#seriously my chest hurts because my heart can't hold all the love i have for him

[butters-flower-mom]

I love Butters so much I'm gonna cry and throw up and explode.

[oneforthemunny]

what about mafia!eddie and reader going through a rough patch and all they do is fight and kitten tells him that they should take a break and i'll leave the rest up to you....

oof ok let's 180 back to angst. buckle up angsty babes!

"Maybe," Your voice trembled, sucking in a shaky breath. "Maybe I should go stay with my parents... for a while."

Eddie's head whipped around, eyes wide with something you couldn't quite detect, a new look teetering between anger and something worse. It made your spine tingle with chills, icy and fearful.

"What?" Eddie's voice was soft, much quieter than the raised tone from before.

"I-I think," You tried to still your voice, throat raw and aching from the back and forth screaming match of the night. "I think I- we need to be apart for a while." You whispered, refusing to meet his gaze, looking at the couch behind him instead.

"Why?" Eddie barked, teeth gritting and baring in fury, heart pounding with a fear he hadn't felt in a long time.

"Eddie," You sighed, shaking your head at him. "Seriously? All we do is fight." A fresh wave of tears rolled over you, nose burning.

"That's not-"

"-Eddie," You stopped him, gaze meeting his. You could see it now, could see that the foreign look was fear. Your heart sank, taking a shuddering breath to calm yourself. "We're just... We can't stop fighting."

Eddie stilled, frozen across from you. "I'm tired of fighting." You admitted softly, shoulders slumping in defeat.

Days, weeks of bickering- back and forth until your voices were raw, doors slamming, then retreating back with careful apologies, only to repeat the cycle over and over. You were dizzy from it, from trying to get him to see, to understand your point. He was so stubborn.

What started as a what if silly conversation, turned into a bickering, fueled into a full blown fight that seemed never ending.

"You'd be a good dad. You're so good with the boys." You hummed, leaning against his chest.

"Yeah? You'll never know." Eddie scoffed casually.

You frowned, pushing up to look at him. "What?"

Eddie blinked. "C'mon, you know I can't have kids. Not doin' this job. Won't do it to some poor kid."

"But I'll never know?" Your lips pursed. "That's a pretty shitty thing to say to me. Pretty bold." You pushed off of him, out of his hold.

Eddie huffed, running a hand down his face. "Where're you- Seriously? We've talked about this, have we not?"

"Yeah, we have." You huffed, cheeks burning. "But saying I'll never know- do you not see how that's a little rude?"

"What?" Eddie threw his hands up. "You won't. Not with me, anyways."

You gawked at him, surprised, furious, hurt. "You're such a fuckin' asshole. I can't believe you." You snapped, stomping off.

That was the first night. Both of you stubbornly coming for the other, agitation building over and over and over, piling on top of previous fury until you'd finally burst. Leaving you standing here, where you are now, defeated and ready to throw the towel in, too tired to fight.

"I-I- Baby, if this is about the kids thing, look, I told you-"

Your sigh cut Eddie off. "It's not about that." You ran a hand down your face. "I can't- I can't keep trying to explain my side of things when you aren't listen. You won't listen."

"Then what? What is it?" Eddie's franticness turned to angry urgency. "Just say what you mean! Say it!"

You didn't flinch at his anger, at his outburst. Your lip wobbled, taking a deep breath in. "I've said it." You muttered. "I can't- I won't be in a relationship that's one sided." Eddie felt sick at your words.

"I understand that you don't want certain things, and I respect that, I do. But I've changed a lot of things in my life for you, because I love you." You continued, tears brimming your vision. "All I'm asking is for a little change in return. Not with the kids thing-" You cut him off before he could start, sensing what he was going to say.

"But there's two of us in this relationship." You look at him. "I just wish you could try to see my side of things sometimes."

"I do-" Eddie spat in defense.

"-When I'm agreeing with you, you do." You snapped back. "But when it's something you disagree with, you shut me down, dismiss it because what you say is law-"

"-It is not-"

"-And I'm tired of it." You look at him pleadingly. "I think we both need some time apart to figure out what we want. What we do from here."

Eddie felt tears burn, threatening to fall. "I know what I want." He gritted through clenched teeth. "I want you. I've always wanted you. I don't need time to figure out because it's not changing."

You nodded slowly. "I know you do." You whispered. "But this is what I'm talking about. That's what you want."

Eddie felt sick, heart sinking lower and lower into the pit in his stomach. "I need time apart." The room was silent, your voice cutting through. "I need to figure it out."

"Are you- You're breaking up with me?" Eddie sounded petulant, voice crackingly pathetic that he hadn't been since he was a teenager.

Your shoulder shuddered, exhaling shakily. "I didn't say that." You shook your head. "I-I don't want to, that's not what this is. I just... I need to be able to think. We both do."

Eddie blinked, vision bleary with tears that fell. "Alright," He nodded, ignoring the ache in his chest, heart splitting in two. "If that's what you want."

Watching you drive off, slow down the road, Eddie ignored the screaming in his head to run after you. To pull you out of the car, demand you come back, bring you back himself. This is what I'm talking about, your voice played in a painful loop in his mind.

You called him like you said you would, hours later when you got to your parent's house. A quiet, quick phone call. His heart still swelled, lifting when you muttered a fast, "love you" before hanging up.

Sitting in the stillness of the empty house, Eddie had never felt so lonely in his entire life. It was horrifying, thinking that his future could be like this- a life without you in it. Eddie decided right then and there, he'd do whatever he needed to make sure that wasn't his reality.

[kmazine]

[ 05:15 PM ]

"That's pretty. Someone gave you flowers?" Seungcheol asks as you settle in the passenger seat. You shook your head.

"No. I bought it. We went to the flower shop nearby to buy flowers for our new manager then I saw this flower and it's too pretty so I bought it" You smiled at him before you avert your gaze back to the bouquet of flower in your hand, all giddy and excited.

You smiled, the light hue of pink and blue of the baby breath together looks so pretty and cute so you decided to buy one.

"You know you can just tell me and I will buy it for you, right?" Seungcheol said, crossing his arms against his chest as he pouts. He knows you love flowers and he hope he's the one that bought that flowers for you instead so he can be the reason of that giddy smile of yours.

"I know and you always bought me flowers even when I don't tell you to" You reminded him. He squinted his eyes at you with faux annoyance.

You giggles and pinched his cheek before hands him the bouquet.

"This is for you"

He tilts his head and blinks at you for a few times and slowly taking the bouquet from your hands.

"Me?" His brow furrows and his eyes wander between your face and the flowers in his hands.

"Yeah" You giggle, didn't expect him to be that surprised.

You're about to wear your seatbelt before immediately it slip off your grips, startled at his out of nowhere question.

"Are you breaking up with me?"

"Wait, what?"

It was silent for a few seconds before you crack up and burst into laughter ㅡ both amused and in disbelief.

Seungcheol on the other hand, wasn't that amused, that you're wheezing at his question and at this confusing situation overall.

You took a deep breath and wipe the tears forming at the edge of your eyes. Your stomach hurts and you took a deep breath while caressing your chest, trying to calm yourself down.

"I'm sorry. I can't believe you ask me that just because I bought you flowers" You chuckle before you lean closer towards him and give his cheek a peck.

"It's because I love you, honey. Your favourite flower remind me of you." His cheeks flushed red as he grins at your explanation and you want to tease him so bad but you decided not to, and just let your man enjoy appreciating the flowers in his hand.

"I seriously need to pamper my man more." You chuckle as you buckled your seatbelt. Your heart swell with so much love with the way he look at the flowers and you with his lovely gaze and infectious smile, as his dimple making appearance.

Seungcheol suddenly unbuckled his seatbelt and leans towards you before he cups your face with his hands and gently pulls you into a long and sweet kiss.

"Thank you, love." He whispers. Now it's your cheeks that feels hot and flushed pink, making him smiles against your lips.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Cheol" You snicker at him when he said he trust you more to protect his flower than the back seat. So you end up holding the bouquet the whole drive home while your other hand folded with his.

And now you made it your life mission to pamper him with more flowers.

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[ my other works / masterlist ]

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a/n : Idk I just typed this and post.

I swear I have other members and other groups and 3478 more seungcheol post in my drafts but everything remind me of Seungcheol so I just wrote new one and post lol. I didn't proofread or check so I'll edit any grammatical error and typo later. I hope you guys enjoy reading this.

[heartchoi]

fwb!yeonjun x gn!reader, suggestive/fluff (and a little angsty if you think about it), 632 words

It's warm. Yeonjun is panting against your bare chest, hands struggling to hold himself up after a particularly strong orgasm. Drool begins to fall from the corner of your lip, but Yeonjun swipes it clean with his thumb before shoving it into his mouth.

He can't hold himself up any longer. He collapses on top of you. Warm skin against skin, heavy breathing, the stickiness on your thighs transferring to his own.

It's messy, so messy.

"Yeonjun." You call out for him after you both recover.

Yeonjun makes a muffled "hmm?" sound. He's still panting, taking deep whiffs of your scent.

"We need to clean up, Jun. Can you roll over? I'll get some towels."

He doesn't have the energy to protest and whine this time, he just rolls over, finally facing the ceiling and relaxing in the soft comfort of your bed. Yeonjun’s eyes are shut tightly, trying to remember the warmth of your skin, your pretty noises, your—

You close the door to your bedroom as you seek some towels. It snaps him out of his daydream. Yeonjun’s eyes open, and he’s in an empty room, an empty bed.

He doesn’t like feeling this way. He knows he can’t do this, can’t date you, can’t love you the way he wants to. It wasn’t what you both agreed on. It just wouldn’t be right.

Yeonjun doesn’t even know if he’s ready for that sort of commitment. He’s fucked around with people before you, yes, but he hasn’t had a serious relationship. The fact that his heart and mind yearn for you in ways that go beyond hookups terrifies him.

But now, all he wants to do is hold you, caress your skin, have your hair tickle his neck as he sets his head on top of yours, safe and secure in his arms. He wants your warmth to invade every crevice of his body, swallowing him whole in what he can only describe as love.

Yeonjun allows you to help clean him up when you come back. The warm, damp cloth leaving wet trails on his skin.

“Can you stay for breakfast, at least?” Yeonjun asks you. It surprises you a little— he hasn’t ever asked that before.

“That’s new. I can stay if you want to, but you know I have work.” You reply. Yeonjun sighs in response. “Oh, no. It’s okay. You shouldn’t be late to work.” He assures you, but maybe you’d be willing to, for him. He holds out hope that maybe you’d just stay.

“You’re so sweet, Jun. I might stay next time.”

Oh. Well, if not tonight, maybe next time. Waiting for the next time he gets to have you shouldn’t be so bad.

He’s lying. He’s desperate to have you stay, even if it’s the only time you’ll sleep in the same bed for a night.

“You know, I can cook. Used to cook for my friends when we went to the States. I made some damn good eggs. I can treat you to a good breakfast, promise.” Yeonjun offers. He’s certainly a sight, because he’s still very much naked aside for the fact theres a blanket covering his lower half. It flusters you a little. “I’m sure you’re great at it, Jun.” You sigh out.

“Seriously though, can you just stay? Just for tonight?” He pleads.

Yeonjun’s eyes were hopeful, glimmering while he waits for an answer. Your gaze softens, lips parting as you come up with a reply.

He’s cute. It wouldn’t hurt to stay. Wouldn’t break the… thing you both have going on.

“I’ll stay.”

