy as well, and he never wanted to leave it.
“F-fuck, I’m getting close.” He thrusted faster, desperation taking over to cum deep inside you. 
“Please cum for me Javi. Soy todo tuyo.” Those last three words pushed him closer to the edge.
“Mi mente, cuerpo, y alma es tuyo.” Javi barely got it out before he came, grunting as he spilled inside the condom when he would much rather spill inside you. His thrusts were rough, needing to have every inch deep inside you. You pulsed around him to overstimulate him, to which he was not surprised when another drop of cum shot out in response to your actions.
You could tell he was tired, so you held him close, allowing him to rest a little on top of you so he could catch his breath. Your hands went up to his hair, playing in it as he rubbed his thumb back and forth on your hip. Skin-to-skin, completely bare, but not just in the physical sense. It was in every sense as you had previously shed all your layers with him, letting him see the deepest parts of you as he did with you. This was simply the final layer, but it was the most fitting after developing everything else with him over the years.
"If you keep playing in my hair like that I'll fall asleep on you." He mumbled, eliciting a laugh out of you. You both stayed in that position briefly, the closeness comforting you and reminding you that this was not a dream. 
Sadly, he did get up to pull out of you, throw the condom out, and get some towels to clean you both up. He wiped you down first, removing any sweat and cleaning up the wetness between your thighs. Once he wiped himself down and put them in the bin, he got right back into bed with you and pulled you close, allowing you to rest your head on his chest.
“How are you feeling?” He asked, a hand rubbing your back. 
“I’m feeling pretty good. How are you feeling?” 
“Amazing,” He admitted, making you laugh. “But are you okay with everything that happened?”
“Of course I am. I wouldn’t have done any of that if I didn’t feel right about it. But are you okay with what we did?” You craned your neck up to look at him.
“I am, but I just want to be sure. You know I love you.” To hear him say it with a different meaning brought a smile to your face. 
“I love you, Javi.” Your tiredness was hitting you hard, your voice much softer than before. You moved your head back down to lay on his chest comfortably.
“And I love you, mi flor. I’ll take you out this weekend.” 
“Are you asking me on a date?” You asked as he drew circles on your back.
“Yes I am.”
“Then ask me properly.” He moved back so he could face you properly.
“Will you go out on a date with me this weekend?” He asked, and you loved the fact that he asked you properly.
“Yes I will, but we don’t have to go out this weekend since I know you have work. We can always go the following weekend.” You didn’t want to strain him, but he didn’t have it.
“I’m taking you out because I want to. You deserve to be shown off and treated right, so I’m taking you out this weekend.” You admired his insistence, even though there was stubbornness laced in.
“You’re so bossy all the time.” You rolled your eyes at him.
“It’s not bossy if you like it.” He shot back, and you would never admit that he was right.
“Maybe I do.” You tried to play it off, but there was no use.
“Just maybe? Because just a little earlier you liked it when I-“ You shushed him with a kiss.
You pulled back and rested your head back on his chest. “Don’t finish that. Just go to sleep.” 
“I will, but I find it funny that this was a complete change from our usual breakup routine.” The realization hit you since this was a complete change. 
“Yeah it is. But I think I like this one more.”
“Well there won’t be another routine after this.” Oh, he was certain of it.
“And you’re so sure of that?” You challenged, but he didn’t back down.
“Positive.” Without saying it, you knew that he was not planning on going anywhere, and neither were you.
“Of course you are. But goodnight, Javi. I love you.” As you closed your eyes, you slurred your words, but you knew you were safe.
“I love you more. Goodnight.”
-
Translations:
Escuchame - Listen to me
Mirame - Look at me
Pero dime - But tell me
Bonita - Pretty
Mas hermosa - Most beautiful
¡Ahí tienes! no sabíamos dónde ustedes los dos - There you are! we didn't know where you two were.
Nuestros bebés - Our babies
Mija, necesito que sonrias - My daughter (this is the direct translation but can also mean darling) I need you to smile.
Digame. Te prometo que puedo tomar lo que me digas - Tell me. I promise I can take what you tell me.
Tardé una hora en conocerte y solo un día en enamorarme. Pero me llevará toda una vida lograr olvidarte. - It took me an hour to meet you and only one day to fall in love. But it will take me a lifetime to forget you.
¿Cuando? - When?
Déjame cuidarte. Te daré todo lo que te mereces - Let me take care of you. I'll give you everything you deserve.
Cariño - From my understanding, it can mean a lot of things, but it is mostly a term of affection, like cute or sweetheart.
Pero, amo todo de tí - But I love everything about you
Amo tu frente, ojos, nariz, mejillas, labios, mandíbula, cuello, senos, estómago, caderas, muslos, pantorrillas, tobillos, pies. Y lo que aún no he explorado sé que me encantará es tu culo, y tu coño. - I love your forehead, eyes, nose, cheeks, lips, jaw, neck, breasts, stomach, hips, thighs, calves, ankles, feet. And what I haven't explored yet I know I'll love is your ass, and your pussy.
Hermosa - Gorgeous
Soy todo tuyo - I am all yours
Mi mente, cuerpo, y alma es tuyo - My mind, body and soul are yours
Mi flor - My flower
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