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#why would you even want to bring your bird there
grapenamjams · 2 days
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Trust In The Dark
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Characters: Sylus x Fem. Reader
Genre: NSFW SMUT
Synopsis: After spending three days in a palace with invisible servents. You begin to forget why the Zephyr west wind brought you here. As you blow out the last candle pitching your room into full darkness one night. You are reminded of the reason as you hear your husbands deep voice emerges from the night.
Words: 4,284
Contains: porn with plot, Forced marriage, probably out of character sylus, sylus is the god Eros, Virgin reader, first time sex, nipple sucking (f. Receiving), oral (f. Receiving), mentions of fem. Overstim, P in V Intercourse, mutual orgasm, pet names (my sweet, I think there is one sweetie in there, my lady, my love, little bird)
A/N: first time writing sylus please be nice to meee T-T
I’ve wanted to write an Eros and psyche myth inspired fic for awhile now and I thought sylus fit perfectly! So here we are
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The myth: Eros and psyche, a Greek myth told throughout time. Psyche was a humble maiden who was said to be as or even more beautiful than Aphrodite herself. When the goddess of love heard the mortals were worshiping psyche instead; in a jealous rage Aphrodite sent her son Eros to shoot psyche with one of his arrows, demanding that the maiden fall in love with the most terrible monster. When Eros saw psyche he fell in love with her beauty but also her humble kind heart. He struck himself with his own arrow. Completing his mother’s wishes. Just as it was told by the oracle psyche went to visit, she was destined to marry a monster the gods even fear. Carried by the wind to a magical palace in the sky. Psyche had everything she could ask for but there was one thing that was asked of her in return. she could only meet her husband in the darkness of night.
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“Was the palace to your liking?”
He hears your quick intake of breath and the rustle of fabric indicating you had turned around to where you heard his deep voice emerge from the open balcony doors. Sylus didn’t mean to frighten you. But when you were both covered in darkness, there wasn’t much room for subtlety for when he made his presence known.
“Who-“ you pause “Youre him…” your sweet voice comes from a couple of steps ahead of him. His heart flutters at the sound, being able to hear it up close for the first time. but at the same time his heart pangs at the sound of the slight quiver in it. Sylus manages a light chuckle at your statement. “Your husband? Yes, that would be me.” Sylus smiles although you wouldn’t be able to see it. He liked how it sounded, husband. Yours.
The chuckle that he let out seemed to wrap around you in dark tendrils. Inciting you to seek out the source of the sound although it had sent a shiver down your back. But you quickly realized it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. “Have you come to kill me?” The question leaves your mouth without thought .
Sylus is not surprised you would ask that. The whole predicament that you found yourself in, made him understand your nervous thoughts and he sought to provide you comfort. “Now my sweet lady, what type of husband would I be if I did so?” He tries for a joke in his gravely voice that’s seems to take your breath away. but when he didn’t hear a reaction, he sighed.
“No. Im not here to kill you. You are my wife, I’ll never bring harm to you, I swear it” his chest aches at just the thought of you being harmed in some way, the pain increasing at the thought of him being the cause.
His deep voice seems to have more affect in the dark. Like it was the only thing wrapping around you,Causing your skin to rise and your heart to stutter at the sound of sincerity and determination in his words.
He takes a cautious step towards where you are. “I simply came here tonight to introduce myself and to see how you were…settling in” he sees your outline shift, thankfully not away from him. But he sensed you knew he had gotten closer. From where his words left his mouth, you imagined he was quite taller than you.
“After three days since I’ve arrived you’ve come to see me?” Your voice steady. Sylus is amused at your bravery in questioning him. he was a stranger in the middle of your bedchamber in the dark.
“I had things I needed to… settle. before being able to see you. I also wanted to give you a chance to settle in. Leaving your home to be married off to a complete stranger… I knew you must have been frightened.”
The care in his tone makes you recognize his consideration for you. further easing your pounding heart. But still you proceeded with caution. “Usually, introductions are not done in the dark” squinting as if that would help reveal the tall stranger.
Again the tendrils of a chuckle wrap around you. “Yes, usually they arnt” but his light words dip with a sigh. “however all of our future meetings will be like this. I’ll only come to visit you at night…that is if you want me to visit” sylus chest constricts at the last part.
You were already in this unwanted marriage with him. Even if you didn’t know it was the only way he could protect you from marrying a Fowler creature. He didn’t want to push you further into something you didn’t want. Although, he desperately let himself hope you would allow him to be in your presence. But if not he could be content with you being safe in the palace he created for you. watching you from afar.
“I don’t understand, Why only at night?” Unease rushes through your body. Remembering the crumbly ancient voice uttering your fate. Sylus senses your emotional shift, clenching a hand against his side, restraining himself to provide a soothing touch.
After a pause, his low voice reaches you in the dark. “to keep you safe. You can’t look at me, you’ll- If you were to see me…, our marriage, us. It will all be gone” he dosnt want to think about that outcome. The thought sears a wound so great into it chest making him hold his breath.
‘If he wants to meet in the dark then does that mean what the oracle said is true?’ The thought races through your mind. But his words have left you feeling wrapped in assurances that he means you no harm. In fact he wants to protect you.“But that -“
“My love, please youll have to trust me” his voice is raised slightly but in a manner that sounds concerned and desperate. Not angry or malicious. He knows this is a big ask, you have no reason too trust him after all.
You hear him step closer. “a monster. A being the gods even fear. That’s who the oracle told me I’d marry”the words leave your mouth. Stopping his advance. Something twists in his chest, he couldn’t deny it. the oracle spoke truth. He lets out a breath. “She is quite dramatic. But I won’t deny them.” Sylus reaches a hand out, his finger tips brushing against yours. Making you jump slightly at the sudden action. “If you let me?” He says softly, Electricity jolting through him at the slightest touch.
You hold your breath as his fingers go over your hand, intertwining with your fingers. Fingers, palm, a hand. A human hand. Your heart picks up once more. No paws, claws or talons. His hands were large and surprisingly soft, except for the callouses on his fingertips, his grip firm.
“The gods may fear me, yes” you don’t realize how much closer he’s gotten until his whispered voice could be heard between the two of you. “But I am not the type of monster, you think I am” he turns your hand, placing the back of it against his cheek. You can’t help but let out a gasp at the sensation of soft skin. He brings your other hand to cup his face.
Releasing your hands in order for them to touch freely. Sylus shivers at your tentative caresses. Fingers moving along his face. His set narrow nose, eyelids, sharp angled jaw and nicely formed lips. He certainly felt human. Not at all a fury, sharp toothed, horned monster you had conjured in your mind, while pacing the floor of your room when you got back home from seeing the oracle.
Your hands trail down his neck. Your eyes widening in the dark at the feel of his firm exposed chest. The fabric himation wrap he wore, allowing parts of his chest and torso to be bare. You swear you hear him let out a shaky breath. He felt human…very human.
hands go over his broad shoulders. When they dip over to his back, that is when he sucks in a breath, his body stiffening. His hands hold your wrists bringing them back to his face.
Unknown to you, if you had gone further down his back you’d feel the softness of woven feathers making up beautiful white wings. His lips brush against your knuckles gently. “It seems this is all i have to offer you. Vauge words and a body shouded in darkness. But know i have already given you my heart and unending love and devotion. If you accept it of course”.
The stranger before you had provided you a home.a palace with everything you could ever ask for. Your favorite dish brought to you by invisible servents before you finished uttering the words ‘I’m hungry’. But most of all even in darkness you belived his words. Felt his scincerty and promises. The stranger before you was your husband giving you his heart.
Your hands pressed against his chest as you drew closer. Tilting your head up whispering a question “What should I call you?” Sylus takes this as your first steps to accepting him and it almost makes him smile. If not for the guilt he felt at keeping another part of himself from you. “that’s another thing I can not give to you, little bird.” he sighs, his knuckles caressing your cheek. He couldn’t have you knowing his identity, for your protection and the protection of his heart. “But You may call me husband and maybe with time, beloved”. His thumb rubs your chin.
Disappointed once again at the fact that he has to keep himself hidden from you. You are still willing to accept it, for you felt safe and a sense of unexplainable belonging. “I can’t call you husband” you whispered as a response.
Sylus pauses his caressing, that searing ache returning. Did you decide you couldn’t accept him? Would he even be able to let you go, if you did? Preparing himself for You’re answer he asks “Why not?” His hand now cupping your face rubs his thumb against your cheek wanting to touch you a bit longer before you stepped away from him. But you didn’t, you stepped impossibly closer.
Your heart begins to quicken but not by fear this time. “We haven’t kissed to seal our marriage” you hear him let out a chuckle, the same one that wrapped around you and went through your body in a shiver. Your sweet innocent words pulling at his heart. “In that, you are right, my love” the hand that cups your cheek guides you to his mouth. the ghost of his lips against yours.
In the dark you still close your eyes, waiting for him to close the distance. His fingers go to your chin tilting it up. The wait felt like an eternity. Breath touching skin until he finally presses his lips to yours in the most gentle manner. still giving you a chance to pull away. Instead your hands clutched at the fabric going over one shoulder, pressing your mouth more firmly to his.
Sylus lets out a shaky sigh of relief, capturing your mouth properly against his own. Everything inside him melts at the feel of your lips. They tasted sweeter than ambrosia. He swears you are the source from which is made,the fountain of immortality he would gladly come to drink from time and time again. Another shiver goes through him when he feels your hands move against his chest once more. Making him kiss you more. Your hands continue lowering down his body causing him to break the kiss with a groan. “Are you still not convinced?” He says, breathless.
“I may still need another inspection” and he can’t decide to groan or chuckle at your words. He grabs your hands in his. Pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “Trust me my love. If you continued, I would have reacted like any man would with his wife” He interlaces your hands together. Straightening up. Although his mind races of the thought of being able to provide you pleasure all through the night. He knows tonight had been a lot for you.
“So why don’t you?” You ask. He does chuckle as this, desire shoots through his body once more briefly. “Eager, little bird?” In one swift movement he picks you up, placing you on his hip.
You let out a slight yelp at the sudden position. Arms clinging around his neck to steady yourself as he walks. you begin to stammer. Your brain rushing with thoughts unfit for a lady. “Relax,” there is a smile in his voice so close to your ear. “Tonight I simply wanted to ease your mind about our marriage…about me.”
He bends down and gently places you on the bed. “We will do things at your pace. There is no rush.” hands caress your jaw once more before his hand drops away.
without hesitation you reach out in the dark. Relief finds you when your hand catches on his finger tips. “I want you to…atleast stay”
He lets out a breath trying to expel the affection rising in his chest at your words. He bends down towards you, “gladly”
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Night after night he comes to you followed by a gentle breeze that feels like it’s made by angel wings. The first couple of nights, you two spoke about everything. The night making each word more sacred. Locking them away inside your hearts.
When both of you found yourselves in bed. Slight Touches felt heightened leaving both with shaky breathing between the two. His fingers would glide against your warm skin. Your sides, arms and back with such gentle strokes. As if you were the most fragile sculpture in the world and he was afraid he would harm you. Your own hands, followed the curve of his firm muscles. Memorizing him in the dark. For No matter how much you tried, he never stayed long enough to see him in the light.
As the nights continued even sylus hoped that Apollo would not wake to move the sun. Feeling like each time he left, a piece of him stayed under the covers with you.
Gradually. The night came where words turned into uneven breathes and touches turned more assertive. You had told him you wanted more and he was not one to deny his wife. For where he was lacking he wanted to make up for it in any area he could. So he kisses you with passion. His mouth going to your jaw, moving down your neck. Placing a mark on you, he wishes he could see. But knowing you would see it on yourself in the morning made him bite you again. His thoughts becoming hazy with your sounds and scent. Kissing you further down with teasing sweet words against your skin.
He removes your nightgown, large palms roaming your body like the back of of his hand. He lets out a groan, at how responsive your body is to him. A hand takes your breast before placing his mouth on it, warm tongue swirling the right nipple before sucking.
your hands go through his hair, back arching at the sensation, pressing your chest further into his mouth. Inciting him. His other hand works on your other breast, rubbing and tugging at the nipple between his fingers. Before palming the soft flesh. Sylus drinks up every single reaction you give him. Every breath, shiver, and moan. He feels like he is going drunk on your pleasure. Switching over to give the other the same attention.
When he is satisfied with his efforts. His mouth continues his journey of reverence to you. Leaving opened mouthed kisses on your stomach and sides. Hoping his Affectionate Words sear into your skin just as the love bites he leaves on you.
When he reaches your center. Sylus is hot with desire, it’s almost primal the way he needs to taste you. He nips at your thighs, opening you up for him. And he almost loses it at not being able to see you presented to him, but smelling your intoxicating scent. He curses at his predicament but he finds solace in the fact that he is the first and only one to taste you.
“W-what are you doing near that place?” You ask hesitantly. Never being intimate with a man before you are confused as to why his face is between your most private parts.
He chuckles against your skin. “Trust me, I’m exactly where I am supposed to be, sweetie” he puts your legs over his shoulders, pulling you towards his face. hearing you gasp. “Relax, just focus on making those sweet noises for me, little bird” his rubs down your thigh “if you want me to stop just tell me, okay? But I’m sure you’ll be enjoying. Every second. Of it” with each pause sylus plants a kiss down your thigh until his mouth is right at your center.
He waits a moment to hear any objects. But when there isn’t any. his tongue licks up your heat fully, making him moan into you. “You taste sweeter than nectar, my love” he goes in again but his hands tighten their hold. “Better than any banquet the gods can hold on Olympus” his words muffled.
He curses, he had known that once he had a taste of you. How could he have anything else ever again? How could he possibly leave you when all he wants to do is be between your thighs for nights on end. His tongue lapping at you, creating patterns that has your hands grabbing and pulling at his hair, moaning into the darkness making them even sweeter and precious to him.
He wishes he could see you, how your beautiful face is when your body is filled with pleasure. Pleasure he is providing you. Sylus swirls and sucks on your clit. Pressing his face further into you. He moans against you. In this room, in this palace he had made for you in the sky. He lets himself say praises against you, Wanting to become your most loyal worshiper. Yes, within these walls hidden from those who would want nothing more than to take him away from
You. He worships you like the goddess you are.
He leaves you shuddering and spasming as you hit your climax. His mouth not stopping, in turn he grips harder. Eating you out, until the tingle of overstimulation pluses through you. You tell him wait, and with reluctance sylus leaves his meal but not without a last kiss to your clit. Making you shiver. Sylus would’ve kept going, making you come over and over. tasting you all night. But he could hold off for now. He would take his time with you, build you up, pushing back against your limit each time.
His Lips and a hand trail up your body. His palm resting on your chest feeling it move with uneven breathes making him smile at being able to leave you in such a blissed out state. From your chest his large hand moves to cup the back of your neck, rubbing the tender spot gently before pressing a soft kiss to you.
“From how you sounded just now. Id say you enjoyed” the teasing tilt in his voice makes you let out a breathy laugh as you nod. “You can say that, yes”
you bring his lips back to you, cutting off his gravely chuckle turning it into a throaty moan. His tongue licking your bottom lip asking for permission to enter. His hand at the nape of your neck leaves to squeeze your waist. Pulling your body flushed against him. His obvious display of need pressing against you, covered solely by a fabric wrap.
In time with his kisses your hips unconsciously move. His hand grips your waist with a broken groan. His body tightening with Desire. “Careful now,”a warning wrapped in a dark midnight voice. Only enticing you further. Your hands go across his chest learning these past nights, it is a sensitive spot for him.
He lets out an unsteady breath. “You’re making it difficult for me to take my time with you, my lady”
Your Fingers Going over the ridges of his sculpted torso. “Please, husband” the begging whisper has him desperately taking ahold of his restraint. The ropes threads ripping one by one along with you each inch your hand goes down his front. pushing away the fabric hiding him from you.
If sylus could see your eyes he would’ve seen how they widened at the feel of him in your hand. You go down the length of him. hard and throbbing. He sucks in a breath not helping but to move his hips to get more friction from your hand. wanting you to feel the desire and need he has for you.
Your heart hammers in your chest as you fill with nervousness at what’s to come. You can’t see him but you can most definitely feel his size-“Will it fit?” Falls from your lips before you realize what you said. A amused light laugh rumbles in his chest. “Trust me it will” his hand goes through your hair “I’ll take care of you, don’t worry”.
He presses a kiss to your jaw and neck as he lifts himself up in order to hover above you. His body is tense with need, pulling on that rope inside of him, holding on to his control.
he positions himself at your entrance. Telling you gently that you may feel pain but to focus on him. His voice is filled with such care when he Makes you promise you’ll tell him to stop if it hurts to much. When he is satisfied with your reassurance he places his mouth on yours, hoping to distract you when he pushes himself into you ever so slowly into your awaiting warmth.
Sylus lets out a groan against your mouth, eyebrows furrowing in effort to keep ahold of that taught rope of restraint. The feel of your walls around him, taking him in inch by inch, was testing his limits. You felt like everything he ever wanted and more. He doesn’t understand how he has lived centuries without you. Consuming his every thought and cell. Like you had given him life but you were also his undoing.
You tell him to stop to give you a moment to get used to him. he was only halfway in. His mouth didnt leave yours as his hand finds yours in the dark, fingers gilding down your forearm until he tightens his hand on yours. Putting it beside your head, he encourages and praises you. You squeeze his large hand, asking him to continue.
The delicate way he is moving into you is so intimate and powerful. When you both finally join together. It’s like there was burst of light, placing a new star in the sky.
He lets go of your lips his breathing ragged above you. He asks if you’re alright, and with a breathless confirmation from you. he places your arm around his neck so your bodies are as close as they can be. Every inch left untouched.
Sylus begins to slowly move his hips. His thrusts slow and mindful. Holding on tight to his restraint. Wanting to take care of you, taking higher priority than his own needs.
What would he give to see you in the light in this moment. maybe the wrath of the gods would be worth it to be able to get a glimpse at your beautiful pleasured face under him When he picks up the pace at your request. Attentive to any sounds of discomfort but all he hears is your moans in the darkness.
Maybe, just maybe if he whispers his name against your ear To hear it on your sweet lips when you cry out in ecstasy. You would still want him despite knowing what he was. He was tempted. Oh so tempted, but as the last thread of the rope to his restraint snapped he focused solely on you.