Perhaps it was when you were wrapped in his arms, his comforter covering the both of you as your head rests against his chest, his heart beating against your ear, that you felt something more.

a/n: hi, im back. im sorry i haven’t wrote anything in a while, but my midterms have finished and i’ll be writing in a bit in october :) please accept this short drabble hehe

[kiarastromboli]

Teach me 5 (Chris Sturniolo x y/n)

Part.1 Part.2 Part.3 Part.4

Masterlist.

Warning: angst, mention of selfharm, arguing.

Summary: After a challenging party and a disagreement with her mother, Y/N finds herself alone, confronted by her darkest thoughts. She hits rock bottom, but something prevents her from taking irreversible actions.

Note: This part will address sensitive subjects such as depression and self-harm. If you're not comfortable with these topics, please do not read. I want to emphasize that my intention is not to romanticize distress or depression. If you're struggling and need help, there are people around you. My DMs are open for anyone who feels the need to talk. You are not alone. 🫶🏻

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

How could I be so stupid, even though my parents warned me about boys like Chris?

Liars, manipulators who can't control their desires and needs.

And I, like the naive and innocent little virgin I was, fell for it.

I fell for it, and I believed it for two years, believed it to the point of tearing my fucking heart out of my chest.

I can't believe I could be so damn foolish.

Is this what being blinded by love is like? Is this what it's supposed to mean?

Is that why they keep lecturing us teenagers that we don't know what real love is?

If he lied to me that night, then it means he lied to me every other night.

If he truly loved me as he claimed, he would never have dared to do such a thing to me.

How could he look me in the eyes and tell me all those bullshit while he was already dating another girl?

I thought he was honest and sincere; he had the same look as the first time he said 'I love you,' and now it all seemed like a fucking lie.

I knew that sleeping with him that night wasn't supposed to mean anything, and since we were supposed to remain friends, it's not the fact that he's with another girl that hurts me.

It's the fact that he lied to me, making me believe I was the only one in his heart.

I was warned about him; Julia told me to be careful, and even my father told me it was better if I went to the other end of the country to cut contact with him.

But I didn't want to believe all that because I was charmed by a few kisses and conversations that I thought were meaningful until now.

I wish it were just a lie, but that night, just before leaving Julia's party, I saw Tess and Chris kissing in the middle of the crowd, and I felt like I was going to die of heartbreak.

He was kissing her right here in front of everyone, which means he didn't even bother hiding it from me anymore.

Was it a way of getting back at me for what i did ?

Why did he make me believe he didn't hold a grudge against me? Why did he play with my fucking heart like that?

I was so ashamed that I didn't even bother explaining the situation to Julia; I went home and locked myself in my room.

Waking up this morning, I saw a ton of missed messages and calls from Julia. Shit, I didn't think to tell her I was leaving; she must have been worried...

In addition to feeling like shit because of Chris, I naturally had to wake up with a hangover.

I'm pathetic, this whole story is ridiculous.

"You came home very late last night; I thought you'd be back today," my mother said, arms crossed, upon seeing me enter the kitchen.

Great, now I'll have to face her, and judging by the expression on her face, I suspect our conversation won't be pleasant. That's just what was missing!

"I didn't feel very well last night; I preferred to come home," I told her, opening the kitchen cupboard to take a mug.

"Did you drink?" she asked, exhaling.

"Mom, I told you it was a party for my return, and-" I barely had time to finish justifying myself; she had already resumed speaking.

"I thought you had changed, that you had improved, but I see it's worse. How do you think your father will react to this, y/n?" she said, distressed.

I sighed before she could speak again. "Seriously, y/n, do you think it's an appropriate way for a young woman like you to behave? Have you thought about what people will think of us seeing you like this?"

"Damn, don't you ever get tired of bringing everything back to you?" I snapped, and she jumped at the sound of my raised voice.

"My whole fucking life, I played the role you wanted me to play, and I never complained!" I said, furious.

"You sent me to the other end of the country without even giving me a choice, forcing me to rebuild my life and leave the people I love!"

"Do you have any idea how challenging it is to be your daughter, Mom? Do you know what it's like to have this kind of education when you grow up around normal parents and teenagers?"

"Yes, I made some mistakes, and you never-" I paused, letting out a fake laugh. "Never failed to remind me!"

"But all the good things I've done, all the good grades, all the people I've helped, everything I've done to please you and help you, you've never commented on that," I said, disgusted.

"You never congratulated me; you never said you were proud of me. And no matter how much effort I put into it, I was never enough for you or Dad!"

"I hid behind this role of the perfect little girl. I hid all my pain and kept my head high, hoping that one day you would be proud. But the truth is, you'll never be because you don't love me. You love the girl I pretend to be, but you hate the girl I am!" I said before leaving the kitchen in tears to lock myself in my room again.

This day couldn't get any more horrible than it already was.

My mother tried knocking on my door, but I stayed there in my bed.

I didn't want to face her anymore; I didn't want to talk to her. It was already hard enough.

Why was my life so chaotic? Why don't I deserve happiness?

Why do things always have to get worse?

What did I do wrong to deserve this?

I didn't even know who I was and what I was supposed to be.

At that moment, I would have given anything to go back to the other end of the country, far from my parents.

But I knew that there, I would have given anything to come back to Boston, close to those I love.

I was lost and alone.

I had no one to share my pain with and no one to hug.

It turns out the only person I might have wanted to embrace was just a liar and an opportunist.

I wrapped myself in my blanket, closed the curtains, and turned off the lights.

I spent the day like that without moving a muscle.

Night came, bringing darkness with it.

Activity on the street outside my house diminished, giving way to silence.

My mother had given up and stopped knocking on my door.

My tears flowed and rested on my face until they turned cold.

I didn't know how long I had stayed like that, but I knew it was a long time.

I kept thinking about all the things I might have done wrong in my life.

I searched for the reason why everything was going so wrong.

Was it because I wasn't grateful enough to have a roof over my head?

Was it because I had been a spoiled child?

Was it because I didn't make enough effort?

Was it because I wasn't a good enough friend? Or a good enough daughter?

Was it because I am a bad person?

Am I a bad person?

Is it legitimate for me to feel this bad?

Am I not exaggerating?

After all, there are worse things in life, right?

People are dying out there, losing their loved ones, and I'm crying because a boy lied to me?

I'm crying because I'm just an unloved child?

A child who only wants to be recognized and appreciated.

What did I do wrong, damn it?

The more my thoughts chained together, the harder it became to breathe.

I had a weight in my chest, and I could feel it deep inside me.

I had cried so much that my sinuses hurt, and my eyes were swollen.

It was hard, so hard. What was I supposed to do?

How was I going to be able to continue living with this weight on my chest?

Dark and obscure thoughts took over my mind.

Thoughts that I was ashamed of, thoughts so awful that I couldn't bring myself to recount them to you.

I wanted to do something bad; I got up and grabbed the blade from my pencil sharpener on my desk.

And before I could reach my bed again, I was interrupted by my window opening.

I turned around in shock, falling face to face with Chris. Damn it, why did he always have to do that?

The blade slipped from my fingers and fell to the floor at that moment.

"Shit," I whispered, quickly bending down to retrieve it.

"What's this?" Chris asked, eyebrows furrowed, pointing at my closed hand.

"Chris, get out of my room right now," I told him sharply.

He scrutinized my face for a moment before speaking again. "Were you crying? Y/n, what's wrong? What are you hiding in your hand?" he asked, concerned.

"It's none of your fucking business. Just leave; I don't want you here!" I said, feeling anger rise again.

"Wow, I haven't done anything. Why are you talking to me like this? Seriously, I'm getting worried. What's going on?" he asked, confused, approaching me.

On reflex, I put the hand holding the blade behind my back when he reached my level, only making him more worried.

"Chris, I'm warning you; I'll call my parents if you don't leave my room now!" I panicked before he grabbed my arm.

"What are you hiding, Y/n? Open your hand!" he said, getting angrier and trying to open my hand.

"Chris, stop – let go of me, stop!" I said, succumbing and crying when he started overpowering me.

I tried to struggle, but he had much more strength than me. It didn't take him long to open my hand and find the blade.

His expression changed; he furrowed his eyebrows and looked up at me.

"What were you doing when I came into your room?" he asked, well aware of what my answer would be.

Tears started flowing again, and this time, I was filled with shame. I couldn't even bring myself to speak, so I just stood there, looking at him with teary eyes.

"Y/n," he said in a fragile voice.

"Why?" he asked, his gaze sad.

"Chris, I want you to leave," I told him amid my sobs.

"No, not until you explain why," he said, shaking his head.

I lifted my head before taking a deep breath to try and stop my tears.

"And why don't you explain your little story with Tess then!" I told him, changing the subject.

"Wait, are you serious, y/n? Don't change the subject," he said, completely confused.

"Chris, what I was about to do is none of your business anymore, not since the moment you lied to my face, making me believe I was special to you," I said, pushing him away.

"But what are you talking about, y/n? I never lied to you," he said, shaking his head.

"Then why didn't you tell me you were with her!" I raised my voice.

"What?" he said, even more confused.

"Chris, I want you to leave; I don't want to deal with this shit right now," I said, turning my back to him.

"Y/n, I'm not fucking dating her. Where did you get that idea?" he said, placing his hand on my shoulder, trying to turn me around.

"Why do you keep lying, Chris? She came to ask me to keep my distance from you, emphasizing that you two are together!" I told him, turning around and brushing his hand off my shoulder.

"Do you really believe that nonsense?" he said, furrowing his eyebrows.

"I saw you kissing her," I said, clenching my jaw and trying to hold back my tears.

He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again, taking a step back.

I sighed. "Damn it, Chris, you're such a jerk," I said, shaking my head.

"Y/n, it's not like that. It's really not what you think," he began to try and justify himself before I cut him off again.

"It's not what I think?" I said, raising my voice and eyebrows.

"Oh, so your tongue wasn't in her mouth?" I said, crossing my arms.

"Y/n, I know it can be misleading, but..." he began to try and explain before I cut him off again with a laugh.

"Misleading?! Chris, seriously?" I said, biting my lip.

"Please, let me explain, y/n," he said, grabbing my hands, but I didn't let him. I pulled back.

"I don't need you to explain, Chris; it's very fucking clear," I said, nodding my head.

"Y/n, please," he said desperately.

"Get out, Chris," I told him sharply.

He looked at me with furrowed eyebrows, not moving.

"For God's sake, just get the fuck out; I want you to leave!" I screamed, pushing him.

"I'm not going to leave you alone when you were about to hurt yourself, y/n. You can be as mad at me as you want, but I won't leave this room until I know you're safe," he said, standing his ground.

"Oh, now you're worried about me?!" I said, laughing.

"You're getting yourself worked up over nothing. I haven't done anything wrong, y/n," he said, looking me in the eyes.

"You'd rather believe some girl you don't even know over me. You won't even give me a chance to explain!" he said, waving his hands.

"Because I don't want to listen to another one of your lies, Chris. I'm too tired for that!" I told him, breaking into tears.

"But I'm not lying to you, y/n. Trust me!" he said, advancing towards me.

"I can't. I can't. I'm not strong enough for that. I don't want to take the risk of sinking even lower!" I confessed.

"Is it because of me that you were going to do that?" he said, pointing to the blade that now rested on my bedside table.

I looked at him, eyes soaked and throat tightened.

"Oh god," he whispered, running his hand over his face.

"I'm so sorry, y/n, if I made you believe I wasn't sincere, but all this is just a mistake. I'm not dating Tess," he said, taking my hands.

"I slept with her for a long time, okay, I won't lie to you. I was sleeping with her before we got together, and when you left, I turned to her right away," he began to explain, and I just listened.

