#Tomorrow cannot come soon enough

[eccedente]

Just some random sims from my saves.

Left to right: Barnaby, Jeffrey, Gor & Ross

[tetedurfarm]

so it turns out i have more rabbits than i have space for 😬 so we're pretty crowded at weaning. the good news is when i get back from my trip i'll be selling a lot of these guys which will make things easier. but i held back a bunch of kits from this last round of litters and didn't realise i was so tight on space. whoops.

[jacob-blogs]

Suffering

[heavenlydreamangelflyhigh]

i miss my gf so much i get anxious like a lost puppy :(

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

i prefer childhood friends to lovers A HUNDRED TIMES over enemies to lovers—seeing your post about it got me thinking about a fic or even hcs about baby katsuki and baby yn... hanging out in diapers, pulling each other's hair, katsuki crying when he hasn't seen you (this kind of thing would be PERFECT in ur writing style)

OH EM GEEEEE this concept exactly tysm yall get me (also tysm im flattered tehehehhehehe💕)

not really baby baby suki but i had a thought recently and its that toddler katsuki cannot understand the concept of you not being able to come over to see him every single day,,like, you hung out yesterday..so why not today ? and tomorrow ? and forever !

like he doesn’t understand when his mom tells him that you can’t come over today, little brows furrowed and a cute little pout on his face. puffed out little cheeks and he stomps because yes you can ! you came yesterday!

“but she can’t today, baby.” his mom tells him and it stumps him absolutely. like why ?? and a tantrum ensues.

he’s also extremely dramatic when you have to leave, he’ll try literally everything acting like hes on the clock when your parents come pick you up from his house. he keeps you in his room or he insists you both hide somewhere to waste time. he gets a little scolding from his mom every time but he never learns his lesson. ever.

so here he stands, in between his mom’s legs waving you off. at first, he’ll pout and run off to his room to be moody, but he has to see you leave every time because if he misses you leaving he’ll get even crankier. so soon enough you hear stomping from downstairs and katsuki barges between his mom’s legs, which earns him an annoyed “katsuki !” but he doesn’t care. eyebrows fixed tight and you wave him bye bye, and he answers with a pouty little “bye.” until he can see you again.

[wyvernest]

cregan stark x f!targaryen!reader

previous(first) part - next part | all chapters list

>Queen Rhaenyra has sent you away from the brewing war to safety since your brother, Jacaerys, has secured the Pact of Ice and Fire. You have to honor it by marrying Lord Cregan Stark.

cw: slow burn, fluff, eventual smut, angst, follows book events with slight deviations, im planning to let jacaerys live! every chapter is around 2k wc

chapter cw: tension, fluff, a little angst, they are starting to fall for eachother

“The ceremony will be held tomorrow.” Cregan’s deep and steely voice rings with an imposing echo onto the stone walls of the great hall of Winterfell. “My lady is worn from the journey.”

Although the order seemingly held some benevolence to your sore legs and southern blood barely adjusting to the newfound cold, his voice feels so detached that you find yourself wondering whether he truly did care for your spirits, or if he only wished it as a polite formality.

“I will take my leave before sundown, sister.” Jacaerys places a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I must be back at Dragonstone before the new moon.”

“Ill news?” you ask, already troubled and feeling incapacitated from protecting and helping your family.

“Ser Criston Cole marches on Duskendale lands. I must be present at the council to take action.”

“What about me?” You worry, and only after speaking do you realize how stupid the question was.

Jacaerys takes a moment to reply, evidently not wanting to make you feel more secluded than you were.

“I will not make any decision that you wouldn't have in my stead.” He decides, “I will send you ravens to inform you, and represent you.” a pause, “unofficially.”

There is nothing more to be said. Any words he could sweeten end with the same inevitable finale. No raven could fly fast enough to deliver your ideas soon enough for the Greens not to gain an advantage over the reluctance of your team.

You are a pawn. Your dragon is a pawn. And you will only read about the war as if it were history before you could contribute.

“I understand.” You manage to let out without showing how disturbed you are and possibly making the northern lords think that you were terrified to marry their leader.

With a hug too frail to even begin to express how much you will miss him, your brother mounts his dragon after the welcoming festivities in the great hall and takes off with a blow of wings that normally would have had you taking a few steps back from Vermax.

But now it didn't matter anymore. You watch as your only friend dissolves into the skies thick with white clouds, becoming nothing but a raven in the distance.

Suvion cries out, a sharp, strained screech that only pain as great as yours could have caused, and the clouds answer, though you cannot see him anymore.

You are taken aback at the feeling of heavy pelts placed upon your shoulders, and only then you realize how cold you are. Your frigid fingers reach around your own neck to grasp at it and keep it from falling.

“The cold is treacherous. One moment you may think you're warm, and the following, your heart stops.” Cregan comes to stand next to you, looking away to where Vermax had disappeared.

“Thank you, my lord.” You speak coyly, quietly, so he wouldn't catch the crack in your voice and think you weak and soft. Perhaps in a different situation, you would have blushed at his kindness, but the ice wall you felt between you and him was now more palpable than ever. Alone, with a stranger.

“You should come inside.” He insists, but it is not advice, it's a courteous command.

Without a word, you turn and listen. You are escorted to your chamber in the castle, and as you pass through the halls, you look around like a lowborn in a dragonpit. At least that's what it must look like, but in your heart it was storming; how different the place was from what you have known your whole life, the people, the sounds in the yard, the very air of the keep.

He stops in front of your door, beckoning you inside.

“Send for me should you need anything your handmaiden cannot provide.”

His voice is softer, as if trying to indulge you and your loss. As if he understands.

“Yes, my lord.”

“Cregan.”

You do not know for certain if there truly is a gleam of affection in his eyes as he says it, but you do know that you held yourself back from leaning forward in his arms.

Oh, how you wanted to just let it out, and how you wanted him to hold you through it. To offer some comfort that, at least, he cared for you. That he wasn't a cold hearted man with nothing warmer than diplomatic skills. Whom you would have to learn how to love the hard way. Only you know how your heart briefly yearned for him to offer you strength.

But alas, it was not proper. Too soon.

“Cregan.” You accept, and he barely hears it. Your heart sinks when he nods politely and slowly shuts the door, and it sinks further at the sound of his boots on the cold stone outside your chamber, walking away.

A terribly tragic thought slips into your tired mind; that he is betrothed to you, yet his heart belongs to another. Northerners love northerners, and the Stark men have mostly married into vassal houses of the north in the past.

No matter how loyal he is to be from now, his thoughts will always be about her, the people will always know about her.

Suvion's head appears at your window, blocking out the moonlight.

“Oh, you,” You whine, opening the windows and laying your upper body on his snout.

You hear someone gasp and scream in the courtyard, no doubt because of the dragon clawing at the walls of the castle.

“We should find some place good for you. Somewhere safe and warm.” He growls sorrowfully, as if aware.

But it doesn't last long. As quickly as he came at the window, Suvion rips away from your touch and carefully leaps out of the castle yard and up into the night sky. His otherwise white scales now partly reflect the dark of night in their shine, making it impossible for you to even tell how high up he was.

Alone again. You knew he wouldn't go far, that he only needed to hunt and come back, but you wished for leverage that was now gone.

Restless and troubled, you decide to take a stroll around the keep that is to be yours in less than a day.

You follow your curiosity back to the great hall, from where you hear whispered voices and see glimmers of lit torches.

“...of the beast. Food is scarce.”

“It will set eyes upon us.”

“Lord Glover, this is necessary. I do not wish-”

The lords at the table turn abruptly at the sight of the shadow you cast into the obscured hall.

“My lady. Is everything alright?” You hear Cregan's voice, his face away from light.

You feel embarrassed and stupid, interrupting a clearly important talk of resources that did not yet concern you and making the impression of a spoiled, uneducated woman.

“No- I didn't mean to intrude.”

“You could never be intruding on talks of our domain.” He attempts to soothe your nerves, although the implication of responsibilities is indomitable in his tone.

You approach them, carefully eyeing the other lords, feeling quite literally akin to a lizard slithering into a den of wolves. You cannot read anything on their stern faces, and it doesn't fail to make you uneasy and put your guard up.

“The dragon, my lady,” one of them starts, a man well past his youth, “he is a welcomed weapon in the North, although -”

“Although it is true that war has brought us both here, my lord, a dragon is not a weapon.” You warn with a poised expression, as respectfully as you could, yet fire dripped from your words.

The other men frowned in surprise and disapproval, but said nothing. You glance at Cregan, by your side, hoping to be faced with kindness, but instead your heart skips a beat at the sight of a cutthroat look he was throwing at the men, protective of your contribution.

“-apologies. The dragon is a welcomed ally. But livestock is barely enough to get us through what's to come. What are we to offer? Sheep?”

“We have endured harsher winters with lesser than we have today.” Your betrothed reassures, despite the evident growing concern.

“Suvion is big enough to hunt for himself, I dare say. The cold doesn't seem to burden him. There is absolutely no need to thin out the herd for him, my lords.”

You struggle to conceal a sharp gasp when his hand runs up your lower back. A way to show approval of your input, no doubt, yet you find that every crumble of affection he grants you is more than enough to spark fire in your body. Is that what you have come to?

You were worried enough that the rough stoicism of the north man wouldn't provide half the love you dreamed of, yet now you falter on that thought. If such a touch is already setting you alight, what would more do?

“A good omen. Prince Velaryon’s first visit wasn't as uneventful.”

“It is settled then. We will discuss other matters after the wedding.” He commanded, and your stomach flipped at the mention of your union.

With the lords out of the room, Cregan turns to you.

“I thought you would be resting. It's near the hour of the ghosts.” He speaks gently with a warm vibration in his voice, as if you have been wedded for years and he knows all about your practices and nature.

“I couldn't. The more I lay there waiting, the more it felt like I would never find sleep again.”

A faint smile lights up your tense visage, an instinctual way of wanting to see him soften as well.

He looks intently, clearly understanding of your friendliness, but it does nothing to soothe his brow further.

“Come. I wish to speak with you, since neither of us cannot find slumber.”

Neither of us? What is that supposed to mean?

You once again hook your arm around his, his body heat immediately warming you up and putting you at ease. He leads you into his chambers, a strong fire already lit in the hearth.

“Is this proper?”

“Whoever shall dare speak ill of my wife will never speak again.”

A shiver runs up your spine. Whether it's a pleasant or a distressed one, you cannot tell anymore.

“I know how you must feel, although it may not seem like it.” He begins, beckoning you to sit on the edge of the bed. “It's the duty that comes with the name.”

“Yes.” You agree, wanting to hear more of what he wishes to tell you. “Although my biggest concern lies with my position. I feel…” You cease before you could say something like “trapped” or “exiled”. He has been nothing but good to you since you arrived and you do not want to seem ungrateful or hostile. You do like him.

But before you could find the right words, he kneels in front of you on the floor and takes your hands in his. Your heart stops. Your brain shuts down. Gods.

“-powerless.” He untangles your mind and finishes your thought. “But you aren't. We will offer help, I do not intend to trample the oath I swore to your brother. The oath I am to swear to you.” He adds, his tone is soft and tender yet his words so meaningful and heavy, you hear them as though their echo reverberated in the entire room around you.

His thumb delicately rubs over your knuckles, his expression as stoic as ever, only his actions speak differently. He leans forward and places a kiss on the back of your hand, assuring and loving.

You draw in a sharp breath, as if you haven't felt affection before in your life.

“Cregan.” is all you manage.

“It is true that this union was made with interest. But you are not unwanted, my lady. I believe we will find more than allies in each other.”

TAGS!! im sorry for those that don't work its tumblr's fault i checked all of them multiple times

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[loving-august]

can i tie a ribbon around your biceps?

pairings. bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

genre. all fluff

links. navigation | masterlist

notes. Midterms is coming close and instead of studying, my mind popped an idea after the IG reel I saw months ago :))

You waited.

You waited for this moment to come.

Not that you are nervous around katsuki, goodness no. It's just, Katsuki has a knack of snarky remarks whenever you have something to do to him. And most of the time, he's busy with his job. Saving people from day to night was part of his daily routine. He’s the number 2 hero, of course. Although he’s not the actual number one hero, your words of praise kept him going. He’ll tease you for a sap. But he’s thankful enough with you staying by his side even during his worst and best times.

You waited for him from the living room as you lay down on the couch, scrolling with your phone. Soon, a sound came from outside. The sound of heavy boots and the sound of the key from the main door, indicates that he’s home. He always tells you to lock the main door even if you are still in the shared apartment with him, he cannot let any danger come to you.

The door opened, revealing your boyfriend in all his glory. He was wearing his black t-shirt, with his hero costume underneath and he was holding a briefcase with his gauntlets inside.

“I'm home.” he announced.

You rose from the couch and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “Welcome home, katsuki, have you eaten yet? I have leftovers. Your mom gave me food for the both of us.”

Katsuki grumbled, and he silently placed his things at the corner of the living room. The sound of his home slippers came closer to you as he inspected the food inside the Tupperware. “What did she bring?” He asked.

You let out a sly smile. “My favourite."

“Ha? That's the third time she gave us,” he went closer to the kitchen counter and took the Tupperware.

“Are you jealous?”

“hell no.”

You laughed at his reply. It is true that this was the third time that Mitsuki sent your favorite food whenever she dropped by the apartment.

Katsuki silently washed his hands as you prepared his food. After preparing, katsuki sat down and you sat down oppositely to him, giving the heart eyes to look at him.

“you're so handsome. Did I tell you that?” You started.

Before he took a bite, he looked at you with his eyebrow raised at you. “Don't beat around the bush. What do you want?”

He knows when you want something or him to do something. It's always that look you give him.