He couldn’t believe he was actually here in this moment with you. Being the one to feel you, to hear you, have you all to himself. Having you Mind, body and soul fuels his desire and love for you. Making him thrust faster.
He takes you. Claims you. But he still feels like he isn’t close enough to you. Slightly lifting your body as you cling onto him. He thrusts into you, Making sure his pelvis is hitting your clit with each thrust. Your nails digging in to his skin, leaving behind golden marks. He growls at the painful pleasure, wanting you to leave him marked. Because who is powerful enough to draw golden blood from a god, but you?
Body rocking with his thrusts, you feel a tight coil in your stomach, your walls clench around him. Sylus curses, hips stuttering. His breathing growing more uneven against your neck. “Give in-“ he moans at his own body tightening. “Yell into the night the pleasures I’m making you feel” his hips don’t stop their pace. Hitting every deep spot inside you. He turns his lips to your ear his voice the embodiment of seduction and undiscovered pleasures. “Together, my love. I know you can do that for me”
trying to capture your lips in his, but failing with the movement of your bodies. He fills the space between them with your name. he feels you at the edge and follows you over it. Hitting that ecstasy he never had felt before.
He moans, needing to clench his hand on the pillow beside your head. to not crush when his climax hits him. Keeping himself all the way inside you to the hilt, his release going deep inside you. Body, mind and soul. Repeats in his head as he starts to thrust again riding each other’s highs. He praises you and displays his reverence to you with each slowing thrust. grounding you both back to the darkened room. setting you down on the bed.
He dosnt pull away from you keeping himself where he belongs. Trying to drag out this moment by each second. Breathless sounds are heard. Whispers of assurances and loyalty filter out the opened balcony doors settling themselves on the glittering waves of dawn. Forever etched into the sky. promises made with the evidence of love that blossomed in the dark remaining for all eternity even when the sun wakes.
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myriadeyed · 1 day
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Hi! I can't be the only physical nonhuman who wasn't born physically nonhuman.
I know I'm not. An eye-catching sentence is an eye-catching sentence.
I can't speak on whether I was born nonhuman in general. It's weird I know, but I have so few memories from when I was less than a year old! So I don't know about the therianthropy side of things.
Earlier this year I became physically nonhuman. That's not an ignorant sentence construction. To say became, I am not saying "I realized" or "I awoke as." I know I wasn't, and I know I am.
What I see from this particular community is a surprisingly wide range of species. Not just carnivoran mammals! I felt a little weird at first because I knew I was a bird but the more I look closer the more I see all the hares, bats, reptiles, cetaceans, rodents, even birds and arthropods like myself! I worried I would be uncomfortable under the assumption I can transform at will or at all, but not everybody does or can! It would seem to be a community of very diverse experience.
Except that when I first realized this (not when it first happened, just to clarify I'm not mixing up my own chosen language 👍), I encountered a problem: I am a species from North America, which I couldn't be. Not possible, since my ancestry is obviously from Europe/Eurasia. In fact, I'm more than one species. Physically. But I can't be, that's not possible because my parents would have had to be...
The parts of the community I have talked to or seen posts from has put forth an unspoken law of nature regarding physical nonhumanity: it's genetic. It's inherited. It's passed down. You are physically nonhuman your whole life because you're born physically nonhuman, since obviously, it is your parents that passed the gene down.
I can explain why and how I believe my case is what it is. Because I do know why and how, and it isn't conjecture. I know what happened to me; I know what my own deal is, and I don't feel the need to prove to a jury why I should be allowed here. If I'm not allowed here, then I wouldn't want to be here anyway. But that's an explanation for another day.
I just wanted to put this out there. There are so many assumptions. Beyond even just the surface level "only wolves" that I doubt anyone sincerely believes in. Look under the surface. Challenge these! When you talk to physical nonhumans, are you operating under a framework of ancestry? Of genetics/DNA at all? Are you assuming they tangibly change form momentarily and then back again? Are you assuming there is a glamor/disguise element? Is there a blueprint for you of being one species only and anything else requires explanation? Will you bring up the moon? Will you need a justification why these aren't the default?
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fruitless-vain · 10 months
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The sudden increase in bird people bringing their birds in to not pet friendly places is…. Concerning
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agentromanoffsir · 1 year
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neocities guide - why you should build your own html website
do you miss the charm of the 90s/00s web where sites had actual personality instead of the same minimalistic theme? are you feeling drained by social media and the constant corporate monopoly of your data and time? do you want to be excited about the internet again? try neocities!!
what is neocities?
neocities is a free hosting website that lets you build your own html website from scratch, with total creative control. in their own words: "we are tired of living in an online world where people are isolated from each other on boring, generic social networks that don't let us truly express ourselves. it's time we took back our personalities from these sterilized, lifeless, monetized, data mined, monitored addiction machines and let our creativity flourish again."
why should I make my own website?
web3 has been overtaken by capitalism & conformity. websites that once were meant to be fun online social spaces now exist solely to steal your data and sell you things. it sucks!! building a personal site is a great way to express yourself and take control of your online experience.
what would I even put on a website?
the best part about making your own site is that you can do literally whatever the hell you want! focus on a specific subject or make it a wild collection of all your interests. share your art! make a shrine for one of your interests! post a picture of every bird you see when you step outside! make a collection of your favorite blinkies! the world is your oyster !! here are some cool example sites to inspire you: recently updated neocities sites | it can be fun to just look through these and browse people's content! space bar | local interstellar dive bar creature feature | halloween & monsters big gulp supreme peanutbuttaz | personal site dragodiluna linwood | personal site patho grove | personal site
getting started: neocities/html guide
sound interesting? here are some guides to help you get started, especially if you aren't familiar with html/css sadgrl.online webmastery | a fantastic resource for getting started with html & web revival. also has a layout builder that you can use to start with in case starting from scratch is too intimidating web design in 4 minutes | good for learning coding basics w3schools | html tutorials templaterr | demo & html for basic web elements eggramen test pages | css page templates to get started with sadgrl background tiles | bg tiles rivendell background tiles | more free bg tiles
fun stuff to add to your site
want your site to be cool? here's some fun stuff that i've found blinkies-cafe | fantastic blinkie maker! (run by @transbro & @graphics-cafe) gificities | internet archive of 90s/00s web gifs internet bumper stickers | web bumper stickers momg | gif gallery 99 gif shop | 3d gifs 123 guestbook | add a guestbook for people to leave messages cbox | add a live chat box moon phases | track the phases of the moon gifypet | a little clickable page pet adopt a shroom | mushroom page pet tamaNOTchi | virtual pet crossword puzzle | daily crossword imood | track your mood neko | cute cat that chases your mouse pollcode | custom poll maker website hit counter | track how many visitors you have
web revival manifestos & communities
also, there's actually a pretty cool community of people out there who want to bring joy back to the web! melonland project | web project/community celebrating individual & joyful online experiences. Also has an online forum melonland intro to web revival | what is web revival? melonking manifesto | status cafe | share your current status nightfall city | online community onio.cafe | leave a message and enjoy the ambiance sadgrl internet manifesto | yesterweb internet manifesto | sadly defunct, still a great resource reclaiming online social spaces | great manifesto on cultivating your online experience
in conclusion
i want everyone to make a neocities site because it's fun af and i love seeing everyone's weird personal sites that they made outside of the control of capitalism :) say hi to me on neocities
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vaguenotions · 5 months
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Oh, yes, I just love your unannounced sleepover where you both come back from the bar after carefully avoiding telling me that's where you were going, and also neglecting to tell me when you'd be home! I definitely do not want to knock you on your ass and take a bat to your dome! That would be rude and unnecessary :)
Oh yes, please do start talking about shit amongst yourselves and make me feel isolated and othered in ny own room! These moments are what I live for, of course. Naturally. Who would ever have any issues with this arrangement at all?
#txt#might delete this later but i also might not because my irritation and rage is real and i shouldnt have to so constantly discard it#i am so tired of constantly putting it aside#i want your blood in my fucking teeth. and it's your fault i want it there- certainly- because I TRY. I try so hard not to feel this way#but eventually you get tired of those little games too#okay I drafted this for a minute bc idk if this fucker is actually spending the night or not i just know he took off his belt. BUT THEN ONE#+ OF THESE FUCKERS DECIDED TO START TALKING ABOUT SPIDERS. A THING THAT I HAVE A VERY BAD PHOBIA ABOUT. I AM GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU#thinking of killing and maiming and maiming and killing and killing and shredding and tearing and killing and-#seriously though what. the fuck. you even go ''oh they're not gonna like this'' THEN HOW ABOUT YOU DONT FUCKING SAY IT#ohh and now you're sitting here making plans for when you go out without me next! I'm going to make you a bloody smear on my fucking floor#i am going to Dissect you. I'm going to rip you apart and feed you to the local strays and csrrion birds.#not even getting up and leaving right fucking now would assuage me. i wish i wasn't so full of fucking hate but you just keep adding fuel +#+to the fire#im so tired. I'll come back with a ''im fine now'' if he fucking leaves but im going to seethe now. im so fucking angry.#how do you fucks continually just bounce between the topics that makes me feel Most Violent Towards You? literally how do you not realize i#+ want you dead at this point? how do you not realize the grave you've dug for yourselves in my mind?#i dont fucking mask it that well. i know i dont. and still you fucking do this#((part of why it being a bar specifically that bothers me besides the very deliberate and careful avoidance of mentioning it to me is that#+*one of you is at serious risk for becoming an alcoholic. why the fuck are you being enabled this way?*))#((if i was dating someone with a genetic predisposition of alcoholism i would make your regular dates nights- idk- NOT THE FUCKING BAR +#+ DISTRICT. DO YOU EVEN FUCKING CARE ABOUT THEM? DO YOU? This fucking boils my god damn blood.))#(ultimately its their decision if they want to fucking drink yeah sure whatever YOU DONT NEED TO REGULARLY AND READILY ENABLE IT. BASTARD.)#(If they want to drink so fucking bad- if they push for the bars- JUST BUY SOME ALCOHOL AND BRING IT FUCKING HERE. It limits how much they+#+can have for one- and it would isolate me from you two less! just as an added fucking bonus! but no very unreasonable of me. what was i +#+thinking? clearly not about them 🙄)#i might be a little out of line here. i can admit that. but if anyone spent a week in my fucking shoes back when they first got together +#+and then now? you would fucking understand.#and they just. keep. talking. to eachother. no attempts to include me. not even glances my way. like always.#''oh nothing will change'' IT FUCKING CHANGED. I want to hurt you so bsdly for that lie with ever passing day. do you even know it was a li#do you? anyway was abt to post this and noticed a gif i have of a woman ripping her shirt off so im going to stare at that until im calm ig.
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chososlilprincess · 10 months
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Virgin Choso who doesnt know why he feels hot one day when he looks at you, something twitching in his pants and his face turns pink from…embarrassment? He doesnt understand these new feelings that come with having a human body, and he doesn’t know why he’s reluctant to ask someone about it. Not you atleast, he couldn’t ask you. What if you thought he was weird? or creepy? why does he even care? he’s never cared about silly things like what others think of him.
When he eventually confides in his younger brother Yuji, he tells him something he can’t pick whether is terrifying or exciting. “its normal bro, you just like her,” he tells him like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “and when you like somebody they often make you feel uh…horny,” Yuji said grinning. Choso gets more and more embarrassed as Yuji tells him the basics of the birds and the bees.
Now Choso was in his bed, rock hard in his underwear after thinking about you for a little too long. He thought of what Yuji told him to do when his cock starts feeling weird, he had to ‘jerk off’ which his brother had told him would ’help the ache in his dick but make his feelings for you worse’
Choso sighed and reached a hand down to touch his cock, not yet reaching into his underwear. He sucked in a breath, it was terribly sensitive. pathetic.
He thought about you as he rubbed himself with his hand, thought about how you look when you laugh, about your pretty fucking eyes. The prettiest ones he’d ever seen in his almost 200 years of living. He shudders, and when he looks down again there’s a wet spot forming in his underwear, right where his tip was placed.
He feels dirty, he feels like a pervert. Thinking about his pretty friend while doing something so nasty. It feels wrong. But he needs it, he craves it.
He reluctantly pulls down his boxers, watching as his cock springs up, and it hurts. He thinks of you again, about that one time you stumbled over your own feet, and put your pretty little hand on his chest so you wouldn’t fall.
He touches his tip and he whines. fuck. it’s red and sensitive and little beads of what he assumes is pre cum, leaks out.
He starts playing with himself, grasping his length softly and stroking it once. He lifts up his tshirt and puts it in his mouth, to not make too much noice. it feels so fucking good already.
He begins stroking it slowly. up and down, just doing what feels good. He spits in his hand and brings it back to his cock to continue jerking off. He whimpers.
He’s so desperate for you to like him, for you to touch him, for him to be yours. And for you to be his. He closes his eyes, and he pictures you next to him, your smaller hand replacing his own, stroking him, telling him you love him. He thinks about kissing your pretty lips, holding your cute face in his hands. He thinks about being inside you,
his dick twitches as he groans, spilling his sticky load on his stomach while his whole body shakes. He stares at his mess, breathing heavily while he comes down from his high.
fuck. He wants you so bad, he needs you.
and Yuji was right, the ache in his now softening dick is gone, but the ache in his heart only got worse.
part two here
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hoshigray · 2 months
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possessive tojikuna 😈🫦
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⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: true form! Sukuna + Toji x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (m! receiving) - face-fucking- double penetration (2 dick kuna, lawl) - doggy style position - clitoral play (licking + pinching) - biting - unprotected sex - pet names (baby, good girl, little bird, princess, wife, woman) - slight degradation - highly possessive behavior - heavy depictions of a blowjob - mention of drool/spit.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.4k
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You knew something was up. You could tell from the sudden chill in the air as you strode back to the palace grounds and walked down the hall to your shared room at dusk.
The palace was shrouded in an eerie silence, the darkness broken only by the flickering light of the candles that guided your path. The servants, usually bustling with activity, now worked silently, their eyes averted. Even Uraume was unusually quiet as they led you to your room, where your husbands awaited you.
They dismiss themselves once you reach the door, leaving you alone in the hall before the shoji panel door. Breathing silently and slowly through your nostrils, a hesitant hand approaching the handle.
Only for the door to open independently and for you to be yanked by the wrist. You could not foretell what happened after this, yet now you know why the palace life had become unusually stifling.
“—Khhh, ahhhck..!! ‘Kunaa, f-for’ive m—Ahhh!”
“Silence, woman; don’t test me.”
You were stripped of your clothing, nude back to the soft futon, and your entire body dwarfed underneath the massive size of Sukuna. The cursed being has you under him as his lower left hand fingers your chasm, and the upper right arm chokes you by the throat. 
The restriction of your airways has you lightheaded, along with the motions of his thick fore and middle finger ravaging your vaginal texture. “Tahhh, ohGodsss…!”
“Hmph, what a whore,” he scoffs with a devilish grin, stuffing his fingers until the hilted knuckle. “So fucking tight on my fingers, you find enjoyment in being punished like this?”
“My King, please,” getting the words out is a battle. “I’m sho—Mmfff!…sho sorry—“
“Sorry for what?” The grip on your throat gets firmer, his thumb big enough to have your blood vessels pulsing for desperation. “For disobeying orders and leaving the fortress or having another man touch you?”
Ah, fuck! You knew this would bite you in the back once you stepped outside. Your husbands were busy with their daily tasks, leaving the fortress walls and instructing you to stay put where it’s safe. However, a specific craving has been growing these past few days, a craving that can only be found in the busy streets of the countryside down south. And since your spouses were out of reach for the day, and Uraume was tending the palace and its subjects as usual, you didn’t want to burden anyone with your selfishness. So, you snuck out at dawn and treaded to the civil human territory on your own.
“Unbelievable,” he curls his digits, which scrape your walls, and your strained cries are taken. “Who told you to leave where you were supposed to be?” His voice is ominous, even in a hushed tone, as he brings his face closer to you. “Who told you that you could let others touch you?” 
“Kunaaa, please, forg’ve me,” the nickname doesn’t lessen the hold on your windpipe. “I was…just getting fruits from the town…And then I’d return—“
“You disobey me for some fruits?” Crimson eyes glint darkly. “And then have that cretin hold your hands—hold what’s mine?”
The pound of your head worsens by the seconds, and the mouth of his stomach chews on the flesh of your tummy. God, this is too much…! “…I–I’m so sorry, my King…I didn’t m–mean to offend you, but my body is only—ghhh—for my hus–bands!”
“Today said otherwise—“
“It was not intentional!” I can’t…breathe…Your cunt tenses from a graze to your upper wall, your eyes watering. “Please, my love, there’s no one else my heart belongs to…I swear on my blood.” 
Finally, he releases your throat from his death grip, yet you’re not given time to gather much air as his hand comes to your cheeks to snatch. Panting heavily as your eyes stay on his, whimpering as he removes his digits from your aching slit. 
The giant huffs with a smirk at the sight of your tears. “Well, I’m not the only one you should swear to, wife.”
Of course, he isn’t; there’s another man in the room witness to your comeuppance. Once Sukuna withdraws himself from your proximity, your trembling figure moves off your back and crawls to the next person who stands on his knees. And you greet him with licks and kisses to his abs. “Toji…” your hands roam to his waist.
“Hey, baby,” emerald eyes observe you. “Got y’rself into trouble today. Didn’t think I wouldn’t see you outside after bein’ told not to?”
“I’m sorry—Mmmm…” you sense Sukuna’s hands keep your ass in place, and the lower other fingers your asshole. Your breath hikes at the contact of the tip of both his cocks, teasing your holes. Something slaps on your cheek, and Toji snickers.
“If y’re really sorry,” the dark-haired man pushes the cockhead to your lips. “Suck this dick like I like it.”
The simultaneous push of Sukuna’s cocks takes your breath, and your mouth is stuck on an indefinite ‘o’ shape. Toji takes advantage and shoves the tip into your mouth. Moans are mumbled, holes puckering to the slow push and pull of the colossus’ hips. After a few seconds, you begin to bob your head and suck.
“Hmmm, bad girl,” Toji grabs for the back of your head. “So busy with y’r lil’ outing that you didn’t notice me see you, walkin’ in the crowd and talkin’ with the townspeople,” he holds his breath from the sight of you lapping your tongue around the glans, precum oozing to your tastebuds. “And then be too friendly with those farmers, laughin’ and talkin’ too close to ‘em.”
