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bamfkeeper · 3 months ago

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Sinister Kurt having trouble with his instincts, you are the only one who calms him.

Firstly, Kurt with horns? YUM. But I like how they showed him having difficulty controlling himself after his mutation was further developed (I don't remember what the circumstances were). I thought it was a cool concept for his character so here we go. Inner conflict is always fun.

Warnings: Descriptions of violence and blood, some angst, comfort ofc, gender neutral reader, unedited ignore mistakes.

WC: 2.7k

Kurt had no idea where they came from. He woke up with two horns on his head like some sort of Krampus. He felt something inside himself stir, and he tried to ignore it, it felt like a pit in his gut that slowly began to expand and grow when he wasn't focused on repressing it.

You reassured him he was still the handsome man you loved, his horns gave him a little extra insecurity. He hadn't felt so insecure about himself in a long time, as Krakoa had provided such acceptance his appearance hadn't been a thought in his mind as a bad thing. But these horns...they made him look more like a devil than anything else, and that worried him.

"Engel...I am becoming ein Teufel..." he mumbled sadly, touching them as he looked at himself in the mirror. "What is becoming of me..." he turned to look at you, his eyes holding confliction and sadness.

"Oh, my love," you cooed to him, standing and walking over, "They're just a pair of little horns...I'm sure that they'll go away...maybe." Your sentence quieted towards the end, it was such a random development, you had no idea where the horns stemmed from and what was going to happen to him. Was his mutation randomly evolving more? Was it something in Krakoa that was making his mutation mutate? You didn't know.

Kurt sighed inwardly, his arms wrapped tightly around himself as if seeking solace from an unseen torment. You hadn't seen him in this state for years; he looked so lost, so utterly confused. It was as though he was grappling with a fear that had taken residence within him, a fear directed at his very own reflection. With his new appearance, you couldn't blame him for feeling this way.

His once familiar face now bore the horns of a demon and he couldn't recognize himself, even with something so minor. He thought he looked awful, and he was at a complete loss on how to process these overwhelming feelings, the weight of his transformation was a burden he didn't know how to carry.

Not that he told you yet, but it wasn't just a physical change he had gone through. There was something deeper and more unsettling happening within him. His urges were growing stronger and more insistent every day. He felt a strange compulsion that he couldn't easily explain. He didn't know how to bring it up with you because he didn't want to scare you or make you worry. The thought of sharing this part of himself was something he was trying to avoid, he feared your reaction more than anything.

He would see you talk to another man, and everything in his body screamed at him to attack. His muscles tensed, his fists clenched, and his heart pounded as primal instincts surged through him. The images and urges that flashed across Kurt's mind scared him deeply, filling him with a sense of dread and confusion. He shook his head vigorously, trying to dispel the violent thoughts clouding his mind.

"Nein...I am...not a monster," he muttered to himself, arguing, begging with his own being, his voice trembling with the effort to control his darker impulses. He held onto you, whispering German prayers to himself. The internal struggle was intense, leaving him feeling isolated and tormented, as if he were battling a beast within.

And he was, in a way.

His grip on your hip would be tight, his nails had grown into claws that dug into you, not on purpose but in the moment he couldn't help himself. His yellow eyes glared at the man, his lip curled up slightly to bare his teeth. He snapped out of his descent only when he heard your voice in his ear. "Kurt?? That hurts, a bit..." You winced slightly, your hand gently trying to ease the grip he had on your waist.

He snapped out of it, blinking a few times and letting go. "Liebling....I...es tut mir Leid...." he apologized quietly, his voice barely a whisper. He looked down at his hand once he let go of you, his eyes filled with confusion and concern. "Something is happening to me...I....do not know how to explain it," he continued, his tone tinged with a mix of fear and bewilderment.

What was strange was that a part of him actually liked these new instincts that were surfacing within him. It was a feeling that baffled him, and he hated himself for even entertaining such thoughts. He had always prided himself on his compassion and his desire to never cause harm to anyone, ever.

But now, these intrusive thoughts were invading his mind with increasing frequency, making the idea of causing harm seem so...good, almost irresistible. It was a battle within himself, between the person he had always been and these dark new impulses that threatened to take over. It was like a siren song, beckoning him to come over the brink.

"What do you mean?" you asked him gently, your voice full of understanding and patience. Despite having no idea what was going on, you managed to sound so composed and caring. He was incredibly fortunate to have someone like you by his side. So deeply in love with him, you were always there to protect and support him. Your devotion was unwavering, and it made him feel cherished. So protective. So possessive.

Kurt stared you down intently, his piercing yellow eyes observing your every move. After a moment of intense scrutiny, he grabbed hold of you firmly and tugged you flush against him. You could feel the warmth of his body against yours, and his breathing increased noticeably. You made a sudden gasp of surprise at the unexpected act, your heart pounding in your chest.

He lowered his head closer to you, his forehead gently touching yours, his horns rested delicately on your head. Behind him, his tail thrashed wildly, a clear indication of his heightened emotions. It was obvious that he was either irritated or stressed, as his tail only behaved this way in such situations. The air around you seemed to crackle with tension, making the moment even more intense. His silence didn't help.

"Kurt...?" you squeaked as his hands grasped your ass and squeezed firmly, sending a shiver down your spine. Your eyes widened in surprise and you felt his tail wrap tightly around you, holding you still in a firm, possessive grip.

"Kurt!" you exclaimed, looking around nervously. He had never been so bold before, and this unexpected display of affection caught you off guard. A few playful touches here and there in public were common, sure, but to grab you in such an intimate and brazen manner without a care in the world was completely unlike him.

Your mind raced as you tried to make sense of his sudden audacity, wondering what had prompted this uncharacteristic behavior. "W-what has gotten into you?!" Your voice echoed in his mind, getting lost in the fog clouding his rational thinking. All he could think about right now was you. How good you'd feel, how good you'd taste.

One more shout at him and he seemed to snap out of the hold the dark fog inside of him had. With a blink he pulled back, his cheeks turning violet, "Ach! I-I didn't mean to do that!" Kurt spoke quickly, his voice trembling with urgency, "Es tut mir Leid! I-I'm sorry!" His eyes were wide with concern as he looked at you, clearly distressed.

His hands, which have been on your backside, were retracted up like he had touched an oven, fingers curling as if to protect himself from further harm. The tension in the air was palpable, and you could see the regret etched on his face, his body language screaming apology and fear.

"Kurt, sweetheart...please, talk to me. Tell me what's going on..." You pleaded with him, your hands cupping his cheeks. "I'm not mad because you grabbed my butt either. You've literally been inside me," your words made him stiffen and blush harder, a tiny whine escaping through his trembling lips. "I just want to know what's going on...you're acting so...different. Since those horns sprouted from your head..."

He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with a heavy sigh, and looked down to avoid your gaze. The weight of his thoughts made it impossible for him to bring himself to look you in the eye. He felt such shame and embarrassment, fearing you wouldn’t like what you heard. After a moment of silence, he finally spoke, his voice trembling with vulnerability.

"I've been... having thoughts. Bad thoughts... these images flash across my mind. They are random sometimes, appearing out of nowhere, but sometimes they happen in the moment," he begins quietly, his words barely audible. "It's like a dark cloud that follows me, casting a shadow over everything. I don't know what to do about it, and I'm scared of what it means. I'm afraid it means I am becoming something horrible..."

You coo softly, your thumbs gently rubbing his cheekbones as you stay quiet, offering him the space and time he needs to get out the words he struggles to voice. "What are they? The thoughts?" you ask gently, your voice barely above a whisper, trying to coax him into sharing more with you so you can have a better understanding.

"Hurting people," Kurt's voice strains, "I don't want to! I don't want to hurt anyone, I'm not a monster... I don't want to be one... but... it's so overwhelming sometimes. It's like every fiber in my body is demanding me to do it," he continues, his voice cracking under the weight of his confession. You can see the torment etched across his face, the internal struggle tearing him apart.

"You aren't a monster, Kurt. This might just...be part of this new development," you said, your voice gentle and reassuring. You stroked up more, feeling the base of his horns, noting the texture and warmth. "You don't act on those thoughts, and that's a good sign. You're not a slave to those intrusive flashes; you recognize that they are wrong, and you don't act on them. That means you aren't the person you imagine you are. You have control, even if it doesn't always feel that way."

"But what if I do act on them," he asks weakly, his voice trembling with fear and uncertainty. "What if I can't control it?"

"Then I will help you," you replied firmly, your eyes locked onto his, full of determination and love. "I'm not worried, because I believe in you." You gave him a tender kiss, showing him all the love you could muster. "Trust me, if you can't trust yourself. We will face this together, and I will be by your side every step of the way. You are not alone in this."

He shed a few tears, and they stained his pretty cheeks in dark lines as they traveled slowly down his face. His pained gaze closed tightly as he bit his lip, trying to stifle the sobs that threatened to escape. "Ich verdiene dich nicht," he whispered weakly, his voice barely audible as it trembled with emotion. His shaky hands held you with such gentle awareness, as if he were afraid to harm you accidentally with his claws.

"You do." You gave him a few more soft kisses, your gentle reassurance helping keep his emotions at bay.

That was a week ago.

Now, you followed the sound of his teleportation and saw him fighting alongside other mutants. You joined in, not knowing what exactly was happening, but seeing enough to know that these soldiers were attacking your home. You were fighting well, your skills made you a confident fighter, but when Kurt spotted you and more soldiers around you, his composure vanished.

That horrible itch he had been so desperate to scratch was finally too overwhelming for him.

The sound of a mighty roar echoed through the air as he lunged at the soldiers with a terrifying intensity. His movements were swift and brutal, attacking them with such ferocity that it left you stunned, unable to process what was happening. Normally, Kurt was known for his preference to incapacitate his opponents, opting to knock them down and out rather than kill them unless absolutely necessary. However, in this moment, he had abandoned his usual morals and principles, casting them aside like a forgotten cloak.

Right now, he was a force of nature, mercilessly ripping into the soldiers with an uncharacteristic savagery that showcased a side of him you had never seen before. You watched with disbelief as Kurt completely ravaged through the soldiers, staying in front of you and snarling with blood caked between his teeth, drooling down his goatee and staining his fuzzy skin. You tried to call out to him, to be the desperate voice of reason in his carnage.

It seemed that your voice fell on deaf ears, and he continued his relentless attack.

He had ruthlessly slaughtered over twelve men within a mere minute, and he didn't seem to have any qualms or remorse about it. The air was thick with tension as he turned to look at you, his chest heaving with heavy breaths like a wild animal after a fierce battle. Slowly, he crawled over to you, inching closer with a predatory grace.

You were frozen in place, paralyzed by the sheer brutality and unfamiliarity of this new Kurt. His eyes, which were usually so expressive and full of life, now seemed glazed over with an emotion you couldn't quite decipher. It was as if a stranger had taken over the body of the man you once knew, leaving you feeling more vulnerable and confused.

He dripped onto you, causing you to whine and hastily wipe the blood off your top. His head lowered against you, his breath warm and uneven. "Kurt...?" you asked weakly, your voice trembling as it escaped your lips.

The sound of your voice made him stiffen slightly, and he leaned back, his intense gaze boring holes into you, scrutinizing every inch of your face. The air around you felt thick with tension, and you could feel the heavy weight of his stare.

His breathing calmed, the rapid rise and fall of his chest slowing to a more steady rhythm, and he stayed where he was, staring at you with an unwavering focus. You swore he seemed more mutated in that moment, his claws were longer, sharper, and his horns almost appeared just as so, curving menacingly.

The changes in his appearance made your heart race even faster, a mixture of fear and concern gnawing at your insides as you wondered what exactly had happened to him. What caused this?

You slowly reached out to him, your hand trembling as it brushed against his cheek, ignoring the blood that spattered across his skin from his recent animalistic attack. The warmth of his skin contrasted sharply with the coldness of the blood. He relayed a quiet growl to you, his eyes blinking slowly, the ferocity gradually fading as he began to regain his senses.

As he came to, he saw the destruction he had caused, the chaos and ruin that lay around him. It was so painfully heart-wrenching to watch him realize the extent of what he had done, the devastation in his eyes made you want to wrap him up and take him away.

"W-what...what did I do..." he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper, as he glanced back over his shoulder. He could only bear to look at the bodies for a mere second before quickly averting his gaze in horror and disbelief. "Nein...nein, nein....I didn't...did I??" His bloody hands trembled violently, the crimson stains glaring back at him accusingly, and he made a quiet, heart-wrenching wail, shrinking into himself where he sat, overwhelmed by the gravity of the situation.

You were right there to catch him, just as you had promised. Gently, you reached out, offering the comfort and support he desperately needed.

"Hey, hey...it..it's okay," you tried to find the words to comfort him, but you realized words weren't enough to ease the pain or fear he was experiencing. So, you chose to just be there for him, offering silent support and understanding. Just you, being a comforting presence in his time of need.

He grabbed you and clung on, crying as he didn't bother holding himself back. He was distraught, the very thing he feared the most had happened. "I'm here." you whispered quietly, your arms wrapped tightly around him as the rest of the world faded away and you became the only thing he could focus on.

"I'm here."

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

dividers by @/adornedwithlight

Cover Images: Legion of X #7 (2023); Legion of X #8 (2023); Legion of X #7 (2023)

#kurt wagner #nightcrawler #kurt wagner x reader #nightcrawler x reader #x men #xmen #x men 97 #🎠my works

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cafelattaes · 10 months ago

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beat you at your own game | hrj

summary: y/n has a crush on renjun, who's not that great with people. despite his standoffish nature, she makes an effort to be friendly. but things take a twist when she starts to ignore him.

pairing: renjun x fem!reader

genre: college au, fluff, angst

word count: 3.5k

huang renjun, how exactly would you describe him? well, for starters, he can be a bit cranky. he's all about having his own space, not a fan of dragging things out, and gets things done in a flash. he’s also straightforward and not afraid to speak his mind. people have mixed feelings about him because of it. but oddly enough, it only adds to his charm, making people naturally drawn to him, much to his 'i'd-rather-not' demeanor.

needless to say, you just had to develop a crush on someone who’s the total opposite of you. you’re a people-pleaser; you’d much rather say things that would please others than express your genuine thoughts. confrontations make you uncomfortable, and you lean towards making excuses for those who hurt you on purpose. you also always try to avoid conflicts as much as you can and resort to suffering in silence instead. you're trying to change these aspects of yourself, but since you grew up having these traits, breaking free can be a bit hard. still, you're working on it.

you never intended to let renjun know about your feelings, but your friends were determined to embarrass you whenever he was around, constantly teasing you. it didn't help that despite not being close to renjun and his group, some of them were friends with your close friends, so they eventually joined in poking fun at your crush. one day, you decided to dismiss their incessant teasing and initiated a friendly conversation with renjun. at first, he responded out of courtesy. you weren't stupid though; you could tell that renjun was clearly fed up with his friends and wanted nothing to do with their antics.

he began to dislike being associated with you, offering only short responses and not acknowledging your presence more than necessary. you didn’t pay it much mind, since getting close to him wasn't your original goal. your aim was to ease the awkwardness and shed the embarrassment that accompanied your interactions. you happened to share some classes with renjun, coincidentally, those were the ones where both your friends weren't around. sitting next to him became a default habit, as he was the only familiar face in those particular classes.

one morning, you found yourself running late for your 8am class, prompting you to dash before your professor arrived. you accidentally collided with renjun, who happened to be holding an iced coffee. to your horror, more than half of the drink ended up spilling onto his shirt.

“oh my god, renjun, i’m so sorry!” you looked at him in fear, and it took everything in him to remain calm.

“why are you running around a busy hallway?”

“i’m really, really sorry. i’m late for my first class and i didn’t think i’d bump into anyone.” renjun let out an annoyed sigh.

“whatever.”

“wait!” you started rummaging through your bag to bring out some alcohol and wipes. “do you need them?”

“no, thank you.” he tried to walk past you, but you caught his arm.

“what about the stain?”

“i have a spare shirt. can you let me go now? i thought you said you were late.”

“shoot, you’re right. i’m sorry again, i promise i’ll make it up to you!” you shouted as you ran.

“please don’t,” he grumbled.

later on, you found renjun at the library working on your assignments. you sat quietly next to him and began doing your own. he didn’t spare you a look and just carried on with his work. you spent a few hours completing them, and both of you got it done at the same time. as you got up to gather your things, you spoke to the boy beside you.

“renjun, do you have anything to do after this?”

“no.”

“there’s this new diner that just opened up nearby. do you want to check it out? my friends have prior commitments, and i wanted to make it up to you for spilling your coffee earlier.” you already knew he was going to refuse, but it wouldn’t hurt to still ask.

“sorry, i’ll have to pass. i need to get home quickly.” you nodded in understanding and smiled at him.

“no biggie. take care on your way home!”

“thanks,” he simply said before leaving.

“so, what's the deal with you and y/n?" jaemin asked in a teasing tone. "any progress? are you going out already?” renjun scowled.

“shut up. i want her to back off, honestly.”

“you want everyone to back off.” jaemin pointed out.

“yeah, but most especially y/n.”

jaemin's eyebrows knitted together. “uh, why do you sound so annoyed with her?”

“because she's annoying. i turned her down multiple times, but she can’t take a hint. nothing’s worse than someone who forces themselves on others.”

“relax, man. aren't you being a bit harsh? you’ll see that she’s nice if you give her a chance.”

“what exactly is nice about her being fixated on me? this is mostly your fault, you know. if you guys weren’t such busybodies, she wouldn’t be so pushy.”

you quietly slipped away, making sure they hadn't noticed you. a single tear rolled down your cheek before you could stop it. it wasn't every day you heard someone openly express their dislike for you, and coming from the person you were supposed to like, it stung even more. you never meant to force yourself into renjun's space or push for a connection that clearly wasn't there. maybe it was time to face reality and let go of your feelings for him. it would be better for both of you in the long run to avoid any more awkward moments and misunderstandings.

renjun had grown accustomed to spotting you in your regular seat during your shared class. however, he was met with surprise when he noticed you had moved to a vacant seat considerably distant from your usual spot next to him. he was a bit confused at first, but chose not to dwell on it. he also noted that you didn't notice his entrance into the room, as you were engrossed in some task.

you continued to maintain a distance in your next classes with renjun. he was uncertain if you were oblivious to his presence or deliberately avoiding acknowledgement, given the lack of glances his way. he found it a bit strange that you refrained from initiating any form of interaction, but he didn’t mind. he thought he felt better. at least, for now.

however, renjun was not expecting your odd behavior to persist. it brought another surprise when you ignored him again the following day. even when your eyes accidentally locked for a second, you quickly averted your gaze. renjun wasn’t sure if you really didn’t see him or were just pretending not to. you weren’t wearing your glasses, and your eyesight wasn't the best. but even if you did ignore him on purpose, he didn’t mind… or did he?

it’s been a while since you stopped talking to renjun. at first, he thought he felt a sense of relief, thinking it gave him some space. but after a week, he was confused about why you suddenly stopped. the following week, he could feel his stomach churning seeing you leave class, secretly hoping you’d look back. then, the week after that, he felt a wave of anger because there were more than a few times he bumped into you purposely to get you to talk to him, but you did not utter any word other than a quiet apology. now, nearly a month later, he started to feel dejected because no matter what he did, you always acted like he wasn't even there. renjun wasn’t sure what he did wrong to make you so determined in avoiding him completely.

“renjun’s going through 5 stages of grief,” jaemin said with a smirk.

“what are you talking about?” haechan looked at him in confusion.

“y/n’s been ignoring him for a month.”

“WHAT? WHY?” jaemin shrugged.

“no idea. we’re not close enough for me to ask.”

“what about jeno?”

“he doesn’t want to pry.”

“maybe she got tired of renjun’s grumpy attitude,” chenle piped up.

“could be,” jaemin turned to the boy in question. “look at him, he’s miserable.”

“shut up,” renjun muttered in discontent.

“stop provoking him. it’s his first heartbreak,” chenle taunted, making renjun roll his eyes at their ridiculousness.

“you know you could just talk to her right? ask what’s going on?”

“if she wanted to talk, she would’ve reached out to me by now,” renjun said flatly. his friends could only shake their heads in disapproval.

“don’t be stupid.”

“and i’m begging all of you to mind your own business.”

“if you keep this up, you’ll end up in a situation you can’t fix.”

haechan nodded vigorously. “yeah, don't say we didn't warn you!”

you kept quiet about what you had overheard from renjun in the last month, choosing not to share the details with your friends. you figured they would eventually notice renjun's absence from your life, and when they finally asked you about it, you dismissed their probing questions. you casually informed them that your crush on him had simply faded after getting to know him better. you were quite good at making believable lies, they were convinced by it and dropped the topic quickly.

unexpectedly, renjun sought you out in an empty classroom to confront you about your sudden disconnection. you looked like a deer caught in headlights when you realized who had just entered, walking in long and quick strides to your direction. in your mind, you were already conjuring up excuses to explain yourself.

“why are you ignoring me?” his question broke the silence, leaving you with no room to escape.

so much for attempting to evade this confrontation.

you took a moment to gather your thoughts, unsure how to respond. you tried to conceal your distress as renjun stared down at you while waiting for you to talk. it seemed like he was determined to stand his ground, expecting you to tell him the truth. with a frustrated sigh, you finally spoke up.

“i’m just staying out of your way,” you said after a moment of silence.

“yeah, so why?” his voice was demanding, it ticked you off a little.

you questioned why you were initially afraid of renjun confronting you and why you bothered coming up with excuses. after all, it wasn't his place to interrogate you when you were simply doing what he seemed to want from the start.

“i don’t know why you’re asking. isn’t that what you want? you should be happy.” you began to gather your things so you can leave, but you heard him speak again.

“i never told you to avoid me. if you have a problem with me, just say it.”

“you're right, you never told me directly. you just told other people.”

“what are you talking about?” you turned to face him.

“renjun, i don’t get you. you push me away, you're openly annoyed by me, and you tell everyone you want me gone. now that i’m doing exactly that, you’re still upset with me? what’s your problem?”

renjun ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident. “stop speaking in riddles and just tell me what's going on."

“fine. last month, i was passing by the library and i overheard you talking to your friends. you were complaining about how i couldn't take a hint and how you wanted me to leave you alone.” renjun looked a bit puzzled at first. when you were about to walk away, his eyes widened in realization.

“no, y/n, i’m so sorry. i didn't really mean what i-“ you shook your head lightly.

“don’t be. you were completely right, and i’m not even angry about it. i just don’t want to do anything with you anymore.”

“please, listen," renjun said, his voice urgent. "i blurted out those things in the heat of the moment. i regret it, especially now that i know you heard what i said… it's just- it’s not how i really feel about you."

“it’s okay, renjun. i didn’t tell you all of this to get an apology. i’m only telling you why i’m doing what i’m doing, like you asked, and to make it clear that i’m done.” as you turned to leave, renjun stepped in front of you, blocking your path.

“hear me out, alright? i was being overly sensitive back then. my friends were pushing my buttons, and i didn't know how to handle it so i lashed out. i treated you unfairly and you didn’t deserve any of that. a month without you made me realize a few things. i had to confront what i really want and face some truths i'd been avoiding."

he paused, studying your face before continuing. “i miss spending time with you, y/n. and... well, i realized i've got feelings for you, more than i thought. it never crossed my mind that you'd actually distance yourself and it hit me hard. the idea of losing you if you choose to walk away made me lose my mind.”

your heart raced as he spoke, and his confession stirred up a mix of emotions. your confusion lingered, but you decided to reason through it, pushing aside the sincerity in his eyes as you gave him a skeptical look.