“Oh, you know… the ribbon thing with your biceps. Can I tie a ribbon around your biceps?” You popped the question.

“Headlock wasn't enough for ya? Such a greedy girl,”

“Come on! Wrapping a ribbon around your biceps is cute! But it would be hotter if you flexed your muscles and the ribbon would just snap, pretty please?”

He was speechless. Just how are you desperate to do that?

“Fine. But you're washing the dishes until tomorrow night.”

“I accept!”

You hurriedly left the dining table and went to your shared room. You quickly look for the ribbon inside the drawers of your closet. When you left the table, he let out a light chuckle.

“So fucking cute..” he said to himself.

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED !!

© 2024 loving-august. All Rights Reserved. Do not repost. Do not plagiarize. Do not share on other platforms. Will get slapped if u do.

[earthtooz]

x : AFTERGLOW :*+ﾟ it's all me, just don't go !

in which: rin doesn't realise what he has until it's gone. now that you're gone, he will do anything to get you back.

warnings: 5.2k wc, ANGST TO FLUFF, breakup, toxic relationship towards the beginning, rin is really mean to gn!reader, hopeful ending, rin is devastatingly in love and pathetic, reader and rin are adults + he's a soccer player, other characters make an appearance and are friends with reader, mentions of throwing up, mentions of food, both reader and rin cry, just listen to taylor swift's 'afterglow'.

a/n: FINALLY, THIS FIC THAT I STARTED ALL THE WAY BACK IN APRIL IS DONE. GOODNESS. i have mixed feelings towards this piece, but i cannot withhold it from the world any longer. i'm going to forget i ever wrote this and move on! this literally took three drafts to finish.

you don’t know when your relationship with itoshi rin began to crumble since it isn’t an event that can be pinpointed, not a date that can be marked in your calender, and most certainly not a reminder you can set in your phone. 

your friends keep telling you that you need to think back on it, that although it hurts, it was a necessary step in healing and getting over him. the more you reflect on it, however, your heart would only shatter into more fragments, with each one piercing you with the memories of better times. 

when did his expression turn sour? when did he begin looking at you with such disdain? when did he decide he didn’t need you anymore?

when did rin’s chips of insecurity wedge themselves between you?

the only memory that serves as an answer occurred at 7:00 pm one regular night. if you think hard enough, you can remember how the plush couch cushions sank under your weight, the clicks of the clock that had a second hand minutely too fast, and the sinking feeling of premonition in your gut. 

the latest rin ever comes back is 6:00, and if not, he would have let you known why he wasn’t home.

so where was he? the takeout you bought for dinner is getting cold and your stomach is growing louder and more impatient by the second. you didn’t want to eat without him though since it’s something you did daily; eating together as a way of debriefing and letting go of the stress that the day brought.

after an onslaught of unanswered phone calls from you, at 7:15, rin merely texts a ‘won’t be home for a while. eat without me’, and although rin was naturally curt and straightforward, the text had a depravity of… him, somehow. either way, his message causes a swirl of emotions in your stomach; unpleasant ones that begin to grow a nauseous shade of green.

you put rin’s takeaway in the fridge regardless, sending him a quick text telling him to be safe and that you’ll see him soon. 

he probably got caught up with something. you’re sure it’ll be fine. 

you shouldn’t have ignored that sinking feeling of premonition. shouldn’t have pushed down the unease swirling in your stomach when shutting the door to the refrigerator before stalking over to the kitchen island with slow steps as you prepare to eat in silence. no one to keep you company except your own thoughts and the ghost of rin’s presence.

and when rin does come home almost two hours later, he stills calls your name as usual, you still go to him as usual, he greets you with a tired smile as usual, you hug him as usual, he doesn’t kiss the top of your forehead, though. you ignore it, pushing your thoughts aside because he was home. he finally came back. you’ll wake up tomorrow and this uneasy feeling will sort itself out.

except it doesn’t.  

from that night onwards, rin changes. slowly, but surely, the cracks of change manifest in your relationship and through it all, you choose to cast a blind eye, plastering over it with sightless belief in your love. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

the queasy feeling in your gut never stills. it fades at times when your mind is busy with other things, but it inevitably gets drawn back into the whirlpool of concern regarding your lover- or, rather, rin.

you think you’re still in a relationship, but you don’t really know anymore. you haven’t seen him in a while. the only indication of his existence that you get are the stray bowls he leaves on the kitchen counter whenever he’s done eating, the lessening weight of his protein powder containers, and the decrease of various food items from the fridge that you restock here and there.

it feels like you’re living with a ghost.

some nights, when it gets the most lonely, your mind betrays you, completely eliminating any and all trust you had in rin. 

you wonder if there’s another person. another lover that he feels more passionately for. another lover that his heart had gravitated towards, abandoning yours in the process. perhaps that is the explanation behind his absence. 

but no evidence points towards that conclusion. there has been no suspicious deduction of bills from his bank statement that would suggest infidelity, his location is constantly at the sports stadium whenever you check, and there are no traces of a lover on him- not even you. 

it is not totally blasphemous to assume that itoshi rin wouldn’t be engrossed in soccer to the point that he’d spend unhealthy and obsessive hours into honing his abilities, but it feels a little traitorous that he could forget about life outside of the sport. it isn’t just you he’s neglecting. his mother and father have been constantly asking when he’ll come over to spend some time together, his teammates have been asking you about rin’s whereabouts and when he’ll be free and what’s worse is that you never know how to answer every time. 

it’s embarrassing to be seen as a lover that is forgettable enough for rin to dismiss, so you lie and lie and lie, telling everyone that you’ll tell them later, that he’s fine and just busy, and you lie to yourself. you tell yourself that rin will be home soon so you two can talk about it, and then everything will return to normal.

(your reflection looks through your facade, disheartened and worried.)

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“why are you late?” 

you jump at the voice that greets you when you step foot in the apartment and the sight before you causes you to wonder just how tired you feel, because rin is in your apartment, where he’s meant to be, for once. not only that, but he’s leaning against the couch, adorned in loungewear and slippers, and the sight is too foreignly domestic for your comprehension. 

coming home to a house with someone there feels nice. 

he’s lost a little bit of muscle and fat, but his frame is still as intimidating; shoulders broad and built, just the faintest indicator into the athletic body he’s developed over the years. his hair is a little longer too. 

“oh, rin, hi.” you mutter, surprise evident in your tone.

“hello.”

“since i got a promotion,” you respond simply. rin makes no move to approach you, no initiative to take your bag and put it on the couch for you. instead, he stays rooted in his position leaning against the couch, arms crossed.

the air around him feels hostile, and suddenly you’re almost afraid to speak. “and does that promotion change your work hours or something?”

(he doesn’t congratulate or celebrate your achievement.)

“i work with flexible hours now but the office is further and the commute is so bothersome.”

rin uncrosses his arms with a thoughtful hum, gaze glued to the floor, mind occupied. you approach him slowly, pulling your bag off your shoulder and setting it in the entrance near the genkan with a thud, the sound sobering to him.

when he looks back up, you don’t want to acknowledge the emptiness in his icy eyes, barren of the usual determination that defined itoshi rin. but if you knew that that day would be the beginning of the end, perhaps you would have done something about it.

when you opened your arms for him, perhaps you would have hugged him a little tighter, a little longer, strained all the stress out of his shoulders.

perhaps you would have protected him a little harder from the cruelties of his own mind; shown him that the world was not out to get him, and that there was a place for people like him in the world (people who can’t see their own value and instead, berate themselves for their waning self-worth because they cannot see the light behind them).

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“i’m going to shower,” rin declares once the moment both of you step in the safety of your shared home.

“no, you’re not! not before we talk,” you demand, hurriedly taking off your shoes so you can face him before he slips out of your grasp. the dark-haired turns to look at you with an unamused expression, the way tonight seemed to drag on obviously taking a toll on him.

“you’re gonna stop me from taking a shower, really?”

“yes because what the fuck was going on with you tonight?”

he narrows his eyes into slits, the pure intimidation that rin naturally emanates almost threatening you into submission. however, for the humiliation you’ve had to endure tonight, you won’t budge.

“i don’t understand,” rin says monotonously. you roll your eyes.

“you don’t understand? what’s that supposed to mean?”

“i don’t know what you’re getting mad over.”

“the fact that you didn’t even try to talk to me- let alone look at me, once this entire night?”

your partner looks away, crossing his arms over his chest. “that’s an exaggeration,” he huffs.

“no it’s not!” you recall the looks of pity sent your way when rin sat beside you unmoving and unresponsive to any conversation you tried to make. “would it have killed to show you some sort of interest?”

“would it kill you to not receive attention for one night?” he retaliates. 

“it’s not about that-”

“really? sure feels like it. i don’t have time to shower you with all my attention, y/n, there are other things i have to do.” 

there are a million things you want to say to rin, a million emotions that you have felt whilst he’s been absent, a million examples of how he’s been leaving you behind and how you’re now fed up of keeping these millions to yourself. yet, not a word leaves you, too stunned by the stranger in front of you to voice it all out. 

rin, however, takes your silence as defeat and turns to leave.

“you’re being dramatic. i’m going to shower before i waste anymore time with this lukewarm conversation.” 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

the night your relationship officially fell apart is one you still remember vividly, because it only happened a few days ago.

in your memory, the night was nearing 9pm, yet rin had still not come home. 

your heart takes you to him because as much as your relationship with him has caused you nothing but pain recently, you know itoshi rin. you know him because you’re soulmates and where he goes, there’s a fragment of your heart that follows. 

the drive to the practice pitch is nothing but heavy. heavy with your anticipation and stress, you feel your chest constrict and tighten, especially when you pull up into the very empty parking lot. 

“rin!” you shout for the fifth time and only then, does the dark-haired look up at you from where he’s doing dribbling drills. he almost trips over the ball from your interruption. 

“wha- oh,” he turns away just before you can catch the roll of his eyes, the snarl of frustration (one that lovers should never bare at each other). “what do you want?”

you pause a few feet away from him, utterly gobsmacked with the attitude your partner was showing you. after driving all this way, the least you’d want is a little concern, but alas.

“it’s time to go,” you stand your ground. “i’m here to pick you up.”

“yeah, right, i’m not going home.”

“that’s ridiculous! are you not tired?”

“no.”

“rin. c’mon, that’s enough, you need to rest.”

“what the fuck do you know about being enough?” he asks.

the silence is deafening and most hurtful. 

you stammer out the only response you can, “wh-what?”

he doesn’t give you anything. unrelenting, he is. rin has always been the embodiment of stubbornness served cold. not finding much productivity in his silence, you continue speaking with a wavering voice. “let’s go home. please, you shouldn’t be working yourself like this-”

“-leave me the fuck alone!” he finally comes undone. “can’t you see that i don’t have time to deal with headaches like you?”

the thread keeps unravelling.

“fucking lukewarm. i can’t deal with this right now, i don’t need you here.”

“fine,” you murmur. rin has his back turned against you and he prepares himself to kick another ball. “i’ll leave then since you don’t need me.”

when rin arrives home that night, he reasons the unease churning in his stomach on the physical exertion of practice as nothing is out of place. the apartment is as kept and tidy as it typically is, the lights are off because you’ve gone to bed, and there is a meal on the kitchen counter sealed by plastic wrap.

he won’t eat it because he’ll want to throw up otherwise, so rin tucks it neatly into the fridge, not thinking twice about the emptiness on the shelves, right where your favourite drinks are normally kept. 

the athlete washes up quickly and efficiently, a good night’s rest sounding too appealing for his battered body that felt as heavy as lead. 

that night, sleep takes rin and lulls him into a temporary sanctuary, protecting him from the reality that he would wake up to. because when morning comes, he will turn and find that you are not beside him like he expects you to be. your side of the bed is untouched, devoid of any warmth or indicator that you were there.

he checks the bathroom- you’re not there. he calls your name in the hallway- you don’t respond. he scans the kitchen, the study, the living room, and finds nothing but loneliness in each room. there’s no text from you indicating that you were elsewhere.

you’ll return, though. rin’s sure of it.

except you don’t, the hours pass by with rin anticipating your return, and his confidence slowly dwindles with each minute. by the time it’s been 24 hours since he last saw you, his patience runs thin. finding your contact, rin presses the ‘call’ button and is surprised that it does not go through, stopping him after only one ring when an automated voice says ‘this caller is unavailable’. 

the dark-haired stares at your contact in contempt, furrowing his eyebrows when all of his following attempts receive the same treatment, but rin continues stubbornly because you couldn’t have blocked him, right?

was it because of what he said? he didn’t mean it, he didn’t mean to blow up on you like that- how is he supposed to say sorry if he can’t even reach you?

checking his private accounts on various social media, he sees that you’ve blocked him there too. running in to the master bedroom and checking the closet, half of your clothes are missing, and the bag you keep on the shelf is missing too. the bathroom lacks some of your products, your laptop and various chargers are gone from your study space, and the heaviness of your absence hits itoshi rin like a train.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

you never did come around to collect your stuff. rin finds a little bit of pain in that fact.

he feels like a ghost, haunted by the trinkets of you that remain littered around his apartment. he doesn't have the heart to throw them out, not when they're the closest thing to you he can get.

a few times rin sees you in his dreams. a few times he sees you in his nightmares, looking completely hurt and run-down by his recklessness and neglect, but most mornings he wakes up feeling emptier, no one to turn to on your side on the bed. not anymore. there’s no body to hold when he needs it most, there’s no one to keep him company whilst he eats dinner, there’s no love. not since the day you left.

you, on the other hand, find it odd to live life without a second person in the periphery. you thought rin was the one for you, you never had any thoughts about what life could be without him because you were certain that it would be him that you spent the rest of your years with, so learning to accommodate without him is gnawing you away, the little bug of loneliness festing on your newfound independence. 

you’re seated on the floor of your best friend’s living room when reo texts one day, interrupting your apartment hunt.

reo: Are you still coming to my party?

you scrunch your eyebrows at the text, unknowing of where it was coming from.

y/n: not anymore. what’s up?

reo: Why not :( reo: Please it’d be so fun

y/n: don’t you know that rin and i broke up?

reo: Ok but he’s definitely not coming reo: It’s Rin, he doesn’t have a life so you’re fine. Pls say you’ll come

reo: Plus he’s been all mopey ever since so I don’t think he’s in a party mood

you dutifully ignore the last part of reo’s statement. after a little more coaxing, he finally manages to get you to agree to come, but not without a feeling of apprehension settling in your gut. still, it would be a shame to miss out on an invitation from a friend because of it. 

besides, reo’s bargain of offering to buy your outfit was too tempting to let go. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“practice was rough,” bachira murmurs, flopping on the sides of the soccer field with a sigh. his sweat causes his hair and clothes to cling to his skin, and isagi takes a seat on the bench beside his best friend, tossing the dual-tone haired his water bottle.

wiping the sweat off his forehead, isagi agrees with a hum. “i know. i just want to go home.”