You suck on his glans and with a hum. “Mmahh, I wasn’t planning on staying for too long,” you kiss and suck on the skin of the underside of his shaft until you meet his balls. Your tongue swirls on his testes, “I was just being polite—Ahhh!”
“Way too polite,” Sukuna smacks your butt, spawning a mouth to his palm to chew on the flesh to erupt a cry. Another bite comes from his lower right on your waist. “Might as well have asked them to come over.”
“Right…Hnngh!” Toji loves how you guzzle on his testicle. “Is that what ya want, princess? Have some strangers come here and see how much of a slut you are for our dicks, huh?” He yanks you by the chin, your expression already enhancing to a daze. “Wanna let ‘em have a go with you?”
It’s hard to answer as Sukuna ruts increase in pace, toes curling at the rub of your inner walls. “Ghhahh, n-no…! I don’t want anyone else to—shiiit—t-touch me like you do!” Sounds of skin slapping against each other from behind have you twitching even harder. Sukuna places his upper right arm to place on your shoulder to bite on your shoulder, while the lower left slither to your clit for the tongue of his palm to lap and tease. 
“Fuuuck, pussy so tight,” the behemoth sighs deeply. “Feel so good, shit isn’t meant for anyone outside this room.” His hips dial to a sporadic rhythm, shivers crawling up his spine as you scream all cutely from his movement. “All mine,” He bends to speak behind your nape. “All fucking mine.”
“Yesss, ahaaaa,” you howl out with your face smooshed to Toji’s pelvis, your hands stimulating his erection. “I only belong to you, my loves, only you…” you take in Toji’s tip once more, whimpering as his length busy your mouth inch by inch.
“Good girl, good girl,” Toji praises you from above, the hand on your head keeping you glued to him while the other husband has his way with you. Soon enough, both his strong palms come to your face, and he essentially fucks your face like a toy, your jaw loosening to make the process easier. 
Sukuna grabs for your arms and pulls you back but doesn’t stop Toji from fucking your face till the hilt meets your lips, and his balls knock your chin. You’re nerves are heightened, stimulated by the onslaught of pleasure on both ends. Your cunt and anus spasming around the limbs pushing to and fro, and your mouth mumbling on the dick, hitting the back of your throat.
And it doesn’t take long for your climax to steer you off, your frame trembling uncontrollably as you jerk and quaver under the bow of these men. Toji and Sukuna find it amusing, the hand on your clit pinching the bud.
“Hmph, cumming on my cocks like crazy.” The salmon-headed one playfully smacks your ass as your entrances flutter from the aftershocks. “Apology accepted, little bird; consider this a warning until the next time you transgress.”
Toji removes his cock from your mouth, strings of blended saliva and come leave the messy opening. “Now, ya know, princess. C’mon, lemme have my turn.”
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 ☆ dividers by @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.
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serpentandlily · 3 months
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Birds of a Feather - Azriel x Reader
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Birds of a Feather - Azriel x Reader
Summary: Azriel had been your closest friend, made from the very same things as you—birds of a feather, as they say. But you were not the girl he chose to fall in love with. So all you could do was love your mate in the shadows until the day you died.  
Warnings: angst angst angst
A/n: Inspired by Birds of a Feather by Billie Eilish, but this is a more sad interpretation of the song. Hope you enjoy! (Epilogue HERE)
• ───────────────── •
I want you to stay
'Til I'm in the grave
'Til I rot away, dead and buried
'Til I'm in the casket you carry
• ───────────────── •
A flick of golden brown hair caught your eye as Elain tossed her head back with her lilting laughter. So soft. So beautiful. So charming. You could hardly blame Azriel for being so enraptured by her. To him, she was probably the answer to all his questions, all his insecurities and doubt. To have someone like Elain look at him like that…Well, it seemed like it had healed something in him.
Unfortunately for you, it had done the opposite. It had completely destroyed you. Torn your heart into pieces. Opened new wounds and old wounds. It had shined a light on every single insecurity you felt. Because you had been praying for the day that Azriel would look at you the way he looked at her. But that day had never come and it never would.
You hadn’t been good enough for him. Hadn’t been beautiful enough to catch his attention like Mor and Elain had. Hadn’t been sweet enough to serve as a beacon of light for him. Hadn’t been soft enough to bring him comfort. 
You slipped out of the back door. No one even noticed your disappearance, all too happy in this new little family they had created with all three of the Archeron sisters. 
Tears lined your eyes as you hugged yourself, slowly walking along the Sidra towards your apartment. You had been naive to think you’d ever have a love like Feyre and Rhys or Nesta and Cassian. Azriel had been right that night you’d overheard him in the High Lord’s office.
The Cauldron had gotten it wrong. It had gotten it all so wrong.
Azriel was your mate. He was supposed to love and cherish you. Not her. But he had never looked your way once—not like that. You’d been best friends since the dawn of time, since you had entered each other’s lives. But that was all the companionship he could give you.
On nights like this, you almost wished you had told him about the mating bond when it had snapped for you. But you had hoped and prayed that he would come to love you for you and not for the mating bond. So you never spoke a word of it to anyone and maybe that had been your mistake.  
But you didn’t want a love that only existed because of the mating bond. You wanted a love that felt real and deep—with the mating bond only serving as the cherry on top. You didn’t regret not telling him. But you did regret sticking around to watch him fall in love with another girl. 
It didn’t help that Elain was the opposite of you. She was all sunshine and flowers, soft warm bread and honey. You were a creature of the night. You were the moon and its shadows, cryptic and grim. It was why you thought you and Azriel got along so well. You were made of all the same things. But he had always hated that about himself so really, it shouldn’t have been so surprising that he would look for someone who embodied the opposite. 
It hurt though, it hurt so much. 
You were his equal. You lived in the shadows as much as he did. Your soul was made from the same essence as his. You were birds of a feather. You were companions. He was the only one who understood you completely and you were the only one who saw him and loved him as he was—darkness and all. 
You were supposed to stick together through it all.
But…he hadn’t chosen you. 
You finally made it back to your apartment and hung up your coat before collapsing on your bed and letting the sobs ricochet through the utter silence of your home. 
Alone once again. 
As you always would be.
• ───────────────── •
Birds of a feather, we should stick together, I know
I said I'd never think I wasn't better alone
Can't change the weather, might not be forever
But if it's forever, it's even better
• ───────────────── •
All you had wanted to do today was get lost in your book and forget about your own life for a few hours. That was what you had planned, why you were even in the private library at the River House. But of course, the Mother decided to spite you once again.
Azriel sat on the armchair across from you, fiddling with Truth-teller as he ranted about Rhysand for the millionth time. He was still upset about your High Lord telling him to stay away from Elain, even though he had completely ignored those orders anyways. As far as you knew, Rhys hadn’t brought it up again. 
Your jaw was clenched as he brought up Lucien, laminating on how much Elain didn’t want him or the mating bond between them. You blinked away the tears that threatened to come. It almost felt like he was talking about the mating bond between the two of you—the one he still had no idea existed. 
Your heart was pounding in your chest, your stomach tossing and turning. You were so in love with the male sitting before you, so in love with your best friend. And here you were, listening to him talk about another girl the way you wished he’d talk about you. 
You cleared your throat when silence finally overtook the library, your eyes darting to the fireplace that was lacking any light—cold and dusty—the same way you felt inside. 
“Don’t you think…” you started, not looking at Azriel, not sure you wanted to say the words lingering in your throat. 
“Do I think what?” Azriel raised an eyebrow at you. 
You looked away again. 
“I don’t know,” you hesitated before continuing, “Don’t you think that Rhys might actually have a point?” 
You were still focused on the fireplace as you awaited his response with a bated breath. It was the first time you’d addressed his interest in Elain without being positive. But you just had to poke at it once—just once to make sure you were right in keeping the mating bond from him. 
“Oh Gods,” Azriel groaned. “Not you, too.”
“I’m just asking,” you said in your defense. “What if…what if in ten years Elain decides she does actually want to give Lucien a shot? The mating bond—”
“Is godsdamn stupid, is what it is,” Azriel scoffed. “She doesn’t want Lucien, Y/n. She wants me. We want each other. Is that such a bad thing?”
“No, I’m not saying that,” you grimaced, “But what if you find your mate? Would you…would you stay with Elain?” 
“Of course I would,” Azriel answered without missing a beat, digging that dagger into your heart a little more. “I don’t have a mate and even if I did, I would only ever feel sorry for her. For being cursed and shackled to me. At least Elain is choosing me. She is choosing me, Y/n. Over her own mate. If that isn’t love, then what is?” 
“I don’t know, Az.” You swallowed harshly, your throat closing up the further this conversation went on. You wanted to scream and sew your mouth shut at the same time. “Is that what this is? Are you truly in love with her?” 
This was it. The question you had been avoiding for months. And his answer would solidify everything. It would either put the nail in the coffin between the two of you or it would lighten the weight on your shoulders for just a minute—give you a modicum of hope to hang onto. 
“I am,” Azriel snapped, surprising you with his sudden ire. He rose from his seat, his eyes narrowing at you. “What is wrong with you? I thought you cared about me. I thought you were my friend, Y/n, and you’re acting just like Rhysand.” 
You shot up from your seat, eyes wide. “No, Az, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way, I just—”
“No, I get it,” Azriel scoffed, cutting you off. His eyes were ice cold. He had never looked at you like that before. It made your heart pause. “You just want me to continue being miserable. Because that’s always been why the two of us got along so well. Both lonely and so unhappy and now that I’m finally not, you want to drag me back down. Maybe one day someone will love you the way me and Elain love each other. But just because no one does right now, does not mean I have to give up my happiness to keep being miserable with you.” 
Tears welled up in your eyes, your lower lip wobbling. All you wanted was Azriel to be happy. It was another reason why you hadn’t said anything about the mating bond. Because he was happy with Elain and you didn’t want to throw a wrench into that. You hadn’t meant anything by asking him those questions—only wanted a bit of closure for yourself. 
Well, you had gotten closure, all right. Azriel would never choose you. He was right. You were miserable and lonely and heartbroken. Why would he choose you? But you hadn’t expected him to be so harsh. A simple yes would’ve done the same. Tears slipped down your cheeks and the anger from Azriel’s eyes was washed away.
But you didn’t stick around to hear his half-assed apology. You couldn’t. Not when your heart was being ripped apart in your chest, not as bile was rising in your hoarse throat. You dropped your book down on the coffee table before fleeing from the room, ignoring his calls of your name as you left.
• ───────────────── •
But you're so full of shit, 
Tell me it's a bit, 
Say you don't see it, your mind's polluted
Say you wanna quit, don't be stupid
• ───────────────── •
Months went by, all meshing together. You had avoided Azriel since that day in the library. It hurt but being around him hurt even more. It was all you could do to protect your already broken heart. He didn’t reach out to you either, instead all of his attention went to Elain. 
Elain who had finally told Lucien she would never accept their bond. 
And so Azriel and her had finally proclaimed their love to the whole family. A family you felt yourself slipping away from bit by bit. No one even seemed to notice. After all, it had always been you and Azriel hiding away in the shadows—content to observe and love from the corners of the room. 
But now it was just you in that corner, all alone. 
You stopped going to family dinners, stopped hanging around the River House, stopped going to training with the Valkyries. You began to disappear from their lives day by day. You couldn’t bring yourself to stay. Not when your mate was in love with someone else—not as they all started new chapters in their lives and left you behind. 
You had overstayed your welcome. No longer Azriel’s closest friend and confidant. No longer Cassian’s sparring buddy. No longer an extra ear for Rhys to run court decisions by. No longer Mor’s dancing partner or Amren’s pupil to bully. 
You became a shadow of yourself. Sleepless nights led to a lack of energy and focus. Constant tears led to being voiceless. You couldn’t even resort to alcohol because it made the steely barrier you had put up to block out the mating bond come tumbling down, flooding you with all of Azriel’s feelings. Happiness, joy, lust, desire, satiation. 
It was just a reminder that you weren’t the one giving him those things. 
But you couldn’t disappear the way you wanted to. Not when a new war started with Koschei. Despite months of not being around, Rhysand still sent you a notice to come to a meeting to discuss strategy and to inform everyone of new developments. 
You wanted to ignore the summons but the thought of Azriel going into battle again without you around to watch his back nearly sent you spiraling. So you made your way to the River House, eyes on the floor the whole time as you stepped inside and hung up your coat. 
You were about to go up the stairs to get to Rhys’s office when a hand on your shoulder stopped you. You spun around and your breath caught in your throat as you came face to face with Azriel. You took a shaky step away from him, your hand coming up to grip at your chest. The mating bond you had been trying to ignore shoved its way through your defenses—bombarding you with Azriel’s emotions once again. 
His hazel eyes were filled with a bit of guilt and remorse. “Y/n, I was wondering if you were going to show up today. I…I’ve been wanting to talk to you but you haven’t been around much.”
Your mouth opened and closed, no words coming out. You didn’t trust yourself to speak. Azriel hesitated for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck before speaking, “I never got to apologize for the things I said to you. It's not an excuse, but Rhys had just laid into me again about Elain before I found you in the library and I took my anger out on you when you were just trying to be a good friend and I am truly sorry for what I said to you. I didn’t mean any of it.” 
“It’s okay,” you mumbled, looking away from him. His words had felt true that day. Besides, what he said to you might’ve been wrong but that didn’t take away from the fact that he was in love with someone else. Regardless of his apology, there was no way you could go back to being his friend. It hurt too much. 
Azriel seemed to be waiting for you to say anything else and his shoulders deflated a bit when he realized you weren’t going to. He gave you a weak smile before summoning something from his shadows. An envelope. He held it out for you to grab. You took it from him with a questioning look. 
“It’s an invitation,” Azriel explained. “Me and Elain are getting married. I wanted to deliver this to you in person. It would mean a lot to have you there, Y/n.” 
You stared at the envelope in your hand. 
Stared and stared and stared. 
Even throughout the whole meeting with the Inner Circle, all you could do was stare at that godsdamn envelope. Because inside of it was the last piece of your broken heart, smashed and weeping. Azriel was getting married…and not to you. To her. 
So when Rhys announced his plans of attack for Koschei and how he needed someone to act as bait for the Death God, you were the first to volunteer because you truly had nothing left to lose. 
• ───────────────── •
And I don't know what I'm crying for
I don't think I could love you more
Might not be long, but baby, I
Don't wanna say goodbye
• ───────────────── •
“Are you sure you don’t want to sit up front with the rest of us?” Feyre asked.
You looked up at her from your seat in the very back of the temple, shaking your head. You gave her a blank look. “No, it’s all right. I’m fine back here. You know I don’t like that attention of sitting near the High Lord and Lady.” 
Feyre gave you an understanding nod. “Okay, but you will sit with us at the reception. I’m not taking no for an answer.” 
You nodded to appease her, knowing you had no intentions of staying past the ceremony. You were only here for one reason—because Azriel had asked you to be here and you could never say no to him. So here you sat, your chest empty and your eyes sore from the tears you spilled last night. 
This wedding felt more like a funeral to you and in some ways, it was. You were saying goodbye to a future you could’ve had with your mate, giving up the final piece of yourself for his sake, and getting to watch him be happy and free, such a bittersweet feeling. All you had ever wished was that he could be happy with you but that was just a dream—that’s all it would ever be. 
Elain looked so beautiful in her wedding gown, as she always did. 
Azriel’s eyes lit up the moment she came through the doorway, striding down the aisle to him. He held out his hand for her, helping her up the steps to stand before him. They didn’t look away from each other for a single moment during the ceremony. He was so in love with her. So in love with her and not you…never you. 
The whole room was bursting with joy but not you. You were happy for him, of course. But you couldn’t help but feel that ache in your chest and everything that came with it. The hurt, the jealousy, the grief. 
Had he even really wanted you here or had it been a pity invite? It didn’t matter because he took no notice of anyone but Elain. So when the ceremony ended and everyone began to make their way to the reception, you slinked into the shadows and disappeared once again. 
• ───────────────── •
I'll love you 'til the day that I die
'Til the day that I die
'Til the light leaves my eyes
'Til the day that I die
• ───────────────── •
The battle was over. Koschei had been defeated. You had gone through with serving as the bait for this plan to work. It had cost so much to finally take him down. So many lives, so much power. And you. It had cost you everything. 
You were dying. Slowly.
But you knew this was the end for you.
Even if you could be saved, you didn’t want to be.
You wanted to let death embrace you in his cold arms.
You wanted to leave behind this life finally.
Everyone was still cheering and hugging with relief when you stumbled back into the war camp. You pressed a hand against the deep wound in your stomach, blood bubbling through the cracks in your fingers as you passed by everyone—no one taking notice of you or your severely injured state.
Not until you made it to the main tent where the rest of the Inner Circle had begun to celebrate the victory. 
It was Feyre who noticed you first, her gasp alerting the rest of them to your presence. But you were only looking at Azriel as you stumbled into the tent, barely making it past the threshold before you crumbled to the ground. You choked on the blood filling up your mouth, some of it trickling out of your lips. 
Azriel shouted your name, pushing Cassian out of his way to get to you. He knelt before you, eyes wide with panic as he grasped your shoulders. In the background, you could faintly hear Rhysand shouting for a healer but you knew it was too late for that. 
You weakly smiled up at Azriel. This is what you wanted. To just see him one last time. To let his face be the last thing you see before death came to take you. You reached a hand out, letting your fingertips brush against his jaw. 
It took you being gravely injured for the mating bond to finally snap in place for him. You knew the minute he realized. The mating bond hummed in your chest but its song was so quiet now…so, so quiet. 
It was slowly fraying as your life dimmed. 
“Mate,” Azriel choked out in a whisper, his hand resting on your cheek. His eyes were still full of panic. “You’re…You’re my mate.” 
You nodded, coughing again and more blood slipped out of your lips and down your chin. Azriel shouted frantically for a healer before focusing on you again, his eyes searching yours. “You knew?” 
You nodded again, your body sagging in his hold. He let out a panicked cry and pulled you into his lap. “How long? How long have you known?” 
“A while,” you managed to croak, your fingers raising to caress his jaw again. 
Azriel stared at you in horror as he shouted again for a healer. You could hear the pounding of feet and other panicked whispers but you tuned it all out. You just wanted to go peacefully. No screaming, no cries. Just you and Azriel for the last second of your life. 
