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#like it hurts that i can be more vulnerable with someone who is almost a complete stranger to me
maxtermind · 3 days
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“your opinion of me won't change, right?” + lando (who kinda has a fuckboy reputation but fell for the reader)
“your opinion of me won't change, right?”
( event masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ★:summary:: the one where a fuckboy gets turned into a loverboy? ★:feat:: lando norris x reader ★:genre:: hurt/comfort
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the knock on your door comes around midnight when you're almost going to bed. you don’t expect anyone, especially not him.
for a second, you stand still, unsure of what to do with heart thudding. but the persistent rapping doesn’t stop, and despite the days of silence between you two, you already know who it is.
when you swing the door open, lando stumbles in, his shoulders slumped, eyes clouded with alcohol and something darker. his hair is a mess, damp from the rain, and he reeks of whiskey and regret.
“y/n,” he breathes out, almost as if he’s relieved to see you. but you’re not relieved at all. you’re angry, confused, and hurt and looking at him really hit you so hard that you had to squeeze the ends of your his t-shirt to not stumble.
you close the door behind him, and he sways unsteadily. he’s drunk—drunker than you’ve ever seen him. his clothes are disheveled, his usual cool confidence replaced by something pitiful, something raw.
"lando, what the hell are you doing here?" your voice is sharp, meant to sting, because his presence alone already rips at the wounds that haven't even started healing yet.
he doesn’t answer right away. instead, he looks at you with those familiar blue eyes, the same ones that once made you weak in the knees, but now… they just bring back the pain. his lips tremble as if he’s about to say something, but he doesn’t.
"you—" lando slurs slightly, stepping forward, hands outstretched. "you weren't… supposed to leave. you—" it washed over you like a bucket of cold water and you're already moving away from his touch.
"don't." your voice cracks, and you hate how fragile you sound. you take another step back, putting more space between you two. "don’t come here like this again."
lando rubs his face, pacing around your small living room slowly, stumbling over air. he’s spiraling, trying to collect his thoughts, but the alcohol muddles his brain and you can see the struggle on his face.
“i didn’t mean to… i didn’t want you to leave,” he mutters. he turns to you, desperation in his eyes. "i messed up, okay? i know that. but i… fuck, i’m trying, y/n."
you cross your arms, every muscle tense. "trying? you’re drunk, lando. that’s not trying."
his face crumples at your words, and he stumbles back, this time collapsing onto the couch like his legs can’t hold him up anymore. his hands run through his hair, pulling at it in frustration, in agony.
you vividly remember what happened a few nights ago when a girl texted him asking if he was up for 'another' great night. it wasn't easy being with someone while knowing he could have anyone in the entire world and with his past, you were already always on the edge of letting your insecurities out.
it just led to a bigger argument where instead of assuring you how you were the only one he ever wanted, he asked you to either start trusting him or leave.
so you left.
"do you know how much i fucking hate myself?" his voice is hoarse now, barely above a whisper, but the rawness in it cuts through you like a knife as it brings you back to the present. "i tried to be better for you. i… i tried."
you swallow the lump forming in your throat, trying to stay firm, but it’s hard. it's always been hard with him. "you have a funny way of showing it."
he lifts his head slowly, tears brimming in his eyes now, and the sight is enough to make your resolve crack just a little. you've never seen him cry before. not like this.
“your opinion of me won’t change, right?” his voice breaks, and you freeze. the vulnerability in his question sends a jolt of pain straight to your chest. he sounds small, defeated, like the weight of everything he’s been carrying has finally crushed him.
“lando…” you whisper, but he doesn’t let you finish.
"because everyone else—" he pauses, taking in a shaky breath. "they all think they know me? that i’m just some… some asshole who doesn’t care, who’s not capable of… anything real? but i’m not. i’m not, y/n. you know that, right?"
the room feels heavy, like the air is thickening with every word. you want to say something, to tell him that you believed in him once, that you saw the good in him, the real lando, but it’s not that simple anymore.
"i fell for you," he says, voice trembling, eyes glistening as he stares up at you like you're the only thing that can save him. with the rapid blinking of his eyes, tears start to fall and so does your resolve. "i wish i didn’t put you through this, but i did. and i didn’t know how to be that guy… the one you deserved. but i tried. i’m still trying."
it’s quiet for a moment, just the sound of his ragged breathing and your heartbeat pounding in your ears.
you look at him, really look at him. his face is flushed from the alcohol and the tears, but beneath that, you see something more. he’s broken in ways you never let yourself see before.
all the cockiness, the bravado, the charm—it was all just a shield. he never thought he was good enough for you either, and maybe that’s why you left. you repeat it to yourself but it was a losing war.
the old lando wouldn’t be here, in front of you, crying and baring his soul. he wouldn’t have admitted any of this. isn't that reason enough to give him another chance?
he was selfish before, reckless, hiding behind his reputation as the playboy, the fun guy who never cared too deeply about anything. but now, now you see the cracks. you see the vulnerability he’s tried so hard to bury and it kills you to give in but the words leave you before you can stop yourself.
"i thought you didn’t care," you admit softly, feeling all your defenses start to crumble. "that’s why i left, lando. i didn’t think you could care."
"i fucking love you," he lets out a bitter laugh, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. not believing what you were saying at all. "i care too fucking much. i just… maybe i don’t know how to show it right."
you sigh, sitting down beside him on the couch, still keeping a little distance between you. "it’s not about showing it right. it’s about showing it at all."
he looks at you, his gaze softer now, more open. "i’m sorry. i know i’ve been… i know i fucked up. but i’m… i love you, y/n. i really fucking love you. and i didn’t know how much until you weren’t there."
his words hang in the air, and for the first time in weeks, you don’t feel anger or hurt. you just feel… sad. sad for him, sad for you, sad for all the misunderstandings that led you here.
you reach out, gently brushing a lock of his hair from his forehead. he closes his eyes at the touch, leaning into it like he’s starved for your touch. he probably is because so are you.
"i’ve changed," he murmurs, his voice thick with exhaustion. "i swear loving you has changed me."
you don’t respond right away. instead, you lean forward and press a soft, lingering kiss to his forehead. his skin is warm beneath your lips, and the simple gesture feels more intimate than anything you’ve ever shared before.
when you pull back, lando looks at you through heavy-lidded eyes, his emotions raw and exposed. "i love you too," he mumbles, his voice barely audible, like he’s falling asleep or slipping into a dream where things are better, where you’re together again.
you don’t know what’s going to happen next, or if you can really fix what’s broken between you. but for the first time in a long while, you feel like maybe… just maybe, you can try.
and maybe this time, it’ll be different.
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©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.
★:a/n:: thanks for the request love! feedback and reblogs are appreciated :3
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ragnarokhound · 2 days
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hey sweetie how are you. I made banana bread for breakfast tomorrow but DON’T touch it till then, it won’t be as good
there’s a post going around about the dynamic of a guard dog character, a lamb, and a wolf (one wants to possess and protect the lamb, one wants to devour it). How do you think jaytimkon fits in this?
ps… 10 things i hate about you? thoughts?
hey sweetie, i'm pretty good uwu had a nice day yesterday walking around my neighborhood with a friend! <3 And ough herrghh mrregghh gragghhhh (<- actively holding myself back from tearing into the banana bread immediately, i'll be strong for you bb but know that you are testing my limits in new and exciting ways)
Putting my responses to both (!! >:0) the jaytimkon and 10 Things ideas under a cut because *deep sigh* it got long lol
BRUH. BRUHHHHHHH. You cannot simply say this to me. You Cannot. Simply. SAY THIS TO ME, YOU'RE NOT SLICK
Once again testing my limits in new and exciting ways because I have a different WIP deadline fast approaching so I simply cannot write more for my actively inspired by guard dog x lamb x wolf jaytimkon WIP to SHOW YOU, in DETAIL, EXACTLY how i think jaytimkon fits into this, BUT
My feelings on this are many, and partially answered in these asks already. But I'll reiterate that they are all three facets simultaneously, baby. Depending on who's talking, they think of themselves as this, that, or the other; the loving, vigilant protector - the helpless, vulnerable bleeding heart - the hungry, slinking interloper. The story I have been brooding over for almost a year now (egads) WILL feature a somewhat slowburn where each of them takes turns realizing which one they are and slowly changing their minds as the narrative progresses and their relationship heats up 🔥w🔥BUT BE PATIENT BECAUSE I SURE HAVE TO BE (*whining and whimpering i crave this banana bread)
P.S. I love the taming of the shrew, and it's absolutely perfect jaytim material are you KIDDING. Cramming two different concepts into one ask. Evil. Diabolical. I love my wife.
10 Things I Hate About You is such a fun movie, and I could honestly see the role of Kate being played equally well by either Tim or Jason lol, and in a somewhat reverse robins style, Dick taking on the role of Bianca. Wally or Kori or [Your Choice Here] in the role of Cameron, wanting to date him. In fact, ohhhh OHHHH okay. Okay bear with me while i cook--
Consider Oldest Child Dick Grayson-Wayne who is super popular, super well loved, everyone wants to date him - but he always begs off because he doesn't want his younger brother, Jason, to be left in the lurch. Standoffish, bookish, i-heard-he-did-time, 'whats it to you' Jason, who has maybe two friends but they go to a different school so he doesn't have anyone to sit with at lunch besides his charming older brother. Dick's party line is, "If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my bro. Good luck! :)" (Something something, Dick and Jason are both adopted, something something Dick doesn't actually wanna date anyone, send tweet)
NOW. Fast forward to when Dick meets someone he might actually want to date. But to keep the ravenous hordes away from him, he still, regretfully, must stick to his guns. Jason needs to be dating/friends with/hanging out with/etc someone else before he and this person (again, Your Dickship of Choice Here) can boogie down.
Cue Dick nudging Jason out of the blue to strike out on his own and Jason getting squinty-eyed suspicious (and secretly a little hurt) that Dick apparently sees him as some kind of burden to be offloaded or whatever. Thanks bro. :(
Thus, Dick and his prospective SO hatch a Scheme. A Scheme to see Jason Woo'd in such a way to keep the heat off Dick from both the collective horny student body AND his sensitive younger brother. Enter Tim Drake.
Tim transferred this year and people have been speculating like crazy about him. His grades are insane so people think he'll be a nerd, but he skateboards to school so people think he'll be a stoner, but he's crazy athletic so people think he'll be trying out for the swim team or something - but mostly? People don't know shit. He's friendly enough, but stays apart. An enigma. Cuts school at least twice a week, hasn't seemed to pick any one crowd with which to integrate, is unaffiliated with any one piece of the greater student body. The most anyone can really tell is that he's just a little unhinged and strapped for cash. He'll pull some crazy stunts - if you've got the money.
Which makes him perfect.
Cue Shakespearean shenanigans leading to Some Asshole (your choice of Dick notp here) offering to pay Tim if he dates Jason Todd-Wayne. Tim thinks it's kinda stupid and an asshole move at first, but apparently the money is too good for him to pass up. So he bites.
Tim stalkers his way into interacting with Jason (something something Jason shoving Tim against the wall outside a 7-11 after school and snarling in his face, "i know you're following me. the fuck do you want" and Tim smirking at him, "to ask you out." Jason blinking, then dropping him like he's been burned. "Bullshit." Tim shrugging and running to catch up, falling into step beside him. "It's the truth." Huge Jason side-eye.) and events spiral from there.
(Vulnerable conversations. Jason: People look at me like I'm trash. Like I'm one bad day away from snapping and proving that they were right not to trust me all along. Like I don't have feelings that matter. I like that you're not scared of me. I like that you seem to fuckin'... like me. Or whatever. But I don't know how to trust it. Tim: People only want me around when they think they can get something out of me. They don't like me just what I can do for them. You've never made me feel like that. You don't give a shit about what I can do. It makes me want to-- it makes me want to give you things. To do things for you. I dunno. I guess I'm just waiting for you to tell me to fuck off and finally mean it.)
The reveals go badly. Hurt and betrayal on every side. (Turns out Tim needed the money because his mom's dead, dad's in a coma, and the family company that was supposed to keep Tim afloat has gone belly up. All of his parents' money is tied up in trusts and behind red tape. He's on his own.) Jason is pissed at Tim, but pissed at Dick especially.
The brothers fight. It's a doozy. Dick apologizes for going over Jason's head and manipulating things. Jason apologizes for being an asshole and making Dick feel like he has to be the responsible golden child 24/7, and also for punching Dick in the face. They promise to do better. Then Jason tracks Tim down to his shitty apartment (Tim had seemed super nervous the one time Jason had tried to come home with him, and now he thinks he knows why) and bangs on his door. He hasn't been to school in over a week.
They fight. It's great.