"I was a jerk to her. I made her believe it could work between us to keep her under my control, even though I knew we would never be together," he said, and I could hear the disgust in his voice.

"When I got myself together, I stopped everything with her and tried to apologize, but she kept resenting me. She knew what you meant to me; that's why she didn't waste a second to come and tell you those lies," he said, and I sank down, sitting on my bed.

"Y/n, I'm not proud of what I did. She didn't deserve that, and it's not an excuse, but when you left, I was in such a bad place that I hurt anyone who came near me," he said, sitting next to me.

"I haven't lied to you once," he said, placing his hand on mine.

"I'm sorry, y/n, believe me, I really am. I didn't want you to end up like this. I should have told you that night, but I was too ashamed," he said, looking into my eyes.

"And why did you kiss her then?" I asked, wiping my tears.

"Because she threw herself at me; I was completely wasted. By the time I understood what was happening and detached her from my lips, there might have been enough time for you to see us. She probably waited until you were around to do it," he told me.

I looked at him without answering; I was hesitant. I didn't know if I should trust him or not.

"Y/n, I know it sounds far-fetched, but I swear it's true. You can ask anyone; I never dated her," he said, trying to be as convincing and reassuring as possible.

"Chris," I said, lowering my head, "I don't know if I'm supposed to believe you. I don't know if I should trust you or not."

"It's the truth, y/n, I swear. You can ask anyone. I would never do anything to hurt you," he said, squeezing my hand.

"I need time; I don't know what to think. I don't know if I should believe you or not,"

"I'll give you all the time you need," he said, nodding.

"You should rest; it's late, and you really look tired," he said, getting up.

"I'll take this with me," he said, picking up the blade from my bedside table before heading to my window.

"Chris!" I said before he left my room, and he turned around.

"Yes?" he replied.

"I don't want to be alone," I said, letting a tear fall, "Can you stay with me until I fall asleep, please?"

He took a deep breath, "Y-yeah, of course," he said, moving closer to me.

He grabbed the chair from my desk and placed it next to my bed before sitting down.

I slipped under the sheets of my bed, whispering to him, "Thank you, Chris."

"Don't thank me; it's the least I can do for you," he said with a weak smile.

Silence filled the room for a few seconds before I spoke again.

"It wasn't just because of you, you know?" I said in a weak voice.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, leaning towards me.

"I had a fight with my mom," I told him, and he nodded, signaling me to continue.

"And for the first time, I told her what I really had on my mind," I continued, sitting up against my headboard.

"I said things to her that I had never had the courage to say before, and when I went back to my room, everything hit me," I said, unable to control my voice, which occasionally broke.

"I found myself alone with my thoughts, and I started to wonder why all this was happening to me," I continued, waving my hands.

"I got lost in my own head; grief took over, and I felt this horrible weight on my chest," I said, letting a tear fall and placing my hand on my chest.

"It hurt, and I didn't know what I was supposed to do. My thoughts were screaming awful things at me, and I struggled to breathe; I felt suffocated," I said, shaking my head, and more tears began to stream down my cheeks.

"And for a brief moment, I thought that by inflicting physical pain on myself, it would get rid of all these bad thoughts," I said before biting my lip.

"I just wanted it to stop; I wanted to distract my mind. I didn't want to hurt myself, but it felt like the only solution," I said, trying to wipe away my tears.

"And now, looking back, I realize how stupid and awful it was. I don't know what came over me; it was like it was stronger than me," I added, hitting my mattress with my arm.

"I just wanted it to stop; I wanted to feel better," I said, shaking my head, and he took me into his arms.

I was so carried away by my emotions that I didn't even notice he was also crying.

"It's over now, y/n; I'm here, okay?" he said, holding me tightly.

"I'll chase away all those bad thoughts of your head for you if you want," he continued to say.

"It's going to be okay, I promise you," he said, gently stroking my head.

"I can't figure out what the hell is wrong with me," I told him, crying against his chest.

"I played a role for so long that I don't even know who I'm supposed to be," I said, clinging to his shirt.

"You're allowed to be lost; we all go through that. You'll eventually figure out who you really are; you just need to give yourself time," he reassured me.

"I know who you are, and I assure you that the person you are doesn't deserve to inflict so much pain on themselves," he continued to say.

"I just wanted to please them," I said, crying.

"Your parents?" he asked, and I nodded.

"If your parents don't love you for who you are, then they're really assholes. You deserve better than that," he said. I left his arms, wiping my tears.

"You're an amazing person, y/n, and it breaks my heart to hear you say that because you shouldn't have to beg for your parents' love, and it's just not fair," he said, caressing my cheek.

"In their place, I'd give you all the love in the world; in their place, I'd constantly tell you how proud I am of you because that's what you deserve," he said, looking into my eyes, and I couldn't help but cry.

"Thank you, Chris," I said, lowering my head.

"I'm sorry that life throws so much crap at you. If I could take away all the pain from your heart, believe me, I would," he said.

"But right now, what you need is to rest," he added.

"And I won't leave your room until you fall asleep, I promise. I'm here; you're not alone. I'm watching over you," he said, yawning.

"You're tired too," I said, smiling slightly.

"Yes, but I can wait," he said, returning a smile.

"You can sleep with me if you want," I told him.

"I don't know; won't your parents freak out?" he said, furrowing his brow.

"Not if you leave before they wake up tomorrow," I said, shrugging.

"Please, let me do this at least for you; you need to rest as much as I do," I added.

"Okay, um, do you want us to sleep in the same bed?" he asked timidly.

"You can sleep on the floor if you want, but it wouldn't be the first time you and I share a bed," I said, scratching my neck.

"Yeah, but the other times we shared a bed, y/n, it wasn't for sleeping," he said, rolling his eyes and chuckling.

"Do you think we wouldn't be able to share a bed without getting intimate?" I asked, crossing my arms.

"No, that's not what I meant. I—," he said, embarrassed, before I cut him off.

"It's okay; I'm joking. Stop being silly; come here," I said, lifting the blanket to signal him to lie down next to me, which he eventually did.

Silence filled the room, and it was a bit awkward. Chris kept tossing and turning, so I eventually spoke up, "Are you going to stop fidgeting around anytime soon?" I chuckled.

"Sorry, it's just really warm," he said, chuckling as well.

"Well, you can take off your sweater," I replied.

"Yeah, but I'm not wearing anything underneath," he said, embarrassed.

"Oh," I responded, "um, it doesn't bother me; you can take it off if you're more comfortable that way," I said, trying to play it cool.

"Are you sure?" he asked, looking into my eyes.

"Yeah, and besides, it's nothing new. I've seen you like this before," I said, feeling awkward, and he couldn't help but laugh as he took off his sweater.

"Why are you laughing ?" I asked, confused.

"Nothing; I just find this situation funny," he said, stopping his laughter.

"Oh, shut up!" I said, giving him a punch on the shoulder, and we both burst into laughter.

"I never told you, but I really love your laugh, you know?" he said without thinking, making me blush.

"Ah yeah?" I responded, embarrassed, but this time not for the same reason.

"Yeah, I find it soothing," he said, smiling.

Another silence fell. We were face to face, looking at each other without touching, as if there was a vast space between us, almost like we were afraid to make contact.

"I love your eyes," I said without really knowing where I was going with it.

"Why?" he whispered.

"When I look into them, I feel like I'm the only person on Earth," I replied, letting my heart speak.

"It's because you are the only person who truly exists in my eyes," he replied shyly.

Another silence.

"I love your lips," he said.

"I love your nose," I replied.

"I love your hips," he continued, and I could feel the tension building.

"I love your arms," I responded, quickening my breath.

"I love your hands," he replied, placing his hand on mine.

"I love your back," I said, gradually moving closer to him.

"Y/n..." he whispered, his lips just a few millimeters from mine.

"Chris," I responded, my eyes fixed on his lips.

"I love you entirely," he said in an almost inaudible voice before closing the distance between our lips.

I grabbed his collar, pulling him closer without parting our lips. Our kiss deepened, our breaths mingling, and the room's temperature became unbearable.

"Y/n, we can't," he said, separating our lips, my right hand still on his cheek.

"I know," I whispered.

He laid back next to me.

"I love you entirely too," I said, turning my head toward him, tears in my eyes.

Silence, again.

"Maybe in another universe, we got to have our story," he said, staring at the ceiling.

"I wish we were in another universe," I responded, gazing at the ceiling as well.

"Do you think in the one we are, we'll never get to have our story?" I asked him, and he turned his head to look at me.

"I don't know," he said, sighing. "All I know is that in this universe, the girl I love leaves at the end of the vacation," he added.

"I wish things were different," I said.

"I know, me too," he replied.

"Can I fall asleep in your arms?" I asked, letting a tear fall.

He didn't respond, just opened his arms for me to snuggle against his chest, which I did.

"Good night, my angel," he whispered.

"Good night, my love," I replied.

I couldn't help but shed a few tears before closing my eyes and finally managing to find sleep.

Taglist: @chrisloyalgf @christopherscamopants @blahbel668 @thematthewlover @mattsturnioloarchive @carolinalikesthings @bernardsgf @whicked-hazlatwhore @hearts4chris @mattybsbitch @sara2233445

[pablitogavii]

Heyy can u do something about gavi's ear because of the match ? like the reader takes care of him something like that please 💗

Quiet times together

When you saw the video of Pablo's bleeding ear on the overhead TV, you really freaked out getting off the chair in the box and peeking through the window to see the doctor cleaning up hi wound.

"I can't believe that wasn't a red card!" your friend said but you could really care less about any of that praying that Pablo isn't seriously hurt.

When the game was over, you couldn't wait to see him very nervous to look at his new injury. When he finished his interviews, he came to the family room and you rushed to give him a quick hug.

"No..no..don't cry princesa! We won and I'm gonna be okay!" he said holding your face and drying your tears but your eyes were glued on his stapled ear and dried blood around it.

"I got really scared Pablo!" you say and he smiled pulling you closer and kissing the top of your head lovingly.

When you pulled away and he took you to grab his clothes together, team doctor called you to say about possible sensitivity Pablo might feel for a couple of days after the pain medication he took stops working.

"Avoid any loud places for at least a week. You might feel a little dizzy if you push against your sensitivity" man explained and you took in every word promising yourself that Pablo will take it easy no matter what he says.

"Thanks doc! Ready for our date princesa??" Pablo said after grabbing his bag and you remembered the restaurant date you planned before the game this morning.

"There will be live music there Pablo, and I don't think we should do it..we can have takeout at home instead?" you suggest which of course made him whine and say how he wanted to treat you.

"And you will treat me..we are going to get comfortable and order our favorite Chinese food and watch some goofy movie together?" you say placing your hand on his face careful not to touch his wound and he smiled nodding his head while kissing your lips lovingly.

"And cuddles???" he asks adorably which made his friends tease him as they passed us but he didn't care at all. I pointed kissing his lips once more time while nodding my head.

"All the cuddles you can take mi valiente ganador!" you say and he giggled nodding his head while taking your hand walking towards the cars where you left with your friend and he took the bus with his teammates.

"Please make sure he wears these on silent mode while at the bus if it gets loud?" you said to Balde who promised on his life to take care of your boy all the way back home to Barcelona.

"There is nothing to worry about princesita mia" Pablo kissed your lips one more time before you two went separate ways but no matter what you will always worry about his health.

When you arrived home, the pain medication definitely stopped working since even your little louder greeting made his face cringe in pain. You puled him closer whispering a soft apology while kissing the side of his temple.

"I ordered the food amor. And made sure TV is on the lowest volume for the move..you want to shower?" you say and he nods clearly in a lot of pain and your heart hurt to see him like that.