“Why?” he cried out, wiping one of your tears away. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 
“You…were…happy,” you struggled to get out, your eyes closing with the effort. Azriel shook your body, tears filling up in his eyes.
“No, stay awake, Y/n, you have to stay awake,” Azriel pleaded with you. “The healer is almost here, okay. Just stay awake a little longer.” 
“I-It’s…okay,” you mumbled. “Want…want to go.” 
You coughed again, blood splatting your face. Azriel released a cry that nearly caused the ground to shake. “No, you can’t. You can’t go. You’re my mate, Y/n. You can’t do this to me!” 
“I’ll find…you…again,” you slurred out. “Maybe…maybe I’ll be…good enough….then.” 
You blinked once, your vision blurry but you could see Azriel’s beautiful face. Gods, he was so beautiful. He was screaming something but your hearing went along with your vision, slowly worsening until finally, your heart stopped beating in your chest. 
And with that, the pain was finally gone. 
• ───────────────── •
I knew you in another life
You had that same look in your eyes
I love you, don't act so surprised
• ───────────────── •
Epilogue
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ja3yun · 5 months
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please be real | p.js
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ex!jay x fem!reader warnings: angst, heartache, smut (mdni), fingering, unprotected sex, cream pie, teasing, pet names (princess, baby), crying, mentions of alcohol, drunk jay, pure heartbreak in the beginning, not proofread, anything else lmk synopsis: after a six-year relationship, you and jongseong part ways due to different needs for the future. when jongseong's first birthday post-breakup arrives, his struggle with your absence reaches a breaking point, prompting a late-night call from his friend that consequently reignites emotions and unresolved feelings. wc: 9.4k a/n: hi! it's me and it's jay's birthday so i wrote him a little something something. i didn't initially intend to rip my heart out as i wrote this yet here i am. this was oddly a healing one to write but i must warn you it does mention the reader not wanting to have children so if that doesn't appeal to you then this probs isn't the fic for you! as always, like, comments, feedback, etc. is all appreciated! ilysm and happy bday jay <3
A sharp, jarring noise pierces your ears, the peaceful sleep you were in rudely disrupted. You groan out loud, covering your face with your covers but it does nothing to stop the ringing from your phone, it doesn’t even dull it a little, the little black device only echoing around the room louder.
Disoriented and groggy, you fumble for your phone on the bedside table, clumsily searching for it in the darkness. It isn’t your alarm, the usual peaceful tones of the birds chirping would be a welcomed sound, one that eases you into the day; no this was a phone call.
Finally grasping your phone, your eyes fight themselves open as you blink away any remnants of sleep, trying to find any sort of centre from your dizzy awakening. You look at the name on your phone but your vision is so blurred you can’t make it out but answer it anyway, knowing that whoever is phoning at this ungodly hour is clearly in need of your help.
“Hello?” you ask quietly, as if you don’t want to disturb the quiet of the night, unlike the person on the other end of the call.
“Uh, Y/N? It’s Jake.” His soft Australian accent drifts from your phone speaker into your ears. He sounds unsure whether he is supposed to be making the call, which to be fair, you understand because you haven’t heard from him in months, not after…
Letting out a sigh, you rub your forehead with the base of your palm tiredly, “Jake, why the fuck are you calling me at…” you pull the phone away, inspecting the time now that you’re more alert, “3.36am?” you ask with a hint of disdain. Normally, you would welcome the boy’s surprise call, after all, you did miss him. But considering he woke you up from a good dream involving you, Jeongin from Stray Kids, and a happily ever after; he wasn’t exactly your favourite person right now.
You can faintly hear some music in the background as he stays silent and you swear to yourself if this is to give him a ride home from a concert turned party, you’ll have his head.
“Listen, I hate to ask you this but can you come to Haven?”
“The nightclub? Why?” Your earlier suspicions are proving to be right, he does want a lift home. That would be an acceptable request if you guys were actively talking every day and the best of buddies but he isn’t even your friend, not really. 
You can hear him shuffling around on the other end of the line, his voice can be heard trying to calm someone down but his words are obscured as if the phone is wrested away from his mouth, leaving only disjointed fragments of speech drifting through the receiver. 
This sounds like more than just a simple ride home and it causes you to snap to attention, your senses heightened with concern. 
Jake finally brings his attention back to you, letting out a sigh of discontentment, “It’s Jay, he’s a mess and he’s calling out for you.”
Jay. Park Jongseong.
It’s been so long since anyone has dared to mention his name to you that it almost sounds like a foreign word.
Seven months ago, you and Jongseong had decided to call off your 6-year relationship, both of you reaching the understanding that it was for the best considering your battling differences and needs within the relationship.
It wasn’t easy, the furthest thing from it actually. You and him had been inseparable since high school and once you both got together in year 12, it was always you and him against the world. He was the love of your life, that once in a lifetime kind of love that only happens in fairytales. Your souls were both painted from the same brush stroke.
But he wanted a peaceful, routine life - a classic white picket fence dream. Evenings would be spent with friends, savouring white wine and casual conversations over dinner. His heart was set on imagining the echoes of your future children's laughter filling your home, family trips to the seaside, and comforting them with kisses and band-aids when they got hurt.
And you craved spontaneity, to embrace life with vigour, travelling the world together was your dream, free from the responsibilities of parenting, cherishing moments just for yourselves. You longed for random midnight trips to Tesco for birthday cake simply because you could. All you wished for was to be with him, just the two of you.
Suddenly, your brain clicks into an important detail and you hurriedly check the calendar on your phone and the date makes you slump in your bed.
Today is Jongseong’s birthday, well technically not anymore given the time, but that means he has lived his first birthday without you by his side in so long. You would always celebrate his big day by doing something from his handwritten bucket list he has had since he was a child. Over the years he has added more to the list, each birthday scoring one out to add another.
The list wasn't extravagant; it was filled with simple yet heartfelt desires. You bought him a bundle of guitar lessons and a Taylor 114e electric guitar to fulfil his wish of learning to play. When you noticed the Download Festival marked with gold stars on his list, you surprised him with tickets for the year Metallica was headlining. And when he expressed a desire to cook a meal from scratch for his mum, you gifted him a kitchen knife engraved with his name and took the time to teach him how to prepare her favourite dish.
His birthdays were the most precious when you were in them, and you weren’t there with him.
“Y/N?” Jake’s sweet voice draws you back to his attention and out of the memory lane swirl your brain has put you in. He knows this is a tough call for you to take considering you and Jongseong said to cut ties completely; it’s better to act like you both didn’t exist than keep a thread tethered to one another that would only hurt you more.
As Jake and Sunghoon whisked Jay away for his birthday celebration, their intention was simple: to help him let loose and have a good time. Jay had been buried in overtime work lately, leaving little room for socialising. Since the breakup, the idea of going out without you - dancing together, stealing kisses in the taxi ride home - seemed unappealing.
Waking up that morning, Jay realised it marked the first birthday in six years without ticking something off his bucket list. The familiar, worn paper lay dormant on his desk, a stark reminder of your absence. He had no desire to celebrate today without you by his side. If he could fast-forward through the day to escape the weight of his birthday, he would eagerly do so.
Yet, with two very persuading friends and a whole lot of whiskey later, here he was, curled up outside Haven, yearning out for you.
“Y/N please, at least come and convince him to get up and come home with us,” Jake pleads. You can hear the cries of your ex-lover more clearly now as Jake kneels beside his friend, checking in on him.
With a resigned sigh, you nod, “Okay. Keep him warm, I’ll be there in 20 minutes.”
Hanging up the phone, you quickly put a brush through your hair and change into a baggy top, one you bought for Jongseong before breaking up, and a pair of grey sweatpants. This is a bad idea, you know it is, but you also can’t leave him to wallow in the middle of the street. You don’t think you could live with yourself if you didn’t help and Jake wouldn’t call unless it was something he couldn’t handle. 
You don’t want to see the state Jongseong is in, his wailing cries that you could slightly hear over the phone already made your heart clench in hurt.
As you drive to Haven, your heart races in anticipation with each mile that passes. Is your heart ready to face him after all these months? Staring into the love of your life’s eyes once again might break you even more. You’ve done a good job in keeping yourself together, at putting on a facade that everything is okay, when deep down you know that if one person asked you about Jongseong you would crumble and fall apart. 
He wasn’t the only one throwing himself into work to forget. You’ve worked hours and hours trying to keep your mind off the heartbreak, you thought that if you just focused and kept your head down, the phrase time heals all wounds would kick in and you’d be free of the torment of losing your first love. But it hasn’t worked out that way, you know that now as you speed down the empty roads to console the one person you are trying to forget.
As you reach Haven, you can vaguely see three boys under the illuminating sign, almost as if shining a spotlight on them to add to the spectacle that Jongseong is making. Onlookers are watching as your ex-boyfriend cries on the pavement, wishing you would come home.
With a quick exhale, you step out of the car before doubts can creep in, determined to be there for him. Jake and Sunghoon's voices float to you, attempting to soothe him and inject some sense into the moment. Bracing yourself, you approach, ready to offer whatever comfort you can, despite the storm of emotions swirling within you.
Sinking onto the balls of your feet, you lower yourself to Jongseong's level, meeting his strained figure. Instantly, the sight of his distress instantly shatters your heart into a million pieces.
An abundance of tears cascades down Jongseong's reddened face, obscuring his features like a relentless waterfall. His clenched jaw and the prominent vein on his forehead portray the intensity of his distress as he struggles to draw each laboured breath. Curled into himself, his body seems to contort with the weight of physical agony, mirroring the emotional pain that ripples through his trembling form. He’s been keeping this in for so long that his body doesn’t know how to cope with it.
Reaching out to grab his clenched fist, you shuffle forward, “Jjongie? It’s me, baby, look at me,” you say calmly, trying to reassure him with your soft voice.
As your fingers gently encircle his clenched fist, Jongseong's body tenses at the touch. Slowly, he turns his gaze towards you, his eyes bloodshot and filled with an overwhelming mixture of sorrow and longing. For a moment, there's a flicker of recognition in his eyes before they cloud over again with anguish.
He doesn’t believe you’re actually here, considering the long nights where he has conjured up the idea of you, clinging to his imagination on the lonely nights he wishes for your touch. But as you squeeze his hand, he realises this isn’t a dream-induced sighting, you’re really here in front of him.
"Y/N..." he murmurs, his voice choked with emotion. Tears stream down his face in torrents, some landing on your hand that holds his. His cries reverberate through the air, each wail a sharp stab to your chest.
Cupping his cheek, you settle yourself between his legs, ignoring the discomfort of the rocks beneath your knees, your focus solely on him. With a sad smile, you attempt to mask your own anguish, your touch a gentle reassurance amidst his storm of emotions.
"Hey, hey, enough of that now," you hush him softly, your voice a soothing melody in the tumultuous night. Using your thumb, you tenderly wipe away his tears, though they continue to flow unabated.
He leans into your touch, “I miss you so much, Y/N, please. Please,” he pleads as you feel his warm breath against your skin as he nuzzles into your palm, seeking solace in the familiar sensation he's been yearning for.
It’s hurting you just seeing him like this, the man you once knew to be strong-willed and resilient, keeping his emotions under control unless he’s sharing sweet vulnerable moments with you under the covers, is now a shell of himself, stripped bare by the weight of grief.
Turning your face to look at Jake, you offer him a small smile, “I’ll take him home.”
“You sure?” Jake asks, knowing that it’s a dangerous game for you both if you do.
“Yeah, I don’t think he’s going to move unless I do,” you chuckle sympathetically but there’s a bubble in your throat as Jongseong’s whimpers flow into your ear from beside you.
Nodding, Jake gestures to Sunghoon, silently enlisting his help in the task of ferrying the drunk man to your car. The weight of Jongseong's limp form proves cumbersome as you all struggle to navigate his dead weight, his limbs hanging heavily without offering any assistance.
"Let's get you home," you murmur softly, your hands pressing gently against Jongseong's chest to steady him, aided by his friends who lift him onto their shoulders.
His eyes lock onto yours, an intensity burning within them. "Please be real," he whispers, his voice trembling with desperation. Despite feeling your touch and catching hints of your scent, doubt gnaws at him. If this is merely a figment of his imagination, he knows he'll never forgive himself. You're so close, so tangible - it has to be you.
With much struggle, the three of you get him to your car, putting him gently in the backseat so he can lie down, but he wraps his arms around your waist as his legs stay situated outside of the vehicle, holding you close to him.
"Come on, Jjongie, lie down for a minute," you coax gently, guiding him to stretch out along the seats. But he remains unmoving, clutching onto you as if fearing you'll slip away if he lets go. With a soft sigh, you stroke the back of his head, your hands moving in a soothing rhythm. "I promise, I am not going anywhere," you whisper, your words a tender vow to him.
Yet, your attempts to reassure him seem to go unheard. His face burrows deeper into your stomach, his words muffled by the fabric of your t-shirt and the weight of his tears.
You exchange a worried glance with Jake and Sunghoon, “How much did he have to drink?” you ask, scared of the answer they will give. Your ex-boyfriend has always been so good at holding his liquor that it must have been a hefty amount he consumed.
“Like two weeks' wage worth,” Sunghoon winces, his neck tightening as he looks at his best friend.
"Oh, baby..." you sigh softly, feeling a wave of empathy wash over you. Returning your attention to Jongseong, you press a tender kiss to the crown of his head, hoping to offer some comfort amidst his distress. His response is to cling to you even tighter, his sobs echoing against your chest as he seeks solace in your embrace.
You need to get him home, he’s a mess and the longer he stays like this, the more his body is going to wear out. 
With a gentle hand, you stroke his hair, your touch a soothing caress against his trembling form. Despite the chaos swirling around you, you find a semblance of peace in this intimate moment, anchored by the bond that still lingers between you.
"I've got you, Jjongie," you whisper softly, drawing back as he eases up his grip on you. His friends go to help you but you halt them with a firm gesture, "You guys can go, I've got it from here."
Sunghoon shakes his head, concern etched on his face. "He's too heavy, Y/N. You won't be able to manage him into the flat without us," he protests.
But you stand your ground. This is your and Jongseong's mess, and you can’t let others help you clean it up, "It's okay. You guys have done your shift for tonight. Go home," you insist, your voice resolute.
Reluctantly, Sunghoon and Jake nod and bid you goodnight before going their separate ways home, leaving you alone with Jongseong and the weight of your shared history.
Taking a deep breath, you hoist him in, his body listening to you a little more now that you’ve reassured him you aren’t leaving him. He sprawls over the backseats and lays still, the alcohol consuming him into some form of comatose now that he has relaxed slightly.
You slide into the driver's seat, the engine humming to life beneath you. Glancing at Jongseong's slumbering form in the rearview mirror, you steel yourself for the journey ahead.
_____
Arriving at his house makes you more nervous than before. This wasn’t just his flat, it used to be your shared home, the place you lived for 2 and half years and made countless memories in.
You were the one to move out and find your own place, thinking it was best since your work was further away and you could find an apartment closer to it. But the truth is, you just couldn’t face being reminded of him in each room and in the pieces of furnishings.
It was selfish of you to leave him with the remnants of your relationship surrounding him, all you thought about was you and your needs, neglecting to think about how he might feel being surrounded by nothing but memories.
Lugging him into the flat, his legs are working in tandem with you now unlike before but he still isn’t proving to be the easiest person to carry. The last time you had to hold his weight like this was when he got drunk at your prom after taking sneaky shots in the hotel garden with his friends. It was funny but you blame him for some of your back pain that you’ve endured in your early twenties.
As you push open the door and step into the living room, a wave of nostalgia washes over you like a tsunami. Though only seven months have passed, it feels like a lifetime since you last stood in this space with him by your side. Everything remains unchanged, frozen in time since the day you left. The same couch sits in its familiar spot, adorned with throw pillows and blankets you bought for last season. Photographs of you both, captured during Christmases and holidays, adorn the walls, each one a snapshot of happier times. Even the vase that his mum had gotten you both for your housewarming gift, one that you loved and he hated, remains in its pride of place on the mantlepiece.
You push your thoughts down and make your way to your once-shared bedroom, walking through the memories and heaving your ex-boyfriend along slowly. His nose nudges into your hair, sweeping in your scent as he loses himself in the feeling of you.
As you reach the familiar threshold, you can't help but feel a pang of bittersweet longing. This room, once a sanctuary where you both shared your laughter and bodies, now serves as a poignant reminder of the love you've lost.
Gently, you ease Jongseong onto the bed, sitting him up, “I’m going to get you some clean boxers okay?” you ask him but he’s not here, not really, so you make your way to the drawers on the other side of the room.
Walking over, you spot a familiar t-shirt lying crumpled on your old side of the bed. You make a b-line to investigate it and as you pick up the crumpled t-shirt, a flood of memories washes over you, transporting you back to simpler times. Your fingers trace the familiar fabric, still faintly carrying the scent of you, now mingled with his cologne. You piece it all together pretty quickly, the way it still smells faintly of you but is not starting to be overpowered by his cologne. He hugs it at night to find peace of mind.
“Oh, Jjongie,” you sigh, heart reaching out to him. You’re no better, you have one of his hoodies that you snuck into your luggage as you packed and wear it when you’re at home. Just like your t-shirt, his hoodie is starting to lose its scent from the amount of times you’ve hugged yourself to sleep in it.
Jongseong has always been reserved, his emotions carefully guarded behind a facade of reason and rationale. To see him like this, vulnerable and raw, strikes a chord deep within you. If he had always worn his heart on his sleeve, perhaps it would be easier to understand. But the complexity of his emotions only serves to deepen the ache in your chest.
You place the t-shirt back on the pillow before opening the dresser drawer and retrieve a clean pair of boxers, his favourite ones with the faded Hellow Kitty print that you've always teased him about.
Gently, you begin to undress him while he rambles incoherent nonsense that you can’t understand between the mix of tears and drunk slurring. The top half is easy but the bottom half proves difficult as he only looks up at you, whispering pleas as he stares at you, keeping his bum firmly sat on the edge of the bed.
As you finally manage to remove Jongseong's jeans and boxers, leaving him naked, a new layer of vulnerability settles over the room. He sits before you bathed in the soft glow of the hallway light, his silhouette outlined in the darkness.
His beauty, illuminated by the faint light, is both captivating and heartbreaking. The familiarity of his form, once etched in your memory, now lays before you in the flesh, a tangible reminder of the love you still harbour for him. How could you not still love him? He was perfect in every way possible.