“i don’t know how rin does this, staying overtime and all of that.”

“he’s insane. it only got worse after his breakup and everything.”

bachira frowns, looking over to where the dark-haired in question is standing. “i feel bad for rin-rin, seems like he’s not taking it well at all.”

a beat of silence passes before bachira speaks again. “you know y/n’s coming to reo’s party this weekend?” 

the black-haired wipes his mouth before setting the water bottle down. “really?”

“yeah. reo told me.”

“that’s nice, it’s been a while since we’ve seen y/n so it’d be nice to catch up.”

“i wonder if rin knows.”

“i doubt it,” isagi reassures, “he hardly goes to parties like the one reo’s throwing.”

“maybe that’s why y/n agreed in the first place.”

“probably.”

a cold voice suddenly cuts the two from their conversation “y/n’s going to reo’s party?” 

isagi feels his blood cool over before looking up. there, stands itoshi rin, who has a frazzled, yet equally determined look in his eyes, one that isagi has not seen in a while (not since you left). “what? no! where did you hear that from?” 

bachira laughs nervously, “you’re hearing things, rin-rin!

but they are soccer players, not actors or professional liars. “shut the fuck up, asshats. y/n’s going to reo’s party this weekend?”

the two exchange a look and their silence is the only answer rin needs. 

“hold on, you’re not thinking of going, are you?” isagi asks, accepting defeat and now switching tactics.

“why wouldn’t i? my partne-” he pauses. “y/n is gonna be there.”

“yes but-”

“-you can’t stop me from going, so don’t even think about it.”

without another word, rin is gone, stalking away with a scary determination that was previously dormant. 

“what did we just do?” bachira mumbles. “should we tell y/n?” 

“nah.”

“agreed.”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

you should have never come to this party.

how stupid and foolish of you, but how utterly cruel of the universe to let you hurt like this, to let the same pain that has walked all over you for the past few months return; this time ramming into you with the ferocity of a bull, knocking the air out of your lungs

“y/n!” comes the dreaded call of your name. you walk a little faster, breaking into an-almost sprint.

“y/n!” 

“for fucks sake- y/n!” this cry of your name is broken, rasped and pathetic, and your chests clenches from how pained it sounds. like a howl from an injured wolf, it is broken enough for you to pity it, luring you into a trap that will inevitably end in chunks being torn from your heart, but you don’t have much left to spare, so you keep running, no matter how badly you want to give in.

except it’s not enough to deter rin, nothing ever be when there’s a goal in sight, especially one so close that he can taste it.

“y/n, please, i need to talk to-”

“-go away, rin!” you cut him off, hugging yourself tighter to shield yourself against the cold and rin’s pleas from piercing you. 

“not until you listen to me!”

fury powers you, igniting you with the courage to turn around and finally face him. you don’t look him in the eye, keeping your gaze elsewhere, but he shuts up nevertheless, awestruck by finally being able to see you face-to-face after being so long away from you. all words die on his throat, withering away to nothing as his eyes slightly widen in shock.

you’re just as beautiful as the day you left; perhaps even more so.

rin wonders if your radiancy was birthed by his absence, and if the answer is ‘yes’, he might wither away on the spot.

“it’s always about you isn’t it?” you shout. “always about what you want and never about what others want. you said you wanted me to leave, so i did! what more could i possibly give?” 

he gulps, utterly entranced as his heart makes itself known in his chest, racing wildly and vividly; the first indication that it was alive and hadn’t been replaced by a gaping hole in your absence. he hasn’t felt this human since you left. 

“i didn’t mean for you to actually leave,” rin confesses shakily. 

“well, it didn’t seem like you wanted me to stay either.”

“no, that’s not-” he falters. “it’s… not the same without you.”

you hug yourself tighter. “i don’t believe you, you’re just saying that now that there’s nobody to warm your bed.”

“no, it’s not like that- i don’t like living without you,” the athlete continues, admitting something so heavy with such airiness.

“you can’t just say that after so long. not when you’ve been living without me months before we broke up.”

there are a million and one things that rin wants to say to you, but none of them break through the whirlwind that is his thoughts, rattling around in his brain on overdrive and overwhelming him with the intensity of them all. one thing he knows for sure is that you are the single muse behind all of them, the only thing that is keeping him sane amongst the flurry of disturbances.

then, you shiver from the chilly breeze of the night, and the whirlwind is silenced into oblivion to awaken a dormant instinct of his instead. one that commands him to fulfil a duty that he’s not inclined to do anymore.

quickly, rin takes off his jacket and holds it out to you, as if expecting you to take it. 

he drops it when you don’t, hope dwindling in his stomach.

swallowing weakly, he then asks “would you ever give me a second chance?”

“you’ll hurt me again,” you glance away, the street lamps highlighting the melancholy in your profile as rin observes you closely. his eyes outline the curves of your face, each divet and slope that he used to trace with his hands now out of his reach. “you take and you take, but you never give and i’m so tired of it.”

“don’t say that,” he pleads, voice barely louder than a whisper as the dark-haired takes a heavy step towards you. “you’ll break my heart.”

“i shouldn’t love you anymore, you’re bad for me.”

“then i’ll be good- i’ll become whatever you want me to be-”

“-we won’t work like that.”

“we’ll work as long as i’m yours again, just, let me fix us, i’ll do whatever it takes. i’m not giving up like this.” 

the first tear makes herself known and paths the way for your downfall like a tsunami, washing away whatever you had built up during your time away from itoshi rin; the good and the bad. the hurt and the healing, all undone by a singular, stray tear. in your vision, he becomes nothing but a blur, a kaleidoscope of colours that you once loved.

a kaleidoscope of colours that you still love, much to the chagrin of your broken heart. 

a hand wraps around your wrist, a warm shackle that grounds you to rin like he’s your lifeline. no matter how bad you want to push him away, something in you will always bend to him. 

“don’t cry,” he pleads, voice airy and breathy. “i’m sorry, please don’t cry.”

please don’t cry because of me.

“i don’t want to be with you if it means i need to go through all of that again.” you whisper, slipping out of his grasp like sand and wiping away your own tears, rejecting his callous and prickly touch. 

rin’s world dims as panic seizes his throat. “please don’t say that, you don’t mean it.”

“i do though. you left me first, don’t you know?” 

“-i do.”

“and now i’m not yours to care about anymore-”

“i know, i know,” words are merely spilling out of his mouth without much purpose at this point, because he’ll do anything just to delay you leaving, to push back the possibility of you turning around and never seeing you again. why did he have to break who he loved so much? 

still, he pleads for another chance, desperation shining in his eyes as pure longing fills him. you have always been too good to him, he knows, but like the tumultuous tides and their inability to stray too far from the shore, rin will come back to you with his undying devotion. 

even if he thinks you should find someone better than him, that you should be adored by someone who could love you so much better, he can’t let go. to let you go is to let go the one good thing that came to him in life, 

you exhale shakily. “we’ve loved each other for too long.” 

“what do you mean?” he stutters, eyes widening helplessly. 

“i have loved you too much for too long, rin,” you choke, “there has to be an end to us somewhere in sight- you need to accept that.”

“no,” his look of absolute devastation causes a physical recoil in your stomach. “no- not long enough, it’ll never be enough, fuck- even forever won’t be long enough, i can’t let you go like that.”

he crosses the distance between you in the blink of an eye. you can’t see him clearly under the dim light of the night, but you can feel him, so close and so overwhelming, but so cold as his hands come to grasp yours. his grip is firm, not enough to hurt, but enough for you to feel his determination. 

tears dance along his lashline. 

“please, tell me you’re still mine,” begs the dark-haired. rin’s tears are diamonds, in which they are precious, but they also crumble into a precious waterfall that rolls down his cheeks, tempting you towards his beautiful ruination. 

words continue to tumble out of him, each one sharpened to pierce your defences. “tell me that we’ll be fine, that i’m all you want, please. i’m so fucking sorry for hurting you, but please don’t leave me. 

i’ll fix us, i’ll become everything you need, i’ll be good.”

the dark-haired’s hands find their way to your face, cupping each side of your jaw with a scary gentleness; one that you’d never expect from someone as ragged as itoshi rin. 

“i love you,” he declares, so raw, so full of passion that it makes you sick. the rin you know never lets his heart on his sleeve like this. 

you cave. “how will you fix us?” 

slowly. he’ll rebuild everything that you have given him.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

first, rin takes you out on dates again. calls you beautiful and really means it.

second, rin leaves practice at regular times, and listens when you tell him that he needs to take care of himself. because for you, he will. 

third, rin picks you up from work. his practice ends a little earlier than your job, so he always goes the extra mile to be there for you at the end of the day. even if you tell him that he doesn’t need to go out of his way to do so, he’d rather see you get home safe than only receiving a mere text of confirmation. 

plus, it gives rin more time with you.

fourth, rin sends you regular gifts. from bouquets, to random items that he just knows you’d like, they all get left at your door at the best times. 

fifth, rin lets you set the pace. you wanted things to go slow so that you two didn’t have to force anything back in place. no point recreating something that’s in the past, you reasoned, so might as well try again.

sixth, rin takes his time in welcoming you back into his space. it’s a few months after you two have reconciled, and majority of your items are back where they belong (you poked fun at him for not being able to throw away the stuff you did leave, and he just mumbled something indecipherable, all embarrassed, before moving on). the life has been restored in his apartment, now filled with more remnants of you loitering around his space: your various chargers and laptop, your products, your clothes, they all sit beside his things like that’s where they are meant to be.

and you are back in his arms, because it is where you are meant to be (more for his sake than yours).

rin stirs awake one morning under the gentle light of the morning sun and you’re there beside him, occupying the space that he has left devastatingly empty. mattress still curved to your frame as he never dared infiltrate it, in hopes that you would return.

now that you have, you feel too warm, too familiar, too unreal that he wonders if you’re just another dream of his. 

then, you stir, and press yourself closer against his chest, face to face with the heart that only beats for you.

a stray tear rolls down rin’s face; a salvation for the utter relief he feels, as well as the overwhelming amount of adoration that he stores for you. his ‘i love you’ is sweeter than the chirping of the birds outside, and certainly more meaningful as he wraps more of himself around your sleeping figure, hoping to attach all of him to all of you. 

you’re home. he won’t let you leave again.

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[lidiasloca]

Ok this one of my ideas not sure if I have actually read it before or if it was a fever dream. Az has a girlfriend/ mate that the inner circle hasn’t met before.she works with marja as a high and has maybe other powers I don’t know. I have 2x options in which to take this idea. 1. Azzy gets very hurt on a mission and his brought to you to fix him. Very emotional IC and reader. They save him blah blah. 2. Some of the healers are working on so far out town. Az was cutie and like don’t go. She was like boo you go all the time I going to help people. Love you be back soon. But while they are there they are kidnapped by someone ( you pick). Word gets back to Marja who tells Rhys and Az happens to be there. Az freaks out when he hears our name on the list of miss. Blah blah.

totally cool if you don’t wanna use. It is just an idea.

azriel being worried about you going on a mission

azriel x reader

fulff

a/n: i ain't really not for angst these days, so i only took the beginning of your second idea, hope u dont mind :)

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄☆

“You will not go,” Azriel sates, and his voice is so commanding and serious you stop in your tracks. 

“Azriel, we’ve been through this. I’m a healer. This is my job.”

“No, your job is to heal people being safe,” he explains as if you were stupid. You know he means well, but you are growing more irritated by the moment. “Your job is not putting your life in danger.”

“Well, saving lives in the middle of a war comes obviously with my life being in danger.”

Giving him your back, you continue packing all you need for the journey. You hear his footsteps getting closer, then his hand is on your back, gently stroking. “Y/N. Please,” and it sounds enough of a plea for you to turn and face him. 

“Azriel, you constantly put yourself in danger. Almost everyday I have to see you leave to work, with no assurance you will come back.”

His eyes drop to his feet in defeat. “I know, and I know it’s not fair for me to ask you this. But - I simply don’t care.” He watches you again, a spark of confidence and hope settles in his eyes. “I cannot risk loosing you, and the risk of loosing you is higher than yours is to lose me on a mission.” When he catches your frown, he adds, “You must give me this; I know how to defend myself better than you in the battlefield.”

You let out a soft chuckle, the seriousness of before fading a bit as a timid smile blooms on his face.

But your mind is made up. “Azriel,” you sigh. “I must go still.”