When he got comfortable sitting on the sofa with your, the loud ring-bell made you both jump and him cover both of his ears in pain.

"Mierda! I got it amor! I'm so sorry!" you say but he whispers that it's alright as you went and grabbed the food from the delivery guy.

"I'm sorry we didn't go on our date amor.." Pablo was whispering while eating some rice and chicken and you smiled moving closer and kissing his shoulder.

"Don't worry about it..I would much rather be here with you anyway and I love taking care of you" you say and he blushed a little yawning and even a slight pull on the stitches made his wound sour.

"Could I lay on your chest tonight?" he asks and you smile widely nodding your head before taking his hand and walking to the bedroom seeing that he was done with his food anyways.

You both laid down and he laid his head on your chest while you placed your hand on his face caressing it gently while kissing the side of his sour temple. He smiled closing his eyes feeling so good that he didn't care about the pain coming from his ear. He nuzzled his head into your neck and completely relaxed. (gif).

"It's buzzing amooor.." Pablo whined and you told him to focus on the sound of your heartbeat instead and to try to get some well deserved rest tonight.

"Talk to me...I like listening to your voice princesa" he says and you blush a little thinking of things to say to the sleepy boy.

"I was so proud of you today Pablito..you wouldn't give up no matter what..you went back into the game and you played till the end. You're the strongest man I've ever met..my strongest man" you whisper and he listened carefully blushing at the compliment and holding onto your tightly while slowly becoming more sleepy.

"And I love you..su much cariño. Whenever I see you get hurt my heart hurts..and I just want to hold you in my arms and protect you from everything..because..you..are..my..life" you say feeling yourself getting emotional and Pablo looked up kissing your lips softly before laying back down on your chest.

"I love you too preciosa..more than I've ever loved anybody..mi vida" he spoke sleepily before finally slipping into unconsciousness and you smiled kissing the top of his head continuing to play with his hair until you also grew tired and fell asleep holding him in your arms.

y.n.bebe

Barcelona, Spain

I'm not letting anybody hurt you mi bebé ❤️ tagged: pablogavi

comentarios:

pablogavi: gracias por todo amore mio ❤️❤️

y.n.bebe: siempre amorcito❤️❤️

gaviraafanzz: omg! she's so cute! take good care of him girl!!

barcafanclubs: clown for not giving that guy a red card!

fcbarcelona: our warrior.❤️

pablogavi: ❤️

pedri: come back stronger hermanito mio!

pablogavi: si hermano!

mikkykiemeney: so cute! 🥰

y.n.bebe: 😊

aurorapaezg: ❤️

y.n.bebe:❤️❤️

He is a true warrior! What STRENGHT, LOVE and DEDICATION for the club! That's our GAVI! ❤️❤️❤️

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

Not Like This

din djarin x female!reader

warnings: angst, angst, angst, angst. if you're looking to feel better after chapter 23 this is not gonna do it. canon violence, mentions of blood and injury, threats of death.

word count: 1,368

summary: chapter 23 of the mandalorian happened, and you had a front row seat.

SPOILERS BELOW THIS CUT.

.

"when i can't sleep at night⏤ i stare at the empty side of my bed, and wonder about the things i would tell you, if you were lying next to me." ⏤A.S.

.

Not like this. Not like this. Not like this. Your heart was racing in your chest, and with every painful beat the words echoed through your skull. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. The fingers wrapped around the back of your neck squeezed hard enough that you knew there would be bruises left in their wake⏤ you could feel his nails digging into your flesh⏤ but the pain wasn’t registering. Not yet. Not when fear and panic suffocated you in a haze the way it did. All you could feel was the heavy weight of Din’s gaze under his helmet. He was reassuring you. Din was restricted in whip cords, brought down to his knees by Imperials, weapons carelessly cast aside, and he was reassuring you in the familiar comfort of Mando’a. 

It’s going to be okay, cyar'ika.

No. No, it wasn’t. Moff Gideon’s laugh in your ear told you it wasn’t.

Don’t cry. We'll get out of this.

Were you crying? You couldn’t even tell⏤ you were numb and frozen in shock. This couldn’t be happening.

You’re going to fine. I swear it, cyar'ika. I won’t let them hurt you.

You didn’t care. Your own safety was dangerously low on your list of priorities. If it meant Din got to walk away safely you’d do anything. Literally anything. 

Listen to him. It’s alright. Just do it. He’s going to hurt you if you don’t.

No. You couldn’t. Not like this. Din and you had been side by side for years now. Partners in every aspect. It started with bounty hunting. Then, when Grogu came into the picture it turned into running from the Empire. Searching for the child’s home. The nature of your jobs continued to change and alter, but the love between you both had never faltered. It grew and grew and grew until it could be contained no longer. For three years you had been his partner in crime, but only for the last six months had you been his lover. 

“Take his helmet off. Now.” Moff Gideon growled low in your ear. Seething in rage at how long this was taking, but not enough to just walk away or do it himself. The bastard knew the weight of this and you knew it was why he wanted you to be the one to break Din’s creed in such a violent manner.

You shook your head again⏤ hands curled into tight fists at your side. No one took the Creed more seriously than Din, but you were a close second. It became a habit for you, living with him, and keeping your eyes away from him in moments when he needed to shed the helmet. Even when he removed it for Grogu, you averted your gaze. Din asked once why you hadn’t just looked when you had a chance, and you told him it was because you respected his beliefs and you wanted to do it right. 

And, Din said you would. He swore that when the fight was done, when he finished helping Bo Katan reclaim Mandalore, all three of you would settle. Din would find a safe place for you, him, and Grogu. A place where you could share vows then remove his helmet, creed intact. Somewhere quiet and warm. Somewhere he didn’t have to wear an ounce of beskar on his skin and you could spend the entire night memorizing every detail of him. You had spent countless nights dreaming of that soft moment to come.

Not like this. Not like this. Not like this.

Moff Gideon, impatient and eager for his enemies’ downfall, lifted his hand from the back of your neck to tangle in your hair then he yanked your head back. A cry of pain tore through you as Din lashed out in anger⏤ trying to loosen the Imperials’ hold.

“Take his helmet off or I slit his throat and let his blood pool at your feet.”

He shoved you forward, hand falling away from you, and a sob left your lips. Trembling violently, your hands reached out to settle on either side of the silver beskar helmet you associated with adoration. You loved this man, yet here you were about to forcefully tear a piece of him away.

“It’s alright.” Din whispered. His hoarse, modulated voice making you cry harder. “Do it. It’s not your fault. I want you to do this.” Your bottom lip quivered and you bit down on it hard enough to draw blood. “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, cyar’ika.”

With a sharp breath, you lifted his helmet and squeezed your eyes shut. Maybe he wouldn’t notice that you weren’t looking. Moff Gideon could make you break Din’s creed, and maybe keeping your eyes shut now was more a nuance than anything else, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Even when the logical voice at the back of your mind told you that Din could redeem himself once more⏤ if the two of you just got out of this alive it would be alright⏤ you couldn’t do it. Redemption or not, this moment would be gone. You couldn’t unsee his face. An Imperial barked out a sound, and Moff Gideon’s hands were on you once more.

“Don’t touch her!” Din yelled.

Moff Gideon strangled you now, his hand wrapped around the front tight enough to steal your breath, “One last choice, you stupid, stubborn girl. Open your eyes and look at the once Mandalorian or I’ll make sure you never see anything again.”

“Look at me. Look at me!” Din roared, you could hear him struggling against his captors again. “Cyar’ika, please. Please look at me.” He pleaded⏤ begged. “Open your eyes for me, please.”

Broken at the anguish in his voice, you opened your eyes and Moff Gideon made sure you faced your Mandalorian. And, there he was. The man you loved. Sweat made strands of his brown hair cling to his forehead while the rest sat a mess on top of his head from where you pulled his helmet off. Scruff along his jaw that you had felt, but never seen. And his eyes⏤ Din’s eyes were the softest shade of brown and the emotions that swirled in his gaze was enough to knock the wind from you. Panic, fear, anger, anguish, but there was also love. So much love and adoration that it made another sob slip from your lips. You wanted to touch him⏤ to tell him how beautiful he was while your fingers traced every line of his face. 

Your hand lifted to him, but you were suddenly yanked back so he was just out of reach.

“Take him to the debriefing room.” Moff Gideon commanded and the Imperials began to drag him away. You screamed out to Din, trying to lunge toward him, but Moff Gideon kept a tight grip on your arm locking you in place. In all your focus on watching Din get dragged away, you hadn’t noticed a weapon being drawn⏤ not until the vibroblade pierced your side.

“No!” Din’s scream seemed to rattle the room. You collapsed and clutched your side to try and stem the bleeding that would not stop. It gushed through your fingers painting your clothes and the floor red. Din was thrashing in the arms of the Imperials who carried him off and the last look on Din’s face that you got to see was blinding rage. Then he was out of sight.

You laid your head on the ground⏤ eyes growing heavy. Moff Gideon was addressing the other Mandalorians trapped behind the doors, but sound was slipping away and all you could focus on was the silver beskar helmet lying discarded on the floor beside you. The t-shape visor stared back at you almost mockingly. This was nearly how your day started. Lying on a too small cot with Din pressed to your side in full armor. Soft snores escaping from his modulator while you stared at your reflection in the visor and imagined the day you’d get to fall asleep next to him sans beskar.

Not like this. Not like this.

Blaster fire filled the air and you let your eyes drift close.

Not like this.

[next part]

[lanadelnegan]

My Past, My Future - Part 5 (Final part)

Negan x Reader x Daryl

part four here / part one here

Warnings: 18+, smut, angst

Note: I'm sorry this took so long for me to post. Been kinda out of it lately, but probably gonna start posting regularly again.

Red = Negan / Blue = Daryl / Pink - Reader

"Negan..." Your jaw lowers slightly in disbelief as you look up into his tired eyes. Before your brain has time to stop you, you lunge forward, wrapping your arms around his neck and inhaling the familiar smell of him. "God I am so glad you're okay." A tear falls from your cheek as he nuzzles his face into the side of your neck and holds you tight.

Pulling back slightly after a moment too long, you clear your throat awkwardly and drop your hands to your sides. You quickly wipe the tear slipping down your cheek as Negan tilts his head at you empathetically. "Baby.."

"No..." You shake your head, remembering how Negan left you - alone and worried to death. "Negan, I - I don't understand. Why? Why did you leave?" You ramble, letting the hurt and anger wash over you all over again. "I looked for you for three weeks straight. I didn't eat.. didn't sleep.. just cried until I couldn't anymore."

"I saw you two.. kissing.. I thought -"

"You thought wrong, Negan. I wanted it to be you. I told Daryl that after the kiss. I came back to Alexandria that night to tell you, and you - you were gone. How could you do that to me? Just leave and not even look back like I never meant anything to you?"

"C'mon, You know that's not true... Was I supposed to just stay there and fuckin' watch you be with him?!"

Before you can respond, the front door swings open behind you and Daryl quickly appears at your side, wrapping his arm protectively around your waist.

Negan scoffs, glancing down at Daryl's hand gripping you possessively. "Seriously? You two are a thing now, huh? And you expect me to believe you were gonna fuckin' choose me?"

"Believe what you want. It's the truth. Not that it matters anymore. You left. You made your decision."

"Yeah." Negan nods. "I guess you did too."

"You dunno what the hell you're talkin' about. Got no right to talk to her like that when you just up and left." Daryl's jaw clenches as he glares at Negan.

"Seems like it worked out for you. I dunno why you're fuckin' complainin'."