"Stay with me," he whispers, his voice a gentle plea as his hands begin to roam your sides, tracing the contours of your body beneath your shirt. Each touch ignites a flurry of sensations within you, sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
He pulls you onto his lap, your sweatpants becoming the barrier between his cock and your pussy. Yet, none of you are really thinking about that right now, all you both want is to hold one another again.
“Jongseong, we broke up, and for good reason,” you rationalise with not only him but yourself as you find yourself sinking into his touch as his hands roam your back.
Nuzzling his nose against yours, he begins to cry softly again, his face rubbing itself against yours as his tears transfer from his cheeks to yours, “Please, baby, don’t leave me,” he mumbles as his lips ghost over yours. 
He doesn’t just mean tonight, he means forever. A tear from your eye cascades down your face, getting lost in the mixture of his, your empathy for him overwhelming you because you feel the same way he does. You need him in every way, you need to be close to him, to feel his heart beating in synch with yours once again.
But you know better than this. You’re both just prolonging heartache if you succumb to being with him again. You can’t give each other what you need.
“Baby, don’t do this,” you beg him, knowing that he has the power to pull you back into his life with the click of his fingers, that resolve you have worked so hard to build up now hangs in the balance, “Let me get you changed and then into bed, yeah?”
Reasoning with him is a lost cause, his arms now hugging you tightly like before as he ignores your suggestion. The last thing he wants is to put on those boxers because he knows when he does that you’ll leave. 
"Please, Princess," his voice is raw with emotion, his desperation palpable in the air between you. And as you look into his eyes, you see the depth of his longing mirrored in your own. 
His plea hangs in the air, a heavy weight pressing down on your already burdened heart. You feel torn between the overwhelming desire to give in to his request and the harsh reality of the situation.
With a deep breath, you summon the strength to gently extricate yourself from his embrace, feeling the weight of his disappointment lingering in the air. His hurt expression tugs at your heartstrings, but you shake your head firmly, "Just tonight, okay?" you assure him, your voice soft but resolute.
Curse you and your heart that caves into his pleas so easily.
You disregard getting him dressed and instead, remove your sweatpants and replace them with those very boxers you planned to adorn him with and swap out your t-shirt for the one on your old pillow. Jongseong clumsily climbs into his covers, getting comfortable and finding some happiness in the fact that you’ll be in his arms at least for a little while. 
Once you climb into your side of the bed, he instinctively hugs you from behind, the comfort of your body pressed against his. He spoons you, tucking his face in your neck as he exhales in contentment. This is all he has been craving since that night you left and he couldn’t be happier. All the turmoil and anguish from earlier slowly depletes as he finds himself sinking into a much-needed sleep.
You can’t deny you feel the same, his arms wrapped around you feel like home, like you’ve been on a seven-month business trip and you’re now finally back where you belong. You sink into him further, relishing his skin against yours.
“Happy birthday, Jjongie,” you whisper, bringing his hand up to kiss it before intertwining your fingers with his.
_____
Waking up, Jongseong feels like his whole body has crashed into a brick wall. His bones ache and his head feels tight, but there is a weight that feels so familiar yet foreign, his legs tangled around something and his arms holding it close. This feels different from the t-shirt of yours he clings to every night, this has more substance.
Please don’t be some random girl he thinks to himself, scared to open his eyes. 
Even if he did want to open them he couldn’t because they are being held together so tight by something. Was he crying last night? Actually, what even happened last night?
He replays the fragments of the evening in his mind, a few scattered images begin to surface - Jake and Sunghoon dragging him to Haven, the raucous atmosphere of the bar, and the ill-advised decision to ride the mechanical bull. And then nothing.
As he tries to recounter the night, you see him attempt to pry his eyes open and decide to help him out. Swiping your thumb over his eyes, you wipe away the mix of his dried-in tears and sleep. He looks so confused when you touch him and his body tenses.
Either he is having a severe case of hallucinations to the point where he is starting to physically feel you or the girl that he took home last night resembles your touch. God, how he hoped it was the first one. 
Opening his eyes with your help, he blinks away the blur and sets his eyes on your face, his expression reading one of relief that quickly turns into astonishment.
“Y/N? Baby?” he whispers, his hands instinctively reaching for your cheek, “Please be real.” The same words he pleaded out last night leave his lips again. Jongseong has spent so many nights dreaming of you, wishing in an alternative universe that he can hold you again, so much so that this doesn’t feel real.
You don’t know what to say but obviously, you have to say something. It was one thing to confront drunk Jongseong who didn’t have a wit about him but now it feels like there’s a boulder on your chest as you try to conjure up the courage to speak to a sober, semi-alert Jongseong. 
All you can do is nod, no words escaping your dried lips. You look down to see you and his limbs mangled together just like they used to be, the feeling of his body pressed so tightly against yours almost feels like heaven.
He takes in the sight of you, the lines of disbelief on his features soften, replaced by a glimmer of hope. Slowly, almost tentatively, he reaches out to you, his fingers brushing against your cheek as if to confirm your presence.
The touch sends a jolt of electricity coursing through you, he’s caressing your cheek so tenderly it reminds you of the time you had the shift from hell and Jongseong held you the whole night, whispering sweet words into your ear and stroking your tears away, just like this.
Except there are no tears this time, you’re all cried out - months of mourning the loss of your relationship will do that to you.
As Jongseong's eyes meet yours, a flicker of recognition passes through them, followed by a wave of embarrassment. His voice is soft as he speaks, a hint of uncertainty lacing his words, "What are you doing here?" he asks, his tone laden with confusion.
"You got pretty drunk last night," understatement "And Jake asked me to come pick you up."
You can feel the tension in the air as Jongseong processes your words, his expression a mixture of shame and regret, "Sorry, I don't usually drink that much," he murmurs, his voice tinged with remorse.
The explanation stings, not because Jongseong has been drinking more, but because of the distance it creates between you. It's as if he's explaining himself to a stranger, rather than to the person who once knew him better than anyone else. The past six years you’ve known how he knows his limit and that he doesn’t tend to breach it, not subconsciously. 
All you do is nod, accepting his explanation as you slowly start to detangle yourself from him, “I better get going.”
“Y/N, please let's talk,” he pleads as his voice wavers, his grip tightening around your waist, and his desperation palpable as he pleads for your attention. But you've made up your mind, and no amount of persuasion can sway you from the path you've chosen.
"Jongseong, please, let's not do this," you implore, your voice tinged with a mixture of sorrow and resolve, "We're only going to hurt ourselves again."
You both know the reasons behind your breakup are deeply rooted, immutable truths that cannot be changed. It's not a matter of cheating or petty disagreements—this is about fundamental differences in desires and aspirations for the future.
But Jongseong refuses to accept defeat, his forehead coming to rest against yours as he breathes his love out, "Princess, we can work it out, I know we can," he insists, his words heavy with sincerity.
You steel yourself against the onslaught of his love, knowing that to give in would only prolong the inevitable pain, "We want different things, Jjongie," you remind him gently, your voice tinged with regret.
“I can do without them. It’s you I can’t live without…I can’t breathe without you here by my side.” His words are sincere and you know it, but you can’t accept it. When you both discussed your future, he looked so excited at the prospect of kids that your heart broke instantly. You knew right away that you couldn’t give him what he wanted most.
Closing your eyes and sucking in the bottom of your cheeks, you steady yourself to have this conversation yet again, “You can’t give up the idea of having kids. Having the life you want is much more important than me. You can find someone who can give you that.”
It hurts to say but you need to rip the bandaid off quickly. 
“You think I want that life with anyone but you?” His voice raises lightly, hinting at the anger rising into his chest. He needs you to listen to him, to understand him, “Y/N, if it’s not with you then I don’t want that life.”
Shaking your head determinedly, you sit up, “But I can’t give you that life, it’s not what I want.” You feel like you’re reliving the argument that ended it all those months ago.
“That’s okay.”
“No, It’s not,” It’s your turn to get angry, your eyebrows lacing together as you try to read him. How can he say all of this so easily? Like he wasn’t trying to promise you that he would change his entire life plan just to be with you. Is it romantic? Sure, but it’s also fucking stupid. No one should change just to keep someone they love because if they were meant to be, then their values would align…right?
"It's not that simple, Jongseong," you argue through the silence, your voice tinged with frustration, "You can't just sweep aside your dreams for the sake of our relationship. What about what you want? What about your own happiness?"
Jongseong sits up, the covers hiding his naked lower half; he hadn’t realised he was naked and it only adds a new layer to his vulnerability. He is laying himself bare to you.
But Jongseong's gaze remains unwavering, his determination evident in the set of his jaw, "Since we broke up, I've realised that you are the life I want," he declares, his words carrying the weight of his conviction, "Whatever that looks like for you, I want it."
You feel his words like a pickaxe, slowly breaking away at the wall you’ve spent months building around your heart and reason. A whirlwind of conflicting emotions sweeps over you. On one hand, his declaration of love sparks a glimmer of hope amidst the ruins of your fractured relationship. Yet, on the other hand, doubt claws at your insides, gnawing away at any semblance of certainty, the pure love that you have for him only wishes to make sure he’s happy and gets everything he wants in life.
"Jongseong, I..." you start, your voice wavering as you grapple with the turmoil inside. How do you express the depth of your feelings?
Grabbing your face with his large hands, he kisses you, his soft lips now coating yours. You’ve missed him so much that you become overwhelmed by his actions, a soft tear leaking from your ducts.
So much for being all cried out, you think to yourself.
"It's you, Y/N, I only need you," Jongseong whispers against your lips, his urgency evident as he seeks solace in the warmth of your embrace, stealing kisses with a hunger born from longing.
In spite of yourself, you find your lips responding to his touch, drawn in by the familiar sensation of his mouth against yours. Your arms instinctively wrap around him, fingers grazing lightly over the muscles of his back as you hold him close; your brain is telling you to push him away but your heart is pulling him tighter to you. 
"It's not fair to you, Jjongie," you murmur, the words weighted with a sense of guilt and remorse.
"I'd rather be with you happily than with kids and someone else miserably," Jongseong confesses, his words carrying the weight of his heart's deepest desires.
Jongseong wishes you could see it from his point of view; of course, he has wanted kids and a comfortable life for so long but the idea of achieving that when you are not his wife seems fucking ridiculous. There is no one in this world he wants to be with other than you and if that means he has to be an uncle rather than a dad, so be it.
You are all he has ever wanted. To grow old with you, to experience each of your accomplishments together and have you close to him. He wants to protect you and look after you the way he knows he should and that is his new life goal. This isn’t a decision he has made lightly but a decision he wanted to make.
His hands glide down your sides, trailing over your thighs as his kisses continue, each touch a manifestation of the craving that has consumed him. His need for you is overwhelming, every fibre of his being yearning for you in every possible way. Another moment without you feels unbearable, as if he might die.
You surrender to his touch, sinking back onto the bed as he hovers above you, his grip on your thighs firm yet tender. The intensity of his desire leaves marks, but in this moment, you welcome anything he offers.
It's astonishing how the feel of his lips on yours dismantles your resolve, scattering your apprehensions like leaves in the wind.
Slowly, he removes from you the t-shirt that has absorbed his tears on countless nights and the boxers you borrowed from him, leaving you exposed beneath him. As he looks upon your naked figure, his eyes drink in every curve and contour, offering silent gratitude to the heavens for letting him have you like this. You are everything he wants and more.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N,” he whispers into your mouth as he presses his body hard against yours, his member rubbing itself against your folds. 
The feeling of him rubbing against you is enough to elicit a moan. No amount of toys was enough to satisfy you, not the way Jongseong could. Over the years you learned about one another’s bodies so intimately that no one could ever know you the way he does, not even yourself. 
You couldn’t bear the thought of sleeping with someone else, even if you and Jongseong had broken up, your heart couldn’t do it. You never even considered a one night stand because deep down you knew that your body belonged to Jongseong and no one else.
He moves his hips, slowly rubbing himself against you, the bell of his cock grazing your clit teasingly. It feels like a dream for him to touch you this way again, and the fact that you were coating his cock with your wetness was enough to tell him that you need this too.
Kissing you desperately, his tongue darts into your mouth and swirls with yours as he seeks to taste you, his buds dancing along with yours. He moans into your mouth and acts as an echo of his love for you.
“I missed you so much,” he whispers as his hips continue to move slowly, teasing your hole with his tip each time he draws back. It’s becoming increasingly obvious how much it’s starting to irritate you, your need to have him inside you is evident in your whines of frustration.
"I missed you too, baby. More than anything," you confess, your hand finding his cock as you press against him, seeking to create greater friction between you. With each movement, the pressure builds, sending waves of pleasure coursing through both of you.
With each synchronised movement, the tension between you mounts, the desire for one another lingering in the warm air. His hips continue their slow, teasing rhythm, each brush against your core sending sparks of want up your heat and into your chest.
Feeling the urgency building within you, you guide his cock with precision, pressing it against your eager entrance. A soft gasp escapes your lips as you feel the head of his length dip into you only slightly, the anticipation of being filled with him heightening your senses.
"Please," you whisper, your voice laden with need and longing, a plea for him to take you.
With a teasing grin, Jongseong relents to your plea, but not in the way you expected. Instead of thrusting into you the way you want him to, he trails his fingertips along the curves of your body, igniting a trail of fire in his wake. His touch is light and tantalising, tracing patterns across your skin as he savours every moment. He wants to take his time with you, no matter how much his dick longs to be surrounded by your walls.
You like to be teased even for a little bit, the payoff at the end always hits the right spot.
You squirm beneath his touch, aching for more, but he continues with deliberate slowness. His fingers dance over your heated flesh, exploring every inch of your body with an intimacy that leaves you breathless. Each caress sends shivers down your spine, building the anticipation to unbearable heights. God, you missed his hands all over you.
As his right hand dips lower, he begins tracing circles around your sensitive clit and you can't help but arch your back in pleasure, a soft moan escaping your lips. The sensation is electrifying, sending waves coursing through your body as he expertly teases you.
Feeling your body tremble with anticipation, his touch becomes more urgent as he presses his fingers against your throbbing clit h and with practised skill, he begins to move faster, applying just the right amount of pressure to have you writhing beneath him.
“You look so fucking perfect, all desperate and whiney like this, Princess,” he says as he leans down to kiss you, breathing in deeply through his nose as he tries to fill each of his senses with you. It wasn’t just enough to feel you, he wanted to taste you, to inhale your scent, to hear you cry out for him, to see you unravel beneath him.
Your breath catches in your throat as the intensity of his touch sends you spiralling towards the edge of bliss. Each stroke of his fingers drives you closer to the brink, your body humming with the need to let go.
But just as you feel yourself teetering on the edge, Jongseong suddenly slows his movements, drawing out the pleasure with agonising slowness. It's a torturous tease, the brief moments of intensity followed by long, drawn-out strokes that leave you gasping for more.
“Please, please, please, Jjongie,” you whimper in frustration, your body aching for release as Jongseong continues to play you like a symphony, alternating between fast and slow, building the tension to unbearable levels. Just when you think you can't take it anymore, he finally gives in, his fingers dipping into your heat and thrusting into you at a rough pace, your pussy soaking his digits as he coaxes out your orgasm.
“You’re clamping down on my fingers so hard, Baby, you gonna cum?” he asks arrogantly, knowing that with each curl of his finger, he is watching your body lose control and surrender to him.
Nodding quickly, you pull him down for a long, searing kiss as his thumb joins the party and flicks your clit rapidly, “Oh my god,” you moan out into his mouth through bated breaths, “I’m gonna cum, Jongseong, please can I cum?”
“You never have to ask baby,” he moves his mouth to your ear and lightly nibbles your lobe, “Cum for me, Princess,” he gently commands.
Jongseong continues to work his magic, his fingers moving with expert precision as he guides you through the throes of ecstasy. Your vision blurs and every nerve in your body hums with pleasure as you reach the pinnacle of bliss.
With a final, desperate cry, you let go, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. You arch your back and cry out his name as pleasure consumes you, your body trembling with the intensity of it all.
His fingers remain still inside you, but his thumb maintains its relentless pace, each swipe sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your body. Your hips instinctively twitch in response, your nub throbbing with sensitivity and yearning for a respite. Yet, Jongseong shows no signs of letting up, his determined flicking only intensifying.
"You like that, baby?" Jongseong's voice is hoarse with desire as he intently watches your reactions. His eyes are dark with need as he continues to work you with wild desire. 
Your senses are overwhelmed by sensations pouring through you, so you can only respond with a gasping nod. Every single nerve in your body is buzzing with ecstasy, and all you can think of is the delicious agony of his thumb against your delicate clit.
"Tell me what you want, Princess," he asks, his voice a seductive whisper in your ear, "Do you want more?"
You can only make a frantic plea, your words barely comprehensible in the middle of intense pleasure. "Yes, please, Jongseong... More..."
Jongseong's lips curl into a wicked grin as he hears your plea, his confidence growing with each breathless gasp that escapes your lips. With a teasing twinkle in his eye, he moves his fingers again, pressing them against your contracting walls, his hot breath ghosting over your ear as he speaks.
"What do you want, Y/N?" he whispers, his voice dripping with anticipation, "Tell me, and I'll give it to you."
Your mind is a haze of desire, but amidst the fog, one thought stands out clear and demanding. You need him inside you, filling you completely with his presence. With trembling hands, you reach for him, your fingers curling around his cock, guiding him to where you need him most, pushing his hand out of the way.
"I want you," you whisper, your voice trembling with need. "I want all of you, Jongseong." When you utter the words, there’s a deeper meaning to them, a meaning that Jongseong is clinging to.
The way your fingers wrap around his rock-hard member elicits a hiss from him, your touch mixed with your words only fuels him to give you everything you need. 
Jongseong lets out a guttural groan, entirely surrendering to your touch and words. His eyes darken with want as he watches you take control, and his breath quickens with anticipation as you guide him inside you. His breath coming in ragged gasps, he looks into your eyes with a mixture of desire and adoration, "God, Y/N," he murmurs, his voice rough with need, “You feel so fucking incredible. I’ve missed how you just suck me in like this.”
You look down and watch as his entire length gets lost in your heat, his cock’s head hitting deep within you. You’ve missed how he fills you up so much but you hadn’t realised just how badly until right now as he shallowly thrusts into you.