His lips close to a thin line, worry back in his face. He takes your hands in his scarred ones. You are to hear his angry pleads again, but to your surprise, he simple answers, “Alright.”

You open your eyes wide in astonishment. “Alright?”

Your mate grins before adding, “Alright.” And that grin means two things. Trouble, or planed trouble. 

“What is your mind up to, Az?” you ask accusingly, as if he was no more than a kid planing mischief. 

His grin grows more teasing. “Nothing, nothing,” he says as he turns to your travel trunk, putting things. His things. “It’s just that I'm going with you.”

“What?”

“What?” he says, totally unfazed by the situation. “You need protection. I want to know you are safe. You are no good with a sword, yet excellent healing people. I’m quite good with a sword. I think it’s a perfect plan.”

“You miss that Rhys has assigned you a mission in the Spring Court. Tomorrow.”

He looks at you, looking at you as if what you’ve said it’s dumb. “I don’t remember that.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Love,” he says, and his voice is serious again. “Please. I beg you, don’t make me suffer like this. Let me accompany you. I will talk to Rhys and he will understand. He knows how terrible it is to know your mate is in danger, no mater how strong or brave she is. And you are, but I am not strong enough to spend every second of the following days not knowing if you are safe.”

You sigh, now you are defeated. “Alright.” He smiles triumphantly, so you are quickly to add sternly, “But no scaring anyone that comes near me, understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” and he has that teasing smirk on his face again. 

-Characters by Sarah J Maas

HEY! IF YOU LIKED THIS, YOU CAN CHECK OUT MY AZRIEL MASTERLIST HERE <3

and you can also request any fic idea you have through my inbox so i can write it down :)) i much appreciate requests for azriel and other acotar characters

[alltoowelltom]

What about fluffy morning routines with Oscar, like being all domestic and cute together!

thank you for requesting x

The third time the alarm goes off you've had enough.

Oscar is the sweetest boyfriend with almost no obnoxious habits - almost. The one quirk of his you absolutely cannot stand? The sheer number of times he will snooze his alarm in the morning and fall back to sleep.

'Why don't you just set it for later?' you've asked him countless times before. He always answered with a shrug, 'No, tomorrow I am going to get up first time it rings.'

"Oz." you hum sleepily, one arm coming up to push gently on his back. "Turn it off."

He makes a sound of acknowledgement, reaching over to his nightstand to grab his phone and switch off the sound.

"Sorry, love." he says, rolling over so he's laying on his side to face you, dropping his phone in the sheets. He pulls you closer, resting his chin on the top of your head. He wouldn't admit it, but this moment right here is always his favorite part of the day. Just the two of you basking in each other's presence before the day begins.

"You're gonna fall asleep again." you say, prodding his chest gently.

Oscar grumbles into your hair, hand swatting around the sheets blindly for his phone. You pick it up, placing it in his hand. Both of you wince at the harsh light in the darkened room and he turns it off again as soon as he's seen the time.

"Shit, I'm late for training."

"Yeah, wonder how that happened?" you sass back, kissing his chest.

"D'you want to come with?" He asks, tracing the freckles on your arm. You shiver at the feeling of his nails that are slightly too long again, knowing you'll need to nag him about cutting them this afternoon.

"No," you giggle. "I'm gonna stay here and go back to sleep until you're back."

"Lucky thing," Oscar sighs, sitting up in bed. "I love you." He presses a kiss to your head as you repeat his words back.

Oscar's quiet as he gets dressed and brushes his teeth, clearly making an effort not to disrupt your sleep any more than he already has. You think he's left and let yourself drift back to sleep until you hear his trainers scuffing the hallway floor and he pops back into the bedroom.

"One last kiss." He giggles cheekily, giving you two on your cheek and picking up his phone from where it laid next to his pillow. You smile softly, in-and-out of sleep but you manage to squeeze his hand and hope that says enough.

By the time Oscar comes back from training you've gotten out of bed and showered.

"Awh, what?" Oscar pouts. "At least come sit with me while I get ready?"

With anyone else, you'd scoff at their clinginess but you can't help but melt at him. It had taken Oscar a little while to open up to you and become truly comfortable when you'd begun dating. He could be a little shy and tried to ensure he was independent and not needy at first, worried about scaring you off. Now, you sit on the bathroom counter, putting on some light makeup while he showers and tells you about his current training routine.

"Oh, and I got you one of those apple danishes on my way back," he calls out from behind the glass. "It's just in the kitchen."

"Hmm," you chuckle at his sweetness. "A pastry from Pastry."

When Oscar's out the shower and dressed you hand him your necklace silently and he positions himself behind you, carefully doing up the clasp the way he did every morning you were together - to the point where you'd begun to struggle latching the chain together on your own, having to twist it to the front so you could see what you were doing.

"All good?" He asks, trying to smooth your hair back into place.

"Yeah, thank you honey." you say, giving him a smile in the mirror. He returns it with a big Oscar-smile, the one with lots of teeth and crinkles by his eyes.

"Help me make the bed?" you ask, knowing Oscar would leave it a mess if you didn't remind him.

"We're just gonna get into it again tonight and make it messy again," he'd tried to reason in the past. "Why wouldn't we just save the effort and leave it?"

You each take a side of the duvet, pulling it up and fluffing the pillows, Oscar following your lead on the correct technique.

"If you bought less pillows, this would be so much quicker." He grumbles with a grin, tossing one of the many throw pillows at you gently. "I'm your pillow anyway, you don't use one of these."

"It's to make the room look pretty." you roll your eyes. Boys.

"The room already looks the prettiest, because you're in it." Oscar says sweetly, crawling over the bed and reaching out to you. Your heart swells at his (cheesy) words and you let him pull you down onto the bed.

"Let's nap for a bit, yeah?" He says softly, nuzzling into your neck. "See if you're a good pillow too."

thank you for reading x

[k2ntoss]

this is from @millyhelp 's ask from the prompts thingy so babe, i hope you enjoy this!!! PLUS THIS IS QUALITY OVER ANYTHING ELSE, i should be asleep by now bc i have to take a flight tomorrow at 6am buuuuut here we are :3

milly when i catch you milly (i have been thinking about THIS since i read your request and i'm literally vibrating here in a level i cannot describe) i just i don't know what i'm doing but i hope you know i'm here sitting while thinking about jason AT WORK

when they murmur pure filth into your ear while they're touching you + smirking into a kiss/against your skin when you whimper at their touch + "you're in no position to tease baby, remember that."

jason can say he hates attending bruce's galas, they're boring and full of people he dislikes but having you as his partner makes it worth the time he spends there. the way he's able to admire you in those pretty long night dresses, your make up and hair done in a way you'd only look prettier to his eyes, it was definetely his favorite part of being out in a night he rather spend at home cuddling with you.

but what jason hates more of bruce's galas is the fact that he isn't able to be too touchy with you when you're by his side and yeah, he also hates the way you take advantage of that because such a loving girlfriend would enjoy the art of torture by teasing him all night long. he stares as you stand right next to him, your hand holding his arm as he speaks to someone and you stroke his forearm without paying much mind to anything else, jason feels your touch a bit more than what he should and it only drives him insane when it comes together with the way you stare up at him as he speaks, if only he could push you to your knees and get you to look up at him while you gag around his cock...

"sweetheart, i'm gonna go get a drink, i'll be right back" you say with a small smile, your hand suddenly bringing him back from his thoughts when you subtly graze his chest with your fingertips, making a soft trail to his stomach and he only nods, his lips parted and his mind running wild once again.

you make your way to the expensive bar, thinking about any tasty drink that will help you feel more comfortable around all the rich and empty individuals around the room so as soon as you're able to ask for a drink the bartender gives you what could have been seen as a gentle smile but truth be told, jason knew better and yeah, he was looking from where you left him because there's no way he'd let his girlfriend all alone and unprotected.

he's able to see the man hand you a glass filled with clear liquor and he holds himself to interrupt you or to make you uncomfortable, he knows you don't try to make any deep conversation with that guy but he, on the other hand leans against the bar and talks to you with a wide grin almost as if he thought he made a great and succesful attempt on getting your attention and that's enough to make him smirk proudly, jason knows he's the only one that knows how to get your attention in a way you do enjoy it.

what's unexpected for him comes right after you notice his eyes on your back and look at him from over your shoulder, giving him a soft smile before turning back to actually chuckle to something that guy was telling you and now, that's weird because he swears that right before you looked back at him you seemed to be really bored about anything you were hearing. jason is able to see, still from across the room how you sit on one of those high stools, the slit of your dress letting your thigh a little more exposed than before and the way you lean forward allows you to be a bit closer to a man that wasn't him.

he has no idea where he should look, your waist seems to call him just so he can place his hand over it and squeeze it in a possessive way, your legs look lile he could make them wrap around his hips as he pounds into you and he has no idea what's gotten into him, it's a mix of jealousy because someone else has your attention and the way your body looks so good it makes jason want to devour you whole.

his need grows worse when you switch from the short vodka and sprite glass to a tall one with whisky and the way you mindlessly stroke the side of it with your fingertips has him almost growling and he decides it's been already enough when the bartender reaches to the pocket of his black blazer and slides his phone over the bar, clearly jason doesn't know that you're just about to type in the phone number of one of your friends that needed a bartender for the new bar he wanted to open and he clearly wasn't even thinking about it, instead he just allowed himself to walk his way until he reached your side, leaning in and pressing a lingering kiss to your shoulder when he stood next to you "thought you were going to come back, princess" he says and there's a ever so slight tint of jealousy on his words.

"oh yeah, i got a little distracted here" you start before taking a short sip from your glass just to offer him an innocent smile "do you remember that bar a friend of mine wanted to open? i was telling him they wanted a bartender and i was about to give him leo's number" and he nodded, the bartender suddenly not looking so flirty with you when your big ass boyfriend was looking at him as if he was about to rip his head off his shoulders.

"yeah? think i have his card so no need to bother," jason tells you, his hand going into his pocket to reach for the nice wallet he used to keep cards and some other important stuff, taking out what he wanted and sliding the card across the bar "here. give them a call but i think they already found someone." he says with a subtle scowl before looking back at you. and as soon as his eyes met yours realization fell upon your boyfriend, that glint of pure mischief and joyful mockery was all he needed to know that this was just another part of your tease game.

"think we can talk somewhere else, baby?" he asks as he leans in to whisper into your ear "don't you think i don't know what you're doing, love." then jason mutters before leaving a soft kiss on your temple as his hand snakes over your side to hold your waist and pull you out of the stool just to walk you out of the room filled with people. it was a short walk across a few hallways before he opened a door that led to a bathroom, the marble counter and the tall roof another proof of how expensive the place was but you had not so much time to actually take in every other detail of the nice bathroom because you felt now both of jason's hands holding your hips and walking you until you were in front of the mirror.

"jay? what's that you need to tell me?" you ask him in a soft tone, sounding innocent as your boyfriend towered over you, his hands now resting on your hips as he looked at you through your reflection.

"how do you manage to look so heavenly, ma?" he sounds really sweet, unbothered as if your efforts weren't enough to make him act feral and that was strange to say the least "this is a good thing about this stupid events, being able to admire my girl looking so good." and still there's still a slight tint of possessiveness slipping into his words

"i don't know what you're talking about, baby" you'd answer, cheeks red and a sweet giggle escaping your lips as your own hands rest over his and anyone could see and say that this was just another wholesome moment between a young couple in love but jason had other plans in mind "but i think we're missing the whole thing"

your word fall on deaf ears when his hands start to stroke your hips, the silky and thin fabric allows jason to feel your bare skin right under your dress and it draws a deep hum out of his throat at the same time he leans to kiss that spot between your shoulder and neck "you know what i don't like about this galas? the fact that every other idiot is able to see my girl looking so damn good and what's worse, is that some of them think they have a chance with you."

his hands lower until you feel how the fabric slides upwards, causing you to shiver when jason's fingers caress your thigh under the slit of the dress while he keeps his gaze on yours through the mirror. he loves the way you look with him, how your body reacts to his every touch and yeah, anyone could say that jason todd is a bit possessive but you wouldn't blame him. the possessiveness on his touch came alomg with pure need, not only lust or dominance but with extreme adoration because you were the most precious thing on his life and he wasn't up to let go of you. not now, not ever.

"i don't know what you're talking about..." this time there's a small grin pulling at the edges of your lips, you do know what he's talking about and honestly, you adore when he wants to claim your attention from himself "but i was having a nice time chatting with my new friend" that part sets off a new jolt of jealousy and also it breaks the already thin string of patience jason has when it comes to your teasing.

"a nice time... were you? i think that you know exactly what i'm talking about, angel," jason utters right as his lips brush against the skin of your neck, he presses a lingering and firm kiss before his hand squeezes your thigh "all that mischief in your pretty eyes, the way you walk making your dress move in a way it only hugs your curves, do you think i can't see it?"

the way his voice grows deeper indicates what he has in mind and that's what you've been trying to get by touching him and putting a subtle show just for your boyfriend to grow insane with need. his gaze parts from your eyes to follow the path his own hands make as he starts to pull up the fabric of your dress, lips making a trail of short kisses that make you close your eyes and let your head drop to give him more room.

"you love attention, that much i can tell," he murmurs into your ear and as soon as he sees how you try to reach for him he shakes his head "no. hands on the counter and keep them there, be a good girl and do as you're told." he says, the comand on his tone sets you in automatic, pressing your hands against the black marble and seeing you being so obedient makes jason grin wickedly.

he had you right where he wanted you.

there's a low and rumbling chuckle that escapes him as soon as he is able to touch your bare hip, feeling proud of the fact that he knew you wouldn't be wearing any underwear with the silky dress that you were using. he loves that, being able to slide his hands under your clothes to touch you and feel you shiver before you start to grind against his fingers without a second thought. the feeling of knowing how much you wanted him and how good he was able to make you feel, it was only him that could do so.