"Cuz I'm not selfish. I wanted her to by happy."

"And I'm selfish? For leaving behind the love of my fucking life just so I wouldn't get in the way of her and another man!? If anyone's selfish it's you! Throwing a fit because the girl you were too scared to admit your feelings to wanted me and not you."

You grab Daryl's wrist, pulling him back as he lunges forward at Negan. "Enough! This is too much. I can't - I can't deal with this right now." You cry as both men reach out to comfort you.

Negan lets out a long sigh. "Look, it's getting dark. And I know you're tired. Let's call it a night and sort this out tomorrow."

Daryl hesitantly nods, accepting Negan's offer when you look to him for an answer and you both follow Negan into the house. It's old and wooden and Negan's smell fills the air. Your heart aches at the thought of Negan here by himself all this time... he is here by himself right?

"Do you.. live here alone?" You ask, looking around for any signs of other company.

"Nah. Girlfriend should be back any minute."

You roll your eyes at the teasing tone of his voice, trying to hide your smile when he winks at you.

"Hungry?" He points behind himself to the kitchen.

"No.. thanks. Just tired."

"You two can take the bedroom.. I'll sleep out here on the couch. Just let me clean up and change first." Negan says before heading to his bedroom. "Make yourselves at home." He calls out before shutting his door.

Six months ago you were confessing your love for each other and having sex on your couch. Now he's offering up his bed to you and another man? Daryl rests his hand on your lower back and you turn around to hug him, laying your head on his chest.

"Daryl.. I want you to know you have nothing to worry about. We'll leave in the morning."

"Not worried." He reassures you by planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. He knows he is, but the last thing he wants is to put more stress and pressure on you right now.

Negan enters the room again, announcing his presence with an awkward clearing of his throat. "Room's ready. Changed the sheets."

Daryl leads the way, bumping past Negan rudely as he disappears into the master bathroom. You walk past Negan, brushing your hand against his before he gently wraps his hand around your wrist and looks down at you. "The idea of you in my bed with another man fucking infuriates me. Everything I do.. everything I did.. was for your happiness. Not mine... Just so you know." His hazel eyes fall to your lips for a moment before he slowly looks back up into your eyes. You restrain yourself from kissing him, remembering the way his soft lips felt against yours as his stubble pricked at your face. You can't deny you miss kissing him. Having long deep conversations with him.. Fucking him. All your memories together flow through your mind as you stare up at him.

"Are you happy with him, y/n?" Negan's eyes dart back and forth between yours.

"...Yes."

"Good..." He nods before walking away and you watch him sink to the couch as you enter his bedroom. You find Daryl already laying in bed and immediately climb in the bed behind him to comfort him. You know this must be difficult for him. You nuzzle your face into the back of his neck. "Baby.. I told you not to worry."

He doesn't say anything as you run your fingers comfortingly through his thick strands of hair. "I love you, Daryl."

"You love him too." He says matter-of-factly.

You don't respond, knowing you'd be lying if you tried to argue with him. So instead, you wrap your arm around him and settle into the sheets. The pillowcase smells like Negan as you shut your eyes and drift off quickly, dreaming of a world where you don't have to choose between the two men you'd die for.

As soon as Daryl hears your light snore, he slips out of bed, quietly finding his way into the living room where Negan is wide awake on the couch staring at the ceiling.

"We need to talk."

Negan's chest rises and falls as he lets out a long sigh. "Nothin' to say."

"Oh.. now you wanna stay quiet?"

"Now you wanna fuckin' talk?"

Daryl ignores Negan's comeback, sitting in a chair across from the couch. A long moment passes before Daryl finally speaks again.

"I know you love y/n. I know you've changed. But I'll never forget what you've done. When we came back to Alexandria and realized you were gone... I hoped you'd never come back."

Negan huffs, leaning back further into the couch before Daryl continues.

"Until I saw how much it broke her. She wouldn't eat. Wouldn't sleep. Unless I made her. Was so worried about her I couldn't let her outta my sight. You did that to her."

Negan gulps down, fighting back tears as he hears how much he hurt you.

"And for some stupid reason.. she still loves you."

Negan scoffs, shaking his head slightly before gazing back up at the ceiling. "...When Lucille passed, I knew I wouldn't be able to love anyone the way I loved her. Lucille was.. my everything. Hell, named a fuckin' baseball bat after her just so I wouldn't have to say goodbye... You know where that bat is now?"

Daryl grunts, waiting for Negan's answer. Negan's head nods towards the fireplace, as they watch the wood crack underneath the flames for awhile.

"I said goodbye to Lucille that day because I finally found someone I could be happy with again... When I made the decision to leave, that was for y/n. Not for me. I knew you'd be there to take my place, and I thought that's what she fuckin' wanted. But me? I didn't eat either. Didn't sleep. Worried about her every day. Still fuckin' do."

Daryl's head drops forward as his elbows rest on his knees, carefully taking in Negan's words.

"She misses you."

"Why are you tellin' me this?"

"Cause I want the same thing as you. Just want her to be happy."

"So what? You're.. giving her back to me?" Negan's head shakes sarcastically, mocking the idea.

"In your dreams.... What I'm sayin' is, we love her and she loves us. Why make her choose?"

Negan's nose scrunches as he looks to Daryl, sitting up now and leaning forward. "Wait, wait, wait. You're not serious. Are you seriously suggesting a... throuple?"

"Nah. I ain't gay." Daryl grunts. "It's not about me and you. Just her."

"Too bad. Thought you were finally comin' around." Negan raises his brows suggestively, making Daryl stand and roll his eyes annoyed. He stops at the bedroom door, looking back to Negan expectantly. "You comin'?"

They both quietly enter the bedroom and slide in bed on either side of you. Still asleep, you snuggle against the warm body in front of you, roaming your hand along his stomach before stopping suddenly, realizing it's not Daryl. Your eyes jolt open to meet Negan's gaze in the dim lit room as he smirks down at you.

"Wha-"

"It's okay, babe." Daryl whispers in your ear from behind.

"You still love me, baby?" Negan asks, tilting your chin up and hovering his lips over yours.

You answer him by pressing your lips to his, closing the small gap. You can't help the involuntary moan that escapes your mouth as you taste him again for the first time in so long.

Negan's hand cups the back of your neck, bringing you closer as he deepens the kiss and flicks his tongue against yours. His mouth opens slightly as a throaty groan escapes and you almost whimper at how turned on you are. Finally turning your attention to Daryl behind you, your arm reaches behind you to grip his hair and pull him in for a kiss. He kisses you back hungrily as his rough hand glides down the side of your body, tracing your curves before reaching your ass and firmly squeezing.

After a moment, you pull away from his mouth to adjust yourself, leaning up for a moment to remove your shirt and bra before laying flat on your back between the two of them.

You stare vacantly at the ceiling, blinking a few times as you attempt to wake yourself from the obvious dream you must be having. But to no avail, your men remain pressed against your body as they nip at your skin and tease you with their fingers.

Shifting lower in the bed, they both take a hardened nipple into their mouth, making your head push into the pillow below you as you bite your lip to suppress your moan.

Negan flicks his tongue lightly over the sensitive bud, while Daryl's lips suction around the other, sucking over and over. You can't hide your noises anymore as you let them hear what they are doing to you. "Ohh my god. Fuck... that feels good."

Negan grins, letting his teeth gently squeeze your nipple before lowering his hand. He easily pops open the button on your jeans before roughly pushing them down your legs. Daryl raises to his knees, helping you get your pants and underwear off your ankles until you're completely bare in front of them.

You've been with them both one on one on multiple occasions, but this feels.. much more intense with both of them at the same time.

As Daryl bends down, getting ready to position himself to eat your pussy, Negan stops him. "Look man, not tryna be selfish here. But I've been deprived of that pussy for way too long. So please, allow me." He pleads.

Daryl glares at Negan for a moment before finally moving out of his way and letting him devour your cunt. Negan's face is buried between your legs the second Daryl gives him the go ahead and your jaw lowers as you make an o-shape with your lips at how good his mouth feels. His stubble tickles your inner thighs while his tongue repeatedly flicks deep inside of you.

"Fuck!" He comes up for air, before pressing his nose to your hole and inhaling the smell of you. "Goddamn I missed this sweet pussy."

"Move." Daryl demands, taking Negan's place and tossing your legs over his shoulders. His fingers spread your pussy lips apart, allowing him better access to your clit and sucking it harshly, urging you to orgasm.

Your gaze is focused on Negan as he stands by the bed, quickly discarding his clothes.

"Daryl!" You moan his name as your orgasm rushes through you, letting your eyes stay locked on Negan's, hoping to bring out his possessive side. A smirk appears on Negan's face as he chuckles darkly, knowing you're trying to make him jealous.

Just as Daryl comes up for air, wiping your juices from his chin, the bed dips as Negan crawls over you, taking your lips in his.

"You tryin' to tease me, baby? Cause it's fuckin' working."

He kisses you rhythmically before pulling on your lower lip with teeth and grinning at you. While you're busy locking tongues with Negan, Daryl positions himself on his back beside you. "Come mere baby. Need you."

You roll over on top of Daryl, letting your knees rest on either side of him as you hover your wet opening over his hard length and slide down slowly and completely, filling your cunt to the brim as your head falls back in pleasure.

Negan settles in behind you, bumping his hard cock against your ass. His hand wraps around your long strands of hair as he pulls, bringing your head back further and exposing the front of your neck.

Chills run down your spine when Negan whispers throatily in your ear. "Think you can take us both sweetheart?"

You answer him with a frantic nod and he chuckles, biting at the sensitive spot behind your ear and making chills spread over your arms.

"Fuck. Bend over him. Now." Negan grunts, pushing your back until you're laying over Daryl with his cock still inside you.

Negan's hand spreads one of your ass cheeks as he leans back slightly, watching you slide up and down on Daryl's cock. "Goddamn. You are creaming all over his fuckin' dick, darlin'." Negan's thumb reaches out, gathering a line of your juices from Daryl's shaft and bringing it to his mouth. He groans at the taste, eyes rolling in the back of his head as he sucks his own thumb. "Fuck." He whispers, dropping his thumb to your tight asshole now and circling it slowly. "Where do you want me baby?" He asks, pushing this thumb through your tightness. You cry out at the unfamiliar feeling.

"In.. in my pussy." You whine.

"Yeah? Such a big girl, so confident that you can take two big cocks in your little cunt at the same time." Negan chuckles darkly, pulling his finger out of your ass and rubbing his tip through your folds from behind as Daryl's breathes loud and heavy while you ride him.

Negan's hand grips your waist tightly, holding you in place as he guides his cock to your already filled hole. He slides his tip along Daryl's length before ultimately pushing through and burying himself deep inside you. Daryl grunts, adjusting slightly at the feeling of Negan's dick against his own.

You cry out as your walls are stretched further than they've ever been, and the thought of your men rubbing their cocks together inside of you makes your stomach flutter.

"Oh my goddd." You cry, overwhelmed at the intensity of being so full. Not only are your walls stretched to their limit, but both of them are painfully deep. Pressure and heat build in your abdomen as you feel yourself embarrassingly close to coming already.

“Holy shit, feels so fuckin’ good.” Negan whimpers, dropping his head back heavily as he thrusts into you.

Daryl’s jaw clenches as he stares up at you through glazed over eyes. “Is it too much babe? Tell us to stop if you need-“

“No. Please. Please don’t stop.” You beg, crashing your lips against Daryl’s as you moan into his mouth. Negan brings his hand down roughly, smacking your ass cheek and making you yelp into Daryl’s mouth.