You respond with a low moan of pleasure, your nails digging into his skin as you pull him closer, urging him to go deeper. "Yes, Jongseong," you whisper, your voice laced with longing, "just like that. I need this so much, I need you."
With each thrust, he grunts in response, his movements becoming more desperate as he seeks to satisfy your every desire, "I'm yours, Y/N," he declares, his voice filled with raw emotion, "completely and utterly yours."
As he lifts your legs and closes them, gently draping them over his left shoulder, your warmth envelops his shaft, drawing him in closer. Jongseong relishes the sensation of your tightness, revelling in the snug embrace of your canal around him. And you too find delight in the pressure of his girth, relishing the way he stretches you further with every powerful thrust.
Each movement of his hips is deliberate, each one designed to bring you both closer to the edge of ecstasy. As his hands stroke your legs tenderly, contrasting with the intensity of his thrusts, you find yourself lost in the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies moving as one.
His jerks grow more intense, the pace quickening as he drives deeper into you, each stroke bringing you closer to the edge, "You feel so good," he groans, his voice filled with unrestrained passion, "so fucking perfect for me, Princess."
In response, you curve your back and meet his thrusts with equal conviction, the heat between you building to an almost euphoric level. "Jongseong," you exclaim, your voice a symphony of fulfilment, "don't stop, please don't stop."
Jongseong intensifies his efforts with a wild growl, each movement driven by a burning need to push you to the edge of satisfaction and beyond. At this moment, there is only you and him, burned by the fires of passion.
With a swift motion, your lover bends you in half, positioning your legs by your head as he quickens his already rapid pace. Lost in a whirlwind of desire, your eyes roll back and your hands instinctively grip his shoulders, your chest heaving with each forceful thrust of his cock. Your nails dig into his skin, leaving marks on his shoulder blades as you cling to him, lost in the intensity of the moment.
Feeling the sting of your nails, he grits his teeth and strains his neck, the veins in his temples pulsating as he fights the overwhelming urge to release inside you right then and there.
“Fuck, claw my back, Baby,” he growls, his voice thick with desire, “make me yours again.” With determination, he continues to pound into you, each movement bringing you closer to your shared orgasm.
After hearing Jongseong’s go-ahead, you dig into his back, dragging your nails across his skin, leaving fiery red lines in their wake, just like he wants. It burns him in the most delectable way, making his cock throb inside of you.
Your breaths combine in the air, creating an ensemble of desire as you both reach the edge. The tension between you grows with each thrust, a crescendo of want reaching its peak.
As he slams into you furiously, his voice fills the room with urgency, "You gonna cum again, Princess? You want it?" His words are a mixture of want and domination, starting a fire inside you that threatens to consume everything in its path.
With a firm nod, you meet his gaze, your eyes brimming with want. "Yes, Jongseong, please," you beg, your voice a frantic appeal for release once again.
In response, he increases his efforts, his motions growing more frenzied as he propels you both to your orgasms. And then, with a final, strong thrust, you shatter, your body convulsing from the ferocity of your release. Jongseong follows closely behind, his own climax mirroring yours as he finds release within you, “Fuck!” 
His body stills as he shoots his seed into you, the tremble of both your bodies vibrates the bed beneath you. Finding it hard to keep himself up, he falls onto you, moving his cock into you further, only drawing out a final moan from your lips.
After a couple of minutes, Jongseong rolls over, his chest heaving up and down rapidly. God, he missed the way you feel under him, he could go another ten rounds if you asked. 
But that would mean you would stay, and is that even something you want? He doesn’t want to ask, your answer being the deciding factor of whether he goes on his life with misery or happiness.
He knows he can’t force you into this relationship but he hopes he has done enough to convince you that you are all he wants.
“Please be with me again, Y/N. I can’t live without you,” he whispers into the air, not daring to look at you.
You on the other hand only want to look at him, to see if you can really try this again, “Even if it means no kids? No playdates with other parents? No family trips to Jeju?”
“Even without all that.” He does look sincere, his eyes now burning into yours with a new lease of determination.
The truth is, you’ve missed him so much that it hurts. Behind the strong facade is just a girl who misses her lover. Being without him is like being in a fire with no escape, constantly fighting your way out of a blaze while your lungs collapse. He’s the clear path to fresh air you desperately need, there is no denying it. And clearly, he thinks the same about you. 
Seeing him last night so fragile and broken engulfed you in the flames, burning you alive because you know that you feel every ounce of hurt that he is. It was a mirror to how you were feeling and you don’t think you knew how badly you needed him until that moment. You were trying to be so strong about it all, giving yourself only a short amount of time to grieve that as you looked at Jongseong last night, you know he has done the same.
You need one another to extinguish the fire.
“Jongseong, truly think about this, this isn’t me saying no to letting you go on a lads holiday, I’m denying you the opportunity to be a father,” you plead with him one last time, giving him an out to all of this as you lay it all on the table.
“Princess, I have had seven months to think about it. I am not compromising or altering my needs for you, this is a decision that I have made on my own. If I truly wanted the life I thought I did, I wouldn’t be begging you to be with me right now. I know this isn’t an easy choice but I have never been more sure about anything in my life.” 
Jongseong kisses all over your face, each one a receipt of his sincerity.
His words strike straight into your heart. He’s serious. A part of you wants to still feel guilty like you’re forcing him into this but on the other hand, he’s right. You’ve given him a multitude of opportunities to leave and find a girl who will cater to him, but he hasn’t. 
He doesn’t need to because all he needs is you and your love, to Jongseong, that is all he needs in his life.
“Okay, but if you ever change your min-”
He interjects with a kiss, one filled with so much happiness and love that it’s almost intoxicating; either that or all the booze in his system has transferred its way into your bloodstream. 
You giggle as he rolls over on top of you again, peppering loud and wet kisses all over your face and neck akin to a dog licking you from utter joy. Your hands try to fight him off playfully, your laugh growing louder as he nuzzles into your neck.
“Oh, wait!” Your lover's sudden pause catches your attention, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he swiftly rolls off the bed and rushes over to the messy pile on the chair by his dresser.
Curious, you crane your neck to see what he's up to, watching as he retrieves something from the floor.
“What is it?” you inquire, intrigued by his enthusiasm.
Turning back to you, Jongseong holds up the familiar torn sheet of paper that you recognise instantly, his smile lighting up his face. He grabs a pen from the desk and returns to your side, handing you both items.
“Tick it off,” he urges, pointing to the bottom of the page where a new addition was made yesterday morning. Despite his internal conflict about the list, he couldn't bring himself to tear it up. If he never saw you again, this would be a precious memory to hold onto.
So he added a new aspiration at the bottom.
Taking the pen from his hand, you read it slowly, “Make Y/N mine again..”
You gaze up at him in awe, understanding the significance of this gesture and how much the list means to him, “You wished for this?” you ask, to which he simply nods at your question, “Then you need to tick it off.” You push the pen and paper back to him but he stops you.
“No, you made the wish come true, so you need to tick it off,” he replies, the corners of his lips upturning slightly.
So with the pen, you draw a line over the words, scoring it off once and for all as you beam proudly, happy that both of your souls are now joined together again. You pull him in for a long, deep kiss, the bucket list discarded as you lose yourselves in the moment once again.
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lovemebutleavemewild · 3 months
Text
Johnny brings you to base for inspection by his superior officer.
When Johnny brings you to meet his friends on base, you're a little nervous, sure, but it's nothing you can't handle.
Of course, military men are brash, but they're nothing on your Johnny, and when they make their jokes, you're more than able to give back as good as you get.
But then Johnny tells you it's time to meet Ghost.
"My lieutenant, hen. My boss."
And you think that's why he sounds nervous, that he wants to impress the man, so you go with him to his office, knock and are told to come inside.
Find it very sexy when Johnny stands to attention in front of the man, actually.
Ghost is ... something else and you don't want to ruin anything for Johnny by ogling, but ... you've always had a thing for masks and dominating men, so seeing your own man submit to another is doing things to you.
"This her?" the man asks, jerking his head at you.
"Yes sir," Johnny says, not moving, even as his superior stands and comes around the desk to lean against it. He clicks his fingers at you.
"Here. Now." You blink and look at Johnny, not sure how to respond to being talked to like a dog, but he doesn't say anything.
Suddenly the man on the desks stands to his full height and strides towards you, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up at him.
"Don't look at him. I gave you an instruction,"  he almost snarls. "Do y'know why you're here?"
You shake your head jerkily, suddenly sure that "to meet Johnny's friends" is not the right answer.
"Well, Johnny here kep' on about his new pretty bird and I decided I had to check things out, make sure you were good for him. Told him to bring you right in for inspection."
"In-inspection?" you squeak. Ghost leans down so he's looking at you directly through the slits in his mask.
"Said you wouldn't mind. Said you were his dirty girl. Tha' right'?"
And the thing is, Johnny has called you that before and nothing gets you going more. It's no different now. So you just nod dumbly, seeing the edges of his mask lift when he smiles.
He leans back against the desk, leaving you alone in the middle of the room.
"So strip."
And you do, pulling your jumper over your head and slipping out of your shoes, tights, skirt. You're wearing a matching bra and panties, had some vision of what you and Johnny would do when you got home.
Ghost circles you slowly.
"Hmm, nice lil' set," he says, pushing his finger under the strap of your underwear and letting it go so it snaps back against your leg.
"But not very good at following instructions," he rumbles. "Told you to strip, darlin'. Why'd you stop?"
You shiver and, with shaky hands, undo the clasp of your bra, letting it fall to the side. Finally, you push your underwear down, stepping out of them.
Ghost watches you, eyes unfathomable. Then he speaks again.
"Bend over the desk."
When you do, he leans over you, letting his hand run down your side and over your ass.
He tuts.
"No marks, Johnny? Not even one little bite?"
His hand flashes up suddenly and comes down hard on your ass, making you gasp. He leans over you, front pressed to your back so he can reach your ear with his mouth.
"We better fix that."
1K notes · View notes
bunny584 · 4 months
Text
OBSESSED: TOJI
A/N: You’re booked. Busy. Filled to the brim with board meetings. Then your car decides to stop functioning. There’s one mechanic shop open and somehow they seem to only hire God’s sweetest eye candy. One of which keeps getting stuck in the back of your throat. Uh—I mean—
S/N: Toji Mother-Fucking (literally) Fushiguro. Idk why it took me so long to feature this green-eyed monster but I am foaming at the mouth for this AU, him, and his lil vampy co-worker. Toji girlies, can’t WAIT to rush Toji Tau Sigma this fall 🙂‍↕️
C/W: ….he’s his own CW. Mature, 18+. MDNI. 
Art credit: yashaliart_01 on insta
Music: for the love of God if you don’t listen to Obsessed x Mariah Carey I’m calling the coast guard. Reader wants to pretend Toji is not her newest vice so BAD. Ive never laughed so hard and been so painfully turned on writing a piece. SOMEONE tell me not to make this a series RN.
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“Can I get a little help here?”
Toji grabs the rag nestled in the back pocket of his heavy work cargos. Charcoal ink stains the fabric. 
Bugatti engines are such a bitch. And make a mess like one too. 
“Hello? Am I talking to a wall or..?”
And just like that, you’ve earned yourself a few more seconds of silence. 
The mechanic’s Evergreen gaze and satisfied smirk peer back at him in the mirror. Not even a second passes before you ensnare him in your fiery scrutiny. 
Ahh, yes. Just his type. 
You are mean. 
With a sexy fucking silhouette. An angry merlot painted on those beautiful, pouted lips. A fresh manicure and keys to your Benz dig into hips that have definitely stopped traffic. 
The mirror image isn’t enough of a bite. Toji needs a real taste, so he turns around to lock eyes with his new favorite unsatisfied customer. 
“Mornin, doll.” 
“Nice of you to grace me with your presence! I was starting to think no one worked here.” 
Melodramatic, the way you narrow your gaze to bring his name tag into focus. It’s hot, though. All this sarcasm and irritation. 
“—Toji? Is it?” You hiss venom. Clearly there’s a point you’re in a hurry to make. 
But..
it’s 7:13 AM on a lovely Monday morning.  Birds are singing. The Red Bull he just downed was particularly delicious. Life is good, right now. 
Toji has all the time in the world. 
He’s in no rush. Especially when a stunning, uptight, bratty little thing — sorry, career woman — like you woke up and chose him to be your personal punching bag. 
And he’s built to take hits. From fists much, much larger than yours, gorgeous.  
“Toji, it is. What can I do for you, darlin?” 
And he knew that sweet, innocent pet name would dump diesel fuel all over those pretty flames. 
You ramble off your full name as if he is going to use it. By the time he’s through with you, you won’t have any use for it either. 
His name, though. You’ll have plenty use for his name. 
“…and when the stupid thing turns on this morning, the dash light won’t turn off.” 
Toji lands on earth just in time to clasp the car keys shoved into his chest. You’re gawking at him. Expecting a fury of motion and urgency. Because your charming little fingers demand it. 
So accustomed to time stopping and starting on your watch, aren’t you? 
“You’re so pretty.” Toji responds with a shit eating grin. 
Just for the huffing and puffing you’re currently displaying. Sputtering about how unprofessional he is. And how much work you have to get done. 
Adorable. 
Toji slips past your disdain and makes his way to the front door. Matte black G-Wagon with a champagne interior. The vision of you behind the wheel, scowling at traffic, in your tailored dress and stilettos makes his cock twitch. 
“She’s a beauty.” He calls from the driver seat. 
“That’s why I bought it. Can you please pick up the pace a little?”
Both arms are folded across your chest, eyes rolling at his wasted breath stating the obvious. 
You’re going to look phenomenal when he has those defiant arms pinned above your head. He’ll diminish those daggers in your eyes to tears. And make those puffy lips whimper for mercy. 
Toji will have you begging him to pick up the pace in no time. Your snarky comment was just a test run. 
The mechanic lets out a low chuckle, his eyes scan the dash for the source of your apparent distress. 
The tire pressure gauge. 
Really, gorgeous? This is why you’re screwed so tightly this morning? 
It should take approximately 3 minutes to fix. But there’s no way Toji is letting you slip away from his skilled fingers so easily. Not when you need to be unwound.
Unraveled bit by bit until you’re a warm, sweet, puddle of manners and gratitude. 
“Alright, babydoll—“
“My name is—“
“I’ll have my guys get to workin on it, sweetheart.” 
He can play this game all day. You scoff. Temporarily placated by his promise of a fix. 
“It’s an all day job, though.” Toji’s right hand man comes into view. 
The only other guy in the shop (on the planet) to get as much play as he does without meaning to. 
Women are insane about his stupid, empty-headed, love-drunk stare. And the purple rings around his eyes like the last time he got sleep was in his mother’s womb. Always giggling and asking about “the hot one with the pigtails” and “the pretty one with the tattoo on his nose.”
If he were a less confident man, Toji would’ve called someone else over. But the kid gets his antics. 
And today is going to be stuffed with them. 
“Choso! Can you take this beauty to the back for repair?” 
Dracula’s first born is sporting his hair down today. Already a bit damp from work. He gives you a once over, then offers a smile that evaporates underwear off of women. 
“Happy to. Which beauty am I taking to the back?”
“Ha, quit your lover boy shit.” Toji teases, and you sneer at his hypocrisy. 
“The car, big guy. Have it ready by 5:00, yeah?”
“5:00 pm?” You do a thing with your hands eventually landing on your hips. And Toji’s dick leaks like a virgin. 
“Well, there must be a courtesy rental. My first meeting starts in an hour.”
“I’m so sorry, miss. We don’t have that.” 
Kamo, you slick fuck. 
Choso apologizes with his signature puppy-eyes and half open mouth. Even you, made of sharp words and soft curves. Goddess of Fire and Ice, you melt under his gaze. 
Toji snickers to himself, while you stutter to a shockingly patient understanding. 
Something about the boy looking half asleep and like he can’t string letters together to spell his own name always does the trick. Leaving you wide open for the kill. 
“Tell you what, sweetheart.” Toji moves in with an assassin’s expertise. 
“Consider me your courtesy rental.”
“I’m sorry—what?” You flicker between the two smiles, rightfully suspicious. 
“I’ll get you from point A to point B, safe and sound.” The mechanic offers again with a broad smile, dangling his own car keys in his hand. 
Pensive eyes drop down to your watch. Board meetings start soon and he is offering a courtesy ride. 
“Fine.” Finally, a little submission. 
“It’s a 10 minute drive. The high rise on the corner of Koen and Mitake street.” 
The financial district. No wonder why you’re so tightly wound. 
“I know exactly, where we are going.” Toji beams. Beating your slender fingers to the passenger door. You barely mutter a ‘thanks’ before settling into the seat. 
You in your heels. And suit jacket. And handbag that costs enough to feed a large family for 6 months. Nestled so perfectly into his passenger seat. Toji can’t help but acknowledge how hard his dick is right now. 
The career woman clearly doesn’t approve of how fast he is hurling down corner streets. But you should understand, no? Places to be, and all that jazz?
“Uh, I’m sorry, where exactly are you taking me?” You perk up. Darting those beautiful warm eyes at the very short building in front of you. 
Not the corner of Koen and Mitake street, but Toji’s favorite coffee shop about 3 blocks over. The only place in the city that can get an Americano right - La Parisian. 
Toji grins maniacally. Pulling his sports car into a front row spot. 
“Point A, darlin.”
“Look, I don’t know what kind of game you are playing but I swear—“
“C’monnn. Lighten up.” He turns to face your incredulous expression. You wear it well, by the way.
“People stand when you walk in a room.” He continues. “They’ll still stand if you’re 5 minutes late and properly caffeinated.” 
Silence. Two huffs. A bitten lower lip. And one long, drawn out sigh.
“Fine. 5 minutes, max. Then I’ve got to get going I have—“
“Meetings baby, I know.” Toji finishes you off. 
He steps out of the driver’s seat fast enough to be at your door before your fingers touch the handle. 
The two of you walk in stride (in Toji’s mind) to the cafe. It’s adorable how you beeline towards the pastry display. Salivating over the various treats. Doing the thing women do, badgering the person manning the register about nutritional details. 
As if your figure wouldn’t make any living red-blooded human being fall to their knees. 
“What can I get started for you?” The barista probes. 
“I’ll have a soy London Fog latte, please.” You flicker over to the dessert you think you’re leaving behind. 
“And?” Toji probes. He taps the glass in front of the vanilla macaroon.