"what a pretty surprise," jason says, one of his hands holding part of your dress up over your waist as the other one went to grip at your ass before letting a harsh slap fall over it that drags a soft yelp out of you "aren't you such a good girl? wearing anything underneath your dress to allow me to have easy access to this pretty pussy of yours" he says in a deep tone as his hand moves again, this time running over your inner thigh to squeeze it.

"jay... anyone could come in..." your words are soft, almost a whisper as jason's hand makes its way a bit further until he's able to graze your clit with his fingertips, making you press your lips in a fine line to hold back the soft moan that forms on your throat as you try to wiggle your hips to get a little more of his touch.

"no one is gonna come in, ma" he whispers into your ear, his arm now around your waist to hold the fabric in place as well as to prevent you from moving "now be a good little doll and spread your legs for me." jason says right before he bites your earlobe softly.

and you do as he says, allowing him to slip his fingers over your cunt in a slow and torturing pace, you can feel the rough skin and the way he seems to know exactly how to touch you to get you wet without doing so much. he keeps that touch, fingers teasingly tapping on your slit before he playfully spreads your lips as he kisses your shoulder with a shit eating smirk whenever you whimper and try to buck your hips to get him to touch you more.

"you don't like it when i tease you like this, baby? you seemed to be having so much fun when you were doing the same to me," he almost grunts as his hand pulls away from you, the pout on your lips and how you seem to wanna cry makes him laugh "you had no trouble to look up at me with those pretty 'fuck me' eyes you use when you're choking on my cock like a little whore."

he needs no other thing really to make you moan, jason knows what to do to get you going and he loves to start by teasing you. leaning in to whisper his every word to your ears and calling you all sort of names, his hands holding your body as he presses himself against your ass, letting you feel his hard cock though the fabric of his dressing pants.

"i wasn't doing that!" you protest, lying to him right to his face just to get what you wanted. pushing his buttons and jason would be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying this little game.

"oh weren't you now? you know damn well you were teasing me, since we arrived you can't stop swaying your pretty ass to make me drag you away just so i can pin you down to fuck you." he says, the same low tone as he talks and his hand moves, going up and hovering over your chest and throat until he reaches your face to hold your cheeks briefly, then letting go to slip his thumb between your lips "such a needy little thing, begging to be used without an ounce of shame like the slut she is"

a muffled moan escapes you, eyes closed shut when jason pushes his digit against your tongue and moves it back and forth as you suck it obediently but he stops and pulls away when he feels you rock your hips against him, your ass rubbing his bulge and making him groan right about to give up the small punishment just to bury himself deep inside you.

"stop moving. you're in no position to tease baby, remember that." jason says, this time his voice sounds a little more stern and his gaze is fixed back on yours "you want it so bad, don't you? want me to use you right here like a little toy for me to abuse whenever and wherever i want."

his hand goes back to your thighs, this time he holds one and squeezes it in a motion that made you lift your leg, allowing jason to make you bend it and hold yourself with your knee pressed to the counter. keeping you spread like that for him he lets a playful pat fall right between your legs, causing you to whimper in need, wanting to grind on his dick until he couldn't resist the urge to actually fuck your needy hole.

"c'mon... i really need you, jay" you moan as soon as his fingers stroke again your cunt, slipping between your folds he smirks when your slick covers his digits creating soft wet sounds as he traces circles on your clit before doing the same around your entrance "need you to fuck me, please, ruin me."

"don't think you deserve so, baby," he coos you mockingly, his middle finger pushing teasingly against you but not sliding in to allow to feel him into you "why don't you pull your dress down, mhm? let me see those pretty tits of yours, put on a show for me."

it makes you shiver, the idea of exposing yourself for him as he's practically punishing you is something new because jason has never asked you to do so while keeping your clothes on, lets not say in a public space but it was a turn on when he looked down at you with predatory eyes as you spilled your breasts out of your dress, the thin straps now hanging loose on your arms as he pressed his chest to your back and made a thrusting motion against your ass.

"the things you'd do for me to stretch your pussy, to be fucked dumb until you are nothing but a cock-drunk slut" he growls against your ear and the whiny moan you let out makes him grin widely as he kisses and nibbles at the nape of your neck "here, hold your dress for me, sweetheart"

and he nods when your hands hold now your dress, his hands guiding you to make you bend slightly. jason looks hungrily at your exposed body, the way you look so vulnerable when he took advantage of it made it so hard to resist his urges but he knew that as soon as you both arrived home he'd be able to fuck you into a mindless puddle.

"you adore doing this, don't ya, ma?" he asks, one of his hands slides down your back. caressing your spine and to your ass until he reaches your core, a sharp slap falls right there and the whine you let out only fuels jason "teasing me just so you can get attention, you love to get me jealous just for me to end up letting you know how i'm the only one that will make you feel so good"

his fingers are stroking you again but this time he isn't as delicate or slow as before, his hand grinds against your cunt and he pinches your clit a few times to make you moan even louder. the wet sounds his palm makes while he plays with your slick are only hushed by your whimpers, his other hand now groping your breasts.

"it's adorable how you try to get me to use you just to be edged, to be teased like every dirty slut deserves" jason growls behind your ear and this time he pushes two fingers inside you, moving them at a fast pace without really paying mind to the way your legs tremble because he is also teasing your nipples "all of this effort just to get your pussy played with, not even getting to feel my cock inside your greedy cunt."

"jay please... don't do this to me" you cry, the torture continues because jason touches your sweet spot a few times by curling his fingers but stops when you clench around him, trying to move and fuck yourself with his fingers but the gaze he gives you is enough to stop it.

"i'm sorry, princess, that's all you'll get now" jason whispers, a satisfied smirk and a kiss on your temple as he takes his fingers out of you before stepping back "you should fix your dress again, baby, you can't go out with it all pulled up."

that's what you got, jason is now looking at your reflex as he leans back against a wall and he licks his fingers clean before giving you a lovely smile.

maybe, just maybe, you were in no position to tease after all.

[loveyourlovelysoul]

Choose a number 1-30 and read a sentence for you in time of needs. You can ofc read them all.

1- You're braver than you think. You can get through this too. Just take a breath and then start again. Do not give up.

2- You're not alone even if at times it feels so. Don't worry about being a burden or annoying others: ask for help, talk about your needs and feelings. You don't have to deal with all that by yourself. Keep asking even after being rejected. Someone will answer you.

3- Look inside and see your real worth. No one else can compare to you. You're you, and you're enough and deserving already as you are. Don't let others' harsh judgement make you think otherwise.

4- Life is made of light and dark and so are you. Find your balance again among the two and keep going. It'll be fine, no feeling is going to last forever.

5- Things look scarier and rockier cause they're changing (you're changing too). It's okay to feel uncomfortable and a bit loss or overwhelmed: give yourself time until you find a new balance in your new reality. It won't be bad, I promise.

6- Go slow, take your time. Nothing and nobody is rushing behind you. It's okay to take breaks, it's okay if you're taking a bit more time than you thought in doing something. Focus on the journey not on how much time you're using or thinking you're wasting. You're not wasting time when you use it for yourself. But worrying will make you lose a part of it and hurt you even more.

7- Try to believe that things can change. Be open to them, even if you cannot control this process and see how it is gonna be, chances are it will be great. Trust yourself too (not your fears though, separate from them).

8- You're on the road of success, whether you see it or not. Keep learning, keep welcoming (your feelings in particular): the more grounded and stable you will be able to be, the more opportunities you'll be able to see and make yours.

9- Always be kind and compassionate with yourself: the mistakes you made today won't ever be the mistakes of tomorrow. Making mistakes is a way of learning, not a confirmation of you not being enough. Nobody ever has made no mistakes while trying or becoming better at something. Be patient and give yourself another chance (and even more).

10- Remember the last decision in your life is always up to you: you're the protagonist of your life, don't let it pass you by. Even if at the moment you cannot see a way out, it will come to you. Keep staying hopeful. Keep focusing on what you can actually control, be it even just your feelings.

11- You're not responsible for anyone's feelings or emotions. Remember you cannot control how they react to you or anything really, and you don't have to necessarily make everything better for others. Respect yourself too.

12- Be confident in your abilities and knowledge. Do not second guess yourself cause you were somehow taught you're not good enough: you are. And you can be wrong here and there too and it won't change your worth ever. Trust yourself whether you're right or wrong and soon you'll be just right.

13- Remember that as you give, you also need to receive from others as much. Stay open to that. You don't have to just empty yourself in order to get crumbles or the bear minimum: that's not what healthy relationships are about.

14- Set your boundaries and stand up for yourself. You're not being selfish for this, as you're not imposing on or taking advantages of others. You're just putting yourself on the same page as them, you need as much respect and love as them.

15- Take care of you: stay hydrated, make your bed, take a shower, go for a walk, enjoy a nice book or video or movie, sing, dance, paint... prepare yourself a nice cup of tea and treat yourself with a little gift here and there. You deserve all this, especially when things get rocky and too much to bear with. Celebrate your little successes too.

16- Surround yourself with the right people for you. If you cannot get away from some negative people, try at least to build boundaries and find other people with whom you can share nice moments of peace and growth, and that can get your feelings too. It's important to communicate with people that can understand us.

17- If you feel alone, try to go out and go visit place where you may find like-minded people. Join a volunteering association, go to a movie teather, a park or a library, or start a course of something you're passionate about. Sometimes we need to be the one creating opportunities to ourselves instead of waiting for others to approach us first.

18- It's okay to feel lost while trying to figure out what to do or where to go. Take a breath when this happens and focus on just doing things you like. The more you'll get to know yourself and work on something you enjoy, the faster you'll get to understand more about the next steps to take. Ask to someone trusted for their advice as well: many times people around us can see us better than what we do. Just remember that not everyone can really do that anyway so trust yourself first.

19- You don't have to work on your fears anytime you get triggered or feel overwhelmed. Take a break, focus on something else and come back to it another day. Taking breaks is part of the healing process as much as working with your shadows and triggers, so take time to enjoy your present life away from that too.

20- Help yourself liberating from the excess of energy, caused by anxiety and overthinking, that you may have stored in your body. Move your body: walk, dance, do yoga or any little light exercise (as much as you body allows). Go back to yourself, get in touch with your body and release what is not serving you anymore.

21- Journaling can help you wording and throwing out your confused thoughts, in order to clear them from the inside. You don't have to write them reasonably, this will come later: just focus on freeing yourself first and foremost. At times we just need to pour emotions/events out to process them.

22- Trauma may have caused you to detach from yourself, so take time know yourself again. Know your values and what you can compromise on and why. List things you like and dislike, what you think are your strengths and what may be your flaws (be objective here, don't let others or your wounds decide for you) and so on... you make the rules. Making lists of pros and cons for something may also be useful.

23- As we never stop learning, we never stop making mistakes and growing. Share everything you got around you, keep welcoming and understanding yourself and the world around you. Keep spreading your talents: yes you do have talents, and no they're not negative ones. Allow yourself to try anything you want: who cares if others do it too? They are not doing it better than you, they're doing it differently. See yourself where you can get just by trying with no pressure.

24- You can also try something new and different from what you're used: getting out of your comfort zone can be very inspiring both for your creativity, your mind and your life in general (and in knowing yourself). Share your finds, share your passions. Don't be shy.

25- Having being judged so harshly during your life has probably made you more insecure and willing to close off from the world: please try and allow yourself to see that even if it hurt you so much, it wasn't on you. You weren't the real object of those judgement. It is always all in the head of the person judging, it's never on the object. Be nicer with you, you're worth much more than that.

26- What is really stopping you from trying what you have in mind? Fear of making or not making? Either way, take your fear by the hand and take it to see how is it gonna be for real. Our minds want to keep us safe and try to make things look worse than they actually are just cause they want to keep us in a known zone. But what if that's not where we're supposed to stay? Or where we want to stay?

27- Don't fear: you won't be let down forever nor you won't be alone forever. Your people are coming, try to get ready to meet them and let them in. You're not made for everyone and, if your past has been tough, you may fear not being good enough for the relationship (any type) of your dreams, but you are. And you'll have the chance to build it the moment you'll be ready for it.

28- You may not trust others much out of past hurt, but the fact is that it's never your fault what others do with your trust. You don't have to feel guilty or any less cause you trusted the wrong people. It wasn't your fault.

29- Take your time when you need to bring yourself closure about an event or a relationship. Go slow and try to welcome and nurture each of your emotions and feelings, of whatever type they may be. Ask for support, talk about how you really feel, write, and slowly go back to your passion. Act according on what you feel like doing. Do not make sudden decisions and also, take time to grieve and cry. Grieving is complex, you'll experience ups and downs: it's okay, give yourself time and space to deal with all that at your own pace and conditions.

30- Healing is not about not being triggered anymore and feeling like nothing can scare you: healing is about learning how to recognize your triggers before they hurt you and taking action so that these emotions won't overcome you as they did. It's about learning to not let your fears decide your actions, but taking actions even if not knowing the results feels really uncomfortable and scary. It's about learning to be in discomfort and not letting this ruin your whole life.

---

I hope these short texts can help you in your journey. I hope you take care of your whole being even if you don't really love yourself. I hope you can see yourself as someone you may end up liking after chatting a bit or as someone in need and that you may want to support. Start with that. And be open to see your good sides too, cause you have plenty even on your darkest days (they never disappear).

[judyvan]

Keep It Down (The Movie Night) - Matt Sturniolo Fanfic

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The Movie Night

Summary: You desperately want Matt, but his brothers are in the house. Will you be able to contain yourself to avoid the awkwardness?