“are you… getting your feelings confused with something else? did you consider that maybe your mind is playing tricks on you and making you think you like me because you're used to others chasing after you?”

renjun winced, trying to ignore the implied criticism. it was a struggle for him to open up about his feelings, only for the girl he liked to question it and suggest that he couldn't understand his own emotions.

“i wouldn't be here asking why you've been avoiding me and opening up like this if i hadn't thought it through." he said quietly. "it might be hard to believe right now, but if you give me a chance, i can prove it to you."

“i don’t think this is a good idea,” you said, watching his face fall. he felt lost, trying to find the right words to convince you. taking a deep breath, he gently placed his hands on your shoulders, meeting your eyes.

“please, just give me a chance to make things right. i feel like i've wasted so much time.” the desperation in his voice was clear. still skeptical, you removed his hands as they fell down to your arms.

“i’ll think about it,” you said, turning to walk away, leaving a lingering sense of uncertainty in the air.

renjun’s friends had been observing him for a few days, and he’s become unusually quiet. they contemplated asking him what’s wrong, but they wanted to give him some space. it was glaringly obvious that something was bothering him, and he didn’t want to talk about it. jeno couldn't help but express his concern.

"renjun, you've been awfully quiet lately. everything alright?"

"yeah, i'm fine. just dealing with some stuff." jeno and jaemin exchanged knowing glances.

"we're here whenever you're ready to talk." jaemin assured, patting his back.

he had been feeling down since your conversation days ago. your words had been weighing on his mind and creating an internal turmoil. the fact that you continued to ignored him in all your classes didn't offer much comfort. renjun couldn't help but cast a longing look in your direction whenever he saw you. he wondered if there was a way to make things right, or if he had to live with the consequences of his past actions.

meanwhile, his confession has been replaying in your mind. the idea of him reciprocating your feelings caught you off guard; it was something you never saw coming. after some contemplation, it became apparent to you that renjun really felt apologetic and was filled with remorse. could it be that he genuinely likes you? even if that was the case, you're still unsure whether it's the right move to start something with him.

maybe i should stop overthinking this.

you took a deep breath before releasing a loud sigh, unaware that the boy who had been occupying your thoughts, stood right in front of you.

“y/n,” you looked up to see renjun. you waited for him to speak, but it seemed like he was having a mental struggle, debating whether to say what was on his mind. he mustered up the courage to ask if you were willing to give him a chance. staring at him with an unreadable expression, he didn't know how to interpret the situation. was it a bad time to talk?

“why?” you finally asked. although renjun was hesitant, he answered.

“i was wondering if you already thought about what i said? i mean… i can wait if you need more time.”

“if i say no, are you going to leave me alone?” your heart sank a little when his face fell.

he took a moment before responding. his voice barely above a whisper. “if that’s what you want... i guess i would have to."

“renjun,” you said, causing him to look up.

“yeah?”

“let’s give it a try.” his expression became hopeful.

“really?”

“yes," you nodded. "you said you liked me back, i'm choosing to believe that for now. just... don't let me down."

“i won’t," he promised, a smile slowly spreading across his face.

before you could react, renjun pulled you into a warm embrace. you found yourself returning the hug, allowing yourself to relax in his arms.

"thank you for giving me a chance," he murmured, his words muffled against your hair but filled with sincerity.

“i’m happy for them, really," giselle said, eyeing you and renjun across the room. "but watching those two make heart eyes at each other is sickening."

chenle snorted. "this is nothing. you should see renjun at the dorm."

the group's attention snapped to him. "oh?" karina prompted.

“let's just say personal space is not in his vocabulary anymore."

“huh… i would've expected y/n to be the clingy one."

“yeah, no. but i guess it makes sense, considering how he acted before."

giselle and karina exchanged amused glances, intrigued by the dynamic between you and renjun.

"amazing what a change of heart can do," jaemin mused.

karina nodded, a hint of approval in her voice. "guess he learned his lesson."

the group watched you and renjun for a moment longer, a mix of amusement and fondness in their expressions. it was clear that renjun had undergone a significant change in the way he acts toward you, transforming his initial aloofness to this new, affectionate version of himself.

“i have the dorm to myself this weekend.” renjun said, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

you raised an eyebrow. “and what exactly are you suggesting?”

“you know…” he trailed off, his look suggestive.

“i’m studying for finals," you replied flatly.

“exactly. i find myself more productive when i’m with you.”

“right. because we get so much done when we study together."

“don't you want my hugs and kisses?” he pouted.

“not when i’m trying to pass my classes.”

“i'll behave, i promise.”

“you always say that. i don’t believe you anymore.” renjun's pout deepened. cute.

“maybe i wouldn't be so clingy if you paid more attention to me. you’re always busy, you don’t have time for your boyfriend.”

“renjun, unlike you, i have to put in extra effort to get good grades. i’m not as smart as you are.”

“excuses.” he mumbled.

you rolled your eyes, but couldn't help smiling. “you’re so adorable,” you cooed, giving him a quick peck. “i never imagined you to be the clingy type.”

“baby, there's a lot of things you don’t know about me.” he said, his voice lowering.

“oh? like what?”

he leaned in close. “like how great i am with my hands."

your eyebrows shot up. "is that so?"

“yeah. apparently, i give one heck of a shoulder massage,” he finished with a grin.

you burst out laughing at his endearing silliness. the sound of your laughter made renjun pause. he watched you, a soft smile spreading across his face. suddenly, he felt an overwhelming surge of happiness. taking your hand gently in his, he pressed a kiss to your fingertips, capturing your attention and prompting you to look at him.

"you make me feel the happiest," he said softly. "i love you."

your heart skipped a beat, the euphoria of hearing those three words from him for the first time washing over you. it hit you then - this unexpected journey with renjun had led you somewhere you never imagined. he, too, held the key to your happiness.

“i love you too," you whispered back.

you closed the distance between you two and your lips met his. as he wrapped an arm around your waist, you let yourself fall to his embrace, deepening the kiss.

renjun was met with the realization that while you fell for him first, he descended later, but with an intensity that surpassed a thousand falls.

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squishytenya · 8 months ago

Note

Hey Do you remeber your Tenya and Aizawa ask, with y/n Crying? What about some of the other casts like Katsuki or Ejiro?

if you dont mind please and thank you

They Make You Cry Headcanons

I lowkey had to search my own blog for this but I found it! thanks for the request <3

Pairings - Bakugou x gn!reader, Kirishima x gn!reader + Kaminari x gn!reader

Warnings - arguments, cursing, crying

Katsuki Bakugou

▹part of being in a relationship with Katsuki is dealing with his harsh personality. Even if he does calm down the older he gets, it's still probably not to the same extent of a normal human being.

▹he probably would be completely speechless the moment you started crying after an argument - straight up would not know how to respond to that.

▹his eyes would go wide and he would go to take a step towards you and then bring himself back, holding his arm to himself.

▹"hey... don't do that"

▹for all his faults Katsuki is, deep inside, a good person and he knows this is the kind of shit you lose relationships from and he really really doesn't want to lose you.

▹ but he does know he can be a bit much and he probably takes a while to come down from whatever he's feeling so he just kinda leaves for a few minutes

▹ he comes back with a cup of tea and perches gently on the bed next to you, avoiding eye contact

▹he would do his best to spit out an apology, but it's not something that would come naturally to him. Seeing your face crumple like it did is still replaying in his mind and he knows he has to fix this somehow - so he does his best to explain himself

▹eventually he would just stop rambling and take your hand in his, squeezing it gently.

▹"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that to you"

▹ he'd just sit by you, hand in his until you were ready to talk to him and talk over what had led to the argument in the first place and he really does take your words to heart about what upset you

▹he'd try to cut down on raising his voice and try to cut out teasing nicknames entirely, unless he knew you were okay with them already

▹a sweet guy really

Eijirou Kirishima

▹I cannot see Kiri upsetting you on purpose, even during an argument he isn't the type to yell or get super angry with you

▹him making you cry is most likely a complete accident on his part, or even him accidentally playing into an insecurity you have without properly thinking about it

▹when your relationship first started out, I think he probably didn't understand you might not be comfortable with the things he's comfortable with, especially during social situations

▹ also probably doesn't understand others might read his kindness as flirting, so when you two are invited to a hero party to socialise and he pretty much ignored you the whole night, he had no idea why you began tearing up on the way home

▹obviously, he's worried about why you're crying and what he did! and how he can fix it is at the forefront of his mind almost immediately after noticing

▹and when you explain it to him, he pretty much crumbles straight away - he is in disbelief that he made you feel that way

▹he falls over himself explaining that he didn't mean to make you feel that way, he was just overwhelmed by the pressure of hero society and got caught up

▹Kiri is very good at admitting when he is wrong, and puts a lot of effort into having healthy communication in his relationships - platonic or otherwise

▹pulls over the car literally just so he can hold both of your hands in his and make eye contact as he explains his actions, specifically so you understand he's being genuine

▹"I'd never do that to you on purpose, you're the most important person to me"

▹after your sniffles have subsided, he pulls you into a hug and promises never to do something like that again - and you bet he keeps his promise!!!

▹takes you to get food too, just as an extra apology and you sit in the car park eating ice cream together - he makes sure you're the center of his attention the entire time <3

Denki Kaminari

▹oh he's so stupid. he's so lovely, but so, so stupid.

▹honestly he probably says something insanely embarrassing in front of your friends and pays no attention to how that might make you feel, especially if you're close to these people

▹doesn't even notice when the room goes completely silent and nobody is talking but him, it takes one of his friends clearing their throat for him to notice your eyes filling with tears

▹in his defense, he does try to explain himself straight away and takes you into another room to have the conversation (at the very least) but it takes a little bit more explaining to him why his actions would upset you

▹doesn't really get it at first but you explaining, and your face as you cry, makes his heart hurt and he tries to rectify his actions as soon as he can

▹the first thing he thinks to do in that moment is bundle you up in his arms and rock the both of you back and forth to calm you down, which works a little more than you'd like to admit

▹runs his hands over your back, up and down, until your breathing evens out - does not give a shit about anyone outside of you two in that moment

▹once you've stopped crying, full on apology - hands and knees!

▹he seems genuinely heartbroken to have embarrassed you and takes full responsibility for what he did

▹ kicks everyone else out of the house and spends the rest of the evening making it up to you and reminding you of how important you are to him and just how sorry he is

I hope these were good! I haven't written in ages so this'll be the first comeback headcanons, hope you guys enjoyed it <3

#bnha imagine #bnha x reader #bnha headcanons #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou imagine #kirishima x reader #kirishima imagine #eijirou kirishima imagine #kaminari x reader #kaminari imagine #denki kaminari x reader

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seeingivy · 9 months ago

Text

heart to heart

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friend's (older brother) fic

previous part linked here

sukuna realizes that he’s falling in love with you on the anniversary of his grandfather's death. it’s rather morbid, but he deems that it’s fitting.

the more that he lingered on it, the more he realized it. that family – good and bad – was always going to hum in the background to the two of you. though he supposes that’s just because you grew up together, that somehow you were intertwined in all of each other’s firsts.

first day of school, first basketball game, first funeral.

the day itself isn’t one that sukuna likes to dwell on – a memory colored dark, pushed so hard into the deepest, darkest spots of his mind, that sometimes he only realizes the day has passed a week after the fact. regardless, whenever the realization comes to a head – on time or not – the regret is so suffocating he can barely breathe.

it’s why he makes every effort to avoid you when the day comes to pass. it’s something that he does with everyone – ignore them like he has the plague. but it’s a little bit different when it comes to you. it’s not personal, he muses, but at the same time, it most definitely is.

you’re central to the memory.

sukuna’s sitting up, an idle text being sent to both yuuji and his mom, when the knock on the door comes. and he can feel pressure increase in his throat at the sight of you – his brain feeling heavy, this time in a different way – as you balance two mugs in your hand.

if it was any other day, sukuna would have found it very difficult to contain himself. the messy bedhead, glasses perched on the edge of your nose, and the fact that you’re drowning in one of his dress shirts.

sometimes he wondered if you did it on purpose. tried to rile him up just to see how he would react. though on second thought, he almost knows for a fact that you hardly understood what exactly it was that you did to him. how you made his skin feel like it was on fire.

you sit across from him, setting both of the mugs down on the nightstand, before you press your fingertips to his collarbone and push him back on the headboard to use his body as a pillow. you can hear a scoff before sukuna’s hands tangle around your waist, his fingertips ghosting the waistband of what he recognizes as his boxer briefs.

“you know, part of your whole freeloading in my apartment agreement was that you’d steal my shirts. not my underwear too.”

you poke his chest.

“freeloading? need i remind you, that you basically beg me not to leave each time i’m here. and i’m sorry. i spilled the first batch of hot chocolate i made all over my pajamas and my spares are in the laundry.” you state.

hot chocolate.

sukuna knows for sure that you must be doing that on purpose. and that maybe you watch him as keenly as he watches you, because you catch on to his discomfort just as fast.

“i’m sorry if it’s too much.” you whisper.

you watch his adam’s apple bob in his chest, as he leans his head back against the headboard and shuts his eyes. you trace little stars into his skin, right under the tattooed flesh as you try to talk, as softly as possible.

like he’ll run off if you push too hard.

“sukuna. i-i know that this day can be hard. but we can do whatever you want today.”

“i have work.” he states.

“no, you don’t. satoru told me you took the day off already. that you always take it off. and suguru asked me to take care of you.”

sukuna rolls his eyes. idiots.

“what about yuuji? knowing you two, you’ve probably got some whole orate tradition you do. probably use my headshot as a dartboard.”

“it’s actually your yearbook photo.” you defend.

sukuna smiles.

“megumi and nobara have got him covered. i’m here for you.” you state.

sukuna looks down at you, before quickly looking away. he can’t stand your eyes.

“s’just another day, y/n. if anything, you should get the fuck out of my house. make sure my sensitive brother is fine.”

sukuna watches your eye twitch. he feels bad, but swallows it down.

you lift your hands up to cup the sides of his cheek, lightly rubbing your thumbs under his eyes until they open. his light brown eyes flicker to yours and the message comes off just as he intends it.

don’t.

sukuna should have known you’d be stubborn about it.

“sukuna. s’not really fair if we have a power dynamic.”

“i’m two years older than you. you are well of age.” he deadpans.

“i mean. when i tell you about what’s on my mind – insecurities or-or my fights with yuuji or even mazzy – it’s not just spilling out of me because you’re my boyfriend. like i’m so emotional that i rant about my problems to everyone. it’s actually more natural for me to put it away. and i purposely don’t for you.”

sukuna’s intrigued.

“i’m trying to do this right. like, not withhold things from you because i know that you would hate that. the same way that i would hate it, if that’s what you were going to do with me.” you respond.

you rest your cheek against his collarbone, before bending down to press a kiss into his skin.

“s’not a nice feeling. the conversations we have make me feel like i’m standing naked in front of a classroom on display sometimes. but it’s –” you start.

“that sounds like an ideal situation to me.”

you pinch his bicep.

“i mean. it’s not always easy to feel so bare. but i know it’s the right thing to do. and you kind of have to let me in too. i know it might not seem like that to you, because you fell into the caretaker role so quickly with me, but – i’m usually the one who does that type of thing, with everyone else. and i’m not half bad at it.”

sukuna watched you take care of yuuji his whole life. in the moments that sukuna wasn’t there, he knows that you were the one sitting at his side. especially when he took off so fast like he did.

it’s partly the reason that he was able to do it. because he knew that yuuji would be taken care of – and well, too. but it almost feels wrong, too immature of him to go to you with his problems.

how are you ever supposed to come to him again?

“c’mon, baby. anything you want today. we can go back home and eat at the diner. or go to his grave. stay in the entire weekend…” you hum.

it’s the first time that sukuna’s ever heard you use a term of endearment on him. he was never short of them, a constant cycle of his favorites – pretty girl, doll face, angel. it almost seemed wrong to call you by your name at this point, not when he could so openly express his affections and watch you smile at the fact.

but sukuna likes it more than he wants to. being called baby. he never wants you to say anything else again.

he always thought it was a little stupid, an infantile or immature nickname when he watched satoru call suguru as such. especially the way satoru always seemed to beam whenever he did it. he’ll be sure to swallow his retorts the next time.

“i want to go to the sushi place. back home.” he states.

you scoff.

“oh my god. i went on my first date there. got felt up near that fountain.” you respond, scrunching up your nose.

“i got a handjob near that fountain.” sukuna states.

“ew. don’t tell me you….in the fountain?”

he only grins in response.

“ew, sukuna! you’re such a dog.”

“i’ll have mai bring me a nice dress. we’ll go the whole ten miles on a fancy date, like everyone from high school. if you’re lucky, i might even let you touch my butt.”

“could i be so lucky?” he asks.

you pinch the side of his cheek. his response is pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“do you have a pink dress?” he asks.

“sure do. i’ll have her bring that one, okay?”

sukuna drives you to the sushi restaurant. the ride into town is quiet. you’d almost think that sukuna was mad at you for pushing, but his warm hand resting on your thigh silences almost all the qualms in your head.

when you make it there, the mere fact of being there with sukuna leaves you with an odd thought. that if things were different beforehand, you would have been fifteen standing there with him, instead of leaving the restaurant feeling oddly dissatisfied from a guy who really wanted nothing to do with you instead.

“sukuna. party of two.”

“it’ll just be five minutes.”

sukuna gives a kurt nod before dragging you to the other side to lean against the wall, his hand warm on your waist. you pick your brain at the best thing to say – his uncharacteristic silence brimming you with anxiety and making you particularly hyper-vigilant in choosing the right thing to say to him.

"you're beautiful, you know that?" he whispers.

you fight the urge to smile so hard.

"thank you, sukuna. you're beautiful too."

he glares at you.

"you're shitty."

you smirk, before pinching the side of his cheek. of course that was his reaction.

"you're such a cutie pie little baby sometimes I just wanna-" you coo.

"shut the fuck up before I make you." he responds.

"ooh. so scary!"

“i came here for the first time with my grandpa. i'll even tell you about it if you stop being a little bitch for a second.”

you stop.

“yes, sir. ” you respond, saluting.

sukuna smiles in response and it makes your heart skip a beat. that and the fact that you swear you've never seen his eyes so soft.

“so basically –” sukuna starts

“sukuna, y/n? is that you?”

you look over to your left to find one of your old neighbors – so old that you can barely even remember his name – standing at your sides, excitedly waving at the two of you.

“god, it’s been years! you two are so grown now.”

“mr. soma.” sukuna responds.

you find yourself grinning ear to ear at the fact that one, sukuna’s tone is entirely displeased. and two, that there’s no pleasantry laced in with his words.

“y/n. how is your dad? i haven’t seen him around in a while.”

the taste in your mouth is metallic.

“couldn’t tell you! i haven’t seen him either.” you state.

his face pinches up, the pitiful expression that follows causing a subsequent clenching of your jaw.

“sukuna. how’s your father?”

“still a dick.” he states.

you smile. the way he seems to flinch at the bluntness, at sukuna’s demeanor, is solace enough for the double dose of shitty dad comments. he gives you both a polite smile before skirting off, after an awkward round of small talk. university, work, yuuji and sammy and he's off.

you turn to sukuna, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“you okay?”

“obviously. a dumbass with a shitty attitude won’t ruin my mood when i’m here with you. are you?”

“me too.”

sukuna smirks at you.

“really? you're not internalizing every awkward experience that happens to you? have i entered a parallel universe today?”

“i’m a mystery, idiot. you can spend forever trying to figure me out.”

“planning on it.” he responds.

sukuna splits all his sushi with you. if you like a certain plate, he almost refuses to touch it afterwards, just to let you finish all the pieces. and after you say you’re too full, he’s does the job for you – only because you say that you feel bad leaving it to waste when they took the time to make it.

it’s strawberry ice cream afterwards and he makes it very clear that it's only because it’s your favorite. you swing by the store when you get back into the city and eat straight from the tub on the kitchen island.

and over your shared spoon of dessert, sukuna’s voice is almost so quiet you can barely hear it. you think that the ice cold sensation curbs any warm anxiousness that would stop him normally from talking – and you thank your cravings for it.

“my grandpa was the first person who took care of me.”

you press your cheek to his shoulder in response, rubbing circles into his palm as he talks.

“I know it's a natural thing. that when you have a younger sibling, that it takes the attention away from you. i know logically that i had that attention, that i required it when i was a baby too.”

"but?"

"but yuuji's so fucking likeable. i love the idiot and it feels like shit to admit, but i fucking hated that everyone almost forgot about me just because of him."

you pause.

“it’s hard not to like you too.” you state.

“but you know what i mean. i liked taking care of him, until i didn't. he got older and...and sometimes it felt like he didn't even fucking care about half the things i did for him. at one point, i got sick of watching everyone fawn over him so much that it made me upset. i told my mom but...you know how she can be. didn't really register for her. ”

you hum in response.

“my grandpa must have noticed that i had a little bit of resentment towards him, especially when i was in eighth grade. started getting in fights and acting out and all that. and he brought me here. and-and i was pissed at him that i just started fucking yelling at him. about how he didn’t care about me and how i felt unwanted and under-appreciated and…and he agreed with me.”

he pauses, bringing one of his hands up to your hair.

“i like feeling appreciated. valued enough that someone will listen to me and actually believe it. that he wanted to be around me too.” he states.

you pause, your heart clenching so hard in your chest. your stomach nearly drops at the sentiment, at the memory that you can feel tears in your eyes. you’re murderous hatred for sukuna and yuuji’s dad only grows tenfold with every consecutive day – but feels particularly potent now.

you immediately tilt your head up, in efforts to curb yourself from crying – when you’re the one who should be strong for him right now. he, of course, notices right away.

“eh? what’s wrong with you?”

“allergies.”

“did you miraculously get stung by a bee in the past few seconds while we were sitting here?”

you scoff.

“you’re so obsessed with me. you even memorized my medical history!”

“that was in no way romantic. god forbid i know a basic fact about you so you don’t like, literally die on me. now tell me what it is. you basically have to because my grandpa is dead, you know?”

“are you really playing the dead grandpa card?”

“the fact that you called it that was fucking offensive. now you have to tell me.”

you roll your eyes.

“i was just thinking about that day. it makes my heart break that you lost someone who made you feel understood. that you felt alone, even though we were all right there. i hope you know that i find it hard to drag myself away from you sometimes. you're like the only place i want to be." you murmur.

the year before sukuna left, he got into fights often. you remember it vividly – the fact that his mom always seemed to be at your house crying to your mom, while you and yuuji lingered by the doorway for too long listening when you shouldn’t have.

and he’d shuffle in hours later, a purple eye or bloodied knuckles – a wall of silence with zero explanation.

but the worst part is that the one time he got in serious trouble, enough to constitute needing to be picked up from the police station, was cosmically the worst possible day it could have happened.

because sukuna’s grandfather was already dead when you guys got the call. you had all been phoning him for hours and unbeknownst to you, the reason he didn’t pick up is because his phone had gotten taken away. and his mom, yuuji – they were so struck in their own grief that your mom had taken you and sammy with her to go get him.

and now when you think of it – the thought of him sitting there all alone when you found him, the fact that he was sitting there feeling misunderstood made you cry. it was enough to know that you had all unleashed horrible news on him, but even worse to know you were the one to rip his grandfather away from his life.