("What you did was shitty." "Yeah." "I don't forgive you for it." "...yeah." "So you better start thinking about how you're gonna fuckin' make it up to me." "Y-yeah?" "Yeah. Like fuck I'm missing prom this year when I finally have a fuckin' boyfriend.") (Now kiss)
[don't ask me how old they are/what grades they're in. i simply do not want to contemplate it. i'd call this a college au for my own sanity, but the very premise and interest in social hierarchies is just so inherently high school that it would fall apart lmfao]
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newvegascowboy · 1 year
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sometimes the post dnd hang sesh leads to you sobbing on a discord call about the nature of coming out to people and theres nothing you can fucking do about it ig
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chuluoyi · 2 months
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✎ all of me
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- gojo satoru x reader
you understand that some things in marriage just needs compromise. and he soon understands too, when you're at your most vulnerable and he fails to be by your side when you need him the most
genre: angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship (you're married & have a son!) argument, feral gojo, mentions of injury & blood, fluff
note: if it isn't obvious by now i'm in the mood of angst-hurt/comfort this week HEHE :)) this is longer than the usual love entry, so i hope you'll enjoy it!
a part of gojo's love entries
general masterlist
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Bantering with your husband is not uncommon―in fact, it happens on daily basis.
"Satoru― I'm talking to you!"
But having serious arguments with him is another matter entirely.
Your fists tightening at your sides, facing his unamused expression. How insufferable is he? You told him that everyday, but right now, he's truly surpassed previous levels of infuriating behavior.
"And I can hear you, sweetheart," he retorted, casting a glance your way. The term of endearment he used for you sounding almost like a sneer to your ears and you felt offended.
"I don't think you're taking this seriously," you griped, trying to calm your emotions, still balling your hands. "Someone is following our son on his way back from school―how can you be this... flippant?!"
Numerous photograph of your son exiting the school building from different angles had arrived in your mailbox, and if it wasn't a creepy warning from those who placed a target on his back, then you didn't know what it was.
Satoru let out an exasperated grunt. "I'm telling you, I'll pick him up for the rest of the week. No one will lay a hand on him."
You gritted your teeth. "And I'm telling you, they're trying to make you do just that. Even morons know not to mess with you― they're leaving hints, and you're taking the bait!"
Contrary to what you believed, Satoru felt just as worried as you upon knowing that someone might have marked his precious son, who was now six years old and had recently started attending preschool.
But this is where your approaches differ. You are always the cautious one, overanalyzing each detail, while he leans towards being impulsive, often resorting to brute force.
"Who do you think can stand a chance against me?" Satoru challenged with a real sneer this time. "Remember my words, wife, no one is going to hurt me, you or our baby. I'll end them where they stand."
"That's not the point!" you threw your hands in the air, irate. "Satoru, they're going to take advantage of―"
"Look, I don't want to argue with you." Satoru's gaze was hard on you, his tone clipped, and it made you stiffen. "His safety comes first— and you, of all people, should know I'd never let anything happen to him. You need to quit nitpicking and have a little faith in me."
"I know you are more than capable, but you are not―!"
And then he said it, and his words piercing through you like a knife―
"Don't compare me to you," your husband remarked a little too coldly. "I can do things you can't. Just rest your pretty head, I'll take care of the rest."
Nevermind that he blatantly dismissed your skills as a jujutsu sorcerer, nevermind that he totally didn't listen to you at all―he just went and made himself look like some sort unparalleled god, forgetting how much his hubris could actually take him.
And all these thoughts only made you angrier.
"So be it then." You tried desperately to hold yourself from shaking because you'd be damned if you showed it to him. "A word of advice, Satoru: beware of your arrogance."
With those words, you spun around, marching off toward your son's room, because no way in hell was you going to sleep with that obnoxious prick tonight.
But when you caught the sight of your baby scuttling away from the gap in the door, a fragment of your heart crumbled. Oh. He has seen it all.
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In Gojo Satoru's mind, he is made of two things: a powerful jujutsu sorcerer and a family man.
With his immense strength, comes a certain responsibility. And with that responsibility, certain habits have formed. If you just took a few seconds to breathe and looked back throughout the past decade he'd spent with you, you'd know that in fact―
It was also his way to shield you. Satoru stands by the principle that you and his little boy must be protected at all cost, and he most certainly would pull all stops to do just that.
But frankly, he couldn't deny that he felt insulted by how defiant you were. Did you really think he would let anyone ever touch your―his―son? He wouldn't, they'd meet his wrath first and you should've known that.
Still, something akin to guilt nudged at his conscience as he lay alone in your shared bed that night. It felt strange not having you cuddling him. He felt empty.
. . .
None of your shampoo-scented pillow, none of your nightdresses, all of it replaced by a single photo hanging in the wall and the urn of ashes—
Abruptly, he jerked his eyes open, shaken from the most dreadful nightmare he had experienced—
Of you no longer by his side.
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“Mama.” Your little boy looked up to you with his doe-blue eyes in the next day, his hand gripping yours. “I’ll be fine.”
You were accompanying him to the preschool. While Satoru had requested Ichiji to drive him, you insisted on tagging along to keep a watchful eye as well. You'd leave your husband to pick him up later just as he wanted.
“Huh?” you turned to him, tilting your head.
“I'll stick by Uncle Ichiji's side the entire time,” he replied in a murmur. “And papa will be picking me up too later. If there are bad guys, they'll get him first.”
You bit your lip, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you. Your boy witnessed your outburst last night and hadn't inquired about it until now, and even then, he was trying to reassure you.
“So… don’t fight.” His round, cerulean eyes then darted towards you, blinking hesitantly, causing you to catch your breath.
He looks so much like Satoru. At six years old, he was the spitting image of him, except his personality—he took after you in that area. It was as if your son was a softer, more innocent version of him. And your heart twisted, remembering your argument last night.
Don't compare me to you.
With a sigh, you bent down to be eye-level with him and managed a smile, holding both of his little hands. “I’m sorry… it was just misunderstanding last night, okay? Don’t worry.”
“…really?”
“Really. Mama and papa were just tired,” you tried to reason, a thin smile on your face. "It's going to be okay, just like you said, yeah? Papa will beat the bad guys out there."
“Will he pull through...? If they bring a knife, and he's just there laughing, they can cut him.”
A giggle escaped your lips at your baby's innocent wonderings, easing the ache in your heart as you recalled how Satoru humored him in so many ways.
You gently poked your son in the cheek. "Nah, do you remember what he always goes on about?"
He puffed up his cheeks in response, his expression turning sour as if combing through memories of hundreds of shenanigans Satoru had instigated to recall his words. You let out a hearty chuckle, finding him so adorable.
"He's strong, he's going to win. He always does."
"Oh. Mmm." Your son scrunched up his nose cutely, before looking away and squeezing your hand. A sincerer smile bloomed in your lips, heart melting at the sight of your growing munchkin.
You will protect him. And maybe you could patch things up with Satoru later that night. Maybe yesterday you were just too paranoid.
That was the plan... at least until your son suddenly screamed—someone wrenching him from your grasp. Without a second thought, you reacted, flipping the attacker away from you and him.
. . . and that was the beginning of how everything started to unravel so terribly that day.
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"Gojo-san...! There's been an incident!"
He got that call right after he finished some things with Yaga. Satoru teleported to the preschool right away, only to be greeted by a scene of utter chaos.
Several teachers stood outside the building, and police officers were present at the scene. It was all a blur of cursed energy until his eyes caught sight of—
His little boy, red-faced and obviously in fear, was clinging to Ichiji, who was frantically making calls. Some teachers gathered around him were seemingly trying to coax him to speak.
He didn't waste a second to dash towards him, tearing through the crowd.
"Are you okay? Hey, buddy, what happened?" Satoru pulled him away from Ichiji and turned him over, crouching to his level to check for any signs of injury or harm.
And upon seeing him actually here, his son's eyes immediately welled up with tears, and Satoru felt a chill run through his veins as he broke into sobs, which quickly turned into heart-wrenching wails.
"Mama—! F-find mama—!" the little boy choked out through his tears, clutching onto his shirt tightly and crumbling in his embrace, thoroughly inconsolable.
Satoru's sharp gaze quickly swept over the scene, seeking any clues, while he tightened his hold over him. It was then he noticed traces of your cursed energy mingled with blood.
They hurt you.
"Hey, kiddo—listen to me, it's going to be alright, yeah?" Satoru said, gently pulling away to wipe away his tears, holding the boy's face tenderly in his hands. "Go with Ichiji for now, okay? I'm going to bring mama back, I promise."
He didn't need to be told twice. Your son is always obedient when it matters the most. He gave him a small nod, still shaking with tears.
"Don't worry," he flashed a reassuring smile and ruffled his hair. "I'm the strongest, remember? I'll get her back," he vowed once again. "She'll be fine. Wait for me until then, yeah?"
Ichiji was ready to leave as he had called for those in headquarters as backup in case anything were to happen again. Trusting him to keep his son safe, Satoru took off as soon as he could no longer see the sight of his son's tear-streaked face trying to watch him as the car pulled away.
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"I won't repeat myself— where is my wife?"
Satoru wasn't playing this time. He skipped past taunts and just plain threats. These little fries, he thought.
The man he held by the throat was in a lot of distress. "Hyaaa! It's him! Please, please, let me go! I'm acting under orders!"
He then flung him across the wall— might have added more cursed energy than necessary.
At the moment, his entire focus was on trying to locate you. He couldn't let his mind wander to anything else; in fact, he didn't permit himself to.
It didn't take him long to piece together the general location of where you were through the residual of your cursed energy. They stationed several hooligans in this abandoned warehouse to stall him, but he got rid of them quickly and he could sense that you were close by.
"It's Gojo Satoru!"
"Run! Ruuuun!"
What a pain. They picked the wrong person to mess with, and Satoru's lips curled into a manic grin as he opened his palm, pulling them in—
"Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue."
Chaos erupted as the building collapsed around him. He hoped you would realize he was here and manage to avoid getting caught in the wreckage. He was sure you'd know though.
And true to his thoughts, soon he found you— blasting your attacker away with a powerful kick.
Satoru thought that you were a sight to behold, really. And he was about to call out to you when he felt it.
It happened almost in an instant. The way his heart dropped to his stomach, and how his body reacted, barely whispering the incantation for Red as he shot it at something lurking behind you—
At that moment, the only thing you were aware of was the foul stench of a curse. Time seemed to stop before the overwhelming force of Red expelled it away from you.
But before then, you experienced a searing, white-hot pain that scorched through your flesh and pierced your abdomen—
"Y/N―fuck―!" The voice that came from Satoru's throat was raw and laden with panic.
He pulled you against him protectively as you collapsed, blinded by pain. He immediately felt warmth spreading across his lower body—your blood was rapidly drenching his shirt, and he felt a shiver down his spine.
You held onto him tightly while suppressing your scream, feeling every bit of your strength drain away along with the dark crimson blood that poured out of you.
"―toru―" you managed to croak amidst the scalding pain, curling and whimpering in his hold.
"Hey― sweetheart, please―" his voice rang in your ears, as he pressed down on your wound. His hands were shaking, and you clawed at him and groaned in agony. "I-I'm taking you back now― You're going to be alright, yeah?"
The wound was beyond anything you had experienced before, causing you to cry out and gasp for air. It was almost as if something fried your insides. It was hard to stay conscious.
"I've got you now. You're going to be okay." His voice was coarse, as he hurriedly carried you out. And he tried not to let the full-blown panic take over him when your body went limp in his arms, your breaths slowing, head lolling in his chest.
"You're going to be alright! You hear me, sweetheart? You're going to make it. Our baby― he's waiting for you. I promise you, you're going to be fine―"
Perhaps he was trying to tell that to himself, because despite the excruciating pain, a wave of reassurance washed over you.
You were in the arms of the strongest sorcerer alive, what more could you possibly afraid of?
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A special grade curse. They had actually unleashed a potent curse and likely aimed at him as their final card—until it veered off course and struck you, leaving a searing gash across your abdomen.
Satoru felt numb as he sat in the waiting room in his bloodied uniform. You got hurt so terribly right in front of his eyes, and all he could feel was this profound void that seemed to bore through him and pierced his soul.
He was supposed to protect you. He said it to your face that nothing and no one would touch your son, and it was in his wedding vows that he'd protect you with his life too.
And yet what happened?
If only he was faster. If only he was able to pull you to him and protect you with his infinity—none of this shit would have happened.
Seeing your face twisted in agony and smeared with blood made him feel sick to his stomach. Inside that OR, you hovered on the brink of life and death, and he was here, unable to do anything.
Satoru rested his head against the wall, feeling a sharp pain surge through his chest. He remembered waking up to your face every morning, the way your touches felt, and how you had brightened his world for the past decade. If he lost you now... he wouldn't survive it. He would wreck anything, everything—
"Papa!" and came his voice of reason. Satoru immediately discarded his bloodstained jacket by instinct, throwing it away before his boy could see it, with Ichiji and Megumi closely trailing behind.