Negan grunts, grabbing the back of your hair possessively and pulling your back against his chest. Your head turns as he kisses your lips sloppily from the side, bringing his hand around to wrap firmly around your throat as his throaty whisper flows in your ear. “I might be willing to share, but kissing another man when I’m balls deep in this cunt? Not gonna fuckin’ happen, doll.”

From this angle, one of their tips press repeatedly into just the right spot, making your cheeks burn hot. And Negan’s filthy words are just what you need to send you over the edge.

"Daryl! ... Negan! Fuuuck." You scream out, feeling warm liquid rush out of you. Both men groan at the feeling of you soaking their cocks as Negan's moans become faster and louder and Daryl grows quieter - an indicator that he's close.

"Come in me..Please.” You breathe out.

"Who?" Both men say in unison.

"..Both."

"Can't hold it anymore. I'm comin' baby. I'm fuckin' coming. Ahhh, fuuuuck." He lets out a long groan, spilling deep inside of you.

Daryl groans at the intense feeling of yours and Negan’s warm liquids surrounding his cock. He bites his bottom lip as he shoots his load in you, following each pulse of his dick with a mix of raspy whimpers and moans.

Negan slides out of you as you lift yourself off Daryl, falling to the bed next to him. When Negan joins you on the other side, you lace your fingers in both of their hands as you lay there out of breath.

"What the hell just happened?" You chuckle, not able to hide the ridiculous smile on your face.

"We don't wanna make you choose. Just want you to be happy. If you want us both, you've got us."

"But.. that's.."

Negan leans in, kissing your cheek before settling into the sheets and closing his eyes. "There's no rules in the apocalypse, baby. Shoulda learned that a long time ago."

tagging my babies: @loganlostitall @chaospossum @negansbabydoll66 @redqueenphoenix @n3g5nx @crustyweirdo @youngpersonaathletebear @sadgirlzluvdilfs @ilovebill-and-gustav @neganscumbucket @manipulatorpoem @im-a-goddamn-cat @raininhell @mahogany-cherry-wine @daryldixmedown@munsonslovergirl @sanctuaryforthelost @thelauraborealis @carlgrimesbbg @c3linesworld @blueheisenbergtragedy @dekuumademecumm @midnight-dixon @arthi-s

[abiiors]

so you're tired 🥀 // ross macdonald x reader

in which he doesn't exactly cheat but it hurts just the same a/n: this is loosely based on so you're tired by sufjan stevens, one of my fav songs atm!!! (can't wait for javelin) cw: very brief mentions of smut, arguments and yelling because well, this is just angst :( wc: 2k

the first time you fight—seriously fight—you don’t talk to him for three days. 

it’s the longest either of you have gone without talking to each other. he’s barely home for two more weeks before tour starts again and yet here you are, waking up to a cold bed every single day and roaming around like ghosts in a cold house. three days where you don’t come home to him humming softly in your kitchen while cooking you your favourite meals. three days of utter silence before one of you cracks. 

towards the end of it, none of you remember what the fight was about, only that you feel a hollow ache in your chest every night you don’t go to sleep cuddled up in his arms. you don’t remember who cracks first—all you remember are whispered apologies on each other’s skin and kisses that taste of tears. 

“i am wasting precious time with you,” he says, his face buried deep in the crook of your neck, holding you so close as if you might slip away from right between his fingers. 

“let’s forget about it, love,” you stroke his head, “let’s just move on. we have time…”

and it’s true isn’t it? you have all the time in the world. so what if he’s going away again? he will come home to you eventually…

so you smile and melt into his kiss. the next few days pass in a flurry of half-hearted joy and trepidation but ross is there, hugging you unexpectedly and playing with your hair till you fall asleep. ross is there to waltz you around the kitchen and make you your favourite meals. and the fight seems long forgotten, all the feelings of anxiety and lonliness burried deep down…

until they bubble up the night before he has to leave. 

“you always promise,” his voice rises with each word, “it’s always the same. and i always believe you like a fucking idiot.” he’s back on the same topic again, yelling about the same things you were two weeks ago but this conversation is going nowhere. 

“jesus christ, ross! i have a job you know!” you yell back, watching his face grow angrier. “can’t just drop everything and come travel the world with you.”

“you’re acting like i am asking you to run away with me!”

“that’s exactly—”

“no it’s not! stop putting words in my mouth,” he finally snaps, breathing heavily while standing in the midst of clothes strewn on the ground. a half-full suitcase sits by his feet with its maw wide open. “i told you, no. i asked you months ago if you would take some time off to come with me. fuck i was even fine if you brought work with you—”

“and it’s just not possible—”

“it’s never fucking possible!” he yells. “you never know how much i fucking miss you when i am gone.”

you defensively cross your arms in front of your chest, shivering slightly against the chill in the room. it’s been so rainy and gloomy all day, ironically the perfect ambiance for your fight that just seems so final. 

“ross, you’re acting like i don’t miss you at all!” “no…” he speaks quietly. you stand there like a statue, watching him gather his things and stuff them in the suitcase. when he zips it shut, it might as well be the loudest sound in the world. “you’re the one acting like that.”

and with that ross is gone, sidestepping you so easily that you might as well have not existed at all. just a ghost in your room, staring at the floor where his things were just moments ago, now all that remains is the echo of the door slamming shut behind him. 

you don’t know where ross goes that night. maybe over to matty’s or directly at the airport to spend the night sleeping on the bench. 

maybe he thinks it’s better to spend the night cold and uncomfortable and alone than to share the warm bed with you. 

maybe he thinks he’s better off alone entirely. 

you don’t try to call him. you just curl up on the bed, on his side of it, and let your sobs put you to sleep. 

blink and three more days go by. another three days of not talking, of radio silence. in that time, all the updates you get about him are concert photos and fan edits. he looks sad in them, quiet and reserved, yet they don’t know him as well as you do. they just think he’s tired from the  jetlag. a good night’s sleep will fix everything for him. 

they don’t know that a good night’s sleep comes only when he’s with you. 

this time it’s you who cracks first, calling him practically in the middle of the night with a thudding heart. on the brink of a panic attack. 

his voice is sleep-filled and his eyes bleary. you feel bad for calling him like this but he asks you to stay, asks you if you can talk. 

“i overreacted,” he sighs, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “i shouldn’t have…”

“no, ross. i should apologise, you weren’t… you weren’t wrong.”

his face perks up at those words. and your heart sinks deeper into your stomach. so, like a heartless bitch, you give him momentary hope and soothe him with sweet words until he asks the inevitable question. 

“so… are you coming?”

things can only go downhill from there and all you can do is scrunch your eyes shut let a few tears of regret roll down your cheeks. 

you’re certain this fight is worse than the last one. at least, the last time he was physically here. a tangible presence. now it’s just you, alone in your room with your sharp voice echoing all around you. drowning you in shame. 

this time when he argues, he’s eerily calm, not a single emotion in his voice or in his eyes and that’s how you know it’s really the end. 

that’s how you know his goodbye is final. 

when the “we are done” text pings on your phone at 2:15 am, you sob so hard you almost get sick on your bedroom carpet, only managing to run to the toilet at the last minute. 

you sob so hard that the warmth zaps right out of you and into the bathroom floor which remains just as ice cold the entire night you spend shivering on it. 

by the time morning comes, there are no more tears left. no more sobs or wails. 

all that’s left is a feeling of unending emptiness. 

everyone seems to have an opinion about the break up. some tell you he’s childish, a man child to not accept the fact that this is how adult relationships work. that people are busy. some go as far as to declare him the latest perpetrator of toxic masculinity—these people you ignore entirely. but there are some who sow a small seed of doubt in you—you fucked up. ultimately it’s george who knocks some sense into you with one simple text. 

he’s miserable. 

and before you know it, you’re texting your clients and letting them know you’ll be out of office for the foreseeable future. like a possessed person you’re on your laptop hunting for the quickest flights to paris. 

it’s the city of love and light. it should fix what’s broken. and you’re more than willing to grovel. to beg him for just one more chance. 

“will you please pick me up?” you text george as a last desperate attempt, practically jumping with joy when he says yes and asks you for your flight details. 

he tells you he’ll take care of the hotel room, of anything else you might need. all you need to worry about it being there and fixing what’s broken. he tells you there’s still hope. and like a fool you believe him wholeheartedly. 

it’s almost a day later that you stand in front of his hotel room on shaky legs, staring at the non-descript door with blurred eyes. you’re thankful for george’s hand lightly resting on your shoulder—there’s at least some moral support there. 

he doesn’t urge you to knock, he just stands there with you, staring at the brown door for as long as you might need to build up courage. 

you close your eyes and dream of the after. 

sure it will a confrontation at first. he’s going to be angry and hurt but you can change that. more importantly you can make him believe that you can change. so you let yourself dream of what comes after. of how you might spend days after cooped up in the room, tasting each other’s skin and reeking of sex. 

it won’t matter though. you would spend hours with your limbs tangled up, laughing at silly stories you’ve told each other a million times before and eating ridiculously expensive macaroons. 

the thought makes you laugh sharply, just once before you cover it up with a slight cough and look at george.

“right… right i think i’m ready…”

he nods and steps back, keeping a respectful distance, still there to be with you just in case. 

so you knock, toeing the carpet and trying not to strain your ears to hear any signs of life inside. maybe you’ve come at the wrong time… maybe he’s in the shower or asleep and you’re just doing one more thing wrong. maybe he’s not even in his room, preferring to be somewhere instead. it is paris after all… 

but the lock clicks and with it your heart stops beating. george takes another step back, rooting for a happy, cuddly reunion you hope. 

and then the door swings open and your heart is in your throat as soon as you see him. ross… your ross, he’s there. sure, he looks a bit tired and disheveled and sure he’s just answered the door shirtless but you couldn’t care less. 

“ros—”

“ross?” it’s another voice. it’s not yours and yet it’s a female voice, lilting and high-pitched and snagging on the r, saying his name. a voice that comes from inside his room. 

and then there she is, peeking out from behind him. it’s unmistakable that she only has a bedsheet clutched around her, hair escaping her bun and falling onto her bare shoulders. 

you stand there like a fucking statue once again, looking from her to him and back at her confused face. she’s everything you’re not—perfect and waiflike and god so stunning it hurts to look at her. 

or perhaps the hurt comes from the feeling of someone squeezing your heart so tight that you stumble back, practically knocking into george whose existence you’d forgotten in those last thirty seconds. 

“love—”

“no,” you whisper, already half turned around, bags in tow.

ross reaches forward, his face crumpling into one of guilt, pain and worry. his throat bobs, eyes quickly tinging with red. 

he tries to speak but nothing comes out. 

or maybe he does speak and you hear nothing at all because you’re so busy sprinting out of there and out of the hotel entirely and onto the unknown streets of paris. 

the eiffel tower stands proud—a romantic backdrop to all the cuddly couples taking photos in front of it, kissing each other and laughing their hearts out. you run away, back to wherever that will take you farthest away from here. 

wherever that will take you so so far away from his version of after that you would never even remember it again—remember him again, rather. the crinkles around his eyes and his dimples. the feel of his beautiful hair between your fingers. his voice and his laugh and his humming. 

all you can do is seethe with laughter so hard that a sob lodges itself in your throat, chokes and suffocates you thoroughly. 

there’s no after that you so desperately dreamed of. this is the only one you get. 

lemme know what you think <33

taglist: @scooby-doodoo, @partoftheairforce, @justgoatsbreakinghearts0855 @beachesgetpeaches, @you-muppet, @mcabister, @alexmarie29, @at-her-very-foreign, @hfkait, @squishysoupy @sierraeslaprincesa @harrie-fic-center @alien-girl-violet @thereisaplaceintheheart @kennedy-brooke @lolidontknowanymore @theoriginalwhatsername @celestcies @sugarkane1001 @ari-turner @thewaywewereinsaigon

add yourself to the taglist

[aigoos]

Obikin Jindokin Art by Kana7o

New Jindokin art by the amazing @kana7o!