Another crack in the shield. You flash him a genuine smile for 0.04 seconds before turning back to the register.
“…and a vanilla macaroon, please.” You’re cute when you’re sheepish. 
“And I’ll have the largest iced Americano you can make, thanks.” 
Toji closes out the transaction and you two mosey over to a small table by a window. Your shoulders relax with the first sip of coffee. 
A satisfied grin tugs on your chauffeur’s lips. He knew what you needed the second he laid eyes on you. 
Much to your chagrin, and Toji’s delight — conversation flows like a bottomless well between you. The second something warm and another thing sweet landed on your tongue — the shield crumbled down. 
You’re an account executive. 
You work 80+ hour weeks. 
Live in an uppity neighborhood with a Doberman named Rocky. You got him because you like walking around at night to clear your mind. Having a dog taller than you on its hind legs and probably twice your size has eased your anxiety about that. 
You have a mean sweet tooth. 
And you’re single. Have been for the last year or so. 
“And not looking to change that anytime soon.” You reiterate, tossing him a look. 
Toji holds his hands up in feigned defeat. “I wasn’t plannin’ on it, sweetheart.” 
You’ve warmed up to his pet names, albeit against your will. But you’re there. The both of you harmonize light-hearted laughter. Fitting together like missing puzzle pieces.
“Your eyes are so green.” 
A rather obvious observation of your own, after a few moments of comfortable silence. 
As if your eyes don’t bend time. 
Toji catches his breath before responding. 
“They are…your kids could have ‘em too, if you want.” 
You burst into another fit of giggles. Unknowingly driveling rogue pastry on your chin. Babbling on and on about how ridiculous he is. And how cheesy his pick up lines are.
Meanwhile, you’re sitting there all high powered and intelligent. With a smile that makes him want to be a better man than he is. 
…and pastry all over your chin. 
Yeah. 
He’s going to marry you one day. 
Toji reaches over and swipes the macaroon off your chin. A sharp gasp tumbles from your lips, staring at his fingers. Which Toji slips into his mouth. 
He’s a betting man and would put money down on the fact that the dessert tastes exponentially better off of your skin. 
“Toji!!” 
“What else can I do for you?” Each word more smug than the last. 
“You could’ve told me I had food on my face!” Bunny lines along your nose deepen when you frown and Toji’s cock throbs to life. 
“Why?” The mechanic shrugs. “I wanted to lick it off instead.” 
The choppy inhale is music to Toji’s ears. You avoid him. Like the plague. Peeling your gaze away and planting it on the side window. Under the guise of people watching. 
But Toji knows better. 
He doesn’t miss the way you struggle to swallow your last bite. Or your thighs coming together so aggressively beneath the small table, rip tides break the surface of his Americano. 
“I felt that, baby.” Toji leans in. Shameless about the way he scans your face. 
Your lips should be outlawed.
The bottom one is marginally fuller than the top, so it naturally hangs a bit open. Inviting the most vile thoughts from his cock. Toji’s rational mind went to sleep the second you climbed into his passenger seat, princess. 
“What?” You sputter, gulping down the rest of your U.K. cloudy cappuccino, or whatever. 
“I don’t know what you’re referring to.” Your voice is steady, but the fidgeting and cagey eye contact hold the truth. 
Oh, really? 
“You’re squirming in your seat.” Toji counters, unblinking. Filling as much of your personal space as he can without tipping over. 
“Quick to cross your legs—“
“Toji!” 
Is your underwear as sticky as your face is flushed? Saliva pools in one direction, warm pre-cum pools in the other. 
“You are so out of—“
“All that talkin’ and you haven’t denied it once, doll.”
Toji’s palm digs into his crotch underneath the table. You are fucking his brain smooth with the raspberry blush along your nose and high cheeks. Sure, the sarcasm and ball-busting is hot, but this? 
The Career Woman suddenly so flustered and shy? 
You’re already thawed out. All he needs to do is dive in. 
Toji blinks back to reality when you rocket up from the table at warped speed. Your fingers clumsily fondle the zipper of your purse. 
“Excuse me for a minute.” You’re halfway to the restroom stalls by the end of your sentence.
The mechanic lasers down to the serpentine curve of your hips. Your plump, perky ass is just begging to be handled. It’s a felony, the way your work dress hugs your body. 
Is he really going to do this?
Heat slams into his groin. Wave after wave of lust slowly chipping at his teetering self-control. 
You might slap him. 
Call him a goddamn pervert. 
…and just the thought of either of those things makes his dick beat against his zipper. 
Fuck it. 
Toji is slick, how he maneuvers his way over to the restrooms. Both single-use stalls occupied, he walks up to you muttering some kind of pep talk to yourself. 
“Get your shit together.” You spit out. 
Amused, Toji leans against the wall behind you. Curious about where this cute little speech is going to go. 
“He’s a rando you met at a mechanic shop. For fuck sake, are you that horny?”
“Sounds like it, baby.” Toji takes the liberty to answer. You whip your head around and crawl out of your skin. 
Eyes wider than a newborn kitten. Mouth gaping as if you’re trying to show off how much you can handle. Toji swallows a groan. He can’t lose control. Not a chance. He has to savor his first taste of you like this. And every taste after that. 
Because, the weather in Hell is a balmy 0 degrees Fahrenheit and you are his, now. 
“I—uh, I—“ Your eyes dart over to the poor soul opening the bathroom door in slow motion. 
You think you’ve found an out, gorgeous?
Toji is faster and bigger than you are. Gripping the handle of the open door, ushering you into his new lair. Still choking on the shock of him catching your admission, you look to your left and right before diving into the empty bathroom. 
“Toji I…” 
Your back hits the wall and eyes settle on your hands. Shifty and nervous. Toji palms himself at the sight of you caged in like this. 
He’s disgusting, he knows that. 
And normally, he would ask permission. Being a gentleman and all. 
But there’s something too alluring about the way you’re trembling right now. The obvious conflict written all over your face, and heaving chest…and tense thighs…
His cock can’t take another second. 
And apparently neither can you. 
Because the second his fingers cup the back of your neck and his breath grazes your mouth you crash into him. Slotting your puffy lips into his, taking him by surprise for a millisecond. 
“Oh, T-toji.” You whine into his mouth. Grasping at his shoulders that are far too wide, far too muscular for your dainty grip.
Fucking, christ. 
Hearing his name like that. 
The gorgeous, high-pitched, pathetic plea trails down his ears to his aching sex and jerks it. If his cargos were any lighter you would’ve seen the pre-pubescent mess he’s making in his pants right now. 
But they aren’t. And you don’t. 
You mewl at how Toji nips at your bottom lip. Sinking it underneath his teeth until its swells to his liking. Melting beneath his large grasp, currently riding the dizzying lines of your hips and ass. 
“You taste fucking good, baby.” Toji mumbles into your warm cavern. Licking along the warm, soft ridges. 
“Ah-T..god.” You pull away and dive into his neck. Attempting to hide your utterly fucked out daze, but he won’t let you. 
Toji palms your ass with a tenth of his strength. You yelp and jump into his arms. He takes advantage of the momentum and lifts you high on his waist. Temporarily forcing you to look down on him.
Glassy eyed. Kiss abused lips. Panting and heaving. Cupping his face like your hands were made to. 
And something tight clenches in Toji’s chest. It takes a moment for him to shake it off, but it existed.
He’ll revisit that later.
“You look good up there, babydoll.” He pants, before setting you down on the sink ledge. He catches your chin in his hand before you turn away. Rooting you in place. 
“I…Toji.” 
Moaning his name like you’re begging for him to start and stop all at once. 
Your eyes descend to his lips. Watching the smirk blossoming across his face. Distracted enough not to notice his free hand shove up your dress in one swift motion. 
Your thighs recognize his authority and melt wide open for him. He kisses your tiny whimpers while nestling between them. 
“Mmmgh g-god please.” 
“This why you were so bratty this mornin baby?” 
Toji’s index and long fingers stroke your soaked, clothed core. Thin lace panties plastered to your warm sex. You wind your hips into his fingers. Batting your eyelashes up at him as if he’s going to give you what you want so easily.
He hovers his lips over yours. Pulling away each time you lunge forward for a kiss. Pouty and frustrated, you dig your nails into his neck and grind along his stationary fingers. 
“T-Toji, please…I’m so..ahh.”
“Needy cunt just wanted some attention, mm?” 
His fingers slip past your opening, and you offer up a soprano moan that shatters to stardust. 
Hedonistic noises fill the spaces between both of your punched out gasps. You’re fucking tight. Gummy, slick walls clamp down around his knuckles when he curves up to pet your pleasure spot. 
The steel pipe between his legs throbs against his thigh. Demanding friction. But one hand is cupping your chin and the other is so pussy drunk an army couldn’t pry his fingers away. 
“T..I—I’m oh fuck I—“
Toji bites down on your bottom lip. And you clench around him. Gushing more of your sweet arousal into his palm. And he damn near laps it up with his greedy tongue. 
“Shhh baby,” he coos against your jaw. 
“Can’t have everyone hearing the Executive getting fucked open by some mechanic’s hands can you?” 
There is a delicious irony in you treating him like a punching bag no more than an hour ago and now bucking your hips on his fingers, chasing an ever elusive high.
Sandpaper lines Toji’s throat. 
He wants nothing more than to bounce you on his cock in this bathroom. Fill you up with his cum and send you to your meetings full of him. 
But you haven’t learned your lesson yet.
“What did I promise baby?” Toji strains in your ear. His hand migrates from your chin to your neck, while his fingers ‘pick up the pace a little.’
His pretty little powerhouse. 
You babble a chorus of nothing. Unable to breathe, unable to think. Only drip. And leak. And squelch around his digits. Toji tightens the grip around your pulse point. Lulling your mouth open.  
“Talk to me, princess. What did I promise you?” He probes again, stealing air from your lungs. 
Tha—y-you would…p—point A.” Barely audible syllables tumble out of you. Ascending in pitch. Your hips reflexively try to pull away from your threatened orgasm.
“Keep going, I’m listenin.” 
“Oh fuck T..Toji?! I-Im c-im gonna—”
“I know, baby.” He smears wet kisses along your jawline. “ I can hear how messy your precious little pussy is. But I didn’t give you permission to stop. Keep going.”
Your walls spasm at his command. Followed by an angelic pitiful little whine. You’re close. So close. 
“P-P-point A to—“
“Point B.” 
Toji finishes your sentence as you reach nirvana. Full body convulsions. He slots his arms around the small of your waist. And it fits like it was molded for him. Like you were sculpted for him.
And he, for you.
The mechanic burns his gaze into your skin. Riding each choppy wave of your ecstasy. Such tiny, sexy sounds. Staccato breaths fanning his lips, his chin, his neck when you try to hide from his scrutiny. 
You are a goddamn dream. 
And his future wife.
Toji guessed it when the macaroon balanced on your chin for a full 30 seconds before he swiped it away and you accused him of defamation of character. 
But now? 
Watching you saddle this stallion of an orgasm. Clawing at his back with all the desperation of a pretty little damsel in distress. 
Distress at just his fingers, alone. 
What intoxicating melody will he unlock when he laps up the honey straight from your core? How will you gasp and moan and squirm when he single-handedly re-shapes your cunt to accommodate his size? 
He has no clue. 
But Toji will spend forever figuring you out. And mastering you.
The back of your neck fits beautifully into his grasp as he coaxes you from hiding. Pupils blown out. Cheeks flushed and warm. Tendrils matted along your forehead. Before he can speak, you beat him to the punch.
Of course you do. 
“I’ve decided,” You pant. The baseline spice returning to your grin. 
“That you might just be obsessed with me, Toji.” 
Both of you share a hushed laugh. Exchanging cotton candy breaths. But then his lips accidentally brush yours and Toji can’t help but dive in for a kiss. Fucking the warm cavern of your mouth with his tongue. 
You pull away before he’s ready, with a look on your face that makes him feel like a God. 
“I might be.” Toji whispers, partially against his will. His lips find the corner of your mouth. Careful to avoid falling victim to your pout again.
“Let’s get you to the other point B, baby.” 
The car ride to your office could make anyone queasy. 
Constant banter back and forth. Full bodied laughs. You mindlessly stroking his forearm with those angelic fingers riling his cock up as if it just now discovered women. 
You let out a small sigh, with slightly dropped shoulders when your office building comes into view. Toji doesn’t know how to interpret it. But for him? Reality is coming too quickly.
“So,” You start once the both of you are out of the car. Pretty face tilting up and Toji’s dick strains against its confines.
“What do I owe you, Mr. Fushiguro?” 
The way you say his name.
It takes the will of God for Toji to bite back his original response.
“Nothin, doll.” He’s wearing the same, dumb, love-struck face Choso wears on a daily basis. Shockingly, Toji couldn’t care less. 
“The tires just needed air. Choso will drop it off in an hour.” 
He would do it himself. But the urge to park in an empty lot and abuse the fuck out of his cock until a shred of clarity re-settles in his mind is a tad bit overwhelming, sweetheart.
Then your mouth drops in an incredulous ‘Oh’ and all Toji can picture is ruining the back of your throat. How pretty you are going to be wretching around his girth. Gasping for air. Choking on his cum. 
“Toji. Fushiguro.” You like using his name, don’t you?
“You held me hostage for a whole morning for some air—“
Toji kisses the rest of your complaints off your tongue. And you whine. Slot open for him with no resistance. Because under all that irritation and sarcasm, buried within the Trojan Horse, lays your supple, delectable submission. 
And he will take every opportunity to taste it. 
“I had a great time on our first date, babydoll.” Toji rasps against your swollen lips. 
The raging erection is threatening to embarrass him. There’s not enough restraint in the world to be around you any longer. Toji nestles your voice in his back pocket. The two of you watch each other with wordless, taken aback smiles as he takes slow steps toward his sports car.
Before the mechanic sinks into the driver’s seat, he makes a promise.
“Can’t wait for our second date, Mrs. Fushiguro!”
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Text
Imagine helping Crocodile discover a new way to use his devil fruit
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Before the cross guild's morning meeting
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You: [watching Crocodile repeatedly thumbing the spark wheel of his sputtering lighter, attempting to light up a cigar] I have a question.
Crocodile: [cocks an eyebrow over at you for your audacity, lips still stubbornly clasped around the cigar]
You: Using your sand, how fast can you get your sand particles to move?
Crocodile: [uses his hand to show you he can move them faster than your eye can see]
Mihawk: [stops reading the newspaper to look up at you]
Buggy, the one who invited you: [looking nervously between you and Crocodile]
You: can you do that while compressing the particles?
Crocodile: [shrugs]
Mihawk: [mildly suspicious of you] Why?
You: [looks between the three men, to realize you might have fucked up, so you start back-pedaling] Oh, no, uh, I just figured if he compressed his sand while trying to circulate it rapidly, the friction would create enough kinetic energy to produce heat that was hot enough to light his cigar. I wasn't, like, meaning to offend.
Crocodile: [lifts his finger in front of him and tries what you just said, and gets it to glow red with heat]
Buggy: UHH?
Mihawk: ( = _ =)?
Crocodile: [lifts his cigar to the glowing whirl of sand pulls off the cigar, and chuckles, swirling smoke escaping his nostrils] Oh this will bring so many more possibilities to me.
Buggy: great, nice going jackass, now he's even more powerful.
You: You probably could use it to cook someone.
Crocodile: excuse me?
Mihawk: shut up, little bird, stop giving him ideas.
Crocodile: [Cages you against the couch with his arms and leans in close] Keep talking, I want to know what fucked up thing is floating around in that little head of yours.
You: [pulls away from him and averts your gaze]
Crocodile: [uses his hook to pull your chin towards him to make you look at him] Look at me when I'm talking to you.
Mihawk: [sighs loudly and leans back in his chair] Leave them alone, Crocodile.
Crocodile: [ignores them] tell me
You: if you have enough sand to encase someone, you could cook them alive.
Buggy: That's kind of scary, kid.
Mihawk: [runs his hand over his face] What the fuck.
Crocodile: [laughs and ruffles your hair after he processes your words] I like this kid, good job Buggy for finding this one.
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List of Up-and-coming works || Master list || Twitter| Kofi || Patreon
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1K notes · View notes
terrestrialnoob · 21 days
Text
Continuation from Part 1
Jazz took a deep breath. It's going to be fine. She can be normal for one night. Even if Harley is willing to befriend weirdos on a whim she doubted anyone else would. The shadow beneath her feed rolled like boiling tar and emotions that weren't hers poked at her mind.
"It's okay, Jet. They're not going to hurt me. I'm just... nervous."
She took another deep breath, she'd been told to ignore the closed sign, and entered the Coal Mine. She wasn't sure what she was expecting with a name like that, but it looked like a normal, if kinda rustic bar. It was empty except for a blonde woman in the back of the room, setting up a big table with food and drinks.
"Sorry, we're closed to the pub-" She started speaking before she looked up, stopping once she saw Jazz. "Oh! You must be Jazz, Harley's new friend.... You're early."
Jazz's face turned a little red but she stomped down her unease. "Yep! That's me. Early bird Jazz."
The blonde woman laughed wholeheartedly, but Jazz didn't think her joke was that funny. The woman walked over to her, "I'm Dinah, welcome to my bar. I don't often host girls night, but you got lucky."
Jazz shook her offered hand. "It's a nice place!" Though, Jazz didn't really go to bars. She didn't drink a lot and bars weren't really her scene.
"Feel free to grab a snack, grab a drink. I'm going to finish getting ready. Everyone else tends to be late. Which I guess means you're not early, you're here when we asked you."
"Oh, alright! I'll remember to be late next time." Why did she say that? That's so stupid and rude.... But Dinah laughed again. "Right, um, if it's okay, I did bring something." Jazz offered the plastic bag she decided to reuse with a tray of fudge she made inside it.
"Oh, that looks good. I'll go get a knife and plate to set it out with the other snacks."
Jazz more or less sat in awkward silence as Dinah did her thing getting ready. She wanted to offer to help, but this is Dinah's bar. If anyone else was there, Jazz wouldn't feel the need to help, and she didn't want to get in the way. But this was a private party, so maybe Jazz should offer to help. Just to carry stuff to the table or-
Then the door opened again and two women came through. One was in an expensive looking leather jacket and with short brown hair and the other had a cheap looking leather jacket with long brown hair. The short haired woman started talking before she was even all the way through the door. "Dinah, you would not believe how bad traffic is downtown today. An entire hour to get from 19th to- oh, hello."