His son crashed himself into him and threw his little arms around his torso, crying—and in that very second, the thump of his heart sounded louder in his ears. Somehow it felt like a knife that twisted his insides.
"Hey, kiddo." Satoru repositioned him so that he would sit on his lap and hugged him, patting him in the back. "There, there... it's alright, yeah? Mama is inside, she'll get better soon."
Your little boy pulled away and wiped his eyes, and Satoru chuckled as he helped him blow his nose. His child was incredibly adorable, and his actions mirrored yours to such an extent that it made Satoru's heart soften.
"Mama g-got hurt trying to... tell me to g-go..." the boy suddenly said amidst his quieter sniffles. "And... she s-said... papa— i-is strong and g-going to win..."
You believe in him. Ignoring the ache in his chest, only able to reply him with a "Yeah..."
Not long after, Shoko emerged from the operating room and informed him that the surgery had been successful, though you would likely need to have a one-week stay in the hospital for observation. He intended to move you to the VIP suite and stay the night there, but then he remembered his son, who was holding his hand.
Satoru crouched down and patted him in the head, fixing him a smile. "See? Mama is okay, but she needs to sleep here to get even better. Now you go home first with big brother Megumi, yeah?"
Your son adored Megumi and often begged you to let him stay over at his place, but this time he looked hesitant, fiddling with his little fingers. "Really? Mama will be home... soon?"
"Mm-hmm, the more she sleeps here, the faster she'll go back home, alright?"
And with that, his baby nodded and Satoru turned to Megumi with a nod. "Thank you for this, Megumi."
The boy whose life he had once saved on some sort of a whim, now grown up and shared the same concern he had for you, Fushiguro Megumi had never before witnessed his benefactor expressing such sincere gratitude for anything before.
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When you came to, your body felt as heavy as lead.
The discomfort in your abdomen made you flinch, and you almost let out a groan until you turned to your side and saw him.
Satoru was asleep while sitting in the sofa next to your bed, dark circles evident under his eyes. It might have been your imagination, but his cheeks appeared to be slightly red too.
You tried to recall what had happened to you when it came back—you urging your son to run away as you let yourself being taken away, almost escaping from that warehouse, the flash of excruciating pain, and Satoru's stricken voice.
So he must've been here since last night. Any remnants of your disagreement seemed to have vanished, seeing him there with you, barely covering himself with the blanket, with a frown still marking his forehead even in his sleep.
You wanted to reach out to him until the movement sent a sharp jab to your stomach and you cried out a bit.
In that split second, Satoru's eyes jerked open, and realizing you were awake, his gaze locked onto yours. "Y/N—" But your strained whimper and expression told him everything. "Does it hurt? I-I'll get Shoko, wait—"
And then he hit the call button. Throughout it all, he kept a firm grip on your hand for reassurance. A few minutes later, Shoko arrived and examined your wound, subsequently administering painkillers to alleviate your discomfort.
"It's going to leave a scar," she explained grimly, showing the mangled skin where the curse had made its mark on you, and seeing that, Satoru clenched his fists.
Shoko sighed, empathizing with her friend's frustration. "It's going to fade with time, don't worry. You did well, Gojo. You brought her here quickly. Had you been even slightly later, there could have been an irreversible damage to her organs."
But your husband remained quiet, unable to bring himself to look at you. And after she left, you tried to finally voice your question to him.
"O-our—"
"He's fine," Satoru immediately answered, squeezing your hand. "Our boy is fine. I'll tell Megumi to visit later—he's with him."
A sigh of relief came out of you. "Thank... goodness."
But his expression seemed to fall even further after hearing your response. Satoru settled himself on the seat next to you and lowered the rail on your bed, allowing you to be even closer to each other.
"Do you not feel any pain anymore?" he asked then, gently tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. He looked so sad, a stark contrast of how he usually was, and it bugged you.
"No... I feel fine now."
"Then, can I hug you?"
Of course you nodded without a second thought, and carefully, he wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you close and resting his face on the crook of your neck.
You knew what it was. Satoru was still visibly shaken by what had happened to you, and he wasn't great at expressing himself, so he tried to find consolation through this physical closeness instead.
"I'm okay..." you patted his back, trying to convince him. "I'm alright now, yeah?" But to your surprise, suddenly his whole body started to shake. "Satoru...?"
“…’m sorry.” His voice was barely above a whisper as he nuzzled you. “I shouldn't... have let you get this hurt...”
It always amazes you how Satoru always gets this distressed whenever you sustain any injury. You had seen him cry precisely two times now—once after you gave birth to your son and experienced severe bleeding, and now.
"It's not your fault..." you whispered in response. "You... have protected me well."
He held you tighter, his tone faltering. "I didn't."
"You have..." you stroked his hair, trying to convince him. "I'm still here, aren't I?"
Hearing you say that made Satoru's chest ache. The thought of something like this happening to you was unimaginable, and now that it had, he couldn't come to terms with seeing you hurt right in front of him.
"Don't—" he choked on his voice, his breath trembled against your neck. "Don't ever put yourself in danger again. If something happened to you, I wouldn't be able to live with myself..."
You couldn't make that promise. Despite the pleading in his voice, you knew deep down that your son's life—and his—meant more, and given the chance, you would obviously save theirs for yours.
“Satoru... I love you, you know that, right?”
So you simply embraced him close, hoping that in this life, you would live long enough that he would never have to see you like this again.
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Epilogue
"Papa, how do I become stronger?"
Satoru blinked when his son asked him that so innocently and curiously, taken aback as he led him to your private room later that afternoon. "Oh? What brought this on?"
His first and only son, a perfect miniature of himself, pursed his lips. "I don't want Mama to get hurt again..."
Satoru's heart warmed at his baby’s sincere words, and despite himself, he chuckled.
"What's funny?" his son leveled a glare at him. "I'm being serious."
"Well, aren't you such a good boy? Don't worry, kiddo, I'll teach you my ways~"
"What ways?"
"Well, no need to rush, pumpkin. First of all, you will have to harness your skills and then you have to be more like me—"
"Do I have to be like you…? Is there no other way?"
"—? What's wrong with being more like me?"
"Everything...?"
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luna-azzurra · 22 days
Text
Emotionally reserved characters
Instead of openly sharing their emotions with others, they keep their feelings locked inside, letting their inner thoughts do all the talking. You get a glimpse into their mind, where a storm of conflicts, doubts, and desires brews quietly beneath a calm exterior. This internal monologue allows readers to understand what’s going on inside their head, even if they don’t show it on the outside. It’s like seeing the world through their eyes, where every little thing stirs up a wave of emotions that they never express out loud.
For these characters, actions speak louder than words, but even their actions are restrained. They communicate their emotions through the smallest of gestures—a slight tightening of the jaw when they’re angry or hurt, a brief flicker in their eyes when they’re surprised, or a controlled change in posture when something makes them uncomfortable. These tiny, almost imperceptible movements can say so much more than an outburst ever could, hinting at feelings they would never openly share. It’s about what they don’t do as much as what they do.
When they do speak, every word is carefully chosen. Emotionally reserved characters don’t ramble or spill their feelings in a flood of words. Instead, they speak in a measured and controlled manner, always keeping their emotions in check. Their sentences are concise, sometimes even vague or indirect, leaving others guessing about what they’re really thinking. It’s not that they don’t feel deeply, they just prefer to keep those feelings close to the chest, hidden behind a mask of calm and composure.
For these characters, what they do is often more telling than what they say. They might not say “I care about you” outright, but you’ll see it in the way they go out of their way to help, the quiet ways they show up for the people they love. Their actions reveal their emotions—whether it’s a protective gesture, a silent sacrifice, or a kind deed done without expectation of recognition. It’s these unspoken acts of kindness that show their true feelings, even if they never say them out loud.
They often have strong personal boundaries. They keep their private lives just that - private. They don’t open up easily and are cautious about who they let into their inner circle. They might deflect conversations away from themselves or avoid sharing personal details altogether. It’s not that they don’t want to connect, it’s just that they find it hard to lower their walls and let others in, fearing vulnerability or judgment.
When they do show vulnerability, it’s in small, controlled doses. These characters may have moments where they let their guard down, but only in private or with someone they deeply trust.
Sometimes, emotionally reserved characters express their feelings through objects that hold special significance to them. Maybe it’s a worn-out book they keep close, a piece of jewelry they never take off, or an old letter tucked away in a drawer. These symbolic objects are like anchors, holding memories and emotions they can’t express in words. They serve as tangible reminders of their inner world, representing feelings they keep buried deep inside.
When these characters communicate, there’s often more to their words than meets the eye. They speak in subtext, using irony, implication, or ambiguity to convey what they really mean without saying it outright. Their conversations are filled with hidden meanings and unspoken truths, creating layers of depth in their interactions with others. You have to read between the lines to understand what they’re really saying because what they leave unsaid is just as important as what they do say.
Despite their calm demeanor, there are certain things that can break through their emotional reserve. Specific triggers - like a painful memory, a deep-seated fear, or a personal loss - can elicit a strong emotional response, revealing the depth of their feelings. These moments of intensity are rare but powerful, showing that even the most reserved characters have a breaking point.
Over time, emotionally reserved characters can evolve, gradually revealing more about themselves as they grow and change. Maybe they start to trust more, opening up to those around them, or perhaps they experience something that challenges their emotional barriers, forcing them to confront their feelings head-on.
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luveline · 1 year
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I would love to see more of badass reader x Spencer, but maybe reader gets hurt on a case (like a concussion or something) and only wants Spencer and we get to see more of reader’s soft spot for Spencer. Idk if that made sense or if that’s anything you’d be interested in writing. Love reading whatever you write!💕
thank you for your request and for reading babe!! —your singular soft spot for spencer rises to the surface when you get hurt in the field. fem!reader, 1.1k
Emily's foot tap tap taps hospital linoleum. The nurses are getting worried about you —your CAT scans are fine, but you're lethargic. Mildly concussed with moderate symptoms, you winced at the lights, told Emily to turn them off, and haven't said much since. 
She frowns. It's not nice to see someone who's usually so closed-off openly pained. "You okay?" she asks. 
"I wanna see Spence," you murmur. 
Emily nods slowly. She's had this conversation with you already. You have a spot of amnesia, nothing to worry about, decidedly temporary. 
"Why hasn't he come to see me?" you ask. Your voice trips and tumbles, your eyes glowing with a glassy sheen. "I thought he'd come to… make sure I was okay. But he doesn't want to see me." 
"Spencer's on the way here. He was an hour away with Hotch, remember? They're on their way." 
You twitch like a displeased cat under your sheets and turn away from her, sniffling weakly. Your shoulders heave with slow tears. Emily gets up to rub your back but thinks better of it when you stiffen. She doesn't understand how you function, doesn't know what it is about Spencer alone that you can be vulnerable with him and not the others, but she won't judge you for it. She just wishes there was more she could do. 
It's an untold amount of time between your tears and Spencer's awaited arrival. You're worse than lethargic, depressed, hand lax behind your back and unresponsive to the sound of the door. 
"She's asleep?" he mouths. His hair is limp either side of his face, flattened by anxious hands. 
"Upset," she mouths back through a frown, drawing a tear down her cheek with her pinky finger. 
He doesn't give Emily a second glance after that. 
"Hey," he says softly, rounding your hospital bed, touching the tips of his fingers to your hip and drawing a gentle line up your side. His head dips down, bending at the waist to see you better in the dim lighting. "Hey, what's wrong?"
You make a small keening sound from the back of your throat. It's so cleaving that Emily wants to leave, so painful that she wants to stay. You're her friend too. Emily cares about you, even when it hurts to do so.
"I don't feel like me," you say. 
Spencer doesn't shy away either. His expression is open, reassuring as he pops into a semi squat that can't be comfortable. His hand closes around your arm, thumb feeling the naked skin there sweetly. "It's normal to feel confused after a head injury. I promise it won't last." 
"I don't feel well," you say, small, like a scared kid. 
"I know." 
You reach for him. Emily knows Derek would never believe it, your hands stretched out almost desperately, the pleading noise yanked from between teeth normally gritted. Spencer wraps long arms around you with the ease of someone who's done it before, maybe exactly like this. 
"It's okay," he says. He's speaking with pep he doesn't feel. Emily can see he's stressed in the high pinch of his shoulders, but he's putting on a show for you. "You don't have to be scared. It's okay." 
The perpetual line carved between Hotch's brows seems deeper as he enters the room. Neither of you look up, your back loosening under the lazy back and forth of Spencer's hand. 
"Concerning, right?" Emily asks. 
Hotch ignores her, but not for lack of agreement. "What do her observations say?" 