I shared this idea a few months ago on Twitter. An idea where Anakin is a Jindo shapeshifter rescued by a teenage Obi-Wan in some sort of a modern AU (or something). This idea hit me so hard that I had to get Kana to draw them for me, and she did so beautifully! The art is right after the Battle of the Bath, and little Jindokin is snoozing away in the warmth of Obi-Wan's lap, feeling loved and protected.

Here's the link to the original Twitter thread and I've also copied it here under the cut for those who are interested. Seriously, Jindokin is my new love :D

Puppy Jindokin

My new Obikin idea involves Anakin as a Jindo shapeshifter (look at me embracing my Korean heritage!) who is rescued by a teenage Obi-Wan. Anakin and Shmi are living on the streets of Coruscant in their Jindo forms, and they run into some malicious individuals out to hurt them.

Shmi fights back and protects her son, and they manage to escape, but not without a cost. In a dark alleyway, Shmi dies from her injury, and Anakin, now all alone, cries and refuses to leave her for the next couple of days, not caring that he is cold, hungry, and thirsty.

It is Anakin's sorrowful cries that bring Obi-Wan to the alleyway, who usually wanders around Corsucant after school (he attends the prestigious Jedi Academy) to avoid returning to an empty house because his foster father, Qui-Gon, is always away on business trips.

Obi-Wan takes careful steps towards Anakin, aware that an alleyway is never a safe place. As he gets closer, he sees the puppy's mother, and his heart immediately goes to the little orphaned puppy. Anakin, despite his weakened state, snarls and growls at him to stay away.

That doesn't deter Obi-Wan, for he crouches near Anakin and says, "It's okay, dear one. I'm not going to hurt you. Shhh, it's okay." Anakin doesn't get the message, and he tries to snap at the strange boy, but he falls over and whimpers as he cries for his mother.

Obi-Wan reaches into his pocket and pulls out some apple slices he didn't finish from lunch, and he places one in front of Anakin, who stares at it with hungry eyes. Obi-Wan smiles and gently says, "Eat. You can have it." Anakin tentatively licks it before scarfing it down.

Obi-Wan gives him more apples, but Anakin ignores it and only returns to Shmi's side, and he nudges her with his little nose, whining at her to wake up. Obi-Wan's heart breaks at this scene. "I'm sorry, little one." Anakin cries, while Obi-Wan watches for a bit longer.

Obi-Wan then offers, "If you are okay with it, let's find her a safe place to bury her, and then you can come home with me. Would you like that?" Both the puppy and the boy stare at each other for a few minutes before Anakin whimpers in acquiescence.

Taking off his jacket, Obi-Wan gently wraps it around Shmi and picks her up along with Anakin. He walks them over to a nearby park, and he chooses a quiet spot to bury Shmi. Anakin sits and watches as Obi-Wan does the deed. When Obi-Wan finishes, he picks Anakin up.

Anakin starts to whine and cry, and Obi-Wan knows that Anakin doesn't want to leave his mother. Obi-Wan coos at him and promises him that they can come here together every day, but first Anakin needs care, food, and shelter. Obi-Wan holds Anakin against his chest and heads home.

Once home, Obi-Wan gives Anakin some food and water. Next, he gives Anakin a bath, who hates the entire process. Obi-Wan can't help but chuckle at the never-ending whining. The way Anakin tries his best to escape from the sink, soap, and water is something he will never forget.

After the Battle of the Bath, with Anakin all clean, he lets out a long yawn as he sleepily snuggles into his new master's cosy lap. He is now safe, no longer cold and wet, and his belly is full of good food. He knows that he has found a good place. He has found a new home.

Many years later, Obi-Wan discovers Anakin's secret of being a shapeshifter. He's in for a huge surprise when he wakes up one day and finds human Anakin in his bed, but that's another story for another day. This is all about Obi-Wan and Jindokin and how they find each other.

Adult Jindokin

[arenabreadandbiscuits]

Adrian Tepes x Reader • I Need You To Help Me Forget

~✨~

Includes talking about what happened to Alucard and his assault and his feelings towards it with Reader who loves him dearly.

~✨~

Word Count: 1,628. It was only supposed to be 1,000 words but I still went over it so be happy about that y'all lol.

Enjoy the read!

-

Her kisses are gentle, careful and he can feel his heart racing in his chest. Hammering.

It feels nice, lovely, and Alucard can't help how warm he feels being under her while she sits above him, holding his face with her hands as she covers his face in kisses. She kisses his lips, once, twice, three times before kissing his cheeks and after that she kisses along his jawline in a way that makes his breath hitch.

He can feel that similar heat in his gut, a feeling that he both loved and hated and just like that he was trembling.

He loved her so much. Too much.

And sometimes he feared her using him, playing him like he's been done before even though she's been by his side for years now. Helping him, keeping him safe.

A sense of guilt rushes over him and against his will he's remembering things he doesn't wish to. He wants her kisses but he feels dirty knowing used been used before. He feels unworthy of her love and of course she notices his tense nature, as she always does, and she pulls away quickly looking down at him with a worried gaze. Worried that she did something wrong and that hurt him more because never has she done him wrong and he needed her to know that.

She opens her mouth as if to apologize but he's quick to shake his head, closing his eyes for a moment as he gathers his breath. He's warm all over, a ball of fire in his gut. He wants her and he needs her to know he wants her.

His trauma annoyed him, made him angry beyond belief at times and sometimes… it came out on her. Sometimes he'd be so angry she'd catch the fire but she always managed to put him out as well… calming him with her smooth voice, holding him in her warm hands, kissing him with her angelic lips. She was his heaven on this earth and he needed her to know that.

“No.” He breathes as he looks at her again with those beautiful golden eyes of his. They're a little teary like he might cry. “Don't stop, please don't love my love.” He says softly as he looks up to her and it's like he's begging.

He needs her.

“Are you sure? Really sure?” She asked seriously as she leaned down, lips hovering over his own as she looked him in his eyes with her own and he loves how much she cares. She's supposed to after all.

He nods eagerly and she watches him for a moment before smiling softly and leaning in to kiss those lips of his again for a moment, hungry for another taste of him.

They press against each other before she nips his bottom lip and with a small moan he opens up for her. The way his tongue slides out to lace with hers is enough to make him rock hard in his undergarments and since she's in his lap, sitting so comfortably, he groans at the feeling of her against him. The heat between their bodies is enough to drive him wild and he needs her, needs her to keep kissing him, to keep touching him and to never leave him. Ever.

He needs it all.

She slides her tongue against his and moans softly as his hands move down to slowly grip her hips. He squeezes them, digging his nails into her skin a little as he holds her firmly against that hot bulge in his boxers. He can feel her through her panties, how warm and wet she's getting as she straddled him and when he gives a roll of his hips as if testing the waters she moans.

The noise makes his eyes roll back a little, before shutting. His hands squeeze her some more and he finds himself having to control himself.

There's a need to flip her over, to grab her by her hair or her throat and ram himself into her over and over again until she's screaming, crying that she'll stay with him, that she'll never leave.

And he's tempted.

Very tempted.

He can wait. He will wait because he's obsessed with her love, her attention and he'd be damned if he didn't receive every single bit of it.

She rolls her hips and he arches his back a little, searching for more… so much more.

He wants to rip their clothes off, to feel every inch and part of her around him… to pin her head down as she pleads for mercy but he doesn't want to hurt her, to scare her, even if she's completely happy with any and all the attention he gives her.

It feels good.

She feels good.

And he can't bother imagining his world without her after all this time. He'd rather die than lose her, then have her leave but he knows that she cares. That she loves him more than this world itself and knowing such makes him hot, needy.

He ruts his hips into her's, she's so pillowy and she grows wetter as she moans above him. She leans up, tossing her head back in pleasure at the grinding. He's hot against her like a burning sun.

His hands hold her tightly and soon he's tearing at her panties. He needs her, needs to feel her and he's practically losing his mind as they move against each other as their noises fill the air around them. Alucard could hardly control himself as he holds her and before he can stop himself he's flipping them over, caging her in under him as he continues to rock his hips.

He holds her legs open and watches as clothed cock rubs over her clothed and soaking wet cunt. He pants heavily much like a wild animal as he grips at the bed, nails digging in as she moans and pants. She whines his name, hands moving to caress and grope his chest before she runs her hands down his sides and holds his hips.

Even though he's not completely naked he feels hot all over and he pants as he looks her in her face as she gasps and calls out his name.

He's lost in her. Lost in her love, in her touches, her cries as she begs for more and Alucard feels an innate sense of relief.

Before he can stop himself he leans down and buried his fangs in his throat and they both explode. The feeling of his fangs send a wave of pain through her for a second and then explosive pleasure and she arches against him as she lets out a loud cry.

He groans hotly against her neck, the taste of her blood on his tongue and her hips shaking sends him into euphoria and he cums hard with a violent shudder as he presses hard against her.

He takes a moment to pull away from her, savoring that taste of hers with a moan before slowly pulling away. He's shivering and there's blood on his lips, his cheeks are red and his breath is ragged and he looks at her with enough love to shatter their reality. She breathes heavily, panting hotly under him, her legs around his waist and her hands on his chest as she looks up at him.

For a moment there's nothing but their panting but after a moment she grins at him, that cute and silly grin that he loved seeing on her so much and it makes his heart leap to his throat as her hands slowly move to wrap around his shoulders.

They kiss again, hot and desperate as she tastes her own blood on his lips.

“I love you.” He breathes, moaning softly as he moves his arms to hug her, squeezing her close as he spoke.

“I love you so much.” He whimpers softly and she purrs against his lips, lacing her fingers in his gorgeous blond hair, pulling him in even more even if there was already no space between their bodies.

“And you know I love you too.” She giggles. “I love you from the moon and back three times over, Adrien.” She smiles up at him after they pull away from a moment and her smile is so kind that he can't help the way it brings a few tears to his eyes. He sniffles, thanking her softly.

Thanking her for loving him, for being with him and she shushes him with kisses as she laces them over his cheeks as she kisses his tears away.

“No need to thank me. You deserve as much love as anyone else does and I'm happy to give it all to you.” She hums softly and as she holds his cheeks now he melts into her hold like a big happy dog. He loved her more than he could ever love anyone else and he was glad to finally have someone like her in his life.

“I want to be with you forever.” She breathes and he sobs softly as he hugs him tight. He refused to ever let her go.

“Then do so. Promise to never leave me.” He says with such a small voice that he almost seems like a small child pleasing for love and affection and she kisses those lips of his again, stealing his breath.

“I promise. I put it on my soul that I'll never leave your side.” She promises as they hold each other close, desperate to feel each other even more.

He loved her more than he's ever loved anyone else and he refused to ever let go and so did she.

They'd be together forever. He refused any other option.

[jellijellybean]

nsfw takes on some [JJK] characters mdni

don't laugh at me alright. im soft and mushy most days so there's no hardcore kinks in this one gang. ngl sometimes i get really nervous about posting my writing but then i remember i used to write on quotev when i was fourteen and feel arguably worse. as always put your ages in bios please and thank you. [word count: 2.1k]

warnings: nsfw. slight choking (gojo), overstimulation (receiving w/geto), alcohol mention (shoko), uhh none for (nanami) i believe, nails/scratching (utahime), oral (tojo)

a/n: this was written to be gender neutral. i might do the curses next because i am but a humble sukuna enjoyer (its such a shame he's always on my mind and never on me.)