Jazz jumped to her feet when the woman addressed her. "Hi, I'm Jazz."
"Selina." She said with a raised eyebrow.
"Harley invited her." The long haired woman said. "You really should read the texts."
"I don't want to set a precedent."
"Still." The long haired woman nodded towards Jazz. "Name's Helena."
"It's nice to meet you." Jazz said with a smile, but it started to slip at the sight of Selina.
Selina gave her a hard look, sizing her up, judging. "You're Harley's friend?"
Jazz rubbed the back of her neck nervously. "She's been to my apartment... and invited me here."
There was a beat of silence before Selina gave an amused huff and said, "You do seem like her type."
Dinah laughed again - maybe she was just easy to make laugh. The two walked over to the table and Selina's eyes immediately settled on the fudge. She opened her mouth to comment but the door opened again and Harley burst through, pulling someone behind her.
"We're here! I even got a special something for- Jazz! You're here already!" She turned to the woman behind her and quickly pushed something into her hands before rounding back to the rest in the room. "Heya Jazzy! I'm happy you could make it! This is my wife - Ivy."
Ivy stepped forward and eyed Jazz with more curiosity than the suspicion Selina had or Helena's indifference or Dinah's more welcoming demeanor. "It's nice to meet you. Harley told me about her little visit to your home. You look... normal."
Jazz knew her face was even redder than before. "Well, normal is the goal, right?"
There was a beat when the other's in the room just seemed to stare at her. Harley barked out her own harsh laughter, "Not here it ain't!"
"O-oh..." Jazz didn't have a frame of reference for this. If normal wasn't what they wanted, then what did they want? Eccentric scientist like her parents? Harley was a vigilante, maybe that's what she should emulate?
"Don't worry." Ivy said as she passed Jazz to sit at the table, a potted plant on a nearby windowsill suddenly, and far too quickly, bloomed. "From what I've heard, I'm sure you'll fit in."
"Harley said that too. I'm just worried. I've never had my own friends before." Oh, shit, she shouldn't have said that. Only weirdos don't have friends.
"Same." Ivy said and picked up a piece of Jazz's fudge.
"Here too." Helena added, and gave the piece of fudge she'd been holding for a while a curious look. It must be unusual for everyone to react this way.
"IS THAT FUDGE? I love fudge!" Harley said and grabbed a handful to stuff in her mouth. "This is so good! Where'd it come from?"
"Oh. I made it. Didn't want to come empty handed, you know." Jazz said, joining the other's at the table and taking her own piece before Harley ate it all. "It's my mom's recipe, but it doesn't quite taste the same without the low-level radiation."
"Oh, you have to put the radiation in it next time!"
"Do not do that." Three other women at the table said in almost unison. Oddly enough, it was Helena who didn't join in.
"Why was there radiation in your mother's fudge?" Selina asked as Dinah started to deal out cards.
"My parents are kinda mad scientists - kinda also mad occultists. All the food in the house was contaminated, and part of the reason my brother and I are vegetarian." Jack and three.
Dinah seemed to loose her breath before wheezing out, "Even more the same."
"What?"
"I'm also a vegetarian, mainly because of the environmental nightmare farming is." Ivy supplied, she bet conservatively.
"Right, that's why my brother's friend is vegan."
"Wait, how does the contamination equate to being vegetarian?" Helena asked - getting excited as Dinah reveals the flop, a good hand then. "Did it make meat taste bad or...?
"Oh, it brought it to life." Jazz said as she traded a card. "I can't tell you how many reanimated headless turkeys and chickens I had to kill. Not to mention the hotdogs Dad trained to attack intruders, they also attacked friends and visitors too. That was too much, even for Spike."
"Holy shit, that's amazing." Harley said while Ivy and Selina looked horrified, Dinah was as entertained as Harley, and Helena was enjoying herself. "Can't say I've ever fought reanimated deli meats."
"Bruce has." Selina commented, and directed at Jazz, "My long-term boyfriend. Thought about marrying him for a little while, but it didn't really suit either of our lifestyles."
No animosity, only relief. Jazz smiled at her, "Different people have different needs. Not everyone needs to be married with children."
Dinah laughed, "And boy, does Bruce have children! How many does he have now? Six? Seven? I thought I read on the news he's got a new one."
"Technically yes, but he's just fostering Duke, not adopting. Once his parents are well again, he'll want to go home." Selina saw Jazz's curious face, but deflected to lighter gossip. "I'm not the motherly type, not that I'd be cruel to any kids I could possibly have especially if they're Bruce's-" She sighed "-but Bruce lives for his kids. He has four adopted children, one biological child from another woman - it's fine, we both have our fun - and two foster children.... I think."
"You're not sure?" Helena questioned. Dinah put out another card.
"I think Steph is a foster, but I never saw the paperwork for it. At the very least, she's living in his house." Selina said, then stared at Ivy. "Not getting lucky, dear?"
Ivy sneered and put her cards down. "I don't even know why I agree to this game."
"Is it the one game all night, or do you do other stuff?" Jazz asked. She's good at poker. Between her enhanced empathy and psychology degree, she was rarely fooled.
"Depends on the place. Dinah likes poker, so we play it when she hosts." Helena said, she looked at Jazz, then Harley and folded her cards. "And we quit when Harley wins all our money and play something else."
"That's right baby!" Harley cheered and slammed her cards face up on the table, "No one beats the Harley!"
Jazz and Selina put their cards down too, face up.
"I guess there are exceptions..." Harley said with a mischievous grin.
Selina grinned too, "Someone has to loose all of Bruce's money."
Jazz grinned as the pot was pushed her direction. "Well, then let me know when it gets boring of just me and Harley playing."
The entire table laughed. Yeah, Jazz was starting to feel like she really would fit in here.
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peachesofteal · 11 months
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pls let Simon hold that baby 🥺
Light on - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader 18+ mdni / mild suggestive content, mention of spanking - could be considered mildly dark and twisty
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"Oh, you came!"
What? Yes, he came. You invited him, didn't you? Wasn't that... did he get this wrong? "Er, yeah... I thought you said-"
"I did, I did. Come in." You step to the side, allowing him entry into the hallway where the smell of something incredible lingers, pulling at the pockets of his cheeks. You can cook. Judging by the scent of roast chicken and herbs that fill the room, he knows immediately that you're better than the 'subpar' dinner you mentioned yesterday. "You just ah, seemed unsure. I didn't want to assume." His hand pats his pocket instinctively, seeking the mask, trying to fight the urge to pull it over his face, pleasantly surprised you don't seem off put by his face, or the fact that it's the first time you've seen him without it.
"I had some things going on today, wasn't sure about my schedule until a few hours ago." Lie. It's a lie, a bold faced one. He knew he'd be here from the moment you had rushed out the invite, offering to cook him dinner as he dwarfed you inside your cozy apartment, dead smoke detector batteries in his hand.
"Well, thank you for coming. And thanks for all your help yesterday. I couldn't figure that stupid thing out to save my life." You laugh, teeth exposed, easy and carefree. A shiver ricochets down his spine. Why you let him inside your flat the first time, he'll never understand. Maybe one day, he'll reprimand you for it. Chide you for letting a stranger inside your home, remind you to be more cautious. He would explain why you need to more careful, more observant of your surroundings, as his thumb rubbed away the fat tears falling over your cheeks, the result of him taking his palm to your ass a dozen times for the slip up. Can't be makin' mistakes like that, love. Not with it just being you and the baby when I'm not here- he'd tell you, make you promise not to do it again, soothing your tears with cool cream against your skin and gentle, but firm, reassurance.
You just need someone to take care of you, that's all. Teach you.
Emmaline makes a noise, a half babble, half cry, and it breaks him from his reckless daydream, bringing him back to reality in a matter of seconds. What is he thinking? You're his neighbor. He doesn't even know you.
"Thanks for inviting me." You're bent at the waist, hands pulling a roasting rack from the oven, perfectly cooked bird sitting on a bed of potatoes and carrots, and his stomach rumbles almost loud enough for you to hear.
"I owe you. That beeping would've kept little miss here up for hours." You jerk your head in Emmaline's direction, where she's fixated on you, mouth hanging half open. "Needs a few more minutes." You mumble to yourself, and then turn around again. "Do you want a drink? I've got some lagers, and a bottle of wine somewhere." Your fingers knot together, words on the tip of your tongue hopeful, almost... nervous, and you give him another smile, albeit this one is less confident.
"A lager would be good." He tries to settle you by being agreeable, and you produce two from the fridge, your fingers brushing against his when you hand one to him, skin warm and so, so soft, the kind of soft he's rarely felt, the kind that feels like silk against sandpaper. Yours against his.
"So, you said you travel for-" Your question is interrupted by a shriek, a demanding cry from Emmaline, her little fists waving in the air at you, like she's indignant about the redirection of your attention. You pick her up, yellow jumper bright against your red apron, and you shoot him an apologetic grimace. "I'm sorry, I was hoping she'd be down by now but, she's just been so fussy lately." You bounce her back and forth, cries quieting until she's just blinking at you with wet eyes, and the timer on the oven goes off. "Shit. Ah..." You look at her, and then look at the oven. "Can you, would you mind?" You extend your arms, Emma inside them, and he puts every piece of his training to use trying to control his reaction.
His heart soars.
His brain panics.
"Yeah, okay." He says, and you dip forward, pushing her into his arms. He knows how to hold a baby, held Joseph plenty, and she seems to agree, settling in against his chest, hands grabbing at his sweatshirt, tugging and trying to eat the fabric. She's light, lighter than he expected, but still sturdy, and when her lips shift into a gummy smile as she makes eye contact with him, he feels everything logical inside him shutting down.
Beautiful baby girl, and her perfect, sweet, angel of a mum.
He'll be keeping you.
He'll be keeping you both.
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insertdisc5 · 1 year
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i saw you use cohost. would you recommend is as a good/active twitter alternative? im getting tired of the hell hole that this bird website is
i really love cohost and the community there but it is absolutely NOT a twitter alternative. if anything it's a tumblr alternative.
here's my small speech about cohost and why i like it
it's a mix between tumblr and livejournal which is fun
the community is very fun and active! when i made my intro post i had a dozen people leaving a comment welcoming me to cohost which is a very nice feeling
it is very much NOT about likes and follower counts. in fact, there is no way for anyone to know how many likes a post has, or how many followers someone has. YOU dont even know how many followers you have
the only visible number is the number of comments on a post, which is where the community comes from: if you want people to know a post is great, you gotta leave a comment saying so!!!
you can have as many links as you want on your profile, AND you can have links be only visible to logged in users, only to people following you, or only visible to pages you follow... so it's a great way to have your discord only be visible to certain people for example
if you DO want a more twitter-like experience, there is a tag that's The Global Cohost Feed, so you have a bunch of posts from a lot of people
when you first join you will have a few days where you can't post anything, but you can still look at posts and share them. a lot of it must be so cohost can prepare code to bring you in or whatever, BUT it also means you get those couple of days to get to know the culture of the website a bit more! it's lovely
chronological feed my beloved
no algorithm my beloved
cohost does have some issues (adding images is a PAIN), but the staff is working really hard to fix them and is always listening to people's feedback! i like cohost a lot. join me
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gay-dorito-dust · 5 months
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Hey um if it's cool could I request, Welt, Dan Heng, Jing Yuan, Gallager and Aventurine reacting to reader to questioning their interest in them?
An example: The confession
Them: I have feelings for you Reader: ... Um *shocked*.. I feel the same but.. *trails off* Them: but? Reader: *squints* you sure? About me? Please reconsider your choice. Them: ...
thank you if you decide to do this! No pressure though!
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Jing yuan would raise a brow before vaguely asking you to come with him somewhere he had been meaning to show you for a while and thought that now was the perfect time.
The place where he takes you was just like any other flower garden you’ve been to before but from the way the light glinted off of the waters surface, to the way the flowers blossomed in a variety of unique colours, and other small things like that made the flower garden look ethereal.
Jing yuan chuckled at your expression.
‘You see why I brought you here?’ He asks.
‘…no, not really, why?’ You replied, looking at him in confusion.
‘I’m trying to show you that while you may not think yourself as anything special, much like this flower garden, there are a multitude of unique things tailored to you that make you shine in the eyes of the ones who views you highly.’ He responded as he lends his hand out for a bird to perch on and softly smiled as it moved up to his shoulder where it sat comfortably, trying its hardest not to fall asleep.
‘For every flower is a beauty to behold regardless of their shapes, their size or their colour that even a daffodil can be considered of equal beauty of a roses in someone’s eyes.’ Jing Yuan continues, looking at you from the corner of his eye to see whether his words were sinking in. ‘And my flower believes themself to be a withering daffodil but to me, they’re a rose unlike any other. Stubborn, strong willed, but.��
‘But?’ You echoed, nervousness creeping through your veins as Jing Yuan moved in front of you and leant forward so that he was right next to your ear.
‘But they refuse to accept words of their worth and beauty from someone who cares about them very much, but I hope to change that soon enough, if they let me.’ He whispers as he presses a kiss to your cheek and pulling away to plant a kiss to your forehead.
Dan heng
While he’s happy that you felt the same way towards him, but felt his heart sink when you told him to reconsider his feelings for you.
‘If you are not ready for a relationship, then I understand, but I wish that you wouldn’t look down upon yourself when you’re anything but what your mind is telling you that you are.’ He says as he holds your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks as his eyes shone with concern. ‘Just know that I’ll always be by your side to resolve any issue you may have, for I do not wish for you to be burdened by this alone when I can help lessen it’s impact on you.’ He adds.
Dan Heng would do anything and everything in his power to make you see just how much you meant to him, even if it meant asking March to pull up pictures where his infatuation with you was glaringly obvious.
He would bring you poetry books and read out verses that perfectly describe his innermost thoughts and feelings towards you and how he views you on a daily basis. Dan Heng feels as though he could never convey just how truly unique and magnificent you were on his own. He’s tried but compared to the works of acclaimed poets, it just lacked fluidity in terms of the flow of words.
Everything else fades away when you entered his peripheral vision, almost as though he was made to notice your presence no matter where you were, only to just stare at you with a look that could only be akin to someone who had just found their other half after so long.
Welt would sit you down somewhere and want to talk about it because he truly didn’t think that these were your own words coming from your mouth.
He believes they were someone else’s and he hated that you had started believing this person’s words as reality, when they were the furthest thing from the truth in his eyes.
He wants to help you unlearn what everybody else has thought of you in the past because it doesn’t matter, their words hold no weight until you allow it to. No one’s perception of you was in any way shape or form a reflection of the real you, for every person you’ve ever had a positive effect on posses a different perceptions of you.
The only person who knew the real you was you but it was obvious to Welt that you might’ve forgotten who that version of you was by worrying yourself to death about the thoughts and opinions of everyone else. So Welt was more then happy to help you see that you were so much more then what you think.
He doesn’t know who wronged you in the past but they’ve left everlasting damage on your tender soul, but he was going to do everything he could in his power to show you the you that he sees every time upon seeing you.
Gallagher
‘I’ve got nothing to reconsider when it comes to you sweetheart.’ Gallagher was quick to tell you as he grabbed one of your hands, squeezing it. ‘Nothing at all.’
‘But-‘ you started.
‘No ifs, ands or buts.’ He interrupts you. ‘You’re prefect the way you are and I won’t hear otherwise because I’ll always go out of my way to remind you as to why i care about you, okay?’ He says as he lifted your hand to press a kiss to the back of it. ‘Just let me take care of you and get rid of those pesky thoughts residing in your head by telling them to fuck off.’
You couldn’t help but chuckle at this as you allowed yourself to find comfort in Gallagher’s side as you were greeted by his bodily warmth that made you into melting further against him. ‘I just don’t want to be a bother to you that’s all.’ You murmured, insecurity making your throat tightened, rendering it hard to swallow.
Gallagher felt his heart break for you as he brought his arms to your waist to rub soothing patterns into your side as he presses his face to the side of your head, pressed reassuring kisses there as he whispered sweet nothings as to why you were perfect, beautiful, sweet and caring of all whom you come across, whether they were deserving of it or not.
Aventurine
He understands more then you knew because the moment you admitted to liking him in the same breath as berating yourself, he was about to ask what was it about him that you liked exactly.
You were both in the same boat that was about to capsize from your shared self hatred for yourselves, but Aventurine would be damned if he let you think of yourself in any negative light when you’ve been nothing but a beacon of pure, genuine light for him since first introductions.
He’d much rather be the one drowning in self doubt than you.
He’d have you stand in front of a mirror and asks what you see.
‘Someone who’s lost themselves along the way,’ you answered solemnly, ‘someone who’s lost sight of who they once were because they were too caught up in the opinions of others and waiting on them hand and foot, only to revive nothing but scraps.’ You added and Aventurine couldn’t help but feel himself becoming infuriated, not at you but at the people who have made you feel as though you were lesser than, who made you feel as though you should be outcasted because you didn’t fit into their narrative.
However the sound of your sniffling brought him out of his need to get back at these people for you and saw that you were beginning to tear up and was quick to wipe them away before they fell. ‘Don’t weep for people who don’t have a heart, for they’ll always think themselves superior by materialistic means that they will inevitably loose to time and bad decisions.’ He tells you as he rests his head on your shoulder, looking at you through the mirrors reflective surface. ‘You on the other hand have something that they could never hope to obtain via money.’ He adds.
‘And what’s that?’ You asked, looking into his eyes and noting that despite their dullness, they were still the most beautiful and expressive pair of eyes you have ever seen.
‘Empathy, humility, compassion, kindness and an appreciation for the simple things that many overlook and possess the ability to see the beauty in broken things.’ Aventurine replies, his voice becoming soft towards the end, clearly referring to himself, as he held onto you tighter as though you’d slip from his grasp much like everyone else had. ‘So don’t compare yourself to others who should be looking towards you as an example instead.’
You moved your head to properly look at him, not use to seeing this side of him, so serious and determined to make you see reason. ‘You really mean that?’
Aventurine smiles as he kisses you on the nose, chuckling. ‘Of course! You’re my good luck charm, I’d be hopeless and in a whole lot of trouble without you.’ He says as he presses another kiss to your nose, adoring your expression as you scrunched up your face, muttering under his breath. ‘Cute.’
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