"Mild to moderate head injury, post-concussion amnesia, fractured index and middle finger on her left hand." 
"Where are her clothes?" he asks. 
"They can't check her out until she gets her fingers cast and all she brought in her go bag was slacks." 
"I'll get her some pyjamas," Hotch says. 
Emily's not sure what's funnier, the idea of you in pyjamas, the image of Hotch choosing a pair, or the word pyjamas in his stoic murmur. He lingers to make sure you're okay, his eyes tracking the tremble of your arms as Spencer talks too low to hear in your ear, having sat down on the bed and curled himself around you protectively. 
You moan something sad and Spencer laughs, your hospital gown crinkling as he massages the top of your shoulder. "Why would you say that?" he asks lightly. "You think you know better than me? Really?" 
"Of course not," you say. If it were anyone else, you'd have knocked them off the bed already. 
"I don't remember you having an eidetic memory," he furthers. 
You actually manage to laugh for the first time since your initial injury. "I don't remember anything right now," you say. 
Emily leans over to Hotch. "You know, when we first came in, I suggested to the nurse that she might have amnesia because she kept asking me where she was, and she looked me dead in the eye and said, well, good thing you're not a nurse." 
Hotch scoffs a laugh. "It's a little surprising even now. Seeing them together, you'd never think it." 
"Think what?" Emily asks, fond rather than judgemental. "That she's as emotional as a China teacup?" 
"I'll remember for both of us," Spencer murmurs, stroking your face. "Okay? So calm down." 
Derek once told you to calm down and felt the cold of your icy attitude for a ragged week. Spencer says it and you take a visible deep breath, your head laying back in your pillows, his hand quick to cup the side of your neck. "Okay," you say quietly. 
"It's not just that," Hotch says, failing to explain further. 
He doesn't have to. Emily knows what he means. You can be snippy, aloof, unfriendly. But it's not just your softening that's surprising, it's Spencer's growing confidence. The ease with which he handles you, hands unabashed in their comforting. 
"Want me to find you something to wear?" Spencer asks. 
"We got it," Hotch interrupts. "Take it easy, Y/N. Rest." 
You nod obediently. He and Emily leave, hearing a last snippet of conversation as the heavy door closes behind them. 
"You wanna sign my cast, when they do it?" you ask hopefully. 
"Are you kidding? I'd love to. I've always wanted to sign someone's cast, and it's good for your morale." 
"Will they be in a cast long, do you think?" 
"They should be healed in about six to eight weeks, but you may not regain full strength for another two months afterward. There have actually been studies…" 
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fev3rish · 3 months
Text
STUPID, SLEEPY, AND ALL YOURS. kenji tots w/ v
unbelievably drowsy, kenji speaks so fast he forgets to think. this leads to … feelings.
cw. sleepy kenjiiii zzzzzzz, kenji has a hard time being vulnerable but he’ll try for reade, kenji loves you, i project on kenji, i love kenji so much, unproofreaded, a bit of hurt but a lot of comfort and fluff
notes. im sleepy… do not repost or translate this work unless done with permission.
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thinking about sleepy kenji sato who doesn’t think when he’s all sleepy; all he wants is to lie next to you.
you’re not in bed yet, he has all the space this time. he uses it to twist and turn continuously and wrinkle your pretty white sheets, messing them up more than they already are. what was that thing for work you had to do that was more important than letting him hold you? kenji groans, the soft blanket against his skin feeling like the spikes of cacti without your skin against his. it’s so cold, and he blames you for it, because what are you if not his portable sun? he misses you so much, and you’re only a room away!
he hopes his whines are loud enough for you to hear. maybe you’ll come check up on him? oh, he hopes you will! he really does hope you will. he’s so sleepy, he might just cry if he doesn’t have you in his arms in the next minute. he wishes you would just crawl into bed with him; that way, your scent would be on the sheets, and your hair would be in his face as he spooned you from behind. he always preferred it that way. to kenji, fucking someone was easy—but to lay in the same sheets, intertwined; to be able to withstand that sort of intimacy—it was too much. he wasn’t ready for that. he wasn’t ready to wake up to your face and realize that yes, he is going soft; yes, he is inlove, and yes, he is yours.
kenji should be happy he has all the space, he knows he should be, but he isn’t. he wants to share it with you. he wants to drape what was once his blanket over your body, and he wants to hold you close and kiss the top of your head as you drift off to sleep. he wants to give you the extra pillow he always saved for himself, and he doesn’t even know why he wants to do it. maybe he’s crazy, or maybe he’s in love. in his core, kenji already knows why.
he’s all yours.
the sound of the door opening has him peeking out of the covers, eyes gazing at your equally tired form. you jump back, almost hitting your lower back on the knob of the door. you catch yourself fast enough. kenji just looks at you and smiles. “why are you still awake?” you walk over to him, and sit on the edge of the bed. he readjusts himself so that he lays strictly on his side. “i couldn’t sleep.” kenji answers, but he’s lying and you know that more than anyone.
kenji’s easy to read, the problem is no one bothers getting close enough.
you don’t pry. kenji wishes you did, he would’ve had an excuse to talk to you about you. it’s so hard to show his love sometimes, so hard to tell you he values you—he wants to tell you the true extent of it all, to tell you that he doesn’t love you despite your flaws, but with all your flaws. he wants to, so badly, but theres a lump in his throat that stops him and he’s been trying to spit it out for so long that he fears you might just leave him at this point.
he’s feared you might leave him at many points.
yet, here you are, and here he is, draping a blanket over your body as you turn around to kiss his cheek goodnight. he spoons you, and he realizes that you’re still here. he should focus on that, first. on loving you.
the steady pitter-patters of the rain keep you company as kenji buries his shoulder into your neck, soft hair tickling your chin as you smile in your drowsy state. “you took sooooo long.” his voice is muffled, and you chuckle a bit because his voice vibrates against your shoulder so hard that you shiver. he’s whiney, tired, and so, so, lovey dovey. you love it. “i’m so sorry, kenji, you know how work can be.” a short response, yet the sound of your voice has kenji grinning like a schoolgirl against you—and he squeezes just a little bit tighter.
“no, ‘m sorry.” he says. you raise an eyebrow. “why are you sorry? no need to be sorry for being all lovey with me, bab—”
“i’m sorry for not being lovey enough.” he interrupts, and you part your mouth to reply but nothing comes out besides a confused “huh?” he sighs, and sits up—and you lean against the headboard of his bed, ready to listen. always ready to listen.
“i… didn’t want to get too close to you, you know ?” he mutters, his hooded eyes looking right, left, down, anywhere but at you—because he’s not himself. he’s exhausted, everything’s been taking a toll on him and the only anchor he has is you. “i wanted to distance myself. i didn’t want you to get caught up with me. i’m… god, i’m a fucking wreck…” he trails off, and you want to reach out but he’s not done. “before you, i didn’t think i could do anything right—because i didn’t. i couldn’t. what was the point being a super famous baseball star and fucking ultraman if at the end of the day, you realized that every day was the same as any other. you come home to no one, and your bed is always cold. you comb your own hair, and there’s no one else to drape your blanket over because you’re all alone in such a big house and it makes you realize that even though you’re—”
he bites his lip, trying to hold back tears, but then he looks at you, and it’s like he wants to cry. to be coddled over, to be doted on. so he lets himself shed a few tears, to make up for the frustrations he’s had. “even though you’re ultraman, you’re still capable of feeling small.” he concludes, and as if a switch had flipped—he practically falls into your chest, droplets of his own tears staining your shirt. you coo, and you comb through his hair and put the blanket over the two of you as you kiss his temple. “it was always like that.” he whispered.
it’s then you realize that kenji, even though he tries to act high and mighty, is truly just miserable.
“then i met you.”
you don’t know what to say.
“it was like you crashed head first into every wall i had, you know? i didn’t want to be in a relationship with you at first. i wasn’t worth you. i’m never going to be worth it for you; atleast, i don’t think s-”
“no.” is all you say, and kenji, drowsy as he is, looks up at you. “no, you’re worth everything. you’re worth so much more than you know, kenji, you’re worth every second i spent breaking those walls of yours dow—”
“that’s what i’m talking about.” he interrupts, for the second time. and you look at him questioningly. “you always have something to say. you never run out of words. you never run out of love. you love me. you love me so much, don’t you?” he asks, and faced with his handsome face and husky voice your blushing self can only nod. “yeah, i can tell. that’s why i’m sorry. you never run out of words when you’re with me, but god, i always run out of words when i’m with you. it’s like, if i could, i’d follow you around forever. in complete silence. you’re so beautiful i can’t even say it.”
you’re down bad; so is he.
“i promised not to get too close, and now i’m laying on your chest in tears because i love you too much to even word it. that’s really fucking stupid, right? i’m stupid. i’m stupid, sleepy, and all yours.” he babbled, and before long, he was dead asleep on your chest. his tangent left you in love, in shock, and in utter disarray. you did not mind the drying tears on your shirt, nor were you gonna mind how awkward it would be in the morning, and you wouldn’t dream of minding kenji being vulnerable in front of you. right now, you were so happy you could cry—you were so happy, you did cry.
this time, kenji fell asleep looking at you.
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dr-demi-bee · 2 months
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Gale's act 1 romance is just so good. The more I think about Gale the more I like it. It shows off so many parts of his character - how integral magic is to him, his love of teaching, his smugness, his appreciation for your friendship... But also his vulnerability. Before you picture something more - he looks pleased. Happy to share a moment with you as friends. (During the party he even expresses hoping that he can consider you a true friend. A self-professed rarity for him.)
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At the same time he's making this face though, he moves closer to you. Whether he would acknowledge it or not, Gale clearly does seek out that intimacy.
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His earnest surprise after pulls at my heart strings. He genuinely wanted to find a safe way to connect. He had no expectations of you returning his feelings (hence, embarrassment - at being perceived, or at not considering your feelings, perhaps.).
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Followed by a resigned shoulder slump and a face of desperate yearning... 🥺 It's almost the same pouty face he gives you when he confesses he loves you.
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Then, genuine thrill - elation - at the very idea of it! Gale has a firm grip on what he shares with us here - he's still an archmage level wizard (even nerfed), and that's a skill he would have. (It's probably why we don't ever accidentally connect tadpoles with Gale). He chooses after his initial surprise to share a feeling of not just joy but a joy with pride and optimism. He turns *towards* you - communicating not just elation but desire in his expression.
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But he immediately follows this with an 'oh shit, stop thinking about it' look and a long shake of the head to clear the thought(s) away 😭 (Because trepidation here isn't about kissing you - it's about the orb.)
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But he's quick to reassure you - not just because he knows you wouldn't be able to hide your thoughts from him (not an option - even picturing nothing carries a feeling with it) . "But it is a pleasant image, to be sure." And then he hits you with a confirmation of his desire and approval. "Most pleasant, in fact. Most welcome."
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He hadn't considered it a possibility, but gods be damned, you've given him the first burst of hope and confidence he's had in a while. The first time in months he's felt wanted. His posture straightens with the confidence boost. He turns fully to you and clearly wants to bask in the moment - to connect with you.
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But then the Weave evaporates. Whatever the reason may be, Gale didn't do it. He didn't expect it. Clearly. He posture collapses and he whimpers like it physically hurt.
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The narration makes it clear how jarring the connection ending feels to us (cold and lonesome) - how must it feel for poor Gale? He hasn't had such a strong connection with someone in ages. Who knows how long since it was with another mortal (if ever)? We know from later stages of his romance and from communication with Gale that physical touch is an integral part of his expression of love and connection. And with the orb he can't have it. The loss of intimacy and connection here hurts.
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"How easily things slip away from us." How easily they are lost. Anyway go hug your wizard.
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greyskyflowers · 1 month
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I'm just such a big fan of Edwin having some permanent issues after a second trip to hell and the final run in with Esther.
I like the idea that he actually has to sleep now. Nowhere near what a living human needs but more then he ever needed before. Maybe sleeping for several hours every few weeks.
Iron wounds take longer to heal, even though Edwin has always had a higher pain tolerance due to his experiences in hell.
When he's really tired, things start to hurt. Tender pain along all his joints, the spots where the demon spider found it was the easiest to tear him apart.
He get bruises under his eyes, headaches, occasionally a little chill, stiffness, and just a general aching all over his body.
It's hard for Edwin to sleep, for several reasons. Nightmares, anxiety, restlessness, and just being stubborn.
The vulnerability of sleep is terrifying.
The idea of leaving Edwin alone somewhere to sleep, even in their office, has Charles skin pickling. Especially knowing Edwin is also reluctant to sleep without him there.
So, Edwin does not sleep alone. Ever. Occasionally he gets left with Niko, and sometimes Crystal, but it's for very brief amounts of time before he's back with Charles.
It should be embarrassing to have these issues now, and it is, but they're even closer after Port Townsend and it's not something Edwin can avoid. He has to sleep now.