“i remember that you were the one who told me.” he states.

you nod, affirming his memory.

“you…you were all quiet. was kind of expecting your mom to give me an earful, about being responsible for my mom and yuuji. but she was just quiet. sammy didn’t even look at me. and when i saw you, you were crying. came up right by my side and apologized. you were the first person to give me condolences. made me hot chocolate when you got home because you didn’t know what else to do.” he states.

“yeah. i wish i was more composed or…or could have at least said something better to you. and i still kind of suck with words but i…i hope this helps? at least a little?” you mumble.

sukuna leans forward, curbing any follow-up sentiment you could have had with his lips. you can still taste the strawberry. you murmur against his lips – him pulling you back in every time you try to pull away.

“did you kiss me to shut me up?” you ask.

“do you want a cookie for figuring that one out, genius?” he responds.

you lightly push his chest.

“you’re such a dickhead! let me do the whole supportive, caring girlfriend thing. i can’t just leave you hanging, you know.”

sukuna rolls his eyes.

“doll face.” he deadpans.

you glare at him.

“you are perfect.”

you’re caught off guard.

“i’ve never told anyone any of that before. never even met someone i’ve wanted to tell. quit fucking worrying yourself over whether or not it was good or bad. i’m half convinced that you could be my remedy to anything.”

you can feel the heat rushing to your cheeks at the praise. you bundle the fabric of his collar in your shirt before you pull him forward, pressing your lips to his as softly as you can.

“someone feeling bold today?” he murmurs against your lips.

his hand is warm on your face, cupping the side of your cheek. and when you lean forward, the warmth that surges through you is so deep that you think you might have kissed sukuna too hard. because now you’ve backed him up against the wall, your fingers quickly rushing down the buttons of his shirt.

sukuna’s quick to stop you. hands warm on your wrists and brown eyes widened.

“what are you doing?” he whispers.

“oh. oh, i don’t know. it…it just kinda came over me. sorry. just like..felt super close to you there for a second and i felt it like…rumbling in my chest.”

sukuna’s brings his forehead against yours. his eyes are pinched shut, almost straining, his breaths quiet.

“i want to do something. but you have to tell me if it’s going to make you feel uncomfortable.” you ask.

“okay.�� sukuna responds.

“don’t even think about fucking lying to me. i’ll know.”

"yeah right."

“i mean it.” you grates.

“just tell me.” he responds.

“okay, but-”

“y/n l/n.”

you pause.

“can you take a bath with me?”

he pulls back.

“what?”

“a bath. suguru gifted us these bath salt and stuff. he said it was a gift for you. told me you like that kind of thing.”

“he's always gifting some weird therapy shit to me.” he states.

"therapeutic." you correct.

“one day i’m going to curb your fucking attitude and you’re not going to like it one bit.”

you smile.

“i hate you. i’ll take my bath on my own then.” you respond.

he yanks hard on his arm.

“okay. if it's uncomfortable, we get out.”

you nod. you get in first, quickly leaing against the wall and hiding under the warm bubbles, as he follows suit. weirdly enough, sukuna's first instinct is to go to the other side, the farthest from you, but you stop by pulling on his wrist.

"c'mhere. just lean against me." you murmur.

it’s a little bit awkward at first. because sukuna's the one wound up instead of you.

“can you relax for me?” you whisper.

“right. sorry.”

he leans back, your skin prickling, as he settles his head against your chest. he's looking up at you, his eyes fixed on yours, but you can’t help but stare at his skin - freckles and moles that you’ve never had the opportunity to notice sparkling his skin.

“thank you.” he whispers.

“for?”

he scoffs.

“y/n.” he chides.

“use your big boy words!” you coo.

“shut the fuck up.”

“c’mon. you've got it in you.”

“you know what i want to say.”

“of course i do. i know you’re really glad that i have an innie belly button instead of an outie.”

sukuna nearly chokes on his spit.

“i beg your pardon?”

“i know that outies freak you out. you don’t have to say it.”

sukuna stops himself from saying it.

that he's falling in love with you.

it’s right on the tip of his tongue. but he knows that it’s too fast so he swallows it down. that and the fact that it would be fucking insane if he said that to follow up your stupid joke about inne and outie belly buttons.

“baby, we should really donate your brain to science. i think you could advance neuroscience fifty years into the future.” sukuna states.

“take that back, asshole.” you respond.

“make me.”

you yank hard on his hair, before fixing your hands back in his locks and pushing the matted wet hair off of his forehead. sukuna leaves a kiss in your hands, before he seems to wander off somewhere else, almost like he's deep in thought.

you grant him the quietness. sukuna loves you even more for it.

next part linked here

an: ICK CHAPTER BUT WHATEVER

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amjustagirl · 3 months ago

Text

Chapter 2

pairing: hoshina soshiro x f!reader

genre: romance, angst

wc: 2.7k

summary: you've loved soshiro since you were seven. he will always place his duty above you.

chapt 1 / chapt 2 / chapt 3 / chapt 4 / chapt 5

The first step in your mission to reclaim your heart back from Hoshina Soshiro is to ignore his texts.

// omg my blade got chipped in a fight // // daikaiju with a ridiculously hard shell // // so annoying!! // // hmph!!! // // fix it for meeeeee //

// !?!?!??!?!// // u still have indigestion???//

You really should’ve foreseen his sheer stubbornness though, considering the mountain of rejection he had to claw through to get to where he is. He springs a surprise visit on you, breaking into your lab without warning.

“Did you seriously ask me to fill in an official form for upgrades?” he demands, miffed.

“Record keeping purposes”, you lie through your teeth. “My boss is on my back.”

“Your boss?!” he repeats incredulously. “Aren’t you the head of your department?”

A department consisting only of three overworked blade specialists servicing the entirety of Japan’s Defense Force and private security forces, but he has a point. “Well, the auditors might run their checks, and how am I supposed to justify spending budget on reckless improvements that a certain vice captain demands -”

He slings an arm over your shoulder and a crackle of electricity zips up your spine. “C’mon, don’t be silly -”

You shrug him off, waiting nothing better than to run for the toilets to fan away the heat spreading up the column of your neck to the apples of your cheek. “Fine”, you acquiesce. “I’ll get to it - just, stop bugging me -”

He smirks, content at getting his way. “Great, now we can grab lunch. Food here’s so much better than on base -”

That, you can fend off. “Can’t”, you say. “Lunch with colleagues. And no, you can’t join, Hana-chan wants to cry about her ex, and you’ll make her uncomfortable if you’re there.”

He goggles at you. “Since when do you have friends besides me?”

“Always, you rude shit”, you say, though really, you’ve just been putting in more effort in being more social at work. “Now, get out.”

At last, he leaves, so you can reset your heart to its factory settings. You fix his katanas and send it back via courier, when previously you might have delivered it to the base yourself as an excuse to see him again.

The next step is to find something else to preoccupy you.

You sign up for pottery lessons on Sunday afternoons, which clashes directly with when Soshiro gets the majority of his time off. You aim to slaughter two birds with a single stroke, an excuse to avoid him coupled with a hobby for you that has nothing to do with him.

It comes naturally to you, since you’re accustomed to using your hands and handling heat to create things, even if it’s usually steel, not soft clay. But it’s different when you do it for fun, for yourself. Blades can be beautiful, but your focus when hammering at them has always been its function, not form, so it’s a welcome change to just create things for its beauty.

You make cups and bowls for your colleagues (now friends), a set of sake cups for your parents in a rust-red glaze. Your proudest creation is a tea set that you keep for yourself, displayed on the windowsill to remind you of a summer sky when it’s grey.

Even Yamamoto-san gets a little gift since you now consider him a friend, a stone pot for a plant he complained of having outgrown its home. He reciprocates next month with a plant for you, who he says needs a home. This you struggle with, not being born with a green thumb. You studiously research plant-rearing tips and plunk the monstera you are gifted with by your prized tea set, but it truly thrives when you bring another potted plant home. Pothos, at first, because they’re too-determined to live. Bird’s fern, for it’s graceful leaves. When you’re more confident, you top it off with azaleas, for colour, hydrangeas to match your tea set.

(not violets, never violets)

“Huh”, you stare at the jungle on your balcony “Even plants need friends, I guess.”

It’s still little too soon to put yourself out there on the dating apps and start searching in the radioactive waste pool of the Tokyo dating scene when your heart is still tethered to Hoshina Soshiro. Any willpower you have to stay away is shaken when you hear that Soshiro’s been assigned a numbers weapon, especially after hearing whispers in the lab that testing has been going terribly. You ask permission to be on base to watch one testing session yourself as a weapons technician. The Numbers Weapon 10 has a mind of its own, and it keeps clashing with Soshiro, causing their test results to be abysmally low.

“Will he be safe?” you question Okonogi-san, the overworked third base operations leader.

“If he doesn’t get his numbers up with the weapon, I doubt he’ll be allowed to wear it out on the field”, she shrugs.

You slip away before he’s released from testing grounds.

// did u srsly come to base // // and not say hi!?!??! // // i haven’t seen ur face in forever //

It’s the truth. Despite your pledge to carve out more space to live a life that yours, you make an exception, burning hours on a new weapon to match the volatile Numbers weapon that by all reports, only wants to be worn by Soshiro. Anyone who knows anything about Soshiro knows of his preference for twin blades, ‘cos it makes me look cool’, he jokes, so no one will anticipate a single katana as a backup weapon.

// ty for the katana // // it’s q cool // // ok, v v cool // // wld be cooler if you dropped by to say hi // // free this weekend? //

You take a train all the way back to Osaka to visit your parents instead, lest he take it upon himself to commit larceny by breaking into your apartment. You don’t put it past him, since he has the combination to your front lock - his birthday, that’s another thing you need to change.

“How’s Yamamoto-san?” your mother asks, none too subtly.

You know your parents are proud of both you and your older brother for following the family’s traditions, and you’re lucky they’re progressive enough to encourage it even in you, but they’re of the age where they’re starting to long for grandchildren. Your older brother’s wedding scheduled for next year should distract them for now, but they’ll soon look to replicate their success with you.

“He’s pretty nice, but I don’t think he’s the one”, you reply.

Your mother’s lips purse. “Are you still hung up on that Hoshino boy?”

You’re stung into silence, your mother’s directness catching you off-guard. She tsks at you, pouring you tea that’s bitter from being steeped too long.

“I’m not - that’s not -”

Her gaze is sharper than any blade you’ve ever made. “Don’t insult me by lying.”

“Ka-san. It’s hard but I’m trying to get over it- gods, it’s so embarrassing to say this aloud in front of my own mother -”

She sniffs imperiously. “Try harder.”

“Will do”, you reply dryly. “I’ll just walk into the nearest combini and pick up the first guy they have sitting on the shelf, shall I?”

She raps your knuckles with her chopsticks. “Don’t be insolent”, she clucks. “Hoshina Soshiro -”

“I know, ‘ka-san”, you interrupt, the wound still raw under its scabbing. “You don’t have to say it.”

“Hm.”

It’s too difficult to meet your mother’s eyes, so you’re glad when she bustles off to the kitchen. A plate is shoved under your nose, oranges, painstakingly peeled, apples, perfectly sliced.

“There’ll be mangoes if you come back next week”, your mother says.

“That’ll be nice”, you smile.

The next step is the hardest, the part you fear the most.

Soshiro insists on seeing you. There’s no excuse he accepts, not after forty two calls and unread messages. Initially you toyed with changing the combination on your front door to keep him out, but you’re certain he’ll stand outside and cause a ruckus until you let him in.

He’s waiting in your apartment when you return from class. “Okairie”, he grounds out, jaw set. “It’s nice to see you again.”

There’s no point running. He’ll catch up with you within seconds anyway.

You drop your bag of groceries on the kitchen counter. “It’s nice to see you too”, you reply, skirting around his palpable annoyance. “Are you staying for dinner? I can make curry rice - ”

“I wanna know why you’ve been ignoring me.”

You plaster on a smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about”, you hedge. “I mean, I’ve been busy at work, you’ve been busy at work - I’ve been picking up new hobbies -”

“Which I’d know, if you talked to me in the past three months -”

“I’ve really been too busy, haven’t had the chance -”

“Nonsense”, he scoffs. “Don’t think I don’t know that you dropped by base without saying hi -”

“Pretty sure you were too busy tussling with that new combat suit -”

“You didn’t even bother to lunch with me the last time I came to your office -”

“I was busy working on your weapon, which I don’t hear you complaining about -”

You stop short when he takes you by your shoulders. You smell coffee and steel, a scent that just so Soshiro, that it makes your heart forget to beat. He’s close, far too close that you can see the dying sun-gold illuminating the violet iris of his eyes. You squeak as he tips your chin up, calloused fingers so painfully gentle as he meets your gaze. “Are you sure we’re okay?”, he asks softly. “Did I do something wrong?”

Other than torturing your heart by being within your vicinity?

Shaking your head, you take a large step back. “All good”, you splutter, ears on fire.

He doesn’t give you a chance to hide, shouldering into your space. “Somehow I don’t believe you”, he pinches your cheek. “Spill it. Stop lyin’.”

The pieces of your heart are stitched together with fragile threads, but his presence makes your heart slam itself against your ribcage over and over again. You are powerless from stopping it from falling apart again.

“You can eat my entire tub of chestnut ice cream -”

“Stop tryin’ to distract me.” He leans in, almost nose to nose with you, the curve of his mouth so dangerously close to your lips that your heart chooses this precise moment to combust. “Tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it.”

Courage has never been your strong suit, but you owe it to Soshrio to be brave enough to be honest that it’s not him, never him that made you run and hide. It’s your traitorous heart at blame. Plus, you figure, when he turns you down, perhaps it’ll finally deprive your heart of any lingering hopes it harbours, so you can finally, finally reclaim ownership of your heart.

Your lungs claw for air.

“It’s not anything you did”, you whisper. “I just wanted more than what you probably ever thought to give.”

His brows pinch together in confusion.

“It’s just - I know you’re busy doing big things in the Defense Force and you probably never have time in between killing a million kaijus to consider anything outside of work, and I know that you’ve never given any indication that you see me more than just a friend, cos really, I know where I stand -”

“You’re rambling.” He shakes you. “You’re not making any sense.”

You close your eyes.

(plunge a knife into your chest, carve it out whilst it's still beating, still bleeding)

“I like you, Soshiro-kun”, you say. “Not just as a friend, in case that wasn’t clear enough.”

“Oh.”

It’s a simple word with exactly one syllable, but it does the job. He stares at you, slack jawed. His reaction twists the knife deeper into your belly. You clutch the counter for balance, prevent yourself from doubling over, spilling your guts on your kitchen floor. “I didn’t wanna ruin our friendship so I’ve just been kinda distant. I needed - I needed space. Just to get over it. I’m sorry if I worried you.”

He still doesn’t respond.

“Soshiro -”

He looks up and you read only pity in his gaze. “I’m sorry -”

Your hurt pride will not allow you to let him see you fall apart. “Can we attack that tub of ice cream now”, you interrupt. “We don’t have to talk about it anymore.”

“Right”, he says after a long pause, face carefully blank. “Ice cream.”

You spend the rest of the evening eating ice cream and decidedly avoiding his gaze while chattering away about everything and nothing at all, papering over any awkwardness in a desperate attempt to pretend you don’t care that you’ve just killed any chance you’ve had at keeping your friendship intact. He’s almost silent save for some mmhms and grunts to indicate he’s still listening, so unlike his usual talkative replate with a joke in hand. You too, cannot put up with this charade anymore, so you feign tiredness, just to cut this ordeal short.

“Stay safe”, you remind him. “Don’t get eaten by a kaiju.”

“Yeah”, he replies.

He doesn’t say seeya later, as he usually does. You’re unsurprised by that.

Your phone remains empty of any new messages from him.

In the initial aftermath, you drown yourself in work to overcompensate for your wandering mind and wishful heart. All tweaks to his weaponry are done purely through official channels, as you previously requested. He doesn’t even text you a thanks when you stay up working on changes to his blades. Not that you’ve ever felt entitled to his gratitude. It’s just your job - one that you’ve decided to take up because your seven year old self lost her heart to him, but really, that’s on you, not him.

There are no spontaneous lunchtime visits, not even when you make updates to his brother’s tech. He doesn’t drop by your apartment the next time he’s off-duty, nor he does ask you to accompany him to another overpriced dessert cafe, not even when the gingko trees in Tokyo turn yellow, marking the season for every store to have a mont blanc special which you know he’d be weak for.

This is good, you tell yourself.

It hurts less than you expected. Of course it splits open your stitched-closed wounds to hear him say in your face what you already knew, that Hoshina Soshiro will never love you, not in this lifetime or the next. You allow yourself a few lonely nights to wallow in self-pity, spend a weekend facedown on your bed, stifling your screams into your pillow. You might have lost your footing momentarily, slipped down a ravine of despair, but with a few weeks’ grace, you start to claw your way out of the ravine of despair.

You will find your footing, find a way to get over him, live a life without Hoshina Soshiro by your side.

You will. You will.

It will become easier. You find contentment sitting on your balcony by yourself as the evenings grow cooler, leaves catching in the breeze, a meal you cooked for yourself on your lap. You throw yourself headfirst into pottery classes, where all you focus on is the feel of soft clay melting into your hands. Between work, your hobbies and weekend visits home, you don’t give yourself time to think about anything or anyone else anymore.

Weeks pass.

You catch a glimpse of him on the office TV as you clock in for work. Though you almost always turn it off right away, lest your heart believe it can find its way back to him, you make an exception today when the TV starts to blare about some daikaiju appearing, one after another across Japan, the third division deploying to a location not too far away from you.

<don’t be eaten by a kaiju>

The building starts to shake.

You put your phone away. Your co-workers surround the screen, yelling about evacuations and contingencies. You start to head down towards the forge, determined to save as much of your handiwork as you can. Soshiro and the rest of the swordsmen in the Defense Force will need whatever you can save.

a/n: manga spoilers from the next chapt onwards, read at your own risk! also, am off riding in mongolia til the 20th - next chapter out after - pls lmk what you guys think in the meantime ;)

#hoshina soushirou #hoshina soshiro x reader #hoshina soshiro #hoshina x reader #kaiju 8

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prettyfastcars · 11 months ago

Text

cry, little girl | Lewis x Reader

Summary: You never got along with Lewis. Your mom and his dad were dating but you never considered him to be family. He was always just… too much. Too famous, too powerful, too perfect. You simply couldn’t compare. Even now as your blended family vacationed together, you tried your hardest to avoid him. But despite your best efforts, you could never ignore that burning, sizzling tension between you and your ‘stepbrother’.

Themes: stepbrother!lewis, smut, jealous!lewis, slight gaslighting, degrading kink,, possessive!lewis,

a/n: you don’t have to, but you may read part 1 here ;)

“What the fuck are you wearing?”

Your eyes widened in surprise. You almost messed up your perfect red lip at the sound of his sudden, annoying voice. Your mother’s boyfriend’s perfect son. Lewis.

You caught his deep, freshly melted chocolate brown eyes through the mirror above the sink. He walked into your space like he owned it. Well, technically this was his house.

You were in your bathroom, getting ready for a night out with a couple of people you had befriended since coming here recently. And he had the nerve to interrupt you.

You closed the lipstick and slammed it down on the counter before turning around to face him. Utterly annoyed. “I understand that this is your place and what not, but just because a door isn’t locked doesn’t mean you can walk right in whenever you feel like it.”

Lewis took a step forward, stopping at the wooden door frame. His voice lowered, deep, and serious, “I asked what the hell do you think you’re wearing?”

You gave him your best dirty glare. Fuck him for being hot. Braids tied into a little bun. Just the right amount of facial hair. Even dressed in comfy sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt he looked more put together than most people. Another reason why you hated him. The man just never looked bad. Ever. He always looked like he was on set for a photoshoot, even when he was just lounging indoors.

Ignoring his question, you said, “You can’t talk to me like that.” Then you turned around and grabbed the lipstick once more. “Watch your tone.”

“Yes I can,” He persisted, ignoring the rest of what you said. “Are you going out with someone?”

You didn’t miss the way he looked you up and down. You tried to ignore the way you felt warm under his stare.

“Maybe.” You said, purposely sounding like a brat to piss him off. “It’s none of your business, so get out of my room.”

He took another step forward, stepping into your little bathroom now. “It is my business if my little sis decides to go out wearing that.”

You frowned, turning around again to face him, “I’m not your little–,”

He cut you off, shamelessly staring at your exposed skin. “Go change. You’re not going out wearing that.”

You stared at him, surprised at this audacity. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” He said. “Go change. You’re practically naked.”

“Naked?” You sighed in disbelief.

Of course you weren’t naked. You turned to look at yourself in the mirror. Sure, it was quite a revealing dress. Mid thigh length, open back, thin straps, deep low cut, a risqué slit at the front. Okay… a little scandalous perhaps. But it was your favourite little black dress, perfect for a night out with new friends. Plus, you were a grown woman.

“Come on, it’s not–,” You stopped talking the moment you looked up and met his eyes through the mirror.

Lewis was closer now. So close you could feel his warm breaths fanning your exposed shoulder. But he wasn’t touching you yet. Still, your body instantly remembered all those times when you and him blurred the lines of what’s appropriate and what’s not.

“You’re going out with a guy?” He asked, looking all smug and confident, with enough distaste and bitterness to make you shiver despite the inches of distance between your bodies.

Under a spell by the look in his pretty eyes, you answered without putting up a fight, “No. I mean, not just one guy. A couple of people actually. I met them at the diner the other day.” You explained even though he didn’t ask. “We’re just gonna go get drinks at a bar, and then dinner.”

His tattooed hand felt like a fiery brand against your skin when he placed it at your hip. His metal rings were cold against your skin. A couple of his fingers brushing mindlessly against your skin, exposed by the slit at the front of your dress.

Oh fuck. It was such a simple touch but… fuck.

“Oh?” He leaned forward just enough so the fabric of his t-shirt brushed against your exposed back. You held back a whimper, and he smirked when he noticed. “So you’re going out with strangers dressed like this?” He accused. “Showing off your body like that?” His voice lowered enough that it felt like his chest rumbled with each word. “You need attention from men that badly, little sis?”

You gasped when he lowered his hand down your hip, touching more of your skin. His touch was warm, burning. You wanted more. Your head was already foggy, heartbeats echoing in your ears at the proximity. Like he was some psychoactive drug.

“That’s not…” You tried to argue. “I’m not… doing it for attention.” You said with a little frown, still watching him through the mirror.

He smirked. “Then why are you dressed like a little slut?” He asked, casually. His voice mean and commanding. “Hmm? Because I can tell you right now that every man who looks at you in that dress is only going to be thinking about how you’ll look with his cock inside you.” He brought his mouth closer to your ear, whispering dangerously. “Is that what you want, baby? You want every man to look at you and fantasise about fucking you the whole night?”

His hand wrapped around your neck faster than you could process it. You let out a gasp when he squeezed it just a little, making your heart race and your body tingle like it sensed danger.

“Is that what you want?” He asked again, “Because that’s what dirty little sluts want.” He whispered into your ear, tightening his grip around your throat a little more, “Are you a dirty little slut, baby?”

You whimpered quietly, “Lewis, please…”

His other hand drifted down until it slid past the slit of your dress. You moaned while Lewis hissed when he found out that you were wearing nothing but an excuse of a thong. “What’s this?” He taunted, fingers and cold rings pressing against your wetness through the flimsy material of the thong. “So you wanted random men to feel you up at the bar, huh? And you wanted them to find this?” There was that accusatory tone again.