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: This is my first fanfic. Interactions are appreciated. This story has multiple parts, this is the first one. Please don't steal my shit. Thanks!💋

To read the second part click here.

To read the last part (The Morning After) click here.

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"WHATTT WAS THAT?!?" Nick exclaims as the little boy in the center of the screen is swept away by a big monster.

      After a long day of hanging out with your boyfriend and his brothers, you're watching A Quiet Place back at their house. Matt Sturniolo, your long time boyfriend, saw the movie on Netflix and suggested that you guys watch it. His brothers, Nick and Chris, asked if they could join in.

"Okay. That's enough of this. I don't want to watch this stupid movie anymore," Chris says. "I cannot sit here and watch this movie if they aren't going to talk. It makes no sense. It's just dumb."

"Well, maybe Chris if you would just SHUT THE FUCK UP and watch the movie you would actually know what's going on!" Nick shouts back.

"No forget this. I'm just going to go to bed."

"Motherfucker you are not going to go lay down in my room without me in there," Nick says back.

"Looks like you'll be accompanying me then. Huh?"

"I guess I'll just finish the movie with you guys tomorrow, unless you plan on watching the rest of it tonight," Nick says, following Chris towards his room, looking back at you and Matt.

     Chris typically decides to sleep in his brothers' rooms. He picks a different sibling depending on his mood that day. Whenever you're over, he sleeps with Nick.

"We are going to keep watching the movie, but we will probably just go to my room," Matt starts. "I don't know if we will finish it or not though. I am kind of tired."

"Okay, you two," Nick starts with a smirk, "Goodnight, sleep tight, and don't let the bed bugs bite." He waves at you and Matt, fluttering his fingers and batting his eyes in a sarcastically flirty manner.

"Goodnight you guys," Chris says, mocking Nick's movements.

     You hear the pair bickering as they walk towards Nick's room, shoving each other back and forth.

     "Do you want to go to my room to finish watching the movie or should we stay here on the couch and watch it?" Matt asks.

      You can see the drowsiness in his eyes as he looks at you. It was pretty late at night and you were starting to feel tired too.

     "Let's just go to your room and watch it so we can lay down. I'm about ready for bed too." A giggle follows your response slightly before it is taken over by a big yawn.

      When you open your eyes, you see that your yawn spread to Matt. He now has his eyes closed, his mouth opens wide, and his head tilts back as he inhales deeply. As soon as his eyes open, they make direct contact with yours. The two of you laugh softly. Matt then picks up the remote and turns off the T.V. 

      He then begins to walk towards the kitchen, carrying the snacks that the four of you were eating in hopes of having a successful movie night. Obviously, that idea ended almost as soon as it started. As Matt begins to throw away things that are not able to be kept and putting the things that can be saved back in their place, you make your way over to the fridge.

     "Do you want me to grab you something to drink?" you say, pulling out a water bottle for yourself.

     "No I'm fine. Can I just share with you?"

     "Obviously not," you say sarcastically.

     The two of you leave the kitchen. Matt leads and you follow as he turns off the remaining lights in the house that don't stay on overnight. As you guys walk towards his room, you hear a lot of noise coming from Nick's room. Matt gives you a playful look and walks towards Nick's door. Without knocking, Matt barges in while you observe from the doorway. Nick and Chris are making TikTok dance videos.

     "You two don't look like you're very ready for bed," Matt says laughing.

     "Oh, shut up Matt," Nick says walking up to him and pushing him out of the door. "You messed us up."

     "Yeah, Matt. Shouldn't you be kissing your girlfriend or something?" Chris says sticking his tongue out as Nick shuts the door.

     "Fuck you guys," Matt yells back at the closed door, laughing.

     The two of you go into Matt's room and start to get ready for bed.

[froggiewrites]

Possession

Pairing: Doflamingo x Reader

NSFW

Summary: Doflamingo wants you, and he has always been good at getting what he wants. Warnings: Smut, Possessiveness, Manipulation, Yandere (i think this counts?) Word Count: 1.8k Notes: This is pretty different in vibes from everything else I've posted here, but Doffy has bewitched me a little bit. I was trying to finish Dressrosa before writing about him but I just had to get this one out. Crossposted from Ao3

Doflamingo did not know exactly when you caught his eye.

It was small, at first, the instinct to seek you out. He didn’t indulge in it. He had far more important things to worry about. But as time went on, as you appeared again and again, he found himself more and more determined to have you.

You were a sweet thing, innocent and uncomplicated, ripe and ready for the taking. It took very little effort to endear himself to you. A few well timed words and well placed smiles and you were falling at his feet. It was adorable, really, the way you fell apart when he came around. He expected the passing fancy to end at that, a short dalliance that would end in you being thrown to the side as his ambitions led him somewhere far greater than here, somewhere you couldn’t and shouldn’t follow.

But he found himself enjoying you more and more. Your wide eyes and gentle smiles, your soft hands and thighs, your plush lips and warm mouth. You may not be an asset to the family, ignorant to his work and his purpose, but you were…useful, in your own way.

The nightmares didn't stop, but it was a little easier to come back to reality with someone beside him, not that he would admit that. And if some days he awoke with his hands primed around your throat, ready to squeeze, well. Nobody had to know. That was the risk you took, you naive little thing, when you followed him home. When you accepted his invitation into his bed, into his arms. If you noticed the bruises when you woke up, you never mentioned them. He doesn’t know if it’s ignorance or pity that keeps your mouth shut. He doesn’t know which is worse.

It turns his stomach to think you would pity him, dare to see him as small enough to deserve anything less than utter devotion, than worship. But the idea of you leaving if you truly knew him, knew better…it’s worse than revolting. It makes every one of his muscles tense, his chest tighten, his teeth clench. Every part of him primed to chase you down, hold you tight, ensure that you would not and cannot leave him.

Once he had a hold of the thought of you leaving, it stayed buried beneath his skin, a constant nagging feeling he couldn’t shake. He was haunted with the image of you sneaking away, catching a ride on a ship somewhere far out of his reach. In the days following, he holds you closer than ever before, grip strong enough to bruise. You cannot move an inch without his permission. As it should be.

He begins his careful construction of your cage soon after.

It begins slowly, with small gifts that earn him that soft smile. Then the next step, as you slowly start losing contact with old friends, start coming to him more and more as the only person in your life there and willing to listen. He keeps you coming back for companionship, for joy, for pleasure, ensuring that you can come to him and only him for such things.

When he takes you, he studies you, carefully plans each action to lead you further and further into this delusion you seem to have. That he loves you. That you’re safe in these arms. That you chose this. 

“Doffy!” You cry sweetly when his teeth find your neck, nipping at you gently, finding and latching onto your most sensitive parts. Tomorrow he will pretend the marks are an accident, that the small amount of blood he draws was simply due to an excess of enthusiasm, and not just him taking what he’s owed. Every part of you is his, including the blood in your veins. If he wants it, it is his to have. He savors the taste of iron on his tongue, the taste of your very life, your vital essence.

Doflamingo’s hands are calloused, and you gasp as you feel their roughness against your skin. He holds himself back, ensuring his touches are firm but not cruel, that his pace is steady but not brutal. His hands find your breasts first, pinching and prodding demandingly. He keeps his eyes on your face as his fingers find their place, teasing as he watches you struggle to keep your eyes on his, lashes fluttering. You keen sweetly as he rolls your chest in his hands, and he almost struggles to keep the smirk off of his face. You’re putty beneath him, ready for him to shape in whatever image he pleases.

His hand slips lower, fingers tracing slowly down to where he knows you want him. He carefully plans his steps in this dance, and he can see in your eyes that you’re following his lead without question. You shine with adoration, and when he intertwines his free hand with yours, you light up, a goofy, lovesick smile overtaking your lust for a moment. He grins, a sense of warmth blooming through him. Surely a sense of accomplishment, for continuing the charade successfully. For leading you further and further into your cage without a moment’s hesitation. You’re eating out of his hand, just as you were meant to.

His fingers push past your panties, and he begins by inserting only one, slowly sliding it into your hole as you moan. He keeps his pace slow even as you wiggle your hips in frustration, even as you begin to softly whine. He doesn’t give you what you want until you beg.

“Doflamingo, please, more!” Your voice is tinged with desperation, and he chuckles.

“I need you to be more specific, little bird.”

“Faster, please.”

He had planned to make you beg far more than that, until you were nearly crying for him, but the sweet little whimper in your voice makes it hard to deny you. “That’s all you had to say.”

He begins to thrust his finger at a significantly faster pace, then adds another, then another, prepping you well for the real show. As much as he would love to take you immediately, to take and take and take until you’re broken beneath him, he was sure you would leave for that. You wouldn’t look up at him with that sickening admiration in your doe eyes anymore, and he simply would not lose that. He attempts to take the hand intertwined with yours back, to rub at your clit as you clench around him, but you curl your fingers around him harder, and cry out, “No, stay, please!”

He allows you to keep the hand, for now.

He can feel you near your precipice, can see it in your eyes, and chooses the exact moment before you break to pull out his fingers. You sob as they leave, and he gives you a sympathetic smile, hoping you’re too far gone to realize it’s far closer to a predator’s smug grin. “I know, sweet thing, but you can’t have all the fun to yourself.”

He finally peels your panties off, leaving you bare and caged beneath him, where you belong. He lines himself up with your entrance, and he stares you dead in the eyes as he plunges his full length into you at once. You cry out, eyes closing, and he tuts quietly. “Eyes on me.”

You obey.

His pace is fast but not punishing, and he keeps his thrusts on the softer side of brutal. Another thing he will blame on his enthusiasm tomorrow, when you quietly whine that it hurts to walk and he shushes you and tells you you belong in his bed anyway. You’ll laugh like it’s a joke, and he’ll laugh at your ignorance. One day you’ll realize it was the truth, and you’ll willingly nest here at his side, ready and wanting whenever he asks. But that is the future, and right now he should be more focused on how deeply his cock is buried inside you, and how you cry and tighten around him, calling his name.

His teeth long for your neck again, but he can’t bring himself to break your intoxicating eye contact. He can see himself reflected in your eyes, looking a far more innocent and giving man than he is. Is this how you see him? His hand finds your clit, willing to continue the charade. You nearly scream as you feel his finger rub against the nub, and he almost laughs. How easy you are to unravel. A few more thrusts and a few well practiced movements of his fingers and you come undone, squeezing around him tightly, eyes falling shut, back arching off the bed and pressing your chests together. He keeps moving, allows you to keep riding it out, burying you in your pleasure. He cums a few moments later, burying up to the hilt in you, filling you, marking you as his. He bites down on your shoulder, hard enough to bleed, and after his orgasm subsides he licks the wound, lavishing in the taste of you.

He falls on top of you, pinning you to the bed, and you don’t complain. You bring your arm up to run your hands through his hair affectionately. With the hand still held to the bed, you gently run your thumb over his knuckles, memorizing the feeling of it. You lay in silence as Doflamingo begins to slowly ponder the next stages of your entrapment. You’ll stay tonight, of course, but likely still go home tomorrow. Perhaps the next step should be ensuring you stay here every night. Accessible, willing, waiting for him. After that, he’ll find you work to do in the family, find some busywork that keeps you here. You can have everything you’ll ever need in these walls, if he so chooses. And choose you he does.

“Doffy?” Your sweet voice breaks him out of his pondering, and he looks down to see you staring up at him with something resembling worry.

“Yes, little bird?”

“Are you alright? You were frowning. Did I do something?” Your tone is filled with anxiety, your eyes searching his face for answers.

He chuckles. He can’t deny the pleasure he finds in you looking at him for comfort, for reassurance. You trust him. “No, of course not. I was just thinking about some plans for the future. Nothing to worry your pretty little head about.” To ensure the matter is laid to rest, he kisses you on the forehead, watching as you flush red, as your lips twitch into a smile and you hide your face in his shoulder. So sweet. So simple.

You fall asleep crushed beneath him, dreaming of a life shared. He falls asleep holding you close, dreaming of the next step in making you well and truly his.

[star-girl69]

Cowboy Like Me

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Reader

—-

Part One - The Last Time

Part Two - Cowboy Like Me

Part Three - Tomorrow Never Came (coming soon!)

Part Four - Living Legend (coming soon!)

Part Five - Pretty When You Cry (coming soon!)

—-

synopsis: 15 years later, you’re still climbing into clarisse’s arms and knowing she’s gonna leave.

a/n: personally i love life but idk about y’all and creds to @nvirskies for helping me w bits of this 🫶

Cowboy Like Me - Taylor Swift

warnings: y’all already know what’s happening

—-

“And I… I’m scared.”

You hum, adjusting yourself in your seat so your heart doesn’t break.

“It’s okay to be scared. I’m scared all the time.”

Jane is one of the sweetest kids you’ve ever met since becoming the Camp Half-Blood therapist thing. After your traumatizing years, watching Clarisse come and go, years spent in her bed- you found yourself wanting to tell someone.

You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry. You wanted to feel safe, especially when she was gone.

You wanted to tell someone that you hated Clarisse La Rue’s guts and also you loved her so much you weren’t sure if you could ever get over her.

So, you became that person.

“You’re allowed to be scared, though,” Jane continues. “I can’t. I’m a daughter of Ares, Y/N. If he sniffs out weakness then he’ll never love me.”

Your conversations with Jane have by far been the hardest sessions you’ve ever had. They remind you so much of what you went through 15 years ago. Of what you watched her go through.

“And you’re human, Jane. To fear is to be human. You’ll always be part human, the same way you are part god. That’s what being a demigod is,” you smile.

“It’s just… human?” she says, nose scrunching.