Really, it comes down to does he wants to keep it to himself and nap when no one else is around to avoid feeling weak? Or does he want to sleep with the comfort of knowing someone is with him and hell won't take him before he even gets a chance to wake up?
It comes down to how fearful is he of something dragging him off into hell again and the answer is apparently incredibly so.
Also, if he's going to look vulnerable and weak then it might as well be with Charles, who's seen him at his worst.
He tries not to overthink how pleased Charles is each time Edwin seeks him out for a nap or how good it feels to be held, the safest place he can think of is in Charles arms or under his sharp watch.
Charles hovers, and he's aware of it. He can't convince himself to stray too far from Edwin. Part of it's because he's protective, reluctant to leave Edwin in anyone else's hands when he's more vulnerable then before.
Part of it is selfish, he's a little possessive. A sleeping Edwin is not something anyone else needs to see. Edwin in pain is not something anyone else needs to see.
Crystal had recently demanded they have a bed available in the office for when her and Niko stayed over, even though they rarely use it. It's soft, covered in pillows and blankets, and Edwin has taken to hiding away in it when he sleeps. Crystal looks incredibly pleased when it slips that Edwin uses it and Charles is hit with a intense wave of fondness for her.
No one needs to see Edwin like this. Especially not when he loses a lot of his layers and curls up in something more comfortable. It leaves him vulnerable, his throat and wrists bare, and looking smaller without all extra clothing.
Nobody needs to see how he only really lets himself sleep when Charles is in bed with him or close enough in the room to reach out for if needed. He watches Charles do whatever it is he's doing with half lidded eyes, a strip of green that stubbornly stays visible until Charles is closer.
In the beginning they thought it was something temporary. Ghost don't need to sleep, Charles never sleeps. Sometimes he can get himself to relax enough that it's almost like sleeping but it's not anywhere near actual sleep.
They think it's just him trying to make up what Esther took.
But it keeps happening. Again and again.
And it makes them both anxious. Charles is worried about why Edwin suddenly needs to sleep but Edwin is worried about the actual sleeping part.
He does not want to sleep. Sleep means dreaming and nothing good will come from his dreams, he's sure of it.
It's also scary. Sleep is a weakness, it leaves him vulnerable and unaware. He doesn't want to sleep.
In those first few weeks where they all still thought this would pass, exhaustion caught up to him one evening as they were finishing up a long case. Charles was out and he couldn't even think about how wonderful it would be to go to go lay down because Charles was not there.
The office was too quiet. It made him restless and he would have paced but he was feeling especially sore that day. His hands had ached while he was writing and he had to stop frequently to flex them.
He was weak, alone, and rapidly sliding into a decreased mental awareness due to exhaustion. It's not a situation he liked.
They weren't apart for long those days, and still aren't, so Charles is back pretty quickly but it's long enough that Edwin was struggling. He blinked sleepily at Charles, with eyes that itched when they shouldn't have, and he must have looked terrible because Charles straightened up a little bit and his eyes jumped around the room before he relaxed.
He said something, dropped his bag and walked forward until he could put his hands on Edwin and that's it. Edwin leaned forward until he was relying on Charles to hold him up, turned his face into his neck and passed out still standing up.
It doesn't get that bad again. Charles is good about noticing when Edwin starts to slow down, and when it takes him a little longer to string his words together or explain himself. He picks up the way he carries himself different on day where things hurt a little more or how he rubs his temple when he feels a headache coming on.
He herds Edwin to bed like a sheep dog and makes sure everything is locked up so they won't be bothered. Edwin had managed to find a spell that would keep anyone else, living and none, out of their office when activated. It's perfect for extra privacy and security.
Charles hates that Edwin was hurt enough that he needs this now, and he hates seeing him wore down and exhausted... but part of him loves these days.
Edwin sleepy and soft, usually pulling Charles down with him until they're under all the blankets and pillows, tucked on their own little world.
He clings when he sleeps. He buries his face in Charles throat and under his chin like he's trying to hide, presses in as close as he can until they're completely tangled together. Not that Charles has any problem with that. He runs his fingers over skin in soothing gestures and pulls him in close if he starts to show any signs of a nightmare.
He wakes up with hair sticking up and clothes rumpled, blinking at Charles a few times as he tries to wake up enough to remember what's happening. Sometimes, Charles gets lucky and Edwin will stretch out like a cat before readjusting himself to be close again and doze off for a little longer.
It knocks the breath he doesn't need out of his lungs and love sits in his throat until it threatens to choke him.
Sometimes there are nightmares and Edwin shoves himself away desperately with a pained and fearful noise that has Charles cringing. Edwin stares at him from the other side of the bed, eyes big but unfocused in a way that shows he's not actually seeing Charles. He's tight, tense and completely locked up. He couldn't move even if he wanted to. They're both still laying down, and Charles doesn't move even though he wants to. He starts talking, low and soft, keeps doing that until Edwin starts to relax again. It's a slow process and it takes a while before Edwin is relaxed enough that Charles can reach out and coax him back closer. He's exhausted after those little episodes, too tired and his body too sore from being so tense to put up much of a fight as Charles tucks him in close again. Sometimes he's asleep before they're even settled back in, limp with sleep as Charles rearranges him in a way that won't have him aching when he wakes up.
Sometimes Charles is too wired to lay down, even if cuddling is great motivation, and he keeps himself busy while Edwin rests. Sometimes they're in the middle of a case and there's still work that needs to be done, so he does what can while until Edwin is back up and functional.
It's a powerful feeling, having Edwin trust him so much and so openly. Sometimes Charles has to check on him, the quiet and unmoving lump on the bed making him nervous until he looks him over, just to make sure everything is okay. It's hard to tell sometimes since they don't breathe like the living, and Edwin sleeps so quiet. He doesn't even flinch at Charles getting close, nothing triggering those survival instincts gained in hell that would have him awake and moving if it was anyone else this close.
God help anyone stupid enough to try something when they're like this. He'd fight anyone who disturbed them, anyone who woke Edwin up from his much needed rest or threaten to cause them harm. It burns under his skin and it makes his teeth itch.
Nothing would separate them. Nothing could take them away from each other.
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lakesbian · 8 months
Text
nobody move. i've just successfully articulated the sentiment that taylor's power turns her into a panopticon because she was living in one & explained her trigger in a way i feel satisfied with for the first time in my life
the concept of the panopticon is not just about surveillance, but about creating an environment where people cannot be sure whether or not they are being surveilled, and thus must constantly act under the assumption that they are. which is exactly what happened to taylor--we see from when we first meet her in the school that she's anticipating attack from every possible direction to avoid it, and the one time she lets her guard down a fraction and assumes she's found a safe spot to hide from abuse, she's targeted with the juice spills. and this is after her trigger event, but it's clear she behaves this way because it was beaten into her over the entire course of the bullying. it's what she describes when she recounts the trigger:
“I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.  But I made a friend, one of the girls who had sometimes joined in on the taunting came to me and apologized.  ...  Her approaching me and befriending me was one of the big reasons I could think the harassment was ending.  I never really let my guard down around her, but she was pretty cool about it. “And for most of November and the two weeks of classes before Christmas break, nothing.  They were leaving me alone.  I was able to relax.” I sighed, “That ended the day I came back from the winter break. I knew, instinctually, that they were playing me, that they were waiting before they pulled their next stunt, so it had more impact. I didn’t think they’d be so patient about it. I went to my locker, and well, they’d obviously raided the bins from the girls bathrooms or something, because they’d piled used pads and tampons into my locker. Almost filled it.”
the precise moment when she stopped consciously anticipating and preparing to react to abuse--when she relaxed, when she stopped acting as if the lack of danger didn't mean that she couldn't still be hurt at any time--is when she was brutally reminded that she's never safe. she's still in the panopticon. she isn't literally being watched every second, she isn't literally in lifelong danger of having her vulnerabilities exploited, but it feels like she is. she can never ever be sure she's safe.
so she triggers, and she gets a power that turns her into a panopticon, and lets her watch everyone right back. it lets her regain control by turning her into a source of danger that could attack anywhere, from any direction, any time, fully unexpected.
& the reason her power enables her to watch Everyone--not just a single person, or a few people--but Everyone, is that the other major aspect of her trigger is the trauma of facts like this:
“It was pretty obvious that they had done it before the school closed for Christmas, by the smell alone. I bent over to throw up, right there in a crowded hallway, everyone watching. Before I could recover or stop losing my breakfast, someone grabbed me by the hair, hard enough it hurt, and shoved me into the locker.”
"All I could think was that someone had been willing to get their hands that dirty to fuck with me, but of all the students that had seen me get shoved in the locker, nobody was getting a janitor or teacher to let me out."
for months, for years, she was in a community where everyone regularly witnessed her humiliation and abuse, and everyone, dozens and dozens of kids and teachers, either contributed to it or was knowingly, silently complacent. this is what sticks with her: the idea that she is so universally reviled, so deserving of revile, that any crowd of witnesses would, without hesitation, consign her to the filth of the locker.
what else is she supposed to conclude, but that everyone she interacts with is a threat? that she can't drop her guard ever again, because no one will be coming to help her if she does? of course she has to become the panopticon. of course she has to watch everyone, all of the time, if she wants to stop it from happening again. of course she has to live among the teeming lowly and crawling things she has been taught via one firm shove that she is worth less than, and of course she has to use them to watch everyone back. and it would be inaccurate to say that doing this--monitoring everything with her bugs--makes her feel safe. all it does is allow her to remain in a constant state of paranoia and traumatized hyper-vigilance more efficiently.
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divinesangel · 5 months
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— 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞?
pm me for an affordable, in-depth personal or soulmate reading! ko-fi.com/solreads
— 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞!
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— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏
it's very likely for you to meet this person in a place where people are very outgoing, have a lot of passion, and they are always on the go. it could be a bustling city with a touch of a mystique energy, or a place where maybe religion or sacred places are prominent. i'm getting vibes of a vibrant café in a corner where you're able to feel and smell the aroma of freshly brewed coffee along with people's conversations and day-to-day life. everyone's on their own reality and each lost in their own world. however, amidst the crowd and these people, you catch a glimpse of someone who stands out, a figure exuding confidence and charm, also with a hint of determination and confidence. this is someone that from the very beginning you will notice that it embodies the energy of someone adventurous, daring, or someone with a fiery passion or energy that ignites curiosity within you. there is going to be an exchange of glances, almost as if it is an instant recognition, like an instant acknowledgement of a connection that transcends words. their vibe or energy is going to be quite enigmatic and there's a level of depth in them that will draw you in. you both will feel this magnetic pull and as you approach each other or by the moment one of you decides to do something, you will soon find yourself engaged in a conversation that flows effortlessly and where you both will feel the gentle butterflies. one of the things that you'll be noticing is how kind and compassionate this person is and how romantic they can be sometimes. it's the type of behaviour that will speak to your soul and make you feel a certain way, a way you haven't felt before. there is a sense of innocence and sincerity in this person that adds a spark of curiosity from them when it comes to you. together, you'll find yourselves immersed in a very lively exchange, sharing stories, dreams, and aspirations. it will be at this moment that you will realize that you've stumbled upon something truly unique and magical.
— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐
you'll meet your soulmate in a place where the sun shines brightly and the sunlight pours in through wide windows, filling several rooms of the street with a warm, inviting glow. it's going to be a place where people go out to enjoy themselves, and during this day, a lot of people are going to be outside enjoying the weather and the warmth that it brings. everyone is going to be soaking up the sunshine and enjoying the simple pleasures of life. when it comes to you, i feel like that as you go about your day, you'll find yourself at a crossroads. this could be a part of your life where you could be facing a decision that weighs heavily on your mind. it could be a choice about your career, your relationships, or your personal goals. it's like you will feel torn between different options, unsure of which path to take, and anxious about the consequences of your decision and wondering if you're on the right path. this turmoil may make you experience sleepless nights, tossing and turning as worries and fears swirl in your mind. the nights seem to amplify your concerns, leaving you feeling overwhelmed and exhausted. and i feel like during this day that you will meet your soulmate, you will make the decision to go out and try to enjoy yourself more, instead of always being at home overthinking things. because despite the uncertainty and anxiety, you'll have the resilience and you'll be brave enough to throw yourself into your work and yourself with a lot of focus on determination. these uncertainties and anxieties might also have to do with past heartaches or disappointments. there's like a lingering fear of getting hurt again or a fear of opening up and being vulnerable. all stemming from the past. you'll be devoting yourself to your pursuits and trying to be more productive, with the aim of not thinking too much about the future. then, when you least expect it, this person will walk into your life. i feel like it's very likely for you to meet this person while they're working somewhere or they're helping someone with something. there's a sense of working on something that i'm picking up, and it's something that you will admire about this person. i feel like at first, you will admire them from afar, and i don't see you taking any steps towards this person, but i feel like there is going to be maybe a friend of yours that will introduce you to them, or perhaps there could be someone around you that knows this person that could introduce you to them.
— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑
you will meet your soulmate in a place where there's a lot of people. it could be a very bustling urban setting where people seek to thrive and they are always busy. it's a very busy environment and i feel like when it comes to the place where you will meet them, it could be at a working event, a conference, or even a lively co-working space. there is a lot of energy filled with people hustling to achieve their goals and a lot of conversations on future plans. there is a legal sense to this, so it could be that this person might be someone in a higher position than you, or someone with a respectable job. in this connection, i feel like there could be a lot of ups and downs because at first the connection might not flow that very well and you could feel like there could be some tension and it's very likely that you won't really know whether this person likes you or not because of their cold behavior or an expressive self. at first, you could feel that there's not really much to do with this person or like maybe nothing else is going to be happening, but that's something that changes quite soon. it sort of feels like an enemies to lovers type of thing. as you get to know each other, you'll discover that they share your values and aspirations, they're very driven, ambitious, and determined to succeed, and you will find yourself in them. i feel like at the time you may not notice this part of you, but once you get to know them more, you'll figure out and discover that you're actually quite ambitious and determined as well. besides that, i feel like you'll find yourself discussing big ideas, making plans for the future, and supporting each other's dreams. you'll be able to navigate the ups and downs of life as a team, finding strength in each other's company, and of course you'll also share laughter, challenges, and moments of quiet understanding as your relationship deepens and evolves. eventually, you'll realize that this person is the one you've been searching for, and it's going to be quite funny for the both of you to look back and analyze how everything went down. from feeling tense around each other and not really knowing what to talk about or do around each other, to being together in a very loving and healthy connection.
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𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 !
hi! it's daphne here.
i'm currently offering personal readings for €5 and soulmate readings for €10 so don't hesitate to send me a private message if you're interested!
thank you for being here!
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lovegasmic · 3 months
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switching it up a little but can i get a bff gojo x fem reader where reader moves on from having something with gojo??? it’s inspired by that one tik tok audio “does he make you laugh?” and the girl responds with “he doesn’t make me cry” and it could be angst IDK I NEED IT PLEASE
DOES HE MAKE YOU LAUGH ?
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 angst cw. f!reader, situationships breakup, Satoru is jealous jealous and very bad at showing his emotions. ( i wrote this with that one satosugu scene in mind help ) more bff Satoru
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you weren’t doing that to him, right? there was no way Satoru saw you chatting and laughing with a guy over a cup of some unknown beverage at a nearby café, one where you both often got breakfast from.
but he couldn’t say anything, you were best friends, nothing more, nothing less, so —although incredibly appealing, causing a scene wasn’t in his plans. instead pacing in the solitude of your apartment from which he had a key, and if you were to bring that dude home, then Satoru would happily kick him out.
‘how long are you taking in coming back home? is your... stupid little date more important?’ he huffs to himself, the four walls of your living room his only comfort, observing his every move, every step and desperate check on his phone for news from you, even after sending you a text to hang out.
an hour, two hours, how long has it been? merely 20 minutes that feel like an eternity.
but you come back, making Satoru’s invisible puppy ears perk up at the sound of your footsteps and keys finding the doorknob, “hey, when did you get here?” you ask with an oblivious... gorgeous smile and the blue eyed desperate wants to kiss you stupid, to bruise your lips with his teeth.
“where were you?” he asks instead.
and you frown at the demanding tone, “...out?”
“you didn’t answer my texts”
“oh” a hint of understanding flashing through your eyes, “sorry, I was kinda busy”
giving into unfounded jealousy Satoru’s jaw clenches, “with who?” he takes a step closer, staring at your dumbfounded expression more clearly, another step closer, “i saw you with that guy, who is it?” one last step and he has you almost caged against the wall, your scent filling his senses, almost making him bend and slam you against the wall to kiss you, to make you remember you’re his.
“Satoru, what the hell is wrong with you today?”
“am I not enough for you?” although his voice is low and full of anger, there’s also a hint of vulnerability he’s not yet ready to show, not in this situation, not when his heart is about to break.
“Satoru, i—”
“does he treat you better than me?” he cuts you, “does he make you laugh?”
“he doesn’t make me cry”
he’s taken aback, the mask of anger melting under your defensive tone, “what?”
“i’m tired, Satoru, of... whatever we have, I want stability, not just a random fuck once every couple of days”
so that’s how you feel... that’s what you think of him... hasn’t he showed you how he felt? how much did you mean to him?
the words die in his throat like his heart, struggling to properly articulate his feelings, but... you’re hurt, he can see it in your eyes, just how long has he been driving you to the edge, with this constant back and forth, coming to fuck you just to get a new girlfriend days later. he’s an idiot, isn’t he?
so why can’t he just apologize? why is he stepping back, giving you room much against his will because he already misses your warmth and perfume?
“sorry” he mutters weakly, but sorry for what? for playing with you? for not being honest? for invading your space? perhaps all.
conflicted with realization, that he fucking loves you so much he’s struggling to breathe, mind in a haze as he steps towards your door and walks out without a word.
but if your happiness is not with him, then Satoru hopes that you find it with someone else.
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runningfrom2am · 10 months
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Hi, how’s your day been going? Hoping it was amazing. I just saw your post about needing inspo for Coriolanus fics! I’m not sure if you are taking requests but if you are Could you maybe do a touch-starved Coryo fic? Something fluffy/angsty where Coryo can finally fulfill those needs and be himself and vulnerable with the reader. Thanks!
as long as you need me - c.s
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pairing: coryo x fem!reader
wc: 1.7k
tags/warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, he just needs you and you just want to help.
requests (currently closed- feel free to send whatever but it will be a while before I get to them!)
nav / coriolanus snow masterlist
a/n: ahhh thank you for sending this in! it was so fun to write like stopppp i just want to give him a hug omg. also thought i'd post this to hold y'all off until i post the next part of LTPF. anyway, enjoy!
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You had a very stable grasp of the limits of your relationship. What was appropriate, and what was not. You were quite shy, and Coryo always carried himself with a high level of decorum. You would eat together at lunch, and he would walk you home most days. The weekends, your study dates, were always your favourite. He was significantly more relaxed, but you could still tell he was just a little tightly wound. By now, you've just learned that's who he is. Not overly affectionate, but he cares for you and you care for him. 
"I can't stay late today, I'm sorry." You said, genuinely feeling bad for having to turn down the request. In your junior year, you started tutoring for younger grades at the academy and it is something you thoroughly enjoyed.
"I have a test tomorrow! Why can't you stay? Just for a few minutes- I just have a couple of questions." The first year, Aelia whined.
"My boyfriend is supposed to walk me home and he has a tight schedule, but I'll tell you what, I can meet you in the library in the morning before class. That way it will still be fresh in your mind, yeah?" You grinned, and she seemed satisfied as you agreed on a time, not knowing that a few of the girls in your grade were listening in.
"Y/N," Clemensia decided to approach you as Aelia walked off, Arachne and Livia following close behind. "Did I catch you telling someone that you have a boyfriend? Did I hear that right?"
"Oh, well, yes." You answered sheepishly, gathering your things to put in your bag before your next class.
"Really?" Livia chimed in, and you just nodded. "Okay, well, spill. Who is it? Do I know him?"
"Um..." You looked around, deciding what to say. You weren't necessarily keeping it a secret, but you just hadn't felt the need to tell anyone you went to school with. "It's Coriolanus. Snow." You cleared your throat, unsure why you even added his last name. It's not like the name Coriolanus was abundantly common.
"Shut up." Clemensia laughed slightly, eyes widening at you. "You're joking, right?"
"No... We've been together for almost seven months now."
"I just... wow. We had no idea. Seven months! I feel like I've never seen the two of you get closer than two feet apart." You weren't sure whether to interpret this response as teasing or genuine shock- so you just gave them an awkward smile and a small nod before walking away.
At the time, you had never considered how your lack of affection in public could be confusing to people- not that it mattered. Rumors had spread quickly after that, which was to be expected when Livia and Arachne were involved. However, PDA just wasn't your thing. General displays of affection weren't really your thing, either. Both of you always had a lot going on, and having been together for almost a year by now, you knew that you loved him and he loved you. You didn't have to prove it to each other or to anyone, there was no pressure for anything to change. On your end, anyway.
Coryo, on the other hand, was feeling something shift. Leading up to the reaping and more importantly, to the prize. You both were in the running, being in the top twenty-four of your class, and you had no doubt that Coryo was a shoo-in, but you didn't know how extremely anxious it was making him. The now constant thrumming of his heartbeat in his chest and his shaky hands were always less around you, and he can only dream of how much better it would be if he could just hold you.
These days, he'd wake up expecting you in his arms due to a particularly calming dream only to be disappointed. He respected you a great amount and wouldn't want to push your boundaries, however unspoken. Still, he wasn't sure how much longer he could go about his day-to-day without testing his theory that holding you could cure his fears, or at least let him forget about them for only a moment. He would happily take just a second of peace.
Coriolanus usually greeted you outside of your unshared classes, seeing that you tended to stay a few minutes late to ask questions or polish off your notes. He couldn't wait to see you, he needed to.
"Coryo." You smile, walking out of your lecture hall to see him waiting.
"Hi, Love. How was class?" Your boyfriend greets you, joining you on your walk towards the exit of the school.
"It was good. Though, I find the topic of the rebellion kind of redundant at this point." You say, books tucked against your chest under folded arms. "Is it not too soon to discuss it in a history class? I mean, I literally remember what it was like to live in a bomb shelter."
Your joke seemingly lands on deaf ears as he just hums, placing a hand on your lower back to guide you out of the building. This wasn't totally unusual, but with the way he was pushing you, albeit gently, was telling you that something was wrong.
"Is everything okay?" You ask him, looking up at the boy next to you as you reach the bottom of the academy's front steps.
"Fine." Coryo nods, attempting a reassuring smile that he isn't aware falls short.
"Okay, well... If you want to talk about anything, I'm here for you, you know. Always."
"I know. Thank you, Love." He drops his hand from your back to hold your free one, turning in the direction of your apartment.
The next afternoon, you're in the same class, one of the rare ones you don't share with Coryo, taking down notes from the lecture when there's a knock on the door, followed by it creaking open. You pay no mind, taking the opportunity to catch up on everything written on the board.
"May I borrow Y/N, please?" Your boyfriend's voice is scratchy and shakey in a way unfamiliar sounding to you, making your head snap up. You'd never seen him cry before. "Only for a moment."
Your teacher dismisses you, likely on account of your and Coriolanus's mutually spotless records and his red-rimmed eyes. Clearly, you were needed urgently. You leave your bag and your books, ignoring the whistles and heckling of some of your classmates as you rush to the door.
Coryo had reached his breaking point. He was writing his third paper of the week, unable to focus on that and get his mind off of how unlikely it was he would get the prize if the Dean had any say. Sitting in the library, the world had started turning around him. People were talking, laughing, even, and he couldn't take it anymore. The floodgates opened and he had rushed out of the room. He couldn't go home, his attendance would be affected and he'd be throwing away the prize most definitely. He had nowhere to go, except for to you.
You close the door behind yourself, thankful that the hallway is completely deserted during class time. "Hey, what's going on?" You ask, and before you can get a good look at him he's pulling you into a crushing hug, shaking around you.
You're shocked for a moment, pulling yourself out of your head to hug him back. Whatever is bothering him must be bad. He'd hugged you before, but never like this. "Hey, it's okay..." You whisper, rubbing his back. "Let's go outside for a second, yeah? Get some air?" You offer, gently prying yourself from his grasp to look at him.
Coryo can't speak, overtaken completely by the tears flowing down his cheeks and the anxiety flooding every inch of his body. He feels like he could be sick, all he knew that he needed was you. He just nods, trying to regain his composure, if only for the couple of minutes it takes to get outside.
"Okay. Let's go." You smile, trying not to show how worried you are as you wrap an arm around his back, still holding him close to you as if he has a broken ankle and you have to carry him. So far, his theory was proving to be correct. Just having you at his side was calming to him, and mentally he's cursing himself for not voicing his fears to you before they broke him.
As soon as the door of the rarely used back exit to the school is closed, he's essentially collapsing onto the ground, tucking his knees up to his chest and crying into his hands. You're quick to join him, draping an arm over his back and trying to grab one of his hands to hold. Your brow is knit with worry, rubbing his shoulder as he allows you to take one of his shaking hands. "Coryo..." You say softly, trying to get him to look at you but he won't. "What's happening? Talk to me, you can trust me. I just want to help."