His fingers tore the undergarment off of you in less than a second. Sometimes you forgot that he was a trained fighter and incredibly strong. You whimpered helplessly when he threw the torn material carelessly on the floor of your bathroom.

“It’s mine.” He growled into your ear, cupping you down there in between your legs. “If anyone’s gonna touch, taste, or fuck this pussy, it’ll be me. You understand, little sis?”

You nodded. Or at least tried to but failed given he was still holding you by the throat.

He smiled and rubbed a tattooed finger over your lips until you parted them. He slid a finger into your mouth, slowly moving it in and out, stroking your tongue and lips. “That’s a good girl.” He cooed. “And you know what else good girls do?” He stared into your eyes through the mirror, occasionally looking down to where his finger basically slow fucked your mouth. “They don’t go out dressed like little sluts and let strange men look at them.” He whispered.

You could only whine as his finger in your mouth moved in sync with his fingers in between your legs as they circled your clit, spreading your wetness around. You moaned around his finger as it stroked your tongue sinfully.

He couldn’t take it anymore. “Bend over the counter. Now.” He ordered. He removed his hands from you, nothing of his touched you and you trembled due to the absence of his touch.

The fog in your brain diminished just a little so you could think. Your mom and his dad weren’t home at the moment, and they wouldn’t be for some more hours. And you were beyond the point of no return now. Yet again. So, fuck it.

You lifted your dress up, revealing your legs, hips and thighs as you bent over the counter. You looked at him through the mirror. Watched how he looked at you with wild hunger in his eyes. Your eyes were teary, smearing your eye makeup around. Your red lip was, well, a smudged mess.

“Look at you.” Lewis whispered, his hands on each side of your waist, rubbing up and down along your hips, thighs, touching you however, wherever he pleased. “You’re gonna be an even bigger mess when I’m done with you.”

He leaned closer and your ass pressed against the front of his pants. You whimpered at the feeling of his thick, hard cock beneath the fabric, rubbing, grinding against your bare, soft, wet folds. Your warm gasps of pleasure fogged up the mirror like the sight of him standing behind your bent body fogged up your brain again.

His touch made you feel floaty. Like nothing else mattered in the world.

Lewis finally trailed his fingers down in between your legs and lazily traced along your slit. “So wet.” He chuckled, then his smirk disappeared. “Were you going to let another man do this to you? Hmm?” His tone was calm, but something about it was dark. “Would you let him touch what’s mine?”

“No,” You spoke softly, trying to grind your hips against his hand. “I… wouldn’t.”

He hummed, sliding a finger inside you and fucking your slowly with it. Like he did your mouth earlier.

You whined as he touched sensitive spots inside you, “Please Lewis…” You sounded just as desperate as you were.

“Please what?” He acted oblivious, looking at your reflection like he wasn’t being mean.

“Make me come,” You whispered, begging. “Please.”

He slid another finger inside you, stroking you so perfectly you were on the verge of tears again. “Do you deserve it?” He asked, “Talking back all the time, dressing up like a little whore, going out with strange men,” He listed all the sins he was going to punish you for, “Do you deserve it? Huh?”

You cried out when his fingers brought you right to the edge before sliding out of you.

“Fuck!” You whined. “Yes, yes! I’ll… I’ll be good,” You begged. “I won’t talk back, I won’t go out with people, I… I’ll be so, so good Lewis, please.”

He chuckled. “Aww, baby.”

Your heart raced when you watched him take his shirt off. The metal chains around his neck. The tattoos. The muscular chest, the huge fucking arms that looked like they could crush you. You watched those muscles move as he lowered his pants. You watched all that ink on his perfect skin… fuck, he was gorgeous.

You got impatient. You whimpered as you pushed your ass against him even more. Lewis smirked, grabbed you on either side of your hips before pressing the tip of his cock against your entrance, rubbing it up and down and around your hole but not pushing in yet.

You were burning with desire and lust. So much that you didn’t realise you had tears streaming down your face until he pointed it out. Dark tears, due to the eyeliner and dark eye makeup.

“Aww,” He cooed mercilessly, “Are you crying, little sis?” He couldn’t help the cocky smile on his face. “Is big brother messing with you? Hmm? Is he making you work for it?”

You whined in desperation. “Please...”

He scoffed, “My desperate little slut,” he murmured under his breath as he pushed himself slowly inside of you, feeling your walls tighten around him.

You whimpered as he filled you up, stretching you out as he went. He pulled out and thrust deep back into you, making you moan and gasp under him. You looked at him through the mirror and almost came just looking at the look on his handsome face.

Lewis reached out and grabbed your wrists, pulling them off of the counter and pinning them down at your lower back as he started rocking into you. Hard and fast, making your front bump against the cool counter each time.

“Only I get to touch you like this, you hear me?” His voice was raspy. “You only spread these legs for me, do you understand?”

“Yes...” You whimpered as he pounded into you.

He tightened his grip on your wrists as he fucked you harder, feeling your walls clenching tighter around him. He slammed his cock harder into you, making your eyes water even more. He thrust so deep into you that it felt like you would simply split in half.

You gasped for air, fogging up the mirror even more. Lewis’ groans and moans echoed around the room, making you whimper at the sound of them. He sounded so good. So in control. Just so good.

Then he grabbed you by the back of your neck and pulled you up. Your bound wrists were the only thing between your bare back and his chest. “Give me that mouth,” He whispered before turning your face to the side and kissing you hungrily.

Lips, teeth, tongue – all of it. He messed up your red lip even more but you didn’t care. You feared you might come too early with a kiss that hot.

“Fucking little tease,” He whispered against your wet, open mouth. You still gasped in pleasure as he kept fucking into you. “It’s all you’re good for, isn’t it? To be fucked like this. Like you’re my little slut.”

Then he let go of your wrists and neck, pushed you down, bending you even more over the counter as he grabbed your thighs and parted them further so he could fuck you deeper.

“Lewis…” You gasped, “I’m so close…” You whimpered as you watched him fucking you from behind. The sight of him so focused, looking down to see his cock disappear into your body each time, that look of authority on his face… gods.

“You feel so good,” He murmured, looking down at you. “So fucking good… I’m gonna lose my mind if I ever see another man touching you, you hear me?” He spoke, pounding into you relentlessly while his fingers teased your clit. “This is mine, you’re mine.”

“Yes…” You whined as you felt yourself getting so close to the edge again as he pounded into you hard and fast. You watched your reflection and another hot tear slip out of the corner of your eye as you felt the pressure in between your legs getting too much.

Lewis felt it too, as your walls clenched violently around him. “Fuck,” He growled into your ear, “Come for me, my little slut. Come all over this cock…”

You didn’t hear the rest of what he said because you came with a loud cry. Lewis followed shortly after, coming undone while buried deep inside you, gripping your hips to keep you in place. You could already feel the bruises his touch would leave behind but you didn’t care.

You fell forward onto the counter, catching your breath and preparing yourself to look at your reflection which would surely be a mess. Your makeup and plans for tonight now ruined.

Lewis caught his breath too, his hand lazily rubbing up and down your back. “Come on,” He said, sighing in bliss and relief while he fixed his hair, “I’ll run you a bath.” He smacked your ass, making you yelp in surprise before he turned around and walked towards the large tub. “Can’t have you limping in front of our parents tomorrow morning.”

Asshole.

part 3

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton au #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine

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thequietkid-moonie · 1 month ago

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Trying to let their darling be happy with someone else

[ HEADCANONS ] [ Aventurine, Hanako, Nagisa, Ishida ]

[ Honkai Star Rail ] [ Toilet Bound Hanako-kun ] [ Assassination Classroom ] [ A silent voice ]

⚠️ Yandere, I don't support nor try to romanticize this toxic behaivor, is just for entretaiment

This is a bittersweer prompt, is like the yanderes trying to leave their darling free for their darling's sake, I thought it would be interesting to explore this posibility <3

Aaaalsoooo im writing for two yanderes I haven't wrote before! I wish you like them !!

Aventurine

Aventurine's love is an intense and burning feeling, it consumes him and make him desperate but at the same time give him a purpose and makes him keep going, he is well aware of his feelings and even knowing how unhealthy they can be but they consume him slowly so he can't really ignore them

As his feelings slowly grow there is nothing more Aventurine loves more than just watch you be yourself, interact with others and just have fun, he spend quite some time watching you from afar before deciding to get close to you, using his charm and flirtatious attitude to try to win your heart

He is not only aware of his feeling but also of yours, he wants so desperately for you to love him that he just can't not try to read you to see if he even has a chance, thats why if you seem interested in someone else he will notice, it will depend a little in how obvious you are but still he is smart enough to catch the hints. Even if he gets to know pretty quick he will be in denial for a while, he doesn't want to admit that you are in love with someone else but he can see you looking at that other person with love

Even if he just seems a little grumpy or try to avoid the topic with a smile in the inside he is a complete mess, going from desperately trying to deny that you like someone else to crying his heart out, repeating himself that of course you will love someone else since he doesn't deserve you, it will even reach the point where he just hates that person for stealing your attention from him

Insolated in the darkness of his room, Aventurine end up making a lot of plans and backup plans to take you away from that person and to win your affection, with his luck everything will go the way he wants it, he make up his mind, losing himself in the intensity of his feelings and the need of your love

Aventurine put in action his plan, trying to be more and more close to you, being extra friendly with you in hopes that you just forget about that worthless nobody and better look at him, while in the shadows he tries to put more and more obstacles in that person's way, trying really hard to set you two apart

But even after all his efforts Aventurine just freeze the moment he sees the two of you interacting, paying close attention of how you act, to those suble hints of your love, realicing how beautiful you truly are when you are in love but also about the fact that you haven't acted that way with him. After this Aventurine will probably watch you interact with that person for a while from the shadows, blessing himself with your beauty and precence but also torturing himself with the display of you affection towards someone else, slowly growing more and more envy and heart-broken

At the end, Aventurine decides that forcing you to stay with him when you love someone else would be unfair, he will keep trying to win your heart but will try really hard to set you free, even if he feels like his entire being is breaking and put him in an even worst state, if your feelings for that other person are corresponded then he will try really hard to let you be happy with that person

Hanako

It was really foolish of his part to fall in love with a human and Hanako knew it, but is not like he could stopped himself, ever since he have noticed you around the school you catched his attention, what lead him to slowly follow you and know more and more about you

For him it was just matter of time to become fascinated by you, he wanted to be close to you, to talk to you, he wanted to be selfish for once and be with you, to never leave your side, but no matter how much he wished for it he was still a supernatural, he had to ask for Yashiro's help to even be able to meet you in person, using the excuse of making your wish come true just to be able to have the excuse to glue himself to your side

Hanako has a stalker behaivor during school day, following you around all the time he can and just watching go with your day, sometimes even appearing just with the excuse to mess with you while in reality he is just following his burning desire to be as close as you as posible

It can be that Hanako just noticed that you have feelings for someone else when witnessing it by just following you around or that even the wish you went to ask for to him was related to that love, either way the realization makes him freeze in place and stare at you, for him is like the time has stoped just to dragg him to the cruel reality, a cruel reminder of his position, he is a supernatural, you two couldn't be together because he is already dead

Hanako tries to play off and put a teasing smile to cover up what he really feels, still when he finally finds out an excuse he quickly say it before leaving, and you wont be able to find him for days because he is just too heart broken to face you, he loves you, he want to be with you, he want you to love him too, but that is not going to happen, and he feels like an idiot for it

He spend quite some time reproaching himself for being so idiotic to fall in love, as intense of his feeling are for you is his now self hate for even falling in love. Hanako spend several days in his little cycle of despair, torturing himself with reproachings and constant reminders that this will never be, not when he is a not only a supernatural but also a murderer, why would you even love someone like him? it was just too idiotic of himself

Once he feels ready to face you again is when he finally have make up his mind that he just have to forget about what he fell for you because you deserve to have a great and long life, you doesn't have to lose your life like he did (let alone for his own selfishness), he have make it up in his mind that he will leave you alone to be happy with that other person, but the moment he sees you again, he sees you worried about his sudden disappearance and how you being worring for him for all this days that plan of leaving you be happy with someone else just broke under the weight of his feelings, he just loves you too much to lose you, he doesn't want to

Nagisa Shiota

Being in Class 3E makes every feel bad and unworthy, like idiots, and Nagisa isn't the exception, adding that failure feeling to his already bad self-esteem just make him feel even more unworthy of his darling, he is just a worthless no one while his darling is someone he look up to, someone more beautiful and valuable

Even if you were at class 3E Nagisa doesn't have the strength to talk to his darling, he just limits himself to watch you from afar, tortured by the inmense love that make him wish to just be able to at least talk to you, if only you look at him at least for a brief moment, but is also a constant remainder of how unworthy he is

Nagisa is incredibly smart and perceptive, for him is so easy to read thought his darling for how much attention he puts in you, he is able to be so close to you without being detected that he just memorized everything about you, so its not so dificult for him to notice that you have feelings for someone else but he feels like breaking down when he finds out, he knew he could never have a chance with you, he is nothing but the shadow of his mother anyways, and yet, deep down, he hoped that one day he could be able to have an oportunity, a really small ray of hope that kept him going, but now is gone

Even when Nagisa tell himself that he understand that you would love someone else that doesn't stop him from being in the edge and incredibly heartbroken, but also angry, he doesn't exactly know to who or what he is angry at but he is. Nagisa is clearly affected by this but wants nothing more than your happiness, so if your happiness is with someone else he will make sure that person is worthy of you, stalking the person you like to make sure they are good enough, the problem is that his anger just make him try really hard to find any reason of why that person is unworthy, anything can help (also, the more he trains in Class 3E the more confidence he gains, even if he still sees himself as unworthy he at least is better than that idiot)

At the end it would be incredibly dificult for someone to make him a good impression to let them be deserving of your affection, Nagisa doesn't even realice how possesive he can be and just cover up with the excuse of no one being worthy. However, this is a little tricky, because if he sees that this person makes you truly happy he will have a mental breakdown for the preasure of being stuck between wanting you to be happy and the others being unworthy, but in this way there are higher chances that he will accept his defeat (but will continue to stalk you two, waiting for that idiot's first mistake to take them away)

However, if the case is that you two are already friends then he will be less willing to let you go, it have took so much efforts to just even become your friend (and him to accept it since he stills feels quite unworthy) to just lose it for some idiot that wants to get in his way, since he slowly wins more confidence with the training and you have already accepted him in your life then he feels ready to fight for what he have with you now

Shoya Ishida

Despite the fact that Ishida is quite dependent of his darling he limits and hold back himself a lot, he feels unworthy and is so afraid that you would think as bad as he thinks of himself that he prefers to dont be close to you, but at the end, if you two end up being friends he will be watching over his every single move to make sure he doesn't make any mistake

For Ishida is incredibly dificult to really tell what his darling is feeling, he is constantly in the edge of his nervousness and anxiety and can easily misundestand things for the bad, you have to be clear with him, thats also why if you are interested in someone else it will take him a long time to understand it, as unworthy as he feels deep down he still wishes for you to see him in a good light, the thought of you loving someone else or even not giving him even the chance have cross his mind a few times but the moment he finally realice that you actually have feelings for someone else is going to break him completely

He is going to be a complete mess the moment he sees that you actually have feeling for someone else, after the initial shock Ishida will fall into a really bad depresive episode, his mind going around the idea that of course you will love someone else, why would you love an idiot like him? he haven't forgiven himself for what he have done to Shouko so of course he doesn't deserve to be happy with the person he loves, you'll probably think that he is a monster too when you find out what he have done

His mind goes back an forth between the self depracation and the constant reminder that he doesn't deserve you, you don't deserve to be stuck with someone like him after all. Its going to take a lot of efforts and even help from his friends to help him get out of this state, but even when he calms down the self-hate is back, and thanks to that he will not be able to even look at you because he wants you to be happy, wich he now believes isn't with him

But if you two are already friends the problem comes when you show that you were worried too, if you come to him asking if he is alright or just expressing relief or even happiness to finally see him again then his feelings will get over him again, this is what he truly wants, he wants your comfort and reasurance, and now that you are giving it to him Ishida can't just let you go like that, he doesn't want to lose this

If you show genuine and positive feelings for him, showing him that you truly care he will practically forget about the idea of leaving you go and go back to the feeling of wanting your forgiveness and aproval, but since there is someone who is treaten to take away, his precious ray of hope then he will try more and more to be of your liking, to make you look at him and love him instead of that other person

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 7 months ago

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aita for avoiding my husband on purpose, like, all the time? my husband (m36) and i (f34) have been married for almost 10 years (anniversary in a few months). we have 3 kids (m10, f8, f1) and he works full time while i stay at home. even before we got married i didnt really have friends other than him, and i always had a hard time finding excuses to get out of the house. frequently, he gets to hang out with his buddies who he also works with, and ever since we had kids he's always going out and leaving me home alone even when hes not at work just to idk. hang out at bars and pretend we don't exist. well lately ive been making time for myself to go out when the kids are at school (my youngest is pretty well behaved so i just take her with me instead of paying a babysitter) and i had managed to get kinda friendly with some of the wives of my husbands coworkers (theyre all members of the same union, so we see each other at those functions every once in awhile). i thought it was all going well and i was having fun and enjoying getting to be social for once, but about 2 weeks ago, the whole family was invited out for lunch (a picnic type thing) with his buddies from work's families. all was going well and for the most part even the kids were having fun, but then my husband got absolutely fucking trashed for no reason. none of the other guys were acting like that, and we've had conversations about him not doing that sort of thing, but he NEVER listens. he's always acting like this, but usually i dont have to see when its in public. well he embarrassed me so fucking much. he was trying to start fights, messing up his clothes, and wouldn't listen to me at all. just in his own world as always. i should've known because its been a decade of this, but i could have sworn it wasn't this bad before. he wasn't like this when we dated you know? so we got home and i was just. grossed out and annoyed. i slept on the couch and pretty much ever since then, i haven't been talking to him. i got a text from one of the ladies saying that a wednesday hangout thing i had been invited to had been canceled, but i pretty much KNOW 100% that it wasn't, and that they just don't want to be associated with me now. the kids don't really seem bothered by the tension around the house (i think its sort of normal to them since hes frequently not around anyways). i wouldn't be near as annoyed if there wasn't a part of my brain telling me "he did it on purpose". i know that's just how he acts but i could SWEAR its almost like he just doesnt want me to have friends. he doesn't want to hear about it, he just wants me THERE at home, watching the kids and existing solely for his convenience. i used to consider divorce, before we had our youngest. but i haven't had a job since high school, and i couldnt put the burden of asking for help on my sisters. they hate him, but i couldnt ask them for that support. and i dont even know what the kids would think, i cant do that to them. but yesterday, my husband brought it up (cornered me in our room pretty much) and asked why i was ignoring him. what if he really didnt know why? i TOLD him, but its like he forgot or just expects me to be "over it" by now. all i wanted was just this one thing, to HAVE FRIENDS, have that time away from being just "mom" and do what i want. he gets to do that so why cant i? or AT LEAST he could put some more effort into being around and doing things as a family? but i still wonder if im being the asshole, for giving him the cold shoulder for this long. he didnt have a happy childhood or good examples for parents so maybe he just thinks this is normal? i never asked because i assumed he knew it wasn't. and he does seem like, disappointed that i wont come to bed. maybe ive been driving him off and that's why he doesnt like to come home? idk at this point, im at a loss. aita?

#aita #am i the asshole

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littlestpetgoth · 11 months ago

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the big Tris post. here it is.

(originally i had it so that his parents were dead and he grew up alone, somehow surviving on his own and integrating himself into society, but that’s kind of ridiculous so i decided i'd scrap that narrative and make his experiences more human.)

for as long as tris has been alive it’s been noticed that his body has been capable of quickly recovering from any injury. as a child his scraped knees would smooth over by the next day, his paper cuts heal in instants, broken bones were better after a night’s rest. he was blessed with some kind of miracle that kept him safe from harm, it really helped his family save on medical bills, but as he grew older he started to see this blessing as more of a curse.

tris has always isolated himself, even at a young age. he purposely went to spots of the playground where no one else would play, ignored other children who would approached him, actively went out of his way to be alone. he doesn't like being around others and gets overwhelmed when forced into social situations. his overwhelming feelings sometimes grow into violence and he would lash out at his peers and hurt them when he got frustrated, throwing objects and tugging whatever he could grab onto, so most of the time he was left alone to avoid these outbursts. he grew up with few to no friends given how difficult it was to be around him.

tris takes out a lot of his frustrations and confusions not only on others but also on himself. even at a young age

his parents had him set up with a behavioral therapist to try to understand why he would lash out this way and why he wanted to be alone, and his answers have always been straight forward. he doesn't want to, and he doesn't like it. he doesn't like the way it feels to be in crowded classrooms, he doesn't like how noisy the other children are, and he doesn't like looking at the smiles his teachers give him to try to get him comfortable. His parents still had hope that he'd eventually open up and be like a normal child so they continued letting him go to public school. His teachers would avoid forcing him to closely participate with the other students for their safety. These efforts didn't mean things got better or anything.

tris at a young age developed a fascination for dead things. dead animals, dead plants, little tris would always somehow get his grubby little hands on something deceased. he has no respect for the dead by any means but instead his fascination is in the reactions that others have towards the dead. tris's favorite activity as a child was dangling a dead animal in the face of the kids around him. the kids around him were afraid of whatever awful thing he'd pull out of his pocket next, running away from him and scooting their seats to be as far as they possibly could. this reputation further isolated him, and even got him into some trouble with kids who didn't like his odd and awful behavior. there were many fights, scuffles, insults thrown his way. he was infamous for being problematic and no one wanted to try getting to know him, they all knew he was going to pull out some dead bug and throw it in their hair whenever he got the chance.

in tris's teen years he hasn't improved much, but has found a couple of ways of coping that keep the people around him safe. he's occupied himself with creating art, sculptures and drawings depicting his thoughts and fantasies, they're morbid and grotesque and one of the few things he finds joy in. he does his best to completely isolate himself and skips out on classes just to be alone with a sketchbook. around this time he also was coming to terms with his own identity, he doesn't like to identify as trans and just claims he's always been a boy and snaps at people who question that. he's overwhelmed with anxieties and frustrations when interacting with people in person, face to face, but he feels a lot more confident when socializing behind a screen via the internet.

it's easier to hide his face and figure, easier to get in touch with many people, and easier to lurk and observe without having to leave the safety and comfort of his room. he loves to start fights online, anonymously, and send horrific images and videos to unsuspecting people that make him feel sick. some of this content he's curated from various parts of the net but a lot of it he's made himself. diy snuff films feat yours truly, he enjoys brutalizing himself and sending it to his poor victims, relishing in their horrified reactions. of course he's ran into a few individuals who are fascinated with him, and want to learn more about him or get him to make personalized content, but he has no interest in interacting with these few and is irritated by their existence. alongside harassing and haunting the poor souls who catch his attention, tris posts his work on an art account where he eventually learns to take commissions from. he doesn't have much interest in games, movies and shows, or comics. every now and then he'll find something just to make the day go by faster.