“All of the emotions you feel, the ones you hate, the ones that distract you- those are the ones that come from your mortal parent. Ares cannot take those away, no matter how hard he tries.”

You let the kids spread around the rumors that this room is magical and soundproof. In reality, the Gods just don’t care enough to listen.

—-

It took a long time to get Chiron and Mr. D to see the benefits of having an actual licensed therapist at Camp. They were hesitant, but you insisted, so they gave you a one month trial. It took even longer to get someone to actually come talk to you, but after Jane blew up on one of her siblings and hurt them, she came to you.

She came to you crying, saying she hated being like this, she hated being so explosive. And it was slow, but you helped her, and now she has coping mechanisms and now the entirety of the Ares cabin and a good portion of the camp scrambles for appointments with you.

Jane always comes at 6:30 on Fridays. She eats her dinner quick and runs across camp to your office at the Big House. Sometimes she cries, sometimes she squeezes a stress ball so hard she might actually crush it, but she always talks. She always opens herself up, she learns and she grows.

After that hour, you turn around and lay in your bed, and you think about Clarisse.

You think about when she comes back, you’re not so cold anymore but your heart is frozen over. You cry, she asks you not to cry, not when she’s here. She did the impossible, she survived.

But you see it in her eyes. The thrill. She will do it again and again for him and you will be left there.

And as much as your aching heart tells you to forget about her- she’s yours. You’re hers.

She calls you baby and pretty girl even though years of stress has caused crows lines around your eyes. You are still trapped with her, like some sort of wretched mirror- except you’re gazing into another world where you’re both still young. Where you’re both still happy. Where she didn’t leave.

You think about that alternate reality a lot.

You think about it tonight.

You come to your room and you lay on your cold bed, wrap an arm around your waist and imagine the pillow under your head is her chest. It’s embarrassing. It’s embarrassing to love her so much that you pretend she’s still here. It’s embarrassing that you pretend you have all the answers- the campers look up at you like you do have all the answers, but you really don’t. You know absolutely nothing. But you’re good at pretending.

The first time she visited camp she came to your room, cockily leaned against the door, and said something about how she had to meet the woman all of her younger siblings were gushing about. That night ended with her crying softly against your chest while you ran your hands through her hair.

And before, you went to colleges only an hour away from each other. When you were stressing about exams, when you got a bad grade, when the nights were cold and you missed her- you drove an hour and knocked on her door, and she let you in, into her bed, into her arms. She didn’t have let you into her heart, because you were always there.

When her roommate left for a few days for a family emergency, she asked her friends to take notes for her and drove to you. She stammered when you opened the door, tried to explain that she just couldn’t be alone, not anymore, not without you- and so she spent the next few days waiting in your room while you were at classes. You would sit in her lap while you did your homework, or she would just stand behind you at your desk and play with your hair. And you would spend your nights in her arms.

The second time she visited camp she didn’t say anything when she knocked on your door, and you just let her in. You spent the night laughing and reminiscing until you cried and she smiled sadly and asked you not to, and you tried for her, but you couldn’t. How can she expect you not to cry when she’s the one making you cry? When she’s cried herself over what happened between you?

The third, fourth, fifth, all the times she came to camp she would come to your door and sometimes you would cry, sometimes she would cry- sometimes you both would cry. Because how cruel is it to be held by the woman you love and know it’s not the girl you love? How cruel is it to know change?

—-

It’s not that you choose to love Clarisse. If you could choose, you wouldn’t love her. You would forget all about her. You dream about falling and hitting your head, waking up with a blank slate that’s untainted by her.

You don’t choose to love Clarisse.

Your skin doesn’t love her, not anymore- your cells replace every few weeks. And it’s been 2 months since she last came to camp. It’s your bones that love her. It’s something fundamental inside of you. Loving her is like moving- it takes so many little nerves and neurons to make it work- but it feels like nothing to you. Your bones love Clarisse.

And your bones surround your heart, and they trick you into loving her.

Every time she comes back you’re shocked by the way she isn’t her younger self. She’s older, there’s lines on her face, and she cut her hair a few inches shorter a few years ago. She carries herself different, partly because she’s grown and she’s learned to appreciate life a little more- she walks softer. And almost because you know she hurt her hip years ago, and you’ve spent nights kissing it and saying that she’ll be fine if she just gives it a little longer to heal.

You like to think that the reason she’s still able to go on quests and do everything she does is because of your healing touch.

But you see it sometimes, the way she walks softer, especially now after a long day. Its not that it hurts her, she’s just scared of putting a bit too much pressure on it so it does hurt her.

You watch her from the window. Smaller kids run past her, she’s listening absentmindedly to Abby James, the current counselor of the Ares cabin.

You giggle as she puts her hand on Abby’s shoulder and firmly says goodbye, pushing her off into the other direction- Abby is probably the most social Ares kid you’ve ever met. She’s a chatterbox, not in a bad or mean way, just a fact. Her long black hair swishes behind her as she turns, crossing her arms, and you’re sure you’ll be hearing about it in your next session.

You move back to the small couch- right by the door of your room. You sit there like you’re not expecting her, and you wait until you hear her footsteps up the stares to fix your hair and breathe in and out slowly.

She knocks.

“Come in,” you say, throwing your feet onto the coffee table and picking up a book about the history of psychology.

“Y/N,” she says. The door shuts behind her, she leans back against it.

“Hi, Clarisse,” you say, reduced to a child now that she’s in your presence. Now that you can look at her and see that she’s not her. “How are you?”

She snorts, walking past you and sitting in the armchair you sit in for your sessions.

“I don’t wanna play that shit tonight.”

“Hospitality?”

“Whatever you wanna call it,” she smiles, her feet touching yours on the coffee table. You feel a little breathless. You close the book, you weren’t even reading it, throwing it onto the coffee table.

She stares into your eyes.

“How have you been?”

You roll your eyes, but that just makes the tears more prominent.

“How is that any different?”

“‘Cause it’s you. ‘Cause I like hearing your voice.”

She leans back in the chair and gestures to you, so you cross your legs and sit up. You bite back the tears like a hyena with a fake laugh.

“Uh, I don’t know. The usual. All of my sessions are going good, not that I can really tell you. Why don’t I turn on some music?”

“Sure,” she says, leaning her face into her hands.

You walk past her and towards the bookshelf on the opposite wall, body screaming at the way your bare legs brush against her clothed knee.

It’s an old record player, somehow making the cut as not electronic enough to attract anything bad.

You don’t bother checking what you were last listening to. You just put the needle at the start of a song and hear the organs, the grand piano.

“I like this guy,” Clarisse says.

“Jeff Buckley,” you chuckle, smoothing down your camp t-shirt, adjusting your pajama shorts.

Looking out the door I see the rain // Fall upon the funeral mourners

You stand there for a moment longer, pretending to adjust your bookshelf, because you know you’ll start crying when you turn around and look at her.

So I’ll wait for you, love // And I’ll burn // Will I ever see your sweet return? // Oh, will I ever learn?

“Come back,” she says. She was just watching you avoid her. You could feel her eyes on you. You stiffen. “Please,” she adds, softly.

“It’s embarrassing,” you mutter, wiping the tears away.

“I’m just as embarrassing then, seeing how many times I’ve cried in this room. We cancel each other out.” You don’t turn, you can’t do it, you can’t let her see how much this effects you. “I don’t like it when you cry. Please, Y/N, come back.”

You take a deep breath and turn around, wanting to walk past her again, curious to see if she’ll reach out and pull you into the chair with her.

But she doesn’t get the chance too, because your eyes are blinded by tears, and the place where the rug curls up is always making you stumble. Except on days when she’s here, you’re so drained of everything, so you trip completely.

Your knees slam against the hardwood floor, Clarisse tries her best to catch you, but she was a foot too far to reach you- even with her fast reflexes.

And now you’re on your knees in front of her, crying even louder with burning knees.

“Y/N,” she breathes, and you drag yourself towards her, sobbing like a baby until you’re at her feet, resting your head in her lap. “Hey, it’s okay, it’s fine. I trip all the time.” You both know you’re not crying about that.

You press your face into the space between her leg and the cushion to muffle your loud cries.

You grab her legs, feral, nails digging through her cargo pants- but you don’t even reach skin.

“I love you so much, Clarisse,” you sob. “I love you. Don’t leave me tonight. Don’t leave me.”

She breathes out, it’s silent and you bite your tongue.

“I’ll stay tonight,” she says. “I was always gonna stay tonight, you don’t have to ask, baby.”

“Say you love me,” you whisper. “Say it, please.”

“I love you,” she says, her lips in your hair. “Of course I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

There is a certain desperation with demigod relationships. And you feel it now, you feel the desperate hands and the yearning hearts as you cry at her feet. And you feel your knees burn as you kneel before her. You listen to Jeff Buckley croon about love gone while you cry at her feet.

You can’t be embarrassed in this moment. Part of you feels like this is all just Clarisse’s problem, for being so beautiful you still love her, for leaving you and never putting you first. She has to hold you and fix you, she has to deal with the wet pant leg full of your tears. But really, you just want her to hold you. You just want to pretend she never left in the first place.

It’s never over // She is the tear that hangs inside my soul forever

—-

“Are you hungry?” you ask when you finally let go of her, pushing her away as you wipe your wet face.

She studies you for a moment.

“Yeah,” she says, honestly. “What’cha got?”

You reach under the coffee table for the box of snacks you always keep incase someone gets hungry during a session. You’ve both moved to the couch for more space, Jeff Buckley is still going in the background- you’ll have to get up and flip it over soon, or put on something else.

She rifles through the bags of mortal snacks until she finds a bag of salt and vinegar chips.

“Thanks, baby,” she mutters, tearing into the bag. You lean against the couch and just watch her. It could be like this all the time. If she would just stay.

She tries to feed you one, but for some reason that feels too intimate and you shake your head. She shrugs and eats it, even though it was pressed up against your lips a second ago.

That’s the one thing you don’t do. You kiss each other everywhere, except for the lips. You touch her everywhere, except for her lips.

You cry in her arms and she kisses your head, she runs her hands down your body but doesn’t kiss you.

And you’re scared of it. You’re scared of kissing her. You still feel like you can leave, even after all the nights together, if you just don’t kiss her.

She gestures to the curtain that separates your bedroom from where you see campers. “I like the new curtain. Flowers,” she says.

You rake your eyes over the carefully crocheted patterns, pink and blue and yellow, purple and green and red, all turned into pretty flowers.

“A few kids from the Demeter cabin made it for me,” you smile, thinking of how proud they had been to give it to you. “It’s so beautiful.”

“It is,” Clarisse says, but she’s not looking at the curtain anymore. “Jane was talking about you all day,” she says after a moment. “She really loves you.”

“I love her. If she hadn’t come to me, then no one else would have, and I probably would have gotten thrown out. I don’t even know where I would have gone.”

“You could’ve come to me. You can always come to me.”

You have her address pinned to a bulletin board next to your bed.

“Yeah,” you mumble, playing with a loose thread on the back of the couch. “She reminds me a lot of you, you know.”

“Really?” she chuckles. “How?”

“I can’t tell you, silly. Doctor-patient confidentiality.”

“Well, you said she’s like me. So just tell me what I’m like.”

“Okay,” you mumble, thinking over every moment you’ve spent with Clarisse, every session with Jane. “Well, you have very big emotions. It’s hard for you to control them. But, you never really feel them. You never get to the root of the problem. So, when something actually happens, all you know how to do is recognize that you’re angry. You can’t figure out why.”

“You’re good at this shit,” she mumbles. You laugh.

“Hm, you forget that being a demigod means you’re half human, too. And you’re very loyal. You’re loyal to the wrong people, sometimes.”

She crunches up the empty bag of chips and drops it onto the coffee table.

“Don’t do that,” she says.

“Do what?”

She rubs her socks against your knees. “I jus’ wanna be here with you, right now. Don’t say anything else.”

“You asked me about Jane.” You scoff and she glares at you, but her feet are still touching you, and you sigh. “I’m sorry. I jus’ wanna be here with you, too.”

She stares at you for a long moment, unblinking. When she finally looks away, she’s rubbing tears out of her eyes. You move to sit on your knees, leaning towards her.

“Clar, don’t cry,” you say. “What happened?”

You take her face in your hands, so she can’t wipe away the tears. Staring into your eyes, she’s forced to let them fall. She puts her hands on your waist.

“Sometimes I jus’ think about how you’ll never forgive me.”

You don’t know what to say to that.

“Let’s not talk about that right now, Clar. C’mon.”

“Is this room soundproof?” she asks, suddenly. You frown at first, not knowing what that has to do with anything- but then you remember.

You let the kids assume it’s soundproof in your early sessions. But eventually, when they ask, you tell them the truth. You tell them it’s not.

And when they get scared and ask if their godly parents will hear them- you put your hand on their arm and say no. No, they won’t hear you. It’s not that they can’t, it’s that they won’t. They won’t care.

“No. It’s not.”

She shakes her head and laughs.

“So, what? You just sit here and tell these kids that their parents don’t love them?”

“Because they don’t. A God’s love is not a human’s love, Clarisse, why-why dont you get it? It’s different. It’s just different. It’s not necessarily bad, it’s just not what these kids need.”

“You make them think that their parents don’t care about them.”

“Because they don’t! Fuck. They don’t, okay!”

She stares at you for a long time after your outburst.

“What is wrong with you?” she mutters, not necessarily mean but more genuinely curious. She truly believes your wrong in your hatred of the Gods.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with me? I spend my entire day helping kids. I spent my entire day handing them tissues, hugging them, teaching them coping skills. I have devoted my entire life to making sure no one ever felt how I felt. How am I the bad guy for helping them place the blame on who it really should be placed?”