He sniffles, looking up at you. "What is it?" You ask again, hoping to prompt any kind of information out of him. When he doesn't answer, you curve your approach to yes or no questions, hopefully, to make it easier on him. "Is someone hurt? Is it Grandma'am? Did something happen?"
He shakes his head slightly with every question, once again avoiding your eyes as he looks down at the ground, occasionally trying to cough out the knot in his throat.
"...Do you want to talk? Or do you just need a hug?" You realize, leaning in so he would look at you again.
He pulls you closer, wrapping both his arms around you awkwardly due to the way you are both sitting. "Just need you here." He mumbles, hardly audible as he buries his face in your shoulder and neck.
Relieved to hear his voice again, you place a hand on his hair and on his back, holding him tight. "I'm here, Coryo. As long as you need me."
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rainystarshower · 2 months
Text
SFW Alphabet with Aventurine
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chara : Aventurine
cw : possible OOC, grammar mistakes, fluff, gn reader, not proofread
a/n : Oh dear, it’s been far too long since I’ve made something for this page 😅
.⋆。⋆˚。⋆。˚。⋆. .⋆。⋆˚。⋆。˚。⋆.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈✩┈┈┈┈┈𝄞
A — How they show affection 𝄞≛
For Aventurine, it’ll take time for him to really open up to you. But when he does, he’s very affectionate. He’ll appear out of nowhere — instantly snuggling against you, holding you tight like you’d turn into ashes the second he let go. He spoils you rotten! Even if you try to decline, he’ll sneak it somewhere in your room or bag <3
B — How they are as a bestie 𝄞≛
The only best friend ever!! Aventurine wants to know everything if you two gossip!! If you have quite the limited information and he’s especially invested in whatever you told him, he’ll secretly dig into it more and tell you all about it! He’ll always share the best news from the IPC with you — unless it potentially puts your life in harm
C — How they cuddle 𝄞≛
Cuddles with Aventurine make you feel like he’s on his last breath. He may not seem like it, but when you two are dating or really close, he’ll always be asking to cuddle. He holds you, like you’re something so fragile. He’ll randomly latch himself onto you and never let go!
D — A domestic life with them 𝄞≛
On days when he’s tired, he’ll try to help out with anything the best he can. On days when you’re tired, he takes care of everything; no matter what it is! Though, if you’re both tired? He’ll snuggle up to you, watching whatever you two feel like watching whilst eating fast food. The both of you eventually drifting into slumber in each other’s arms
E — Ending the relationship 𝄞≛
He’d be sour about it. No matter who ended it, he’ll still be upset. Every little thing he does, reminds him of you. Even if he tries to brush it off and bury this reminder of you — it almost feels impossible. For someone he was so vulnerable with, to be gone, out of his grasp is a pain unexplainable.
F — How do they feel committing with you being their fiancé(e) 𝄞≛
He’s all in! Maybe he’ll feel a bit hesitant, worried and scared for the future that could bestow him, or possibly not being good enough in committing, but you, oh you... Your presence soothes him, making him feel comfortable and ready for whatever hurdle may appear as your fiancé or more. He’s ready to dedicated so much to you, as well as his commitment for something so big <3
G — How gentle are they with you 𝄞≛
Very gentle. Even during days he’s in a foul mood, he’ll try to remain gentle with you. Even if you really manage to piss him off, he’ll be upset, but in the end he’ll try and make it up by being tender and sweet with you. For you, the effort would definitely be worth it.
H — Do they like hugs 𝄞≛
At first, no. He’ll flinch and back away, trying to mask how uncomfortable he is with a smile. Though as your relationship develops, you find him hugging you more than you hug him! He loves everything related to you, especially hugs!!
I — How long does it take for them to say ‘I love you’ 𝄞≛
It takes a while. It takes almost everything in him to say it, even if it’s an empty ‘I love you.’
But be patient, wait for him. He’ll love you like no other, constantly reminding you of it in different forms because words can be quite hard. Mustering up the courage to really, genuinely, say ‘I love you’ is rare for him. But it will definitely happen. Take it slow
J — How are they when jealous 𝄞≛
He’s quite petty about it! Oh and hurt... He’ll tell you “Oh, why not ask them to do it for you?” Or if somebody’s flirting with you, he’ll wrap himself around you from behind, purposely calling you the world’s cringe petnames, hoping whoever is flirting with you will take the hint!! When he’s being petty, he’ll eventually break, asking you directly who that person was. He refuses to let go of you until he’s relaxed
K — How do they like kissing 𝄞≛
Aventurine’s kisses with you are tender, sweet and gentle. I like to think of his emotional kisses. Where he pours out his whole heart into his kisses. He gives you pecks here and there whenever he thinks you look handsome, cute, pretty, beautiful — which is almost all the time! Kisses gave him much more meaning after meeting you. Now he’ll practically start whining the entire day if you refuse to kiss him!
L — How good are they with little ones 𝄞≛
Have you seen the way he treats his younger self?! If you have any younger siblings, he’d spoil them beyond rotten just as he does with you. He’s really good with little kids. Some might feel a bit nervous at first around him, but they warm up quickly as Aventurine tells them his PG (?) stories. Perhaps even showing them the cool things he has on him, magic tricks, or anything really. He’s quite patient with them too!!
M — How are your mornings with them 𝄞≛
I’ll admit, mornings aren’t entirely the best with him. Half the chance is you’ll wake up from Aventurine on the call from the IPC, and he’s normally up and at it before you are. On times he’s not disturbed by work, he’s rather cuddly and refuses to get up. He will also not let you get up either. He wants to stay in bed with you forever!
N — How are your nights with them 𝄞≛
Nights are much better than mornings. He always tries to come home early, back to your presence. He gets nightmares most the time, so help him out the second you notice. He’s also cuddly at night but he’s a light sleeper. The slightest creak could jerk him awake, so be extra quiet when you sleep with him!!
O — How open are they with you 𝄞≛
He’s actually really open even if he shows hesitancy in it. He feels guilty for it, but he can’t help it. He tries his hardest to be as open as he can be with his feelings about you or anything for that matter. When he learns how much you truly care, he might end up getting a bit emotional <3
P — How patient are they with you 𝄞≛
He’s very patient. Or so, he tries. With you, as I’ve said, he’ll always make the effort. He’ll wait for you, even it bores him in the meanwhile. As long as you’ll be alright, he’ll be alright. Same is the other way around, you need to be really patient with him too, alright?
Q — Quizz them to know how much do they remember about you 𝄞≛
Everything. Every detail down to the bone. The only stuff this guy would forget would probably be how much money he has left! Even if he finds himself in a muddle, unable to remember something about you, he nails it with his guesses which relief him
R — What’s their favourite moment in their relationship that they remember 𝄞≛
(This is something I think everybody has reallyyyyy different opinions on) I think it’d be the first time he cried in your arms... Sure he was vulnerable during the time and embarrassed about it afterwards, but it’s a memory etched into him. The way you accepted his cries, comforting him, making your scent the scent of ‘home’, ‘security’, and ‘comfort’ to him... Also any of the times you’ve made or bought him something !
S — How secure — protective are they of you 𝄞≛
Protective enough, but if anything happens, of course he’ll be upset. He might dwell on it, but he’ll trust you not to harm yourself again. He’s very protective if he notices anybody glaring at you in a not-so-friendly-way. He’ll run background checks on anybody who harms you and let’s them know that the next time you’re harmed because of them, they’ll have to grovel at your feet for mercy
T — How hard do they try for their relationship 𝄞≛
He tries his hardest. After all, you’re not just some fling to him. You’re somebody he cherishes more than anything, really. He’ll try and try, he’ll keep trying for your sake
U — What’s an ugly, bad habit of theirs 𝄞≛
He has a very... Unpleasant habit of making you worry like crazy, even unintentionally. Sometimes, when he’s so swept up in work, he’ll forget to tell you how busy he’ll be for so and so. He makes up for it when he sees how panicked you were with a dinner and whatever else you’d like!
V — (Vanity) How insecure are they 𝄞≛
He’ll be quite insecure about his eyes no matter what, even if he’s improving slowly. Or maybe he’ll be insecure about some other part of himself, to which he doesn’t confide in anybody with. Although, you take matters into your own hands, reassuring him, comforting him. You make him feel like maybe his insecurity isn’t so bad...
W — Would they feel incomplete — not whole, without you 𝄞≛
Absolutely. With a far developed relationship like yours with him, he’ll most definitely feel unimaginably incomplete without you. He, himself doesn’t understand at first why he feels like something’s missing — though he’s quick to catch on that it’s you. You’re what’s missing and, it kills him. He needs to be with you again, so he can feel whole. Not Aventurine, but Kakavasha.
X — Xtra headcanon 𝄞≛
Cried when you called him ‘Kakavasha’. Your honeyed tone, so tender and sweet... It strikes him in the heart. He really loves you. As well as his cat cakes!
Y — What’s in their list of ‘Yuck!’ things 𝄞≛
He doesn’t like ‘boring’ people. He prefers when people have a little extreme in them, or a rather odd characteristic that makes them stand out differently. He doesn’t like dirty people either. In both ways, personality and literal dirty! If you’re physically dirty due to health issues, he’ll help you out. Otherwise if you’re plain lazy, he won’t appreciate that. Nor does he appreciate people who try to ‘cheat’ during fair and honest gambles. It irks him.
Z — How do they zzz 𝄞≛
Sleeps like a baby!! Even if he wakes up due to any small sound, in his deep slumber, he’s just spread himself all over the bed like a starfish. One of you will end up waking up on the floor one day, that’s for sure. He easily feels when your presence is gone, making him curl up in his sleep, but when he feels you, he’s all starfish again!
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Text
Prewar!Cooper Howard has a breeding kink because he loves being a dad. He and Barb married and started trying for kids later in life than most folks around them, so much of the sex they had, especially early on, was focused on getting Barb pregnant. If he'd had his way, they would have had a whole litter of children, but hey, sometimes life doesn't work out the way you want. Still, there's the fun of trying, and there was a lot of trying. After the divorce, he's shocked when he meets someone else, and even more shocked when he feels those same urges with you. He's been trained to try and knock one in basically every time, he jokes.
At least, that's what he tells himself.
He's also incredibly possessive, and it drives him wild to think about getting to see you all swollen and filled out with his child. Particularly with you being younger that him; the ugly part of his brain is barking at him to stake a more permanent claim on you every time a guy your age so much as looks your way. Personally, he thinks he's too old to have more kids, but between his secret urges, your forgetfulness when it comes to your pill, and your twin high sex drives, well...sometimes accidents happen.
He'd be over the moon, once he knew you were happy as well (he would also worry about the news potentially being hurtful to Barb, but that'd be an issue for tomorrow). Showing you off in public, knowing that other people see how gorgeous you are and know you fully belong to him, it really gets him going, and you certainly take notice of how amorous he is when you're out together (combined with how vigorously he fucks you when you get home). Thinks you're insanely sexy pregnant and likes to watch you ride him with a big belly. You'd both better be a lot more careful about your contraception after the first baby if you don't want another, because getting to see you that way only makes his kink worse.
The Ghoul has a breeding kink because he's incredibly possessive. It's been literal centuries since he's come across anything in this world that he cares for enough to want to claim it, and you're officially claimed. He wants everyone, including you, to know that you belong to him and only him. Other ghouls can smell him on you much more strongly if he cums inside you, and he enjoys the way filling you full scratches his most primal itch. It's just an added benefit that he's almost positive he can't actually get you pregnant, but...there are records of ghouls reproducing with other ghouls. Haven't stranger things happened?
The little thrill he gets at the idea is just nature trying to take over.
At least, that's what he tells himself.
You'd be hard-up to get him to admit it, but he wants you to need him. He wants an excuse to baby you and pamper you and force you to let him do things for you without the vulnerability of admitting that he wants to do those things for you anyway because he's deeply in love with you.
You complain that your feet hurt during your journey for the day? He'll carry you everywhere you want to go from now until the end of time, if that's what you want. Stomach and appetite troubles? Name whatever you want, he'll find it for you, no matter how many caps he has to pay. Tired? "Of course you're tired, sweetheart. Let's stop for today. Here, sit down. Do you need some water? Eat this, you need some calories. Let me rub your legs and feet for you." It is endless and sort of surreal for you to adjust to.
Speaking of journeys, I think he also secretly wants to settle down a bit. He does already after he meets and falls for you, seeing how much the constant trekking back and forth across the irradiated desert takes out of you, and he definitely would want to do so expeditiously if you were pregnant. It's not like secure places don't exist in this world. He can keep you, and anyone else who may come along, safe just fine.
He'd be afraid to fuck you if you were pregnant, worried that he'll hurt you or make you sick or make something bad happen with the pregnancy. But if you reassure him, maybe beg a little, he'll do his best to make sure your urges are satisfied. Sit on his face and let him slide his tongue through your insanely sensitive folds, lie back and let him fuck you with those agile fingers while he jerks himself off. You'll miss being properly penetrated, badly, but you won't go without.