tris has cycled through several therapists, has been prescribed various medication from a psychiatrist, has even been sent to camps to try and fix his odd and destructive behaviors but he is very uncooperative. he's made little progress in his journey of bettering himself and doesn't care to put any effort in it, even feeling resentful towards his parents for forcing him to even try. they've spent a lot of time and money into trying to find out what's wrong with him and trying to get him to be a normal child with friends and normal hobbies, but their every attempt has been for nothing. sometimes it seems tris lashes out in spite. he's also spoken with school counselors numerous times, they've tried to get a better understanding of him, he always shuts them out and doesn't reveal anything about his thoughts and feelings or why he does the things he does.

because he pays little attention in school and skips out frequently, he's been held back a year or two academically. tris has done some summer schooling to make up for this but he cares so little about his education that it hasn't caught him up. he still gets in trouble with other students and often is caught up in fights with peers who think he should be punished for his awful behavior (deserved really). he gets the shit beaten out of him pretty often, by bullies and what not, it makes him angry but he's not strong enough to fight back very well. he has resorted to keeping sharp objects on him that he can use to do real damage, and this has gotten him into so much trouble that he's been expelled from schools and forced to transfer elsewhere. he's in and out of hospitals and juvenile detention for all sorts of shenanigans.

there's no real specific events to make note of, a lot of his memories are a blur and people rarely capture his interest enough to remember them at all. he gets into photography at some point and starts taking photos of anything disgusting or depressing he can find. garbage, dead animals, puddles of blood after whatever he gets himself into, crying children, it's a miserable collection of things but it's what he likes to focus on. he'll photograph people at the park while people watching and imagine horrible things he thinks they deserve to go through just for existing.

ill wrap this up quickly because it's a long stupid post and i really don't need to keep going into depth on him, but one day while out taking photos he spots a young man. something about this boy captured tris's attention unlike anyone he's ever seen - maybe the way he smiled or the way he spoke so enthusiastically to others - and tris latched onto this feeling as hard as he could.

he found where he worked, where he lived, where he went to school where he liked to shop what he liked to do what his routine was. every thing tris could learn about this boy he managed to get his grimy hands on, that boy was cody. (ko's silly little emo boy oc)

tris had found a new hobby: stalking a guy he'd never spoken to, a guy who didn't even know he existed, and he hated him. he hated him with every cell in his body, seeing his stupid cheesy grin made his stomach churn and hearing his obnoxious voice made his jaw clench tighter. he wanted nothing more than to ruin the happiness that this young man experienced day to day. so what does any deranged teenager do when you hate someone? you cyber bully them online and send them cryptic awful messages until you see them break.

he'd dm him on throwaway accounts, sending images of his mutilation and paragraphs of graphic threats. cody never did anything to wrong tris, poor thing was probably scared out of his mind. what do you do when some crazy stranger is stalking you and sending you graphic content? probably block them over and over and over and just hope they leave you alone. but tris was determined. determined to make this guy who radiated light succumb to the darkness and also probably kill himself. he wanted to do everything he could to make cody miserable and to get rid of the swarming thoughts in his mind..

one day tris visited cody's place of work (i think its like a gas station, some sort of small store) and he is watching him quietly in a corner while pretending like he's shopping around. either cody got suspicious of him, or wanted to make sure he was ok, something happened that got cody to speak up and say hello to tris.. and tris froze up! he froze up, couldn't muster out a response and couldn't brush him off like he could other people. he could feel his heart pounding and his face get all hot.. darted out of the shop with several things stuffed into his pockets and got the hell out of there.. probably threw up afterwards. humiliating experience, unexplainable feelings. but those feelings weren't hatred and anger like before.. turns out he had a big gay crush on this white boy and didn't know what to do with himself. but he didn't know how to go about it .

idk. some more stuff between them, they warm up to each other and tris stops sending cody evil malicious messages. they're like totally in love... and tris is super possessive over him (craazy) while cody is doing his best to live with the horror that is tris yeah lol. its like. toxic evil yaoi to normal loving and sweet romance between two emo boys.

rushed at the end because otherwise i would never upload this, its been ssitting here for i think months now. tris means a lot to me.

#oc #gore #blood #tris #pookie :3 #sh scars #ref #death #dead animal #blarrh #cw

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iamnotoriginalphil · 2 months ago

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A Tale Told in Three Parts (Lydia Deetz x f!Reader)

Synopsis: Each of the Deetz women gets a glimpse into your relationship with Lydia.

Words: 4.4k

Warnings: mentions of toxic relationships, angst

i) Astrid

After the disastrous wake for her grandfather, Astrid was doing her best to avoid Rory and her mother. She wanted to return to school and not be forced to watch the farce of her mother’s life. By extension, she was doing her best to avoid you too. Another one of the people caught up in her mother’s world, she hardly wanted to give you any more thought than she had to.

Still, when she came upon you being so careful as you packed up her grandfather’s possessions, it was hard to hate you.

You’d been in her mother’s orbit for a few years now. She’d never quite been sure of your purpose. Caught somewhere between assistant and friend, you were always in the background, watching and listening, but staying out of the fray. She couldn’t blame you. It’s not as if she wanted to be involved with anything her mother was doing.

But unlike her mother, you would smile and let her sit in silence, and not ask her probing questions in an attempt to force emotional intimacy she didn’t want. Unlike Rory. She could do with less attempts to be her friend from him.

“Hey, did you need something?” you asked, noticing her lingering in the doorway.

“No,” she said.

“Okay.”

You went back to the box, delicately placing an object wrapped in bubble wrap inside. With both hands on your hips, baggy jeans and old worn t-shirt, you looked out of place in the house and in the family. You looked… normal. She couldn’t work out why you were still there, with her mother, letting your life be ruled by such insanity.

“There you are.”

You glanced up again, a smile spreading over your face. Your eyes focused on something over her shoulder, your entire face brightening. Astrid rolled her eyes, turning away, brushing past her mother. Lingering for a moment, she could hear your soft voice, answering whatever it was her mother was saying.

“He said something about getting more boxes,” you said, your voice hardening for a moment.

Maybe that was part of the reason she found you less insufferable than her mother. You made it no secret that you didn’t respect Rory or even particularly like him. She’d heard enough snide comments under your breath to know that, in least in that respect, you were on the same wavelength as her.

Slipping away, she left you to your own bad life decisions. It wasn’t anything to do with her. Not really. She had no interest in whatever was going on.

Even if the way you’d smiled upon seeing her mother was the way her dad used to smile at her too.

A few hours later, as she haunted the upper levels of the house, she happened to glance out the window. Wrinkling her nose at her mother standing on the grass, staring down at the town, she was ready to turn away and go back to ignoring her existence. She paused, a shadow rippling across the grass towards her mother.

She jumped, turning with a disgruntled look on her face. Your smile was wide enough for her to see it from her perch in the upper levels of the house as you approached her mother. A similar smile broke over her mother’s face and she felt something uncomfortable shift under her skin. That smile was almost familiar. One she could almost see as if a dream running through her fingers, hazy from childhood memories.

You said something that made her mother’s shoulders tense again before she seemed to make a concerted effort to relax them. You took another step forward, entering into her personal space, the way so many people never seemed comfortable doing with her mother. Herself being one of those people after everything.

She lingered, an ache in her chest, a bittersweet feeling dripping through her veins. The longer she watched, the more it grew. It wasn’t as if the two of you were doing more than talking. But the way your bodies were curved towards one another, seemingly unaware of anyone else on the property made it seem like it was more.

She watched, almost in slow motion, as your hand reached out, finger gently tapping the tip of her mother’s nose. It wrinkled and your head tipped back as you laughed. Even through the glass from so far away, she could hear it, bright and sunny and so full of joy. Her mother’s face melted into something soft, her lips tugging up in the corners into a small smile. She hadn’t seen that look in so long.

Her heart gave a pang and she turned away. It shouldn’t matter what her mother did with you. You weren’t the one she was choosing to marry. You weren’t the one leeching off her family. You weren’t the one that was ruining her life.

Yet, the feeling lingered long after she’d stopped watching you with her mother.

ii) Delia

Grief was a many pronged thing. Sitting in it was incomprehensible. The house, a constant reminder of all Delia had lost. She could use it. As an artist, exploring her inner feelings was as natural as breathing. Something good could come from all the pain she was forced to feel.

Only the house was full of people and she wasn’t sure what to think about it. Astrid was a relief in many ways, and Lydia was no longer a thorn in her side, but Rory was an active dark cloud on there periphery. You, in amongst all that swirling angst, were a breath of fresh air.

She’d met you a number of times before. One of her step-daughter’s entourage, you were a nice balance to the absolute bullshit that came spewing out of Rory’s mouth. Softer spoken, kinder, straightforward and caring in a way that spoke to the warmth of your soul, she appreciated your presence far more than her soon to be step-son-in-law’s. You offered more comfort in her moment of need. You were happy to take a backseat to her own grief, to let her art shine the way it deserved.

It would be wrong to say she hadn’t developed a soft spot for you. It would be hard not to when compared to Rory. It helped that, while the sleaze of a fiancee Lydia had ended up with tried to ingratiate himself in the family, you offered a steadying force without announcing your intention. In their time of need, you were a rock she was happy to have in the house.

You were sitting on the floor, legs crossed in front of you as you sorted through a large collection of books she hadn’t wanted to touch. Piles surrounded you, carefully wiping dust off each one with a gentle touch. It’s like you knew everything of Charles’ was precious, that a part of him remained in what he left behind.

It was something Rory would never be able to understand.

You looked up, eyes widening before settling into a small smile when you saw her lingering in the doorway. Head tilted up to watch her walk into the room, you placed the book in your hand into the open box in front of you.

“Did you need something, Mrs Deetz?” you asked.

That was another thing. You were always respectful towards her, a trait that had seemed to have passed by Rory without his notice. She definitely preferred your presence in Lydia’s life than the oaf of a man she’d hitched her cart to.

“No, no. I’m merely passing through in an attempt to capture the wistfulness of a life lost,” she said.

“I can give you the room, if you want,” you said, already rising to your feet to give her the space you thought she needed.

“You stay,” she said.

“Alright,” you said, but you didn’t resettle on the floor again.

As she floated through the room in an attempt to feel the way Charles had seeped into the foundations of the house, you made your way to another bookcase, pulling the tomes down. You worked in silence, not interrupting her communion with her husband.

Another thing Rory would never be able to manage.

“Do you have- oh.”

Delia glanced up. Lydia had managed to find her way into the room with the two of you, the familiar expression of anxiety and frustration on her face. You were careful as you placed the books down on the closest surface.

“What’s up?” you asked.

“I was looking for… it’s not important,” she said, already backing away again.

You stepped forward, lowering your voice as you drew closer to her.

“Lyds, come on, what is it?” you asked.

She shook her head and you sighed. Your hand rested on her shoulder, drawing even closer.

“Front pocket,” you murmured, “and I have the prescription hidden amongst my things if he throws them out again.”

Lydia seemed to relax, her eyes slipping closed as she let out a long breath. You squeezed her shoulder.

“I’ve got you,” you said.

“I can’t…” Lydia raised an unsteady hand to her eyes, pressing it in.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you said, “whatever it is, we can get through it.”

“He’s back,” she said, almost a whisper, “he’s in the model.”

This again. Delia was tired of hearing of the demon who had terrorised her poor family all those years ago.

“We’ll get rid of it,” you said, your hand rubbing along her arm, “it’ll be okay.”

“Why won’t he leave me alone?” she groaned, turning away from you.

The way you looked at her was like you you could understand why someone would become fixated on her. It was such a look of longing she wanted to capture it for all to see. An ache, bittersweet, yearning in every line of your face. It was such an open expression of vulnerability, the exact kind of emotion she was trying to capture in her art. And it was all there on your face, for anyone to see, except the person it was directed at.

It was art in its purest form.

“I need a moment,” Lydia said, striding out without looking back at you.

She watched as your body almost crumpled in on itself, spine curling and shoulders hunching. One deep breath then another before you straightened. You turned, blinking when you saw her standing there, watching you with pity in her eyes.

“Sorry,” you said, returning to the books.

“What are you apologising for? Emotion is the fabric of humanity and it is an artist’s job to capture it,” she said.

“Please don’t capture this,” you said, “it will only end in disaster.”

“Are you sure? It’s rather potent on you,” she said.

“I’d rather play out my heartbreak in privacy, if it’s all the same to you,” you said.

“There is no reason for heartbreak,” she said.

“I’m completely smitten with Lydia. How can it end in anything but my heartbreak?” you asked, “she’s marrying someone else tonight.”

“The curtain has yet to be drawn. Tell her. I’d much prefer you join this family than Rory,” she said.

“It’s not really about what you’d prefer though, is it?” you said, the note of resentment clear in your voice.

“She might prefer it too,” she said, “you’ll never know if you don’t try.”

“I know enough,” you muttered.

You lingered a little longer, finishing up your work with the books before slipping away. The front door slammed and she considered watching you from a window, to luxuriate in the pain and longing and consider how she would express it in her work. Instead, she turned back to her own project.

A nice distraction could never end the ever suffering of her grief.

iii) Lydia

There was something to be said for a wedding interrupted. The aftermath was always something to behold. Still, two weddings aborted in a single night was a record, even by Lydia’s standards. A second trip into the Neitherworld had reminded her of the joy of life, the way her blood pumped in her veins and the time she still had left on Earth. To share it with her daughter, coming out of it with the gap between them beginning to be bridged, was full circle with her teenage self returning with a new outlook on living.

By the next morning, the overwhelming feelings were crashing into her again. Delia was gone, Rory was gone, Beetlejuice was still lingering in her unconscious mind. Astrid was more opening to her attempts to talk. You were doing your best to give her the space you thought she needed. In the space of one night, her entire world had been turned on its head, and she was trying to adjust.

She didn’t want the space you were giving her. She didn’t want that one thing to change. She’d never wanted that thing to change.

You slid a plate of food in front of her, pancakes drizzled in some kind of fruit syrup. Astrid had taken hers into the living room, curling up on one of the old armchairs that would be coming with them to their home when they left. She had taken up space in her father’s study.

“You didn’t have dinner last night so don’t fight me on this,” you said.

She sighed, taking the cutlery from your hands. Your finger under her chin tilted her face towards you, seemingly taking her emotional temperature. You gave her a small smile as you let her go.

“I’ll be in the kitchen if you need something,” you said.

She caught your wrist, keeping you from leaving.

“Stay?” she asked.

You looked down at her, considering her request before you nodded. You sunk into one of the chairs on the far side of the room. Fiddling with your phone, she wondered if there was a reason you were avoiding looking at her. Your eyes flicked up and you looked stricken at being caught before you relaxed into a smile.

“I haven’t poisoned that, you know,” you said, nodding at her plate.

She took a bite, your eyes lingering before you nodded again. It wasn’t often she couldn’t figure out what you were thinking, usually so good at reading you. The longer you’d been in this house, the less she’d been able to. She didn’t want to think about it.

But then you looked up again and something in your face softened, fondness in every line of your face. Something in her chest broke open, delicate warmth spreading through her body. It was like the sun had come out from behind the clouds, illuminating every inch of her psyche she’d kept locked up and hidden in the shadows.

Her heart thumped hard in her chest, bruised and battered, and yet still beating. Your lips spread in a smile, the kind that was tired and soft and spoke to the years of intimacy you’d built with her. It was the kind of look she’d been searching for for so many years. How had she never noticed when it was right under her nose?

It had crept up on her so slowly there’d been no reason to pay attention to it. The way you were a steadying hand, keeping her upright, helping her through every moment when she was worried she’d break apart. The way she sought you out when the anxiety got too bad, her eyes scanning the room until they found you. The way you made everything easier without fanfare or an expectation of gratitude.

The way she breathed easier around you.

Blinking at you, it all crashed into her. The events of the last few days should have left her weary and broken, but this was the moment something in her snapped. This was a step too far.

To have fallen in love without even noticing was not meant to be the conclusion to two disastrous weddings, a funeral, and a trip to the Neitherworld.

She turned her attention back to the stack of pancakes you’d made her, brought to her, thinking about her needs even after everything. When was the last time someone else had done that?

“These are good,” she mumbled.

“My grandma’s recipe. She made them every Christmas morning. They taste like childhood joy to me and I figured we could all do with some of that,” you replied.

Her heart squeezed at that. It was so simple. You wanted to give her a bit of your childhood joy, to share with her something that might lift her spirits, to give her something beautiful without asking for something in return. And wasn’t that just a wonderful metaphor for her entire relationship with you.

You shifted in the chair and she realised she was staring at you. Looking away, she took another bite, the warmth of your kindness doing more for her than the actual food. There was no indication you felt even a fraction of the same thing she did. This was how you’d always been with her. You’d always been so soft with her. She hadn’t always deserved it.

“Thank you,” she said, voice quiet, staring down at her plate.

“Any time,” you said, “you know I’ve always got you.”

She was beginning to realise exactly how true that was. Later, after you’d drifted away to give her that space you seemed so sure she needed, she found herself sitting in Delia’s chair, staring out at the town spread out down below. Astrid was keeping close for the time being while you were exploring the surroundings. She lent back, looking up at the sky, hoping Delia had found her father in the Neitherworld and moved to the Great Beyond. The thought of them together for eternity had to be some comfort in the face of her own lose.

Laughter floated towards her on the breeze. Turning her attention down, she found you in your old jeans and soft t-shirt walking through the grass. Your head was tipped up and you paused, a smile stretching over your face as you sought out the sun. The long line of your neck was on full display and she felt her mouth grow dry.

“You might want to wipe the drool away.”

She startled, not having heard Astrid appear in the doorway. Her daughter seemed unimpressed with whatever she saw on her face.

“I don’t,” she began to say.

“It’s obvious to anyone with half a brain,” Astrid interrupted.

“Could you keep your voice down?” she asked.

She turned back to make sure you hadn’t heard anything her daughter had said. Your eyes were closed and your face was still tipped up to the sun but you seemed to be taking time to breath deeply. Her eyes lingered, staring at you in a way she hadn’t allowed herself to ever do before. Even before she’d realised her own feelings it had felt dangerous to look too long.

“You should just tell her,” Astrid said, leaning against the side of the house.

The tableau was hauntingly familiar, the same as just a few days ago between herself and Delia. Was this the cycle she was bound live for the rest of her life? Reliving her own relationship with Delia? There were worse things to live through, she supposed.

“I’m not doing that,” she said.

“Why not? You obviously like her. And she’s better than Rory. Even Delia thought so,” she said.

“You talked about this with Delia?” she asked, something uncomfortable sitting in her stomach.

“In passing. Shockingly, we had other things to talk about than your abysmal love life,” she said, “but we both liked her more than him.”

“I didn’t-“ she tried to say.

“Look, you should just tell her. Life is short and you never know when it’s going to end. Look at Delia. Look at Grandad. Look at Dad. No one expected them to die but they did and we were lucky to see Dad and Delia after they were gone to say goodbye properly but most people don’t get that. So tell her,” she said.

“We’re not talking about this,” she said, turning away again.

She couldn’t tell you. There was no possibility it would end well. The thought of having to go on without you, especially after everything that had just happened, made the panic rise in her. And if she told you that perhaps her feelings were more than what they seemed she was certain you’d pull away from her. She’d rather sit in the feeling with you in her life than lose you.

“I’m not enjoying it any more than you are but she makes you happy and I’m trying to be nice,” Astrid said.

“I’m not risking ruining what I have for more,” she said.

You were slow to lower your head, eyes squinting open. Raising a hand, you shaded your eyes as you looked up at the house. Your hand raised in a wave, hers automatically raising in response without thought. Astrid snorted.

“She likes you too. Just talk to her. It’s not that hard,” she said.

“Says the teenager who’s first date led to her almost giving up her life to let a dead murderer return to the world of the living,” she said.

“We’re all allowed to make mistakes. I haven’t given you shit for Rory,” she said.

“You gave me nothing but shit for Rory,” she replied, looking up at her.

“Rightfully so,” you said, coming up to them without her noticing. Her attention was severely lacking, it seemed, continually being snuck up on by the two people staying in the house with her.

“What?” she asked, on the wrong foot from the surprise.

“No offence, Lyds, but you deserve a bit of shit for Rory. He sucked and you were the only one who couldn’t see it.” You took a seat on the steps, looking up at her with one of those smiles that felt intimate and warm and fond, “sorry but you’re a total badass and you put up with that whimper of a man? You deserve some shit for that.”

“You never said anything,” she said, taken aback. You’d never been this open about your feelings on Rory.

“Yeah, because you were in love with him. It’s a dick move to do that to your friend. But now he’s your ex…” you said.

“I wish you had said something,” she said.

“Would it have made a difference?” you asked.

She paused a moment.

“I don’t know.”

You gave her an indulgent smile, your chin tipping down as you looked up at her from under your lashes. Her heart skipped a beat. She was no romantic but there was no other way to describe the feeling in her chest.

“Am I allowed to be critical of him now?” you asked, voice softening, “if you’re not okay with it I’ll stop.”

“You can,” she said.

“Okay.” Your shoulders relaxed, “because he was awful. You’ve always been too good for him.”

“Who would you pick for me?” she asked before she could stop herself.

“Someone kind,” you replied.

Such a simple answer and yet it felt like a shock to her system. Could it really be that simple? You were kind. So maybe her heart was on to something already.

“Do you know someone?” she asked.

“I’m sure you’re more than capable of finding someone yourself,” she said, “after all, you found me.”

“I did,” she said.

She braced for some kind of comment from Astrid, caring wrapped in sarcasm to get her to say more. But when she looked around, her daughter was gone from where she’d been, slipping away in silence. Something about you seemed to ruin her perceptive abilities. You distracted her from the rest of the world.

You stood and she had the sudden fear that you’d heard more than she’d intended in those two words and were about to leave her alone. Instead, you lent against the railing beside her, fingers plucking the sunglasses off her face and dropping them onto your own. Her heart stuttered and she froze.

“If you had to pick someone, who would they be?” you asked, and she had the desperate wish to see your eyes.

“Someone I’m safe with,” she replied, “someone I trust.”

“That seems like the bare minimum in a relationship,” you said, but you weren’t smiling anymore.

“Clearly I’m not good at finding that,” she said.

“Lyds,” you sighed, pushing the sunglasses to the top of your head, keeping your hair out of your face, “I hope you already have those things. With me.”

“I do,” she rushed to say, that familiar anxiety growing.

“So you’re not bad at finding it,” you said.

“Yes but you…” She wasn’t sure she could finish that thought.

“I…?” you prompted.

“You wouldn’t be interested in being with me like that,” she eventually said.

“I wouldn’t?” You raised your eyebrows.

“Would you?” She couldn’t look at you as she asked.

“I suppose that would depend,” you replied.

Her eyes darted back up to you. The way you were looking at her was so gentle, like she was something special, something wonderful, something you couldn’t believe existed.

“On what?” she asked.

“On if it was something you were interested in,” you said.

“And if I was?” she asked.

“Then I would be very interested in you like that. In fact, it’s possible I’ve been interested in you like that for a while now but thought there was no chance you’d be okay with that,” you said.

Lydia stood from the chair, stepping into your personal space. You fidgeted until she reached out, hands laying over yours to still them. Your expression was so open, so vulnerable and all she could think about was how special it was to be given permission to see this side of you. Her fingers brushed over the pulse in your neck, feeling it jump under her touch. Your breath hitched and you swayed towards her. When your teeth sunk into your lower lip, her gaze was drawn to it, heat seeping through her veins.

“Then maybe you should know I’m thinking about what it would be like to kiss you,” she whispered.

iv) You

Reader, you kissed her.