“How you felt?”

You shuffle, sitting up taller.

“Yes, how I felt. How I feel. You don’t know what it was like for me, Clarisse. You don’t know what it was like to sleep without you and know that you were probably gone-”

“What the hell do you think I did every night of that quest?”

“But I didn’t leave you, Clarisse! I didn’t leave you. I have been waiting for you for years. You are the one who leaves me over and over again. And you- you have someone. I have no one, except for you. No one.”

Clarisse has a father. She has someone to blame, if she chose. She has someone to pray to, to cry to, to guide her.

What do you have? The unclaimed daughter of no one? The only person you belong to is Clarisse. And here she is, staring at you like you disgust her.

The anger falls away, because at your core you’re still a lonely 16 year old who needs her to come back, who needs to be claimed, who needs to be loved.

You’re a licensed psychologist. You know that you have deep, deep abandonment issues. You know that Clarisse is at the root of them. But the part of you that’s just a girl, your bones that will always love her, she’s everything to you. She’s all you have.

“Please don’t make us fight,” you cry, hands pressed to your cheeks. “You’re making me cry, Clarisse. Don’t make me cry.”

You watch her change entirely. It goes from the woman who can’t understand you to the girl who knows only you.

“I hate it when you cry,” she says, softly, a gateway back into her arms.

You throw yourself against her, trying your best not to cry for her, but you fail. Her lips are in your hair, your head against her chest. She smooths down your hair and begs you not to cry. Because for some reason, this feels like too much. For some reason, this hurts her the most.

Clarisse is self destructive just like you.

She helps you to your bed. She touches the flower curtain as you walk past.

Clarisse knows she’s hurting you and she knows you’re hurting her. You know you’re hurting her and you know she’s hurting you.

She takes off her uncomfortable clothes and slips under the blanket with you.

Clarisse loves you the same way you love her. Not by choice, but by nostalgia, by hope. She loves you because of what might be. You love her the same way. You both hope that one day it’ll all work out.

She tucks the blanket around you and cups your face. She tells you she’s sorry and whispers “I love you” one more time. You put your hand on her hip, the other pressing against your chest. You say you love her too. You say you love her so much you’re reduced to this less-than thing in her presence.

Clarisse doesn’t understand you. You don’t understand her. She’s nobody’s son, and you’re nobody’s daughter. You try to go about your day without her but you think about her on you so much.

It’s hard to do well on these nights when you know she’s gonna leave you. So you cry, you pretend, you relish this one night in her arms.

“I promise I don’t mean to hurt you,” she whispers. “I don’t. I love you so much. I want you to be happy, but I can’t let you go.” She traces her nose along your jawline. “I can’t let you be happy away from me.”

And it sounds so horrible and cruel, but the way she hurts you is so beautiful you can’t be bothered. She only hurts you because of love. Because she loves you, because she loves her father.

“I know,” you breathe. “I know everything. I don’t mean to hurt you either, I know exactly how you feel.”

A single tear falls down her face. “I can’t help but hurt you. I can’t help but let you hurt me.”

“I know, Clarisse,” you mutter. You press your lips to her cheek and swallow the salty tear falling down her face. “It feels so good, I know.”

Clarisse is a sadist like you. Clarisse is a masochist like you.

Clarisse is addicted to the pain just like you.

—-

me when i’m in an toxic and cosmically doomed relationship contest and my opponents are clarisse and y/n: 😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱

let me know if you cried in the comments below! 😘

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish

[strwbrrymlkjh]

alhaitham x gn!reader

entering a romantic relationship with alhaitham the scribe was one thing but expecting, hoping, to maintain that kind of relationship with alhaitham the acting grand sage was another. or alhaitham asks for another chance.

!!!: texts in italics are flashbacks. POV changes. angst, neglected reader, lack of communication, mention of alcohol consumption, inaccurate lore, i have no idea what alhaitham does as the acting grand sage, maybe ooc, open-ended, not proofread

wc: 2.2k

AO3

An unmistakable mop of silver hair greets you as you make your way through the hallway of your tenement. Sensing your presence, the figure turned his head to your direction and locked eyes with you. The intensity behind those familiar green eyes instantly rooted you to your spot. One look at his face was enough to bring back the painful memories you tried so hard to bury for the past month.

°

Entering a romantic relationship with Alhaitham the Scribe was one thing but expecting, hoping, to maintain that kind of relationship with Alhaitham the Acting Grand Sage was another.

Ever since his reluctant acceptance of the position of Acting Grand Sage, you rarely saw your boyfriend at home. In fact, you barely see him at all. You understand that he was preoccupied with rebuilding Sumeru and the Akademiya, yet you cannot help but miss his presence; the slow mornings where he would enjoy the cup of coffee you prepared for him, the peaceful afternoons that you would spend together reading in your living room, the dinners filled with pleasant conversations as you recounted your day. You miss him.

The sound of your front door closing jolted you awake from your nap. Sitting up from your spot on the couch, you greeted your boyfriend who just arrived home.

“Alhaitham. Welcome home.”

“Why are you sleeping on the couch?”

“I was reading, actually. I just closed my eyes for a second, and then dozed off, I guess.” You responded, chuckling weakly.

“I recall telling you not to wait for me.”

“I know, but -” I miss you. You cannot bring yourself to tell him. He was already burdened enough as is, and the last thing you would want to do is to add to his worries.

He sighed and offered his hand for you to take. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”

°

“Haitham, are you free tomorrow? It’s been a while since we visited the Grand Bazaar."

“I apologize Y/N, but I cannot come with you. I still have to review these research projects in need of funding.” He gestured to the thick bundle of papers that littered his desk.

You offered him a smile. “Alright. We can always do it next weekend.”

°

“I think I can make it in time for dinner tonight.” Is what he said.

You have no idea how long you sat in your dining room waiting for him. The food you prepared was now sitting cold at the table. Glancing at the clock, you felt a sad smile tug at your lips. Another missed dinner. You let out a heavy sigh as you started clearing away the plates you carefully arranged hours ago.

Alhaitham is a very busy man, and with everything that’s going on in the Akademiya, you knew better than to ask him to do things you used to do together.

At this point, the growing list of broken promises were too many to count.

Soon enough, all the pleasant dinners turned into late night meals eaten alone and the once warm bed became your only witness of the cold nights and the silent mornings you endured on your own.

°

After what felt like an eternity of staring at each other, he took a cautious step towards you.

“Y/N.”

Pretending you didn’t hear him, you bit the inside of your cheek and fished for your apartment keys inside your bag.

Once again, you hear Alhaitham call out your name.

You are certain that if you bite any harder, you would draw blood, but it was the only way to keep your barely composed façade from cracking.

A warm hand held your wrist as you were about to unlock the door. Startled, you pulled away as if burned. You rubbed the area, a nervous habit.

Even at a distance, you wouldn’t miss how the light left Alhaitham's eyes after seeing your reaction to his touch. The apology was at the tip of your tongue - you did not mean to pull away, you were just surprised, you wanted to tell him.

Your gaze traveled from his crestfallen face to his disheveled hair, sunken cheeks and the out-of-place cape. Looking at him now, you are certain that nobody would be able to tell that the man before you is the intimidating Acting Grand Sage of the Akademiya.

Despite yourself, you wanted to reach out and touch his face, card your fingers through his hair, wipe the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. You clenched your fist at your side to stop yourself.

A month ago, you left your shared apartment with a promise not to get pulled by his gravity again. You feel your resolve falter now that you’re in his orbit.

Green eyes met yours once more and you felt your cheeks heat up. You averted your gaze and headed for your apartment door.

“Wait, Y/N. Please. Can I talk to you? Ten minutes. No. Five. Five minutes is enough. Please, I just need to tell you something.”

You stopped in your tracks. The desperation that laced his voice reminded you of the moments when you had to fight for even a minute of his time.

°

“It was one date Y/N.” Alhaitham reasons out. “Do not make it a huge deal.”

You turned to him, a look of indignation on your face. “One date? It’s our anniversary Alhaitham. Is it really too much to ask for one dinner with you?” You exclaimed. “I looked like a fool. No, I felt like a fool waiting for you to show up. You did not even think about telling me that you couldn’t make it.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose before turning to you. “I apologize, but you are well aware that I have more pressing matters to attend to at the Akademiya.”

You did not think that your heart could break any further. You have known it for a while now; his duty always comes first.

°

Alhaitham knew that he did not have the right to be here and his presence was likely to hurt you. It was nothing new, he thought grimly. It seems that that was all he has ever done these past few months - cause you pain.

He unintentionally drove you away and now he was here, consumed by regrets yet filled with determination to do better. That is, if you give him a chance to do so.

It seems the odds are against him as he watches you rub the wrist he touched. It was one of your nervous habits. It could also be that you were trying to erase the lingering feeling of his skin making contact with yours, a voice whispered in his head.

You stood unmoving after he practically pleaded you to hear him out and it was enough to give him a sliver of hope.

He cleared his throat. “Have you been well?”

“You came here to ask me that?” You responded, the disbelief evident in your tone.

“No. I mean -” He closed his eyes tightly, willing his headache to go away. The lack of sleep was getting to him. This was not how he wanted this to go.

Gathering the will to speak again, he continued, “You weren’t answering my letters and I simply wish to know how you have been faring.”

No, these were half-truth, excuses. If he really wanted to earn another chance, he should start with being honest with you, with himself. So, he said, “I am sorry. I wanted to see you. I missed you, Y/N.”

The silence that followed his statement was deafening. He watched you study his face before he heard you ask, “Are you drunk?”

“I did have a couple of glasses at the tavern, yes. But I assure you, I am completely aware of what I am doing at this moment.” He answered honestly. “I am the worst, aren't I? I do not even have the courage to face you sober.” He bowed his head, a weak smile tugged at his lips. “Sorry, I’m just - I really am sorry.”

“Is that the reason why you’re here? To share your newfound drinking habits?” You responded coldly.

“No, I do have my reason.” He raised his head to look at you behind his blurry eyes and the sight took his breath away. “But … were you … were you always this beautiful?” He blurted out before he could stop himself. Though, it was not the alcohol speaking. It was the truth. The sun was setting behind you and it bathed you in its glow, casting a halo around your head.

He felt himself struggle for a silent breath as he took his time taking you in. “You are so beautiful, my love." The term of endearment hangs between the both of you.

You shook your head. “You’re drunk, Alhaitham.”

“I’m not.” He insisted. “I’m not. It’s just … I can’t believe I hurt someone this beautiful so deeply.” And in a quieter voice, as if talking to himself, he whispered, “I’m such a fool.”

He knows he cannot win you back like this; not with flowery words and praises of your beauty. Still, he wanted to tell you that and many other things he was not able to.

Panic welled up inside him as you shook your head and unlocked your door. Chasing after you, he had half the mind to hug you from behind to stop you from leaving. But he knew he shouldn't push his luck right now, if your reaction earlier is anything to go by.

"Y/N, please."

You turned to him. "Then, enough with the nonsense Alhaitham. Just say what you have to say and leave." Your tone was calm but he heard the slight tremble in your voice. Even now, he was hurting you without meaning to.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he said, "What I wanted to say is that I am sorry. I know I have countless things to apologize for and I … I cannot express how sorry I am. The word 'sorry' is not good enough." He looked down, ashamed of himself, a Haravatat scholar not having the right words to convey his intentions.

He wanted so badly to tell you how much he regrets taking you for granted and to let you know that since you left, all he could think about is you. Even when he somehow manages to stop doing so, everything he looks at seems to hold a piece of you and you invade his thoughts once more, as if you never left in the first place.

Your favorite mug sitting untouched in the kitchen cupboard reminds him of the coffees you used to make for him. The books gathering dust at his study bring back memories from when you would sit beside him, warm body pressed against his as you read your own books. The bed which was too big for one person makes him think about how lonely you must have been, spending those cold nights and silent mornings alone.

He lays awake at night in that same bed, haunted by the defeated look in your eyes the day you decided to end your relationship, or what's left of it. You were tired of fighting for a place in his life, you said.

The logical part of him argued that you were both better off this way. As long as he was the Acting Grand Sage, he knows that he cannot be the man you need, the man you deserve.

But here he was, hoping that you would still have him, because there's no one else for him but you.

"I - I am so sorry." He has no idea how many times he has uttered that word now. "For taking you for granted, for not fighting for you, for letting you go so easily. Y/N, I love you so much. I don't think it's possible for me to love anybody else." He confessed.

His hands itched to wipe the tears that streamed down your face. Gauging your reaction, he took a tentative step forward. "I know that I have no right to ask this from you, but Y/N … can you let me stay by your side again?"

°

Your heart was racing, everything around you was spinning. Contradicting thoughts were swimming inside your head - you wanted to say yes because you still love him, but at the same time, you wanted to push him away because you're afraid of getting hurt again.

You did not notice the tears freely cascading down your face until a hand wiped them away. Looking up at him, you said, “I don’t know Alhaitham. With the way things are between us …” You trailed off.

He reached for your trembling hand and brought it to his lips. “I never stopped loving you, even if my actions made you think otherwise. Let me prove it to you.”

Seconds pass without any response from you, Alhaitham speaks again, "You do not have to give me an answer now. Take all the time you need. I can wait." His grip on your hand tightened before letting go. “You should go inside now. It’s getting late.”

You nodded absentmindedly. He took a step back and you instantly missed the warmth that his body has to offer. You stepped inside your apartment, but for some reason, you cannot close the door while he is still there.

“Thank you for hearing me out. I meant every word I said, Y/N. I’ll wait for you, no matter how long it takes.”

thank you so much for reading! comments, reblogs and likes are appreciated ♡♡♡