He wants an excuse to be even more protective of you than usual. Give him a reason to literally pluck men's eyes out for daring to so much as look at you, a reason to never let you out of his sight ever again. If you thought he was ready to commit violence to keep you safe before, you haven't seen anything yet.
I can't imagine it would be easy to have a big family in the Wasteland, but reminding him how much he loves being a dad would certainly have the thought on his mind.
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slut4thebroken · 7 months
Text
Safe
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | Jonathan Crane x reader
Summary | Your boyfriend just wants to keep you safe… by any means necessary.
Warnings | Smut, dubcon, attempted? SA (not by Jon), manipulation, walking red flag lol, house wife kink?, praise, painful sex, sub space, crying, dacryphilia, breeding.
Words | 2.3 k
Notes | Finally finished the fic from this lol
Ao3 link | <3
Masterlist
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You were kept properly fed and fucked, what more did you need? 
The first time you asked to leave after partially moving in, he was almost offended. He gave you a short “fine, if you want to put yourself in danger, go ahead” and walked away. You didn’t leave, except to occasionally stop by your own apartment. Usually he'd do that for you though. 
The second time, you didn’t ask, you just brought it up. You wondered what he meant by that. “The world— but especially Gotham— is full of people who want to take advantage of you and hurt you. They see your kind heart as a vulnerability they can exploit. Do you understand?” 
“But.. that’s never happened before?” You said meekly. Despite living in one of the most crime ridden cities in America, nothing bad has happened to you yet— you’ve lived a perfectly average life. 
“You were lucky. But that luck will run out. I just don’t want anything to happen to you.” He said, gently brushing your hair behind your ear. “I care about you too much to do that to you, that’s why I’m not forcing you outside.” The way he twisted his words around to make it seem like he wasn’t forcing you to stay inside was completely lost on you. 
“Oh. Thank you, Jon.”
“You’re welcome, angel. I know it’s scary. Would you like me to help you get rid of that fear?” He cooed, making you blush at the implication behind his words. 
He wanted to be gentle with you… but thinking about how scared you’d look in a situation like that made it hard to control himself. He tried not to get too impatient while he ate you out since he knew you needed the preparation… Once your words were becoming a little incoherent as you begged and pleaded senselessly, he decided you were ready enough. You still struggled to take him, but that wasn’t much of a surprise. You didn’t dare say anything though because of how desperate you were to please him, not wanting to ask him to wait even longer for what he needed. 
“Do you know what those men want to do to a sweet thing like you?” He said, his thrusts slowing into a rocking motion. “They want to take every last ounce of innocence and kindness you may have. And do you know how they’ll do that, my love?” You shook your head, trying to focus on his words and not the feeling of his cock inside you. “They’ll fuck every single one of your holes until they either get bored or interrupted. But they won’t be gentle with you, like I am.” The thought of them being less gentle than Jon was almost unfathomable. You whimpered and bit your lip, not wanting to think about something like that. “No..” He chuckled quietly. “Animals like that don’t care about you. You’re just a set of holes to them.” 
“Jon..” You whined, brows furrowing. 
“I’m just trying to help you understand, angel. I’m keeping you safe, why do you always have to question me?” He frowned, making you falter. “I thought you wanted to be with someone who cares about you and your well-being. If you don’t, then maybe we’re not meant for each other,”
“No! No, I- I do want that— want you. I’m sorry for questioning you, Jon. I won’t do it anymore, I promise.” You begged staring up at him through your lashes as your eyes started to fill with tears at the thought of him leaving you. 
“Are you sure, sweetheart? I promise I won’t be mad.” 
“No, I want to be with you. Please.” He wasn’t quiet for long, but it was long enough to make you start rambling out pleas. “I’m sorry for questioning you, I know you’re just trying to keep me safe. Please don’t leave me, Jon.” You whimpered, making him shush you gently. 
“It’s okay, little one. I’ll stay and keep you safe, don’t worry.” 
To really drive the point home, he staged something. He asked you to go to the store for a few things since it would close before he could get off work. You were on your way back, almost to the apartment building, when someone grabbed you, dragging you back into an alley. The bag fell to the ground and he roughly shoved you against the wall, covering your mouth when you started to scream. He pushed you into the wall with his body, his bulge digging into your hip, and as he started ripping off your clothes, all you could do was cry. You didn’t know how else to react. 
Your shirt was discarded to the floor and when he started forcing your bra off, you tried to put up a little bit of a fight, but he just grabbed your neck and slammed your head into the wall. You whimpered at the pain, hands going limp and dropping to your sides. He finally removed the garment and you barely registered the cold air on your nipples. 
“Yeah, look at how fuckin hard they are— You like this shit, don’t you?” He asked smugly, making you shake your head, but you immediately stopped when your vision started spinning. “I bet this pussy’s wet too.” He pushed your skirt up, then roughly cupped your sex over your underwear, making your cries turn into violent sobs. 
“Hey!” His body was suddenly gone, making you collapse to the floor. “Angel?” Your head snapped up once you registered his voice. 
“Jon?” You whimpered, trying to suppress the sobbing. 
“Shh, it’s okay.” He put your shirt back on, then grabbed your bra and the bag before helping you up. Once you were inside his apartment, the crying came back full force. He hugged you and cradled your head, holding you against his shoulder. 
“You’re okay— you’re safe now.” He whispered, holding you tighter. “I’m so sorry, little one. I should’ve never asked you to do that.” He brought you over to the bed and had you lay down. 
“Are you hurt?” He asked, voice thick with something you couldn’t quite discern. 
“My head.” You whimpered, the pain intensifying now that you were thinking about it. He got up to get you some painkillers and water, then laid down next to you and wrapped you up in his embrace. 
“You might have a concussion, so you have to stay awake. Can you do that for me?” You whimpered and shook your head, feeling so incredibly exhausted. “I know you’re tired, but I need you to stay awake. Can you please do that for me?” You wanted to please him so badly that, despite the fact that you were struggling to keep your eyes open, you agreed. All you could think about was what just happened— over and over again. You let out a choked sob and turned your face into his chest to muffle your cries. 
“I was so scared, Jon.” You whimpered, fisting his shirt to ground yourself. 
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’m so, so sorry.” He whispered, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head. “Let me help you forget.” One of his hands started snaking down your back until he reached your hip. He grabbed you hard enough to make you whimper and moved you to lay partially on top of him. “We need keep you awake too.” He said softly. When you felt his bulge against your stomach, your body started trembling even more intensely. 
“I know this may seem hard, but you know I only want what’s best for you. I would never do anything to hurt you, angel.” You nodded with a sniffle and he gave you a pleased smile, then pulled you into a kiss. His hands roamed your body, making you wince when he dragged his fingers over the scratches on your back just a little too hard. 
He quickly removed your clothes and once you were completely undressed, he rolled both of you over and settled between your legs. With gentle hands, he pushed your hair out of your face and wiped the drying tears from your cheeks. You’ve never looked prettier than right now, your eyes glossy and wide from fear, and your lips trembling, staying slightly parted as you took in ragged breaths. 
“My sweet girl.” He cooed. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you ever again. If that means letting you move in with me fully, then I’m more than willing to make that sacrifice for you.” Your bottom lip quivered as you stared up at him with teary eyes, but your expression showed that you still weren’t completely convinced yet. “It’s up to you, darling. Whatever you need, I’ll do it for you.”
“Thank you, Jonny.” You whimpered and he clenched his jaw when you used the name you only use in a certain headspace with him. He always took advantage of these moments. The ones where you were pliant and needy and too dumb to know what you wanted.  
“Of course… I love you so much, little one.” Your cheeks flushed and you looked away from him, embarrassed. He knows how those words affect you which is pretty much the only reason he says them. He cares for you obviously— he’d kill anyone who’d lay a finger on you… except the people he hires for that— but he doesn’t love anyone. Not even you.
“I love you, Jonny.” You whined. He leaned down to kiss you as he worked on opening his pants and removing his cock, making you let out a startled moan when the tip brushed your folds. It took a little more force than usual because he’s been hard since he saw you in the alley and he couldn’t give two shits about foreplay right now. When he finally breached your opening, you let out a pained whine that was overshadowed by his groan. 
“Every time feels like the first time I fucked you.” He said through a breath, leaning his head into the crook of your neck as he panted quietly. “So fucking tight and hot and wet… best little cunt I’ve ever felt.” He moaned quietly. 
“Jon…” You whined and he could practically feel the blush on your neck. 
“I’m sorry, angel, I can’t help it. You feel so incredible, you deserve to know how good you make me feel.” He didn’t let you try to respond before slowly dragging his hips back until only the tip was inside, then forcing his cock back in just as slowly. He got lost in the feeling of slowly rutting into you, your whimpers music to his ears as you just laid there and took it. 
“If you decide you want to stay with me, you won’t even have to go outside— I’ll take care of everything for you.” He cupped your cheek as his eyes bored into yours. “All you’ll have to do is clean up around the house, have a warm meal ready when I get home, and take my cock whenever I need. You won’t have to worry about anything else.” He promised. 
You nodded, staring up at him as your bottom lip trembled. He could tell you were still in pain, but you were already fucked dumb enough that you either didn’t feel it or didn’t care. 
“What else did he do to you? Did he touch you?” He rasped, trying not to sound too eager as he snaked a hand down to rub your clit. Your shaking intensified and you let out a quiet whimper as you nodded again. “Where?” You whined and looked away from him. He could tell you wanted to stay quiet, but his tone showed that he was expecting a response. 
“There a-and… my chest.” 
“I’m so sorry, angel… Were you scared?” He was getting close now. 
“Yes.. I thought— I…” You cut off with a strangled sob and he used his free hand to cup your cheek again. Your crying picked back up and tears were streaming down your face, making his cock throb almost painfully.  
“I know, sweetheart. It’s okay, it’s over now.” Despite his words, you continued crying. Because it wasn’t over. He knew you weren’t in the mood, but he also knew that you were too stupid to realize that right now. You were too stupid to realize he was just finishing what that man started. 
His hand moved down to roughly grope your tits as his fingers picked up on your clit. You were practically frozen beneath him. You weren’t grabbing his hair or clinging to his shoulders like you normally would. You were just laying there limply, taking his cock like a good little girl should.  
“I’m so close, angel. Just a little longer.” He said through a breath. You were whimpering and moaning quietly because of how rough he was being, and he couldn’t help but smile at how pretty you looked. Your lashes were damp with tears as you continued crying, your brows scrunched together from all of the physical and emotional pain you were enduring… 
With one final thrust, he fully buried his cock inside you and let out a low groan as his head fell downward, resting in the crook of your neck. He removed his hand from your clit and wrapped his arm under your shoulders and head, hugging you tightly, making your whimpers and cries get a little louder. He reveled in the way your body was trembling and the way your cunt was practically suffocating his cock because of how tense you were. Grunting quietly, he rode out the rest of his orgasm, only loosening his grip on your body once his cock stopped twitching. 
“Good girl.” He whispered, placing a tender kiss on your neck. He waited until his heavy breathing returned to a normal level, then pulled back to look at you. “I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you ever again.” He said softly. “I’m going to keep you safe, little one. I promise.” Safe from everyone but himself. 
I edited the taglist post so pls take a look ty <3
(For the record, this ⬇️ is why I’m changing the taglist system lmao. It’s just too much😭 This is going to be the last fic (except ongoing fics) that’ll have a taglist fyi)
Taglist
@pedrisgatorade @lunyyx @faebirdie @idkdudsworld @nashja @rentaldarling @theoraekenslover @kaorisakamotofan @scorpiussage @naevisct @jimmywoosimp @cillianscrybaby @vivvive @ceruleanrainblues @mrkdvidal1989 @brooklynscherry-z @ohmysatansstuff @monsterfromthewoods @aviamulier @d1lf-loverthinqs @butlersluvbot @miyababby @n1ghtw1ngslver @mandowhatnow @baekhyunstruly @nashja @xxorazz @halleysc6met @crunchsworld @babaohhhriley @deceitfuldevout @gentyleman @lorelais-world @shroombloom-rry @pinguwrites @thatonesinglefriend @bernelflo @milktert @nyxxie.pooh @butterfly-lies-chase-them-away @milkytomura @bigbossbabysworld @sheisthedxrkness @ll4n4 @olivialveshbc @feyresqueen @charlottegemyngende @ffionspreach @drcranessweetestdoe @goblinjnr @1nterstellarcha0s @mothhball @anonwrtr @venustusjuliet8 @cillianslvt @bluujaiwrites @jayroytodd @harleyql @lokabrenna0801 @hanawrites404 @soo-woop @sewmxx @havkjhdecs @trumanbluee @twasbrillig71 @punkiebuttons
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