#lydia deetz x reader #lydia deetz imagine #lydia deetz #beetlejuice beetlejuice

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hazbinwhoree · 8 months ago

Note

reader that is related to one of adams band members. but has no interest in adam due to his reputation (at first) since she only bothers with long-term and committed stuff. tends to hide behind her sibling and snitch if adam ever tries to make a move. at some point its more to fuck with adam than actually avoid him, I assume it eventually works out, after more effort than expected from adam

My Bandmate’s Sister

A/N: The song is Like Real People Do by Hozier, my lord and savior.

Adam and his drummer, David, had beef. Was it because Adam constantly pursued David’s sister? Well that was David’s beef. Adam’s beef wasn’t exactly clear, but he had started pursuing David’s sister for the sole purpose of pissing David off.

(Name), David’s sister, came to all of their shows and had a free pass backstage due to being family. She had absolutely no interest in Adam. Every time Adam flirted with her, she would tell her brother and hide behind him, smirking as he and Adam got into a fight.

But Adam was nothing if not persistent.

His reputation was working against him, his fuckboy persona not benefitting him for the first time in his life. (Name) was a conservative girl, only interested in the long term and unconcerned with hookups and all things shallow. And in her mind, Adam was a shallow as they came.

“There are 206 bones in my body. Want to help me grow another one?”

Unimpressed, (Name) turned to face him. “I’m shocked you know how many bones you have in your body. I figured you were too stupid to know a fact like that.”

Adam placed a hand over his heart in mock hurt. “Babe, you wound me.”

“Leave me alone or I’ll tell David you’re trying to fuck me again.”

Adam pushed a little more, and true to her word, (Name) spun on her heel and marched over to the drummer, tapping his shoulder. She whispered in his ear and David looked over at Adam, pissed.

He stood up and just like that, he and Adam were in another fight.

See, maybe Adam would have given up by now. It was funny the first few times, but the constant fights with David were getting old. The problem was, Adam had legitimately started catching feelings for (Name). He supposed he’d just have to try harder.

Maybe heavy flirting wasn’t the way to go.

Instead of heavy flirting, Adam started asking her questions about herself instead. (Name) seemed skeptical and sometimes she’d tell on him to David just to fuck with Adam, but it was working much better than the heavy flirting was.

(Name) actually enjoyed having normal conversation with Adam. Once you got past his flirting and ego, he was actually a good conversationalist. (Name) came to learn more about him too. He only takes his mask off to sleep. He can’t cook. Doesn’t have any STDs (surprise), how that conversation even came to be, (Name) didn’t know.

It was kind of nice, but Adam could tell her guard was still up. He started ignoring his groupies in lieu of talking to (Name) after every show, much to David’s chagrin. If David had it his way, Adam wouldn’t interact with (Name) period, but she was more than capable of making her own decisions and if she wanted to talk to Adam, he couldn’t stop her.

(Name) felt slightly special that Adam blew off easy lays just to pursue her. Still, she was sure it was an act to get into her pants, so she was cautious.

Adam started dedicating sets to her at shows, and David hated it. (Name) found it kind of sweet that he was pubic about liking her. He was getting in his own way when it came to getting laid and he didn’t even care.

One night, after a show, (Name) was talking to her brother when Adam approached her. “Hey babe, can I steal you?” David scowled. “No–” (Name) silenced him with a hand on his shoulder. “Sure,” she agreed.

Adam grinned and led her away while David glared after them. He led her outside the venue before abruptly picking her up bridal-style and taking flight. (Name) shrieked. “I can fly by myself, asshole!” Adam just laughed at her.

They weren’t in the air for too long before Adam reached their destination. It was an open field, a beautiful clearing, where the stars and moon shone brightly. Adam carefully set her down on her feet before pulling his guitar off his back.

“I learned a new song, I want to play it for you.”

“Did we have to come all the way out here?”

“I needed to set the mood,” Adam rolled his eyes. “Just listen.”

He began to strum his guitar.

“I had a thought, dear, however scary

About that night, the bugs and the dirt

Why were you digging? What did you bury

Before those hands pulled me from the earth

I will not ask you where you came from

I will not ask and neither should you

Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips

We should just kiss like real people do.”

(Name) was silent. Adam had such a nice voice. She’d never been serenaded by a guy before.

“I knew that look, dear, eyes always seeking

Was there in someone that dug long ago

So I will not ask you why you were creeping

In some sad way, I already know

So I will not ask you where you came from

I would not ask and neither would you

Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips

We should just kiss like real people do.”

(Name) couldn’t believe a metalhead like Adam had learned a love song just for her.

“I could not ask you where you came from

I could not ask and neither could you

Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips

We could just kiss like real people do.”

(Name) was quiet when Adam finished the song, and her heart fluttered when she noticed how nervous he looked. “Did I get the message across?” he asked.

“That you want to fuck me? You’ve made that very clear.”

“No,” Adam said exasperated. “That I like you.”

“Oh.” (Name) was quiet. He seemed so genuine she found herself believing him. It scared her.

“Oh?” Adam repeated. “Is that all you have to say?” (Name) shook her head. “I’m just… processing.” “I thought I’ve been making it pretty clear,” Adam said.

“Well sure, but you’re a fuckboy,” (Name) retorted.

Fair enough.

“Which is why I did all this. I wanted to ask you something and make it special.”

“Ask me what?”

Adam put his guitar back on his back, reaching his hands out for (Name) to take. Cautiously, she did.

“To be my girl.” “What?” “I’m asking you to be my girlfriend,” Adam said, tone devoid of all humor. “Are you serious?” Adam nodded. “Dead serious.”

Now (Name) looked unsure. “What is it?” Adam asked. “Anything you’re worried about, any questions you have, I’ll answer. Put your mind at ease.”

“I’m just having trouble believing the great Adam wants a serious relationship.”

“You’re forgetting I’ve been married twice. And I really loved Lilith and Eve. They left me, not the other way around. Fuck, Eve cheated on me. So I know that pain and I’d never be unfaithful. I know I’m kind of a man whore but who cares what I do when I’m single? I’m a man who can commit. To the right woman.”

(Name) had to admit he plead his case well. She couldn’t deny her own feelings for him any longer, not with that reassurance.

“...Okay.” “Okay?” “I’ll be your girlfriend.” “Really?” Adam almost looked like he didn’t believe her.

(Name) smiled. “The song kinda sold it. Did you really learn it just for me?” Adam blushed. “Yeah, I know you like Hozier and I figured that was the most applicable song so…”

(Name) took her hands in his. “That was sweet.”

They stared at one another, faces illuminated by moonlight, before Adam bent down and carefully connected their lips. He’d waited for this for so long.

The stars twinkle above they as they kiss like real people do.

#hazbin adam #adam x reader #hozier #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #hazbin husk #hazbin vaggie #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel #hazbin lute #x reader #oneshot #oneshots #fluff #song fic #like real people do

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mclmora · 4 months ago

Text

left ✧ tsukishima kei x fem!reader ✧ pt 2

summary: y/n has mixed feelings after what happened with kei. thankfully, though, exams are over.

tw: none.

days passed since your discussion with tsukki took place at your house. unfortunately, that weight in your stomach hasn’t gone away, making you wake up every morning feeling as if something wasn’t right. something was out of place. something was missing.

deep down, you knew what that “something” was. or rather, who it was. nothing more than him; that amber eyed, tall, guy you used to call friend. he was the main cause of your worry, that itch in the back of your mind you couldn’t scratch.

reality was, you still hadn’t processed that conversation. you kept replaying it in your head, over and over, as if that would’ve changed something. you couldn’t believe you ended your friendship with him like that.

was your friendship over? was it really over?

you begun avoiding him for weeks, that’s true, yet you couldn’t help but ask yourself if that was what you genuinely wanted. part of you was sure of your words, you meant everything you said in that unforgettable instant. then why... why did it feel so wrong? why was there a part of you that missed him like air?

shame swallowed you whole as you closed the door behind you, heading towards the gate to leave for school. you felt confused, hurt.

gripping tightly on your bag strap with both hands, a heavy sigh left your cold lips. the other part of you wished tremendously he would come back to you, crying for your forgiveness and finding all possible ways to get your affection back.

but it was during those reveries that the harsh reality would hit you like a slap in the face. he wasn’t your boyfriend. what you wanted, were actions only people in love would do. which he obviously wasn’t. and after that conversation, you felt as if you had no right to fantasy about him in that romantic way. he was never yours and he will never be.

although you found yourself being loyal to him multiple times, as if he was.

it was like now that you’ve lost him, you wanted him back, ignoring his terrible past, and current, actions. you judged yourself harshly for that, feeling like a pathetic hypocrite who wasn’t able to let go of people who weren’t good for herself and never had been.

as you lost yourself further into your self reflections, you arrived at school. you had to stop a second to take a long breath in, bracing yourself for another school day that had two important exams awaiting you on the early classes.

as usual, you begun playing with the cuticles of your right hand, sometimes biting them off, others peeling them off.

either way, it was 8:21 AM and you had to enter now. you tried focusing on what your eyes saw on the way to the classroom, to forget everything that was bothering you for a few minutes. some students smoking in the benches of the yard, a couple soda cans on the ground, two flying birds above your head...

“ow-” with your face up in the sky, you didn’t pay attention to where you were walking, and bumped your forehead against something hard. when you removed your hand from your head to take a look at whatever you smacked your face on, you fixed eyes on a familiar face.

you just bumped against him, your so beloved tsukishima kei, who had a huge bag full of volley balls in his arms, that made him struggle to see wherever he put his feet on.

for a long minute, you froze on the spot, unable to move or speak. it was him indeed who broke the ice, spitting a simple, yet venomous, phrase.

“watch it, pipsqueak.”

the irony. he purposely bumped against your shoulder when passing by, making you lower your gaze to your own shoes to avoid meeting his eyes. you caressed your forearm, unmoving for a couple more seconds, until then hearing someone call your name from afar inside the building. you made a significantly amount of effort to smile at your classmate, who was inviting you to go inside and grab a quick coffee before heading to the first class of the day.

accepting her invitation, you took that as an opportunity to shake off that previous sour encounter that would surely take space in your mind as the hours will go on. you feared free time for that specific reason.

it was during those moments that your mind would travel back to unwanted memories and unpleasant thoughts. you began hating it.

grabbing a coffee from the cafeteria, you and your classmate headed at your mathematics class, chatting about frivolous things on the way. as you thought, that helped ease your nerves a bit, and when you took your seat and layed your stuff on the desk, you were feeling much better than before.

class begun, you took the last sip of your coffee and shifted your attention to the teacher who just walked in, that quickly explained the procedure of the exam, blessing you guys of 15 more minutes to review your notes before beginning the actual thing.

you thanked her wordlessly, reading again and again the parts you had more doubts on, until time was over and you started the exam.

the next classes went smoothly, just like the first one. you handed your papers, confident of your works, and spent the remaining hours with a lighter heart. concentrating on your exams and lessons helped you a lot, fortunately you didn’t cross tsukishima in the hallways, or outside during lunch time.

when the day was over, you grabbed your notebooks from your locker and headed out of the building, with your phone pressed against your ear, yachi talking on the other end.

“so, are you coming or not?!” she squeaked, eager.

you, on the other hand, were reluctant. yachi and kiyoko invited you to a special night out with the volleyball team, to celebrate the last match of the year. christmas was around the corner, just like the new year, so the girls wanted to take the boys out in a pretty restaurant that recently opened near the square.

the problem was, that would’ve meant seeing tsukishima, since he was a member of said team.

were you really ready for that? no. of course not. however, you couldn’t explain what happened to yachi, nor kiyoko, as much as you loved them. it wasn’t something you could tell anyone, especially if close to tsukki.

you met them at the beginning of the year, when you decided to give them a hand with the organization of the matches and schedule. being friends with kei got you to get in touch with all the members of the team, managers included, and here you were. stuck in a really, really uncomfortable situation.

“listen... i’m not so sure i can make it, you se-” you tried to replicate, but yachi cut you off before you could finish your cheap excuse. “i won’t stop pestering you until you accept. i mean it!”

a profound, heartfelt, sigh flied out of your lips. “okay.”

on the other end, you hear her scream in happiness, “ahh, yess! can’t wait! i’ll send you a text with the directions to get to the restaurant and the time, remember to tell me what you’ll be wearing, we could match! love youu.”

she closed the phone call, leaving you alone with your own thoughts.

another sigh. what the fuck did you just get yourself into?

with this thought, you got home, realizing that today you gave your last exams and it was friday. with all the things going on, you didn’t even stop a second to think about it.

suddenly, your head felt ten times lighter.

you went straight to the bathroom and took the longest, most beautiful, bath you’ve took in a long time. you left your muscles relax under the hot water for at least an hour, giving yourself a well deserved beauty moment all for yourself afterwards. during your hair mask, you decided to order a sushi takeaway and relax in front of a movie until falling asleep.

that night you slept for over 11 hours, recovering all the sleep you lost throughout the past 3 weeks probably.

in the morning, you woke up with a text from yachi, who kept her word and sent you the location and time of the event, which was scheduled to be around next week. you couldn’t hold back a small grimace, such reminder at an early hour wasn’t exactly your ideal way to begin the day, considering how much you weren’t feeling it.

however, it wasn’t fair to deprive yourself of a nice dinner in company of your friends just because of one individual. you guys were going to be a lot anyway, you could simply sit next to yachi and kiyoko, or someone else for what it mattered. conversing with kei wasn’t an obligation.

... right?

truth was, you felt helpless. anxiety ate you up and spit you out so easily. you were so scared of fucking it up somehow, or just ending up arguing with him in front of anyone, even though being rationally aware that it was never gonna happen.

but what if it happens the second you’re not worrying about it happening?

worries began to accumulate in the corners of your mind, that you tried to push away, when an idea crossed your mind. quickly, you grabbed your cellphone and wrote yachi a text back.

y/n: hey, i don’t really have anything to wear for saturday. wanna go shopping together this evening? we could ask kiyoko if she wants to come as well! let me know. xo

it didn’t take long for her to reply, after not more than half an hour she texted you back,

yachi: omg yes! i was actually counting on asking you the same. i’m gonna text kiyoko to see what she thinks.

eventually, kiyoko replied that she was down for a shopping session as well, and you girls organized to meet at the mall at 3:30 PM and spend the evening together until late, dining there.

you spent your morning doing chores and exchanging texts with the girls, talking about school and the event that was gonna take place in the new restaurant. yachi shared tens of pictures of dresses and outfits, to which kiyoko kept replying that you weren’t going to attend a met gala, rather a simple dinner with volleyball players, not rich actors.

you laughed at some of the texts, until 1 PM clocked in and you started to get ready.

it didn’t take too much. after an hour and a half, you were standing in front of the mirror, debating if the outfit you picked was of your liking enough to be wore. you looked at yourself to the side, then to the back... then to the front, until you took a look at the clock and saw 3:02 PM. the mall was exactly 30 minutes away from your home, you had to go now.

as fast as you could, you picked your bag and stuck what you needed in there, checking your hair one last time before leaving, closing the door behind you and walking off.

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#haikyuu tsukki #haikyuu tsukishima #haikyuu!! fanfic #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader #haikyuu x female reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei fanfiction #tsukishima kei #tsukki x reader #hq tsukki #mclmora’s haikyuu!!

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builtbybrokenbells · 11 months ago

Text

CAPITAL VICES | PRIDE

Pride: an excessive view of one’s self without regard for others

Masterlist

Listen while reading: Little Wing - Jimi Hendrix, Nobody Home - Pink Floyd

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 14k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, morning sex, quickie (ish), fingering (f!receiving), choking, praise, degradation, name calling, sir kink, begging, dom/sub, overstimulation, rough sex, dirty talk, touch of bratty sub, showering together, fluff (lots), angst, arguing, fighting, crying, breakups/mentions of breakups, mentions of death/dying, mentions of loss of a parent, grief, swearing, sorry if i miss any!

I wasn’t going to post this today but I just couldn’t help myself 😁 don’t hate me too much ;) as always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!

“Wake up, sweetheart.” A soft kiss was placed on your shoulder, the light tickle just the right amount of sweetness to wake you up in a good mood. You had grown accustomed to Jake’s presence in the early mornings; your defence was down, and in some strange way, you’d even grown to love it. You hummed in response, neglecting to open your eyes and see what he wanted from you. You could still feel him wrapped around you, your back pressed tightly against his chest and his touch warming your soul. A light hand was on your hip, his fingers lazily holding you in a show of clear affection. Whatever he wanted was nothing important, and that you were certain of.

“Five more minutes.” You protested, pulling the blanket closer to your chest. He chuckled at your reluctance, continuing to pepper kisses across your shoulder.

“It’s late, angel. You should get up.” He tried again, the little white lie slipping past his lips to encourage you to open your eyes. His hand drifted a little further downwards, his fingertips now grazing your bare thigh.

“I have nothing to do today.” You argued, trying not to give into his gentle touch. The temptation was impossible to resist, but you put up the fight for as long as you could.

“Nothing to do?” He teased. “Not even me?” Even with your eyes closed, you had to fight off the urge to roll them at his shameless flirting.

“You’ll be here all day,” you grumbled, struggling to ignore his hand that was drifting towards your heat. You had only been awake for a moment, but the familiar ache was already growing too strong to ignore. “I’m sure you can wait a little while.”

“Haven’t you learned that lesson already?” Your breath hitched in your throat as his fingers slipped between your legs. “I don’t like waiting, angel.” A rush of arousal ran through you at the memory of the night before. Although he gave you what he thought was a punishment, it did not seem to deter you from wanting to deny him again. Whatever he was trying to teach you did not seem to stick. Whether that was due to his poor teaching ability or your undying need for him, you did not know. What you did know was that despite his efforts, he could not seem to fuck the brattiness out of you and his form of punishment was highly enjoyable. You were eager to press the same buttons just to experience sex like that again.

In truth, there were a million lessons he had tried hard to teach you, but you never cared to listen. It had nothing to do with his ability, and everything to do with your own stubbornness.

Perhaps if you listened, you might have avoided the disaster that was looming just overhead.

“Maybe you need to remind me again.” You yawned, and although it was not on purpose, it seemed to fit the narrative perfectly. “Not sure if I remember correctly.”

“Come on, sweetheart. Don’t start with me again.” He sighed, his fingers finally reaching your cunt. You took in a sharp breath in reaction to the feeling, still sore and sensitive from the night before. “I thought I fucked that little attitude out of you?” His finger ran through your wetness, trailing it all the way up to your clit where he began tracing slow circles. You shifted, rolling over on your back to allow him easier access to you. His eyes drifted over your face, a small smile stuck on his lips as he admired your beauty in the light of the early morning. “Nothing to say?” He questioned, keeping his movements steady, but light.

“Wouldn’t want to hurt your feelings.” You lied through your teeth, knowing that he was right. You had zero arguments, and the only reason you felt the need to talk back was because you wanted him to touch you. Now that you had gotten what you wanted, you felt that you could comfortably remain in silence.

“Right,” he chuckled, unable to find the desire to chastise you.

His eyes were fixated on your face as he drank in every detail you had to offer. The specs of brown that floated amidst the color of your irises, the way your eyelashes drooped down and dusted the dark circles under your eyes every time your eyelids fluttered closed. He stared long enough to notice the speckled freckles that littered the bridge of your nose, barely noticeable from a distance but mesmerizing when he got close enough. He studied the few scars that were painted on your skin, reminding him of a lifetime that he did not know about but so desperately wanted to. They were so light now that they barely even existed anymore, but he was so immersed in the constellations they formed across your face that he was sure he would never miss them again.

He watched as your lips parted as waves of pleasure washed over you, wishing so desperately that you would let a moan slip past your lips just so he could have the chance to hear the melody again. He wanted to kiss you, or to at least speak his adoration into the universe, but he seemed frozen in place. He had locked himself in with lust, stalemating his own feelings and making it so they could never surface. What he felt for you in that moment was a feeling stronger than love; it was adoration, safety, happiness, and a sense of home he hadn’t felt since he was young, nestled in his childhood bedroom after his parents tucked him into bed. He felt all of the things for you that he was certain this lifetime would never grant him, and he had no idea what to do with all of it.

That night at the bar, he found you so compelling that he could not force himself to walk away. Your beauty was blinding, and your charm was irresistible despite your rejection. Had he known at that moment that you would be so important to him, he never would have spoken a casual relationship into fruition. Dating was not his forte, and he never wanted to do it again, yet now that he sat face to face with his love for you, it was the only thing he wanted. He wanted all of the things he previously denounced as long as it was with you, but he was terrified of his own revelations. It made him want to run, to hide and never be seen again just to ensure that his heart would be safe. Then, he looked at you for a second too long and he realized he would run for so long and so far that he would land straight back in your arms. If he left, he would search for you until the day he died, and if he still could not find you, he would spend the next life searching, too.

Through the weeks of hookups and long nights spent sleeping beside you in bed, he’d fallen for you unintentionally and beyond anything he’d ever known. He fell in love with you in the most sincere and honest way, and the intensity in which he felt it nearly gutted him. He loved you without expectation, nor any requirement. He loved you silently, and he loved you loudly. Through smiles and shared touches, through small stories about the young girl that lived through travesty so the young woman he adored could flourish, and through memories made by the cumulative hours spent holding each other and laughing with each other after sex. He loved you through spoken words, shared jokes and playful banter. He loved you enough that it was hard to be away from you, and he loved you enough that his apartment felt like it belonged to you more than it ever belonged to him.

As he watched your face, the man who had seduced you into bed for the first time ceased to exist. He was no longer a devilish being that was driven by concupiscent thoughts; he was a boy who wanted more than just the sex the two of you had based your entire relationship around. For the first time since knowing you, the last thing he wanted to do was fuck you. He wanted to hold you until the morning bled into the afternoon, cocooned in blankets and suffocating in the sweetness of your laughter. He wanted to ignore every single growl of hunger, and every scorching sensation of thirst. He didn’t need anything other than you in his arms, and he didn’t want anything more than the simplicity of loving you.

The devil had finally met his maker, and it was far more sinister than anything he ever imagined before. You were everything all at once, the very thing that breathed life into his soul, and the only thing that could take it away. If he had half a brain, he would have already ran out the door, but he could not fathom leaving your side. His fear made him withdraw, and his love made him stay. He was being ripped apart by his own moral struggle, but he felt so much love for you that it completely overshadowed the pain that came along with it.

Instead of facing his conflict, he slipped his thumb to your clit as his fingers rested on your entrance. Before he could debate the consequences, he began pumping his fingers into you as he moved his thumb in time. With his eyes still fixated on your face, he tried to harness the same energy as the first night he met you. The filthy desire for you, rather than the love that ran so deep it made his veins dry of blood.

“That feels so good, baby.” You whimpered, your eyes fluttering open to catch sight of his own. Had you not been so lost in bliss, you might have noticed the pain that was shining through the cloud of desire. He could not respond, fearful that a confession might slip out instead of an encouragement. Instead, he leaned down and pressed his lips to your own. It silenced you from spewing any more beautifully venomous words that would in turn convince him to tell you all his heart felt for you.

As he kissed you, it did nothing but worsen the ache in his chest. His hand continued working at you, begging for an orgasm to hopefully lessen the discomfort of love and heighten the lust that so often burned in his chest. He was desperate for you to orgasm, but it was for a reason much different than all of the times before. It had absolutely nothing to do with remembering, and instead, everything to do with forgetting. He watched your expression twist into one of pleasure, and he hurt at the thought of you being so oblivious to the things that he was feeling for you. He wondered, just for a moment, if you had ever felt that way about him in the time you had spent together. He could not focus on the thought, because it pained him to know that you did not.

“Fuck, Jake.” You gasped, feeling the pit of your stomach ignite with a fire he so often caused.

“Yeah? Does that feel good, angel?” He crooned, his eyes heavy and a lazy smile plastered on his lips. He did a great job at covering up the damage he had done to himself. “Do you want to cum for me?”

“Yes, please.” You groaned, your hand clasping around his bicep in hopes of keeping him there forever. You had a slight mistrust for him since he denied you of the pleasure so many times the night prior. Little did you know, denying you anything was nearly impossible for him, especially in that moment when sleep was still threatening your eyes and your need for him was primal.

“You sound so pretty when you beg for me.” He muttered, imagining the sight of his hand driving you to insanity underneath the blanket. He took in a long breath as his eyes fluttered closed, listening intently to the noises falling so delicately from your lips. “Cum for me, sweet girl.” The silky smooth tone of his voice was all it took to push you over the edge. You clenched around his hand, uttering ugly curses painted with the beauty of his name. The vulgarity of the scene would turn any man to his knees before god, yet somehow it was so ethereal when the obscenities were doused in his name, like holy water working to rid you of the sin. “That’s it, angel.” He coaxed you through it, gentle and sweet as if he wasn’t opening the gates to hell and pushing you inside.

As you rode out the euphoria, your eyes settled on his face in a similar manner as he had been watching you. You thought your heart might stop and you would ascent to the heavens from the picture of his beauty alone. He was looking down at you, his warm brown eyes casted down upon the bridge of his nose to soak in every inch of your expression of pleasure. They were warm, inviting you in and promising to keep you safe. The permanent upturn of his lip made your chest ache and your eyes cross with stars. The smirk, although infuriating at first, had quickly turned itself into something you could not live without. The soft locks of brown hair hung down to frame his rosy cheeks, flushed at the sight of you in such a state. His eyebrows were furrowed slightly, barely enough to notice, but too much for you to bear. His dark eyelashes casted a shadow over his stare, but it did not offset the intensity of his eyes burning into you. The blemishes and scars left behind on his skin were in tune with your own, allowing you to realize that the man you’d made out to be a godless entity was nothing but a boy who was mindlessly trying to make it through life alive, strikingly similar to yourself.

When you breathed out the last of the pleasure from your orgasm, you expected the fleeting moment of adoration to fade away with it. When your chest was steady, back to its normal rhythm, it did not seem to disappear. The cloud of sexual tension dissipated, and so did the sensation in the pit of your stomach and between your legs, but the swell of your heart did not seem to want to follow. He gave you a few slow blinks, the smirk turning into a smile as he recognized the far away look in your eyes. It was the same one he had been watching you with, but he would never speak a word to you about it. The confirmation in your expression was enough for him to move on from it without speaking it into existence.

You bit down on the inside of your lip ever so gently, holding back the words that were begging to be spoken. He didn’t interrupt your moment of clarity, but he did admire you while the reality washed over you. He withdrew his hand from you, but you were too enthralled in the details of his face to notice, the ones that only you had access to. You loved him in every way you knew to be possible, but it felt like you were choking on the confession. Slowly, the words would suffocate you and you would never get the opportunity to speak the truth.

“You’re beautiful, Jake.” You choked out, managing the compliment if nothing else.

“As are you, sweetheart.” He leaned down, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. You were struggling to find another word to speak, but your train of thought was cut off by the ring of the doorbell. You snapped out of the trance in a panic, wondering who would be knocking at your door so early in the morning. Before you could scramble out of bed to investigate, he laid a gentle hand on your stomach as if to tell you it was okay.

“Almost forgot why I woke you up.” He chuckled, sending a soft, reassuring smile your way. You raised an eyebrow as he stood, adjusting himself in his pants before he retreated to answer the door. “I ordered food, and I didn’t want it to get cold before you got the chance to eat.”

“Oh,” you breathed, your head still swimming with confliction about the feelings arising in your chest. “Thank you.” He watched you for a moment, his head cocking to the side in confusion at your lack of argument. When you didn’t follow your statement up with any kind of rejections or insults, he gave a slow nod before walking out of the room.

You collapsed against the pillows as soon as he was out of sight, heaving a heavy sigh of relief. You were so disoriented that you almost considered asking him to go home so you could sort through your thoughts, but the idea of him leaving struck a painful nerve in your heart. You had no idea why you were so infatuated with him, or why the sight of his face brought you to such weakness. He was the same Jake that had laid in your bed dozens of times before, and it was the same hand between your leg giving you the same, earth-shattering orgasm. Although those were all good things, they weren’t any different than the days that came and passed before. What changed, you did not know.

Denial is a disease, and you were plagued with it.

You were so deep in your pondering about the strange feelings sparking in your chest that you failed to realize Jake was bringing you not only breakfast, but was intending to bring you breakfast in bed. It was the furthest thing from your agreed upon rule, but it was so minuscule to you now that you barely even thought twice about it. Breakfast was the least incriminating thing the two of you had done together in regards to romance, and you knew that, even if you didn’t want to face the truth.

So, instead of either of you digesting the feelings and speaking up about them, you compartmentalized them and simply pretended they did not exist.

Sloth still had its deadly hold on your hearts, and it was slowly beginning to take a control of your lives.

Before Jake returned, you stood and made your way to the kitchen in attempt to mitigate the effects of breakfast in bed. You were still dazed and completely lost in your thoughts when you took post by the kitchen island. When he returned and noticed you were not in the same spot he left you, he stood beside you without a word, a takeout bag in one hand and a tray of coffee in the other. When he sat the items on the counter, relief flooded you instead of fear. You were not relieved to be sharing such an intimate meal, but because you would have something to occupy yourself with while you tried to swallow down your confessions of love.

Then, when your hand grabbed the bag, you could not seem to bring it any closer to you. Your body was rejecting the thought of food, and the smell was nearly sickening. You were so distraught from your revelations that you couldn’t even stomach the idea of eating. Jake mindlessly sipped away at the cardboard cup in his hand, barely noticing your stunned gaze. He’d already gotten over the painstaking realizations and had pushed them so deep down inside of him that they barely existed at all.

“Not hungry, angel?” He asked, his hand finding your hip as he moved behind you. Your eyes closed at the contact, the relief instantaneous and the comfort immeasurable.

“No, guess not.” You muttered, trying your best to focus on the feeling of his touch rather than the emotion running rampant in your chest.

“Interested in something else, by any chance?” You could feel his erection pressing into your ass. Pleasing you had worked him up to the point of no return, and now eating breakfast was the last thing on his mind.

“Is sex all you think about?” You chuckled, feeling the unease begin to fade. Everything was easy to forget about when his hands were on you, holding you so close.

“You make it hard to think about anything else.” He admitted, slipping his hands underneath his t-shirt that was resting on your thighs. You couldn’t deny the feeling that blossomed in your stomach, and you had to agree that when the two of you were together, sex had always been the most pressing thought.

“Don’t put the blame on me for your filthy imagination, Jacob.” You smirked, finding a shred of your normal personality making a return.

“Wasn’t blaming you, angel. Simply just stating a fact.” He pushed the shirt to your hips, a low growl sounding from his chest at the sight of your exposed lower half. “You know I always have to finish what I've started.”

“Make it quick, honey. I’d hate for you to waste another coffee on my behalf.” You breathed, trying your best to make it seem as if the position was not affecting you. In truth, your legs were quivering at the thought of him being inside you again, and your stomach was already tied in knots, ready to snap from the tension.

“Haven’t I told you already?” He freed himself from his sweatpants, forgoing any formalities or foreplay. Getting you off had already pushed him to the point of insanity, and he feared that if he had to wait a second longer he might die from the disease of needing you. He rested the tip of his cock on your entrance, pausing there only for a moment so he could speak again. “This is worth more than anything else in the world.” His words were firm, forcing you to believe it to be truth even if you wanted to refute it. He avoided what he really wanted to confess, knowing that if his emotions were coated in a protective shield of lust, it was less likely to scare you away. He so badly wanted to tell you that it was not the sex that was worth the world in gold, it was you.

He hated the fire burning in his chest, not because of the intensity, but because he knew that you were the one who so often ignited it. He promised that love would not complicate your relationship, but love had been tangling itself in your souls since the first time your eyes locked together. It was there before the first word was spoken, and long before the first touch. It was there in the beginning, before he ever stepped foot in the bar. It guided him to you, speaking soft whispers through the moonlight in hopes of landing him directly by your side.

Of course, fate was such a twisted little thing; to make two people who denounced the callings of their own heart fall irrevocably in love was a sinister act, but it was undeniably true. The two of you were meant to find each other, to experience such serenity at the hands of another and to find love that did not make you want to seek shelter from the explosion. You were meant to learn love in its true form, not the kind where raised voices and fists chilled the warmth it created, and not one in which infidelity and mistrust blackened its golden glow. Most of all, you were meant to give it to each other as much as you were meant to learn it. Sloth had affected you so badly because you were so good at caring for each other in a way nobody else had, and it was a heinous crime to withhold that kind of care from each other.

This love did not leave a bitter taste in his mouth, nor did it leave one in yours, but it did strike so much fear within you that it was nearly paralyzing. You knew you felt strongly about him, and you knew why you felt that way, but it did not make the fact easily digestible. You hadn’t felt a feeling so strong since before the tragic end of your last marriage, and you had been perfectly content with never feeling it again. It was not warm and fuzzy like it was to so many others; to you, it was violent and painful, and it made you ache all over when you thought about how much he meant to you. You were terrified of letting him in, but you were even more fearful of losing him. Above all, you were so scarred from the past that you feared that once your guard was down, the Jake you knew would morph into a monster that would hurt you far beyond what anyone else had done.

You knew you should not blame him for the mistakes others had made, but what you had experienced at the hands of love made the whole idea turn sour in your mind. You knew it was implausible, but if you could, you would have lived the rest of your life alone and never let anyone get too close.

When he pushed inside of you, the turmoil living inside both of your hearts immediately settled. Nothing ever seemed to matter when he was so close to you, and perhaps that was the most dangerous of all.

“God, you feel so fucking good angel.” He groaned, biting his tongue so he wouldn’t let any more sweetness slip out. “What do you do to me?” He muttered, looking down at his hips as they fucked into you. His eyes focused intently as he slowed his movements slightly, increasing the intensity of his thrusts, instead. He was so infatuated with you that the sight of him fucking you had quickly turned into his favourite sight to see.

“Harder, Jake.” You pleaded, gripping on to the countertop as you prepared for more. The feeling was already overwhelming, your last orgasm still lingering on your skin. The newly discovered feelings did nothing to aid your ability to withhold a climax, and if anything, feeling such things with him inside of you was only worsening the love blossoming in the deepest depths of your heart.

“You want more, angel?” He smirked, doing exactly what you wanted. A yelp sounded as he slammed against your cervix, your knees buckling under the weight of your body as you struggled to keep yourself upright. “Tell me how good I make you feel.” He ordered. His words were heavy, and the intent had nothing to do with the power trip he usually found himself in during sex. It had everything to do with how badly he needed to hear you say it, how badly he needed to know that you needed him the same as he needed you.

“You make me feel so good, Jake.” You felt no need to fight the truth, and if feeding into his ego would ensure he never stopped, you would praise him until your lungs collapsed from a lack of oxygen. “Nobody can make me feel this good, only you, Jake.”

“Fuck,” he huffed, reaching down and pulling you up off the counter. He only withdrew for a second, just long enough to grab you by the hips and lift you up. He sat you on the counter, wasting little time before making a home between your legs again. He pulled you to the edge of the countertop, lining himself up with you and pushing back inside. “Being so good for me, today. What’s gotten into you?” He teased, smiling down at your pleasure ridden expression. The new position limited his movement, but it was all the more euphoric now that you could see his face.

You could not tell him the truth as to why you were so well behaved, because it had everything to do with the aching feeling of love burrowing into the muscles in your chest. You could not confess because of your own fears of falling in love, but even more so because of the fear of him not feeling the same. He had been just as intent on keeping your relationship casual, and you worried that if he knew you were losing your grip on your sanity, he would run and you would never see him again.

Instead, you leaned forward and captured him in a kiss, silencing yourself before you said something you could not take back.

Pride was filling the room, protecting your own ego’s while destroying anything that tried to infiltrate the walls you’d built up so high.

The two of you needed to hear the word so badly, but you could not let down your guard enough to give each other the satisfaction.

He let out a moan into your mouth as your walls clenched around him. You drank in the sound, letting it settle into your bones and overtake any moral and rationality that still existed. In that moment, after hearing a sound, no, tasting a sound so beautiful, you would have given your whole life for him without a second thought, just so you might be able to experience it again.

“Cum for me, angel.” He was begging you, and this time he had little choice in hiding it. “Please, baby.” The vulnerability in the two words absolutely shattered your psyche, and you no longer had control of the climax. There was no holding back, even if you wanted to. Your legs locked around him and your stomach burned as the muscles tightened. The pleasure you were feeling was maddening, and the only thought you could form was his name. It fell from your lips like a prayer, but there was no holy entity that could save you from his wrath. You had reached the pits of hell and there was no way you could climb your way out of it, now. The embers were familiar, and the brazen flames were inviting. The truth was harrowing, but you knew you would live within his sin happily for the rest of eternity. He made the worst of suffering seem pleasant, and he could even make the cold grasp of death seem comforting.

As you were coming down from the high, he pulled back from the warm embrace of your arms wrapped around his neck. You were so weak that you could not even mourn the loss of the closeness. He took one quick glance over your shoulder, ensuring that there was nothing laying on the table behind you. When he noticed the area was clear, he pushed your top half down on the table with the ferocity of a wild animal. He cushioned your head as you descended onto the frigid granite countertop, but did not care too much about your shock at the change in temperature. With a rough motion, he pulled your hips towards him again, tapping your leg so you knew to keep them locked around him.

With the new found freedom, he resumed his pace with a whole new type of strength. The obscenities falling from your lips were filthy, painting the kitchen with a sinful memory you would remember fondly for years to come. One of his hands trailed up your stomach, the light tickle offset the burning overstimulation from the movement of his hips. His fingers settled loosely around your neck, but he did not apply any pressure straight away. His thumb and index finger landed on your pulse points, and his eyes watched your face closely, clouded with desire and heavy with love.

“Can you do it again, sweet girl?” His voice was husky, his fingers tightening a little more with every word he spoke.

“I don’t think I can,” you whined, unsure if the burn of the overstimulation would ever subside into the pleasure he so often gave you. His pace felt bruising, and the pain for once seemed to overshadow the enjoyment.

“You can, baby.” He encouraged. “You’re being so good for me, angel. Just one more.” You choked out a moan at the sound of his sweet words. He slipped his other hand between your legs, his thumb tracing circles over your clit as he tightened his fingers once more. “Or do you just need to me to treat like a whore?” He questioned, his jaw hard set and his stare fiery. “Is that what it takes to get you off? Being treated like a slut?”

“Oh, fuck.” You whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut at his filthy question.

“That’s it, angel.” He hummed, feeling his hips stutter at the look on your face. You had always been his biggest weakness, and even after months of doing the same dance, that never seemed to change. The knot in your belly tightened, the pressure nearly unbearable. He seemed to pry the orgasm from you without even trying. All it took was the right words, and he had you in a complete mess for him. “You take it so good,” he hissed, trying to think of anything other than how good you felt wrapped around him.

His hand locked in against your throat, constricting the blood flow to your head. Your heart was pounding against your chest, the sound filling your ears and begging to be felt behind your eyes. You tried to keep your gaze focused on his face, his hair sticking to the soft, tan skin in the most delicious way. His eyebrows were furrowed together, and the animalistic expression was driving you mad. Your head felt woozy and your chest burned for air. Your eyes fluttered closed as the pressure reached its peak, and for a moment you feared that you might fall unconscious because of his unwavering hold. The pleasure was skewing his judgment, and he was teetering on a dangerous line. With both hands focused intently on you, you descended into a climax with no way of voicing your euphoria. A raspy croak left your lips to let him know you were there, but he could feel the clench of your cunt around him and the lock of your legs drawing him further into you.

He caught your eye, noticing the far away look and instantly feeling a wave of panic. He released his hold on your neck, allowing the blood flow to return and a breath of air fill your lungs. As you rode out the high, he let his fingers gently massage the place they’d just assaulted while he fucked you through it. When you relaxed against him, he couldn’t hold himself back any longer. His hips stuttered and pleasure took over, sending him over the same edge you’d just fallen from. He spilled his release into you, his pace remaining steady until he milked every second of pleasure from the orgasm as he could. He leaned back slightly, watching as he fucked his release back into you. The sight nearly brought him into a second climax, intoxicated by the fact that only he was lucky enough to have you in such a way.

When his hips slowed to a stop, a lazy smile crossed both of your faces. “Sorry, I just couldn’t help myself.” He chuckled, letting his eyes drift over your chest still clothed with his t-shirt.

“I’m not complaining.” You assured him.

“Are you okay?” He asked, inspecting your neck. There was lingering redness from where his fingers were holding you, but it seemed superficial.

“I am.” You promised. “What’s gotten into you this morning?” His purchase of food and the sweetness of his morning wake-up was different than usual. Paired with the carnal desire and the overly concerned look in his eyes, you began to fear he was feeling the exact same way as you were.

“I don’t know.” He lied, giving a small laugh to avoid the subject. He knew exactly what had gotten into him, but it was the last thing he wanted to talk about. He was terrified of the love he had for you in his heart, and he was nowhere near ready to bring it up. “Let’s get cleaned up.” He said, running a gentle thumb over your blushed cheek. Your eyes fluttered closed at the feeling, and for a moment, you wished to stay there all day immersed in the moment of intimacy. You turned your head to the side, placing a small kiss on the pad of his thumb. The small gesture made his knees weak and nearly sent him falling to the ground. His heart sang with affection for you and his stomach twisted into knots.

He was a dead man walking, and you were not far behind him.

With his help, you slid from the counter and made your way to the bathroom. You cleaned up first, your eyes lingering on the shower, yearning for the feeling of warm water soothing your aching muscles. You pulled your shirt over your head and took a step towards the faucet, flicking it on without a second thought. You looked over your shoulder at him, an eyebrow raised in inquiry.

“You want me to fuck you in the shower, now?” He laughed. “What’s gotten into you?”

“No,” you shook your head, your voice quiet and anxious. You weren’t sure why you asked, but you desperately hoped that he would agree. The simple innocent intimacy seemed enticing, and you so badly wanted to be surrounded by his comfort for a little while longer. “Just a shower.”

“Oh,” he tried to hide the surprise in his tone, not wanting you to take it the wrong way. “Of course, angel.” He couldn’t seem to muster the strength to voice his enthusiasm over the idea, but his whole body was filled with delight at the thought of showering with you.

A small smile crossed your lips as you stepped inside, holding your hand out to him. He stepped towards you, his hand landing delicately in your own. When he was under the water with you, he slid the door shut, the steam already billowing around you both and fogging the glass. His arms snaked around your waist, pulling your body into his as the droplets washed down over both of you.

“Do you have anything else to do today?” You asked, your palm pressed lightly against his chest as you gazed up in admiration at his face.

“Nothing more important than this.”

Casual was long gone, and you were digging your graves. The final resting places were side by side, a tunnel dug through the earth so you could decompose hand in hand until the end of eternity.

“You must have really missed me, then.” You smiled, brushing the wet hair from his face.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” He teased, placing a kiss to the top of your head. You both knew he missed you more than words could express, and you missed him just the same. For a moment, the two of you remained in each other's arms in silent bliss. Then, you reluctantly pulled away from him to reach for the bottle of shampoo that was on the shelf behind him. “Here,” he whispered, reaching for the bottle. You handed it to him, confused at his motive. You watched as he poured a small amount into the palm of his hand, then he placed it back on the shelf. He motioned for you to turn around, which you did without argument. His hand came to your head and he slowly began massaging the shampoo into your mess of tangled locks.

You closed your eyes and leaned against him, enjoying the soothing touch and feeling your chest ache with the intensity of adoration you held for him. You weren’t sure you’d ever experienced such kindness and gentleness at the hands of another, and you had no idea why you ever doubted that it would be from him that you received it. When he was certain your hair was fully coated in shampoo, a smile began to eat away at his lips as he brought all of your hair together at the top of your head.

“What are you doing?” You giggled, feeling the shake of laughter run through his body.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it.” He dismissed you, still trying to form your hair together.

“If you’re trying to get it to stand up, it’s not going to work.” You couldn’t hold back your laughter, finding the childish humor contagious.

“You have no faith in me.” He let out a disapproving tsk, reaching his arms upwards in hopes that the makeshift mohawk would stay. For a few seconds, it stood, then it toppled over under the weight of the soap. The two of you burst out into laughter as the hair fell into your face, splattering the soap across your skin in a dramatic fashion.

“For good reason.” You explained, stepping forward into the water to wash the suds away from your eyes. He took a step towards you again, raising his hands to your head to help you wash the shampoo out. “Your turn.” You said, ringing the water from your hair as you stepped out from under the shower head.

“My turn?” He questioned, looking down at you with curiosity. You let out a hum of agreement, nodding your head.

“Unless you don’t want to use my shampoo, then it’s okay.” You digressed, worried that he might not want to smell your memory long after he went home.

“No, it’s okay.” He promised, fearful he gave you the wrong impression. A smile crossed your lips as you reached for the bottle again, this time bringing your hands to his hair as you massaged the soap throughout his long locks. When the soap was sufficiently sudsy, you compiled all of his hair into a neat little knot on the top of his head.

“I don’t think I’m tall enough.” You giggled.

“That’s okay, angel.” He found your laughter contagious, both of you giggling at nothing other than the joy that came from being together. Before you washed your hands free of soap, you quickly swiped a few of the bubbles onto his nose. “Hey!” He scolded, trying his best to look down at the bubbles littering his face. He reached forward, snaking his arms around your waist as he pulled you into him. You let out a shriek of laughter as he leaned down to kiss you, inevitably getting soap all over you, too. The blissful bubble the two of you existed within in that moment was impenetrable.

But, all good things must come to an end eventually, and not even your perfect little world was safe from the harshness of reality.

You both finished washing yourselves, reluctantly stepping out of the warm water and into the cold air. You tossed a towel at Jake while you grabbed one for yourself, wrapping your body in the fluffy fabric and relieving yourself from the frigid air. Once you were both sufficiently dry, Jake wrapped the towel tightly around his waist, watching you as you secured yours around your chest. You grabbed a smaller towel from your closet, wrapping your hair in it and settling it on your head.

You walked out of the bathroom, looking over your shoulder to make sure he was following. He thought it was laughable that you worried he wasn’t, because if he had it his way, he’d never let you stray too far away. He followed you into your bedroom, hoping for a second that your towel would falter. The boyish part of his brain never left, and he seemed to always be in that state of mind around you; pure, unadulterated joy that knew no bounds. He was always excited to see you naked, even if he’d seen it a hundred times. He was always thrilled to see a smile on your face or a laugh stuck on your lips. He loved listening to the words you had to say, even if they were mindless insults thrown his way. You brought out the part in him he thought he’d lost long ago, and he was afraid of the feeling fleeing him again.

As you dressed yourself, he watched intently. It was not in a sexual way, nor with any hidden desire. He loved admiring you even in the simplest of ways. He didn’t move to find clothes of his own until one of his t-shirts was hanging down to your thighs and a pair of shorts was secure underneath. He slipped on a pair of his sweatpants he’d brought with him and discarded his towel in your laundry hamper.

“I suppose we should probably eat.” You chuckled, stepping towards him but going no further. He smiled at your comment, realizing that you’d left your breakfast without a second thought. His hand landed on your waist as he pulled you into him, and he placed a soft kiss on your lips.

“Let’s go, then.” He always wanted you to move first, just so he could be certain you wanted it and weren’t doing it just because he wanted to. You lead him back to the kitchen, looking over the counter that you’d just disgraced with your sinful actions. At the memory, another feeling of arousal blossomed in the pit of your stomach. Instead of acting on them, you grabbed your coffee cup and stuck it in the microwave. He grabbed two plates and put the respective sandwiches on them. When the microwave beeped, he passed the food to you to warm next while sipping on his cold coffee.

He’d grown to like it that way, because with you around, he never seemed to drink it while it was still warm, and you had yet to hear a single complaint about it.

“Thanks for getting this,” you hummed, taking a sip from your own cup. You’d still neglected to process that you were breaking the only rule you’d put in place. He did not order breakfast for any spiteful reason, or to push your boundaries; he did it simply because it felt right, and he was itching to do something nice for you after going so many days without you.

“No need for thanks.” He said, brushing off the acknowledgement. He felt no desire to be praised for something he was so eager to do. Once your food was heated sufficiently, you held your plate tightly in your hand, thinking intently about your next move. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” You looked up at him, your eyes catching his own for a moment. The sweetness in his stare made your next choice the easiest one you’d ever made.

“Come with me.” You nodded down the hallway, hoping he wouldn’t protest. Little did you know, he’d never say no to anything you asked of him. You led him through the dining room, all the way to the end of the hallway where a door sat, rarely opened and never seen by a guest before that day. You balanced your coffee cup on your plate carefully, twisting the knob with great caution. You took a deep breath as you pushed the door open, willing yourself to keep moving forward as you stepped inside.

He was close behind you, silent and eyes wandering the new room he had yet to see. When you were fully inside and waiting for him to join you, he took a step inside, too. His eyes scanned the walls, an unfamiliar feeling rising in his chest as he drank in the detail and tried his best to sear it into his memory. Your heart was erratic against your ribs, your anxiety plaguing you as you watched his expression intently.

The picture frames decorated the walls, leaving little room to spare. Some were so close together that the delicate designs of the frames blended together. They were filled with photographs of smiling faces, so bright and beautiful that it nearly took his breath away. The daylight poured in from the windows, casting a golden glow over every object that made home inside the room. In the middle sat a piano, the top looking slightly dusty from months of being forgotten about. Piano books littered the few bookshelves that fit on the walls between the picture frames. On one sat an old camera that looked to be from the nineties, and just below it sat an acoustic guitar on a stand that appeared to be homemade.

“Welcome to my life.” You whispered, taking a seat on the bench sat in front of the piano. “What do you think?”

“I can’t believe you’ve been hiding this all this time.” He breathed, exasperated at the thought. “This piano is stunning.” He said, taking a step towards it and gently running his hand over the top.

“Thanks.” You gave a small smile, still incredibly anxious to have another person in your space. It was a room full of memories that you did not like sharing with anyone else, and aside from very few people, he had been the first to see it. There was a trust in your heart for him that you couldn’t comprehend, and for a moment, you felt like you could tell him everything.

“Did you take all of these pictures?” He asked, now stepping towards the walls. He was beyond excited that you finally took the step to show him a part of yourself you liked to keep hidden, but he did not want to express it too loudly in fear it might ruin the moment.

“Most of them.” You replied, watching him as he took in the photographs. “Every one of them that I’m not in.” You clarified, chuckling at the fact. “It’s mostly just pictures of my family.” It was true; there were pictures hung on the wall ranging back to when your hands first held a camera, and up until the recent years when your skill had vastly improved. It was mostly your parents and your sister, but there were a few of your childhood pets and friends.

“Is that your mom and dad?” He asked, pointing to a picture of a couple he did not recognize.

“Yep,” you nodded, smiling at his interest. You wanted to say more, but the words seemed stuck in your throat. You were having a hard time processing your desire to tell him more, so you sat with it instead of acting on it.

“You look just like your mom.” He noted. “You have your dads smile, though.” Your heart warmed at the sentiment. “That must be your sister, too, because you look like twins.” He pointed to a different picture.

“It is.” You chuckled.

“I can’t wait to meet her. If she’s anything like you, I know I’ll love her.” You both dusted over the ‘L’ word as if it were nothing at all, barely registering the fact he’d said it.

“She is pretty great, but I think I’m biased.” You grinned. When it came to your sister, you would talk praise until you could no longer hear yourself speak.

“You take stunning photographs, y/n.” He said, not a hint of a joke in his tone. Your cheeks reddened as you bit into your sandwich. You let the compliment hang in the air for a moment before responding.

“Thank you, Jake.” You said, feeling the fear melt away the longer you sat together. “Did you… did you want to play a song on the guitar, maybe?” You asked, hesitancy written all over your face. You thought that it was finally time to take the step, and now that he knew such intimate details about you, you craved the same from him.

“You want to hear me play?” He turned back to you, shocked at your words.

“Yeah.” You nodded, certain of that fact. “Just… just be careful with it, please. I don’t want anything to happen to it. The strings are old, too, so it might not sound the best.”

“Of course.” He assured you, carefully grabbing the acoustic from the stand. Your stomach was twisting with anxiety as he held the instrument in his hands, but you managed to swallow your fear. “This is a beautiful guitar, too.” You hummed an agreement, knowing that he wasn’t just saying it as a formality. It was a stunning instrument, and it was your most prized possession. He walked over, taking a seat beside you on the bench as he settled the body in his lap. Carefully, he plucked the strings and tuned them to his liking. “Anything in particular you want to hear?” You pondered the thought for a moment, knowing there were plenty of songs you’d love to hear him play, but curious about what he would choose. After a few seconds, you shook your head.

He looked over your face, knowing that his best shot to impress you might also give him a chance at expressing his feelings for you at the same time. Carefully, he began a melodic intro, carefully plucking away at the strings as he smiled at your expression of awe. With a lot of courage, he sang softly along with the sound of the guitar, trying to hide the nervousness in his voice.

“Well she's walking through the clouds

With a circus mind

That's running wild

Butterflies and zebras and moonbeams

And-a fairly tales

That's all she ever thinks about

Riding with the wind

When I'm sad she comes to me

With a thousand smiles

She gives to me free

"It's alright", she says

It's alright

Take anything you want from me

Anything

Fly on, little wing.” Slowly, he stopped playing, looking up from his hands with a hopeful expression.

“You really are a rockstar,” you gave a soft smile “that was fantastic.” Deep down, you hoped that he picked that song for the reason you wanted him to, but you were too nervous to ask.

“Thank you, angel.” He smiled, looking down at his hands to hide the redness that was plaguing his cheeks.

“I didn’t know you could sing, too.”

“I usually leave the singing to Josh.” He admitted, brushing some dust off the body of the guitar. “He’s way better than I am.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” You whispered, the profound emotion in your statement almost too much for him to handle.

“I, uh, I didn’t know you played guitar, too.” He changed the topic, feeling the burn of love begin to sear the skin of his lips as he tried to hold it back.

“Oh, I don’t.” You chuckled. “I tried to learn when I was a kid, but it’s not my thing. I kind of sucked at it, if I’m being honest. The piano has always been my choice of instrument.”

“So where’d you get this?” He asked, inspecting the details of the fretboard.

“It’s my dads.” You replied, swallowing down your sadness with a sip of coffee. “He played it all of the time when I was a kid. He tried to teach me, but I was too stubborn to learn.”

“And that camera is his, too?” He asked, his eyes flickering back towards the bookshelf on the wall. “I remember you told me you used your dads camera when you started doing photography.” Your heart fluttered at the thought of him remembering all the small details you told him.

“Yeah, it is. For an old camera, it takes pretty good pictures.” You tried not to let your stare linger on the camera, feeling the sorrow fill your chest up so much that it made it hard to breathe.

“You must be pretty close to him,” he noted.

“You can say that.” You gave a slow nod. “My dad was my best friend for my entire childhood. We did everything together, and so much so that I think it made my sister jealous sometimes. Wherever he was, I had to go with him. Mom got mad at him a lot, because he never said no to me. We’d stay up until midnight watching cartoons and we’d eat ice cream for breakfast on the weekends.” You explained, looking down at your hands as you spoke. “He was just one of those people that understood me, and I think when you’re a girl growing up, not many people do. He always listened, and he always had the best advice. I love my mom, but my dad and I were just… we got along better than anyone else in the world, I think.”

“That’s sweet,” he smiled, looking over at you with adoration in his eyes. He was thrilled to hear so much about you, and he never thought the two of you would get to this point. “I’d love to meet him.” You looked up, catching his eye with a sympathetic smile.

“He would have loved you.” You replied, seeing the light in his eyes change. He wanted clarification before he spoke further, and you could see that in his expression. “He passed away not long before I graduated high school.”

“Y/n, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.” He felt bad for his earlier words, even if he did not know the truth.

“Don’t be,” you shook your head “you didn’t know.” You reached over, brushing a strand of his long hair out of his face. “I was lucky to know him for as long as I did, and I’m still just as lucky to have him as a memory. Seventeen years with him was equivalent to a lifetimes worth of love. I wish he was still here, but I know that he’s not really gone. He’s in that guitar, and that camera, and he’s proud of every accomplishment and he’s still picking me up off the ground when I fall.” You explained. Although you knew it might not be true, it always felt like it was. Since he died, you neglected to believe that he just lived when he was alive. You felt the love so strongly sometimes that it was impossible to believe he wasn’t still around in some way. “He really would have liked you, I think. He loved Jimi Hendrix, too.” You laughed, finding his song choice impeccable.

You weren’t sure what it was, but you felt the confession sitting heavy on your chest when you looked at him for too long. Whether it was the blatant vulnerability, or the way he looked at you the same even after you expressed such horrible things about your life. Whatever it was, the moment made you want to scream your love for him, even if you knew you shouldn’t. You had never been so transparent with anyone before, and you never wanted to be so open about your life, but there was something so compelling about him that it was impossible to ignore the desire to be close to him.

“Jimi Hendrix is pretty good.” Jake laughed, astounded by the strength that lived within you. He didn’t think it was possible to admire someone as much as he did for you, but here he was, sitting in front of you and feeling all of the feelings he believed to be impossible.

The air was different, and both of you could tell that whatever dynamic you had before that day had shifted drastically.

For good or for bad, you weren’t sure yet.

You turned inwards, placing your hands on the keys of the piano. You did not want to show off, nor did you want to prove your own talents; the moment was moving, and all you wanted to do was share more of yourself with him. You began a slow intro, working yourself up to speed. It had been a while since you played, and it was fantastic to feel the keys on your fingers and the sound fill your heart.

“I've got a little black book with my poems in

Got a bag with a toothbrush and a comb in

When I'm a good dog, they sometimes throw me a bone in.” You took in a long breath, nervous to be showing such an intimate part of you to him. Little to your knowledge, he was watching you with hearts in his eyes and nothing but love in his heart.

“I got elastic bands keepin' my shoes on

Got those swollen-hand blues

I got thirteen channels of shit on the T.V. to choose from

I've got electric light

And I've got second sight

I got amazing powers of observation

And that is how I know

When I try to get through

On the telephone to you

There'll be nobody home.” You closed your eyes for a moment, playing for a little longer than you needed to so you could regain your composure. Quietly, you could hear him picking away at the guitar, not in an attempt to outshine you, but to accentuate your playing. The two of you were in perfect harmony, moving in time with the music surrounded with more comfortability than you’d ever felt in your entire life. Your heart felt like it was going to burst with the emotion you felt for him.

“I've got the obligatory Hendrix perm

And the inevitable pinhole burns

All down the front of my favourite satin shirt

I've got nicotine stains on my fingers

I've got a silver spoon on a chain

Got a grand piano to prop up my mortal remains

I've got wild staring eyes

And I've got a strong urge to fly

But I got nowhere to fly to

Ooh, babe when I pick up the phone

there's still nobody home.” You hit the last few notes, letting the sound ring through the quiet room. You looked up, staring at the wall for a moment to gather your thoughts before turning back towards him.

“You’ve got quite the voice, angel.”

“It’s nothing to call home about.” You chuckled, taking a long drink from your coffee.

“I think it is. I’d tell the whole world about you, if I could.” In that moment, the ability to hold back his thoughts fled him. “I… I think that you’re fantastic, y/n, and I hope that you know that.” You looked up at him, nervous about the confession but knowing that you felt the same way. “And I think that I’d like to do this part… more often.”

“What are you saying?” You breathed, trying to understand if he was expressing what you thought he was trying to say. Anxiety gripped you with its deadly force, panic overtaking your mind before you could even appreciate the sentiment in his words.

“Come on, sweetheart.” He sighed, hating that he couldn’t seem to keep the feelings buried. “You can’t tell me you don’t feel it, too. We’re in here, showing each other parts of our lives we try so hard to keep hidden. This has been more than sex for a very long time, and I think that you know it, too.” A spark of terror filled you, and you recoiled away from him. He was right, but your fear was larger than your heart, just like it always had been. Love was less daunting when it was buried underneath the surface, and when he expressed it so outwardly and obviously, it morphed into the monster that only lived in your worst nightmares. You weren’t ready to discuss it, and you weren’t ready for anything to change. By speaking it aloud, it changed everything, and you could not stomach that thought in the moment. Change was terrifying, and you did not have enough strength to endure it.

So you did what you knew best; you shut down and locked him out, your heart rebuilding the thick iron bars that often protected it so furiously.

“I brought you in here because we’re friends.” You took the defense, terrified of speaking the truth because you had not yet processed what it truly meant. Your vulnerability had taken a toll, and you began to realize that you had dug yourself a hole too steep to climb out of. You loved him so deeply that it pained you, that it made opening up to him easier than anything else, but facing it was an entirely different thing. Your harshness did not come from your lack of love, but from your abundance of it. You loved him so much, but you did not know how to love anymore. As much as it hurt to reject him when all you wanted to do was fall into his arms forever, you knew it was the best thing to do. You would hurt him more by trying to love him than you ever would if you rejected him. “You were so desperate to be friends, and I thought that was all you wanted. You can’t… we can’t.” You shook your head.

“Friends.” He reiterated, unable to explain the incessant ache in his chest at the word. “Right.” He was angry at himself for ever pushing that title on you, and he wondered if it would have made the difference if he didn’t.

“Jake,” you warned, pleading for him to listen before he jumped to any conclusions. You did not want to end your relationship, but you did want to slow down before things got out of control.

“No, y/n. I hear you loud and clear.” He said, making a move to stand. “You’re right.” His obstinacy had rivalled your own since the very beginning, and you could finally see the infuriating effects of it. His lack of understanding prompted a rush of anger through you.

“You don’t get to do that!” You shook your head, standing up with him.

“I don’t get to do what?” He snapped back, placing the guitar back on the stand with great caution. His words were harsh, but his actions were not. He would never disrespect an item of such importance to you, no matter how upset he was. “I don’t get to be upset? I don’t get to talk about the things that I’m feeling?”

“Christ, Jake, stop putting words in my mouth!” You were panicking, and all of your fear was projecting outwards with an angry mask. You were terrified of loving him, but you were horrified at the thought of him leaving. You did not know what to do to make it better; if you said you loved him, you would be sealing your own grave, and if you didn’t, he would walk away and you would lose him for good. “I didn’t say that, and you know that!”

“Then what? What is it, y/n?” He sighed, watching you with a small shred of hope that you’d double back on your word. He knew you felt it too, and it killed him that you refused to accept it. The entire day was filled with nothing but wordless acts of love, and to deny it and throw it all in the garbage was worse than any physical injury you could cause him.

“You said this wouldn’t happen. You promised that you wouldn’t do this, and then you come here, and you treat me better than anyone ever has, and you make coffee, and you text me just to let me know you’re thinking of me, and then you buy me fucking breakfast!” You exploded, pointing to the coffee cup still sat on the piano stool.

“Jesus Christ, it always comes back to fucking breakfast! Please enlighten me on what is so bad about it?” He yelled back, just as much intensity in his voice.

“Because I don’t know if you’re going to wake up tomorrow and change your mind!” You admitted, running a hand through your hair. “I don't know if you’re doing all of this because you want me to keep sleeping with you, or if you truly mean it. I don’t know anything, and I don’t want to be in love, and I never wanted this!” You did not want to be in love, but by god, you were. If it had been anyone else, they would have been gone before they had the chance to order breakfast. They would never have stepped foot into the room you were fighting in, and in truth, you never would have brought them home at all. If it were anyone other than Jake, you would not have looked twice, but you were so head over heels for him that you were fighting for him to stay, even if it did not seem like that was what you were doing. He watched you, carefully inspecting every detail of your pained expression. Questioning his care for you was the most heinous act you’d ever committed. You knew he cared, and he knew you did, too, but you were so damaged that it was easier to convince yourself that he didn’t. Although he held sympathy for that fact, he could not seem to choke down the pain that you caused with your sharp tongue and violent words. “You promised me, Jake. You promised this wouldn’t happen.”

“I did.” He nodded, casting his gaze towards the ground. “And I meant it. You don’t have to fucking worry about it.” He could not fight another losing battle, and he knew that was exactly what this was. He could not win your heart if it was never offered as a reward. You did not want him to love you, and he could not force you to let him. Instead, he was walking away.

Well, he was threatening it whilst hoping you would ask him to stay.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” You knew it was not justified, but you were hurt over the fact that he wanted to take his confession back. You felt it just the same as he did, but you were too scared to admit it. All he could see was rejection, and the injury was bleeding both of you dry. He wasn’t even sure why you were fighting, or where it came from. The sweetness that had carried you through the morning was long gone, replaced with a feeling he’d never felt around you before: resentment. He resented the situation, but in that moment, it felt like he resented you.

“Exactly what I said; you don’t have to fucking worry about it.” He repeated, venomous and dangerous. A different man stood before you than the one you knew just moments before. This one was cold, unfamiliar, and someone you did not want to be around. The heartbreak turned him vile, and now all he wanted to do was hurt you the same way you were hurting him.

“So that’s it?” You whispered, feeling the room fill with anguish. Your safest space now housed the worst of memories. The situation turned into everything you feared most, but you were the only one to blame. Had you been able to admit to all you were feeling in your heart, the situation may have changed for the better.

“That’s it.” He agreed. “You don’t have to worry about me falling in love. You don’t even have to worry about me liking you. No love, no feelings, nothing. You were a great lay, but not worth much more than that, sweetheart. I hate that I ever thought otherwise, but you are just sex to me. That’s it.” He didn’t mean a thing he was saying, but he was so blinded by hurt that anger was the only thing he could show. If he could have taken the words back, he would have. The pain in your eyes nearly brought him to his knees, and he knew he would never be able to repent from the suffering he caused.

“I have no idea why I ever thought you were different.” You spat, the choke of tears beginning to suffocate you. “I can’t believe I let myself fall for it.” You muttered to yourself. “Get out, Jake, and don’t ever come back.”

“My pleasure.” He agreed, pushing past you without another word. You did not even turn to watch him walk away, instead settling your gaze on the guitar that he’d tainted with his touch. You heard him gather his things into his bag, and after a few moments, the slam of your front door let you know that the struggle was over. He was gone, and he would never return, just like you asked. You had pushed him away to the point of no recovery, and the tears that stained your cheeks reminded you that you were the sole blame for the failure of your relationship.

Pride has outweighed sloth in every aspect, but the sins you had committed for once were completely different than Jake’s.

He had too much pride to apologize, and too much pride to recognize that you were hurting more than he was. If he had swallowed his feelings for a moment to see the ache that was plaguing you, he would have understood that your rejection was not because of a lack of love, but because of an abundance of fear. You loved him just as fiercely as he loved you, but you were so damaged from the love that came before him. You could not choke down that hurt, and you could not see past it for long enough to recognize that he only had your best interest in mind. Jake did not want to hurt you, and he would never have treated you in the ways that others had, but you had pushed him to the point of cruelty. It took a lot for him to muster the courage to say how he was feeling, and you had faced him with nothing but bold-faced rejection.

His attempt at protecting himself only made him more vulnerable, and in turn, only hurt the person he loved most. The cruel words he said were not true, and they replayed in his head for the entire drive home. Pride made it so he appeared stone cold, and that his feelings were more important than yours. In truth, there was nothing more important to him than the sound of your beating heart and the things that made it possible to do so. He wished so badly that he could have put his guard down for a moment, to let you in and tell you everything he wanted to say to you. Instead, his last heartbreak left so little of him to give to you and he could not face the truth without defenses.

He was plagued with the knowledge that other people took so much of him that he could not give you all that you deserved.

Your sinful entanglement with pride came from your inability to confess your true feelings to him. You were too prideful to realize that he needed to hear it more than you needed to keep it hidden, and you were too stubborn to admit that you knew he would keep all of your confessions safe. Instead of facing the truth, you wallowed in the consequences of dishonesty. You loved his sweet words and his messages confessing that he missed you. He did treat you better than anyone ever had, and you knew that it was not because he wanted to keep you on a hook, but because of the love he held for you in his heart. Most of all, you knew that you loved sharing a breakfast with him while you shared the most intimate details of your lives.

You loved Jake with all of your heart and soul, and you had never loved anyone with quite as much intensity. You loved him selflessly and wholly, and although you loved being alone, you loved being alone with him even more. You knew that he was what your heart desired most, but for some reason, when he confessed his own likeness to your heart, you could not handle the profound feelings. You were terrified, and that much was obvious, but it was even more than that. You could not handle someone as wonderful as Jake loving you so deeply, because you did not feel like you deserved it. You could not imagine bestowing your own sorrows and suffering upon him, and you could not bear the thought of making his life harder when he made yours so much better.

He was too prideful to show that you hurt him, and you were too prideful to let him know that he had the ability to hurt you. He let you know that he cared for you, but he could not see past his own hurt enough to realize that your words had nothing to do with his character. He took it personally when it had nothing to do with him at all. You could not admit that you cared, but it was not because it was him you cared about. Loving him was easier than falling asleep, but being in love was a dangerous game, and you feared if you fell again, you might not survive it.

Lust drove you to each other, and his otherworldly charm made you gluttonous. You needed him so badly that you had resorted to greed, and sloth had paralyzed you into submission at the hands of love. Pride, although not the most powerful sin, seemed to be the most deadly yet. It had driven you away from the only home you’d ever known, and it ensured that you severed the bond between you with expert precision. Sin was bleeding from the walls as you sat in a pool of your own tears and self pity. You begged for forgiveness, for mercy at the hands of an entity that knew no such thing.

The devil doesn’t bargain, and he was ensuring that you would suffer the consequences of your own mistakes. You were so far gone that the grace of God could not touch you, and the only relief could come from Satan himself.

When fate is in the hands of evil itself, hope is a feeble word, and any shred of hope you still held in your heart had been struck down without a trace.

With only two of the capital vices left to go, sin seemed like the only thing you knew how to do. You feared that after so long of defying the gods, salvation would never be found.

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