Gojo:

I feel like he's the type to set the pace real gentle and slow. He doesn't get the opportunity to shower you with his affection as much as he'd like, but when he does it leaves you breathless.

He drags his palm up towards your neck so he can cup your face in one of those big hands of his. His lips don't stop ghosting over your neck as he trails kiss after kiss until he's brushing against your lips while the hand cupping your face suddenly trails down to carefully wrap his long fingers around your throat.

The squeeze is almost too faint to feel, but your head spins regardless and the chuckle that rumbles through his chest at your reaction makes your stomach explode with butterflies.

His favorite thing though?

Loves it so much when you wrap your legs around his waist, he loves the feeling of your arms wounding tight around his shoulders, how he's practically engulfed by you.

Seriously. He just loves the way you feel when you're here clinging to him down to the right amount of pressure, always leaving him dizzy from the rush he gets. When you whisper his name over and over again he feels invincible.

All the responsibilities, the pain, and sorrow can wait, everything, all his worries, all his hurt can fade into the background when your fingers brush through his hair, repeating soft, "I love you's,” into his mouth until your voice fades and his breath hitches.

Geto:

A tease through and through.

The type to whisper that he wants to hear what you want, all the filthy things that enter your mind, he wants to hear it all. Purposely, leaves you begging for more just so he can repeat the words of, "..say it for me one more time," before he thinks of continuing.  He's a bit more calculated with how well he sets the pace too.

Geto’s the type to observe your reactions, see how well you react to the way he slides in, how much pressure he'll need to use to have your legs shaking, and how sensitive you are to his touch. He takes his time to explore and learn just how to make your body sing.

You'd almost be startled by how often he focuses entirely on the way you feel when you're with him. The way you squeeze your eyes shut or when you try to pull him closer has his heart about to burst with the adoration he feels for you at that moment.

Be warned though, because of the pause he takes to admire you, to spend a few moments worshipping your very being — he'll absolutely overstimulate you afterwards, badly.

He might whisper that he's sorry, but he's almost there.. you can take a bit more, can't you? He got so distracted by you, he can't help it! The twitchy feeling below your stomach soon boils into burning pleasure when he continues the pace of his thrusts. He's kissing you, smothering your lips with kiss after kiss until your hands shake and your back arches once again.

Geto chuckles at the way your body tightens just right around him and he can't stop himself from cupping your face and holding it steady enough to keep your lips locked tight together.

Sigh. Isn't he so romantic?

Shoko:

You'd have to be the one to suggest anything, she's a busy woman with a packed schedule that leaves her exhausted.

Maybe, you decide to surprise her with a home-cooked dinner when she walks through the door and you finally get to see her tired smile as she tells you, you didn't have to.

You say it's the least you can do with the same bright grin you always wear and as you pull out the wine bottle kept safe for nights like this she caves and takes her seat right across from your own. Shoko's very thankful for your presence when you begin to talk about your day while she sits there and listens. A few drinks later and a quick movie leaves you guys on the couch, Shoko hovering above you as your hands rest against her hips.

The movie is long forgotten when you leave little nips and soft kisses against the sorceress' neck. Her shirt, slowly being pushed up and over her head just so you can continue to worship her delicate skin and watch the bites, scratches, and hickeys on her body slowly gain color.

Shoko’s more relaxed if anything, not really in a rush to get to where she needs to go. She is the type to really savor the moment as she tends to get lost in the way it feels the closer she gets to being pushed over that edge.

Something tells me she's also big on using her hands — mainly to touch your skin. Cup your face and trace the scars that you received from the time before you knew her. She even enjoys/savors the heat from your body as it slowly warms up her icy hands, and to Shoko, it's a constant reminder that you're here.

With her.

It keeps her grounded, especially after a long day of seeing sorcerers in different states of agony. You're her rock and she couldn't feel happier with anyone else, after all, you're all she needs in this world.

Nanami:

Nanami is a bit harder for me to calculate, but he gives very solid and strong vibes, give me a second to explain. Feels like his pace would be as steady as can be.. in the sense that he doesn't necessarily change it much. You might feel him get a bit rougher the closer he gets, really wanting to press deep, but he mostly keeps himself stable and has pretty good stamina overall.

Not the type to really get lost in the moment, but he tends to bask in the way his muscles tense and then how his body relaxes after he climaxes. He's a bit more on the quiet side too, not into talking too much but more into soft sighs and heavy breathing.

Don't expect his pace to be erratic unless you purposely tease him throughout the day — you'll know what's about to happen when he suddenly clasps a hand on your shoulder, pinky close enough to your neck he'd be able to caress the skin if he wanted to. He's ruthless, but still.. restrained in a sense until you goad him a bit more — keep babbling about whatever, tease him until you see the cracks in his self-control.

Man's will be talking then, whispering how exactly you affect him. How you invade his mind on days he needs to focus, how you're always there regardless of what he's doing.

When he's at work he wonders if you're awake. In the car he questions whether you've eaten or not and even when he's dealing with curses he thinks back to you.. at home waiting for him and he finds himself being a bit more careful.

Calculated and calm.

He needs to get home to you after all. Nanami tends to be a little more looser, letting out moans and groans more freely, his deep voice leaves you shivering. He normally falls asleep after nights like these though, arm wrapped taut around your body, making sure to keep you close to his chest. Just hold him tight and whisper that everything will be okay — he'll fully believe you.

Utahime:

Alright, something about this lady just gives me.. brat vibes (if you can say that.)

She won’t be downright mean to you but will do anything to get a reaction out of you so to speak. I’m talking when you guys are training and she manages to knock you down to the ground with a bright grin on her face all while exclaiming that she beat you!

Utahime can laugh and giggle all she wants about her victory and she might even say that you let your guard down, that you didn’t give it your all, and that you lost — to her.

It might make your blood boil a bit when she says those words to you, a slight tremble in your fingers as you reach for her arm to tug her down.

Now it’s your turn to laugh at the shock on her face, the way she whispers that your tactics are dirty, and the fact her face flushed at the realization of just how close you two were. You’re practically on top of her! She says it with a slight glare but your hands slip under her shirt before she even has a second to open her mouth again. It's funny watching, almost entranced, as her eyes widen before she tries to squirm away.

She stares, jaw slack, as the grin grows on your face when you throw a teasing remark back to her that gets her blood boiling all while teasing her chest. Utahime begins to take this as a challenge — to see who’s the real loser and before you realize it, girl has you flipped over with her hands underneath your shirt. Her strength surprises you as she slowly clambers on top of your body, feeling the way her nails ghost across your skin before digging into your shoulders.

Oof yeah, the nails are something she uses — often. Talking deep scratches along your back and shoulders that burn with an almost addicting pain, might even leave imprints when she cums with how hard she digs them into your skin. Sometimes it has you worried she’s drawing blood lol.

I also get talkative vibes from her, like she whispers soft curses and small threats like, “If you stop.. I’m going to kill you.” (LMAO) but the majority of the time, when you guys aren’t at each other’s throats, she’s a real softy with her words.

Very open about how good you make her feel and will gladly tell you so, but be warned because she expects the same energy back.

Honestly, just tell her how much you love her, how badly she affects you, and just how often she’s on your mind and I promise she’ll be eating out of your palm in no time because.. really.

All she wants is someone to love and appreciate the way she is without the need to hide any part of herself and look who's perfect for that.

Toji:

You guys probably met at some bar that served cheap booze and different types of filling foods. The screens on the tv’s playing random sports or the news or even some random cartoon — it’s overstimulating and you don’t even realize it until the sound of someone shuffling beside you is enough to drag your attention away.

The man doesn’t seem to acknowledge you but yawns very openly, you swear you’d be able to hear it if the people chatting weren’t so loud. Toji on the other hand, noticed you from across the room. His first thoughts were that you were cute looking, not really meant to be on this side of town without a reason, so he decided to sit next to you and see if you'd be interested in conversation.

(I can’t describe it but Toji to me doesn’t really give romantic vibes, but he’d still be at least somewhat considerate of your comfort and pleasure.)

Don't expect kisses to the lips and soft pillow talk, expect a bite to your ear and him forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist. Just ti keep himself hunched over your body until he's practically engulfing you and everything you are. Has a mix of having such a ruthless pace that leaves you gasping for air each time he bullies his way inside and then having the slow and lazy one with how gentle he rocks his hips into you when he feels like switching it up.

He won't admit it but he loves the fact you can never seem to hide the noises he drags out of you — it's a song only he's able to hear and that leaves him on cloud nine.

Might catch him lying on his back afterwards, staring at the ceiling with a somewhat blank look on his face. You might think that's it. That he's got what he wanted and is about to leave and never speak to you again, but the truth is, he's not sure how to ask if you'd be interested in meeting up like this again and again and again.

It's been a while since he's actually slept with someone he feels like he has good compatibility with and that's hard to find in this day and age. Won't say anything about it but you'll find it kind of weird when you slowly begin to see him around a bit more. Maybe he's walking down the street or standing in line at the grocery store and you see him again.

Call it fate or whatever but he draws you closer, like a moth to a flame. You'll learn about his thing with oral as time goes on. Loves the way you sound with his fingers in your mouth or when it's been such a rough day all he needs is you, on your back, trying to shove his head away while you beg and plead for some mercy.

It's honestly his favorite pastime. Let's just hope you two don't get into anything too frisky because my man is shameless and all I can say is godspeed soldier.

[voidsteffy]

Promises

Jai (Mirchi) x fem!OC Madhu

A/N: @mahi-wayy asks me to write a Jai fic and I write a Jai fic, it's as simple as that. After that Rajasaab snippet that thrust me back into the immaculate Mirchi first half Darling feelz, I was held at gunpoint to relive my Mirchi days (I was the one holding the gun btw). Angsty ending beware. Some violence. idk I suck at feelers for fic segments. Can't reveal the ending sorry. Tell if there's anything I must add. Btw, not proofread!

Word Count: 2368 words

Glossary: Mavayya - father-in-law Atthayya - mother-in-law

“I’ve never seen an Anthropology major so against peace.”

That’s what Jai said to her after the rest of the house had finally left her alone. A few hours ago, Madhu had showed up at the doorstep with bloody knuckles and a few bruises. He had kept mum when the rest of his relatives, now almost like her family too, fretted over her and her slight bruises. To their credit, though they were happy that Madhu was getting involved in matters of the town’s welfare, they were very worried that she might have gotten seriously hurt.

“I’m not against peace Jai. I just think that sometimes it might necessitate slight aggression.”

Jai’s face scrunched up in inexplicable worry, and for a moment she felt crippling guilt. Madhu winced as she angled herself towards him in bed, feeling quite less energetic by the minute. He avoided her gaze but she had felt the tension and anger simmering in his eyes. His jaw was taut, his gaze avoidant from where he sat at the foot of the bed.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“For defending the farmers by beating those goons or for getting hurt in the process?”

“For getting caught.”

Jai rolled his eyes and his hands grabbed hers so sharply, desperately. He slid down from the bed, crawling onto his knees to be beside her. He kissed her bruised knuckles, running his fingers over them as gently as he could.

Most of the people who knew her, saw Madhumati, the jovial city girl. But he was the first one to see the fire in her heart, the way she cared so much about protecting the defenceless. Figures, that he’d fall for the one girl who cared for social service as keenly as his father whom he’d never known until a few days ago. Maybe that was why his mother was reluctant about her in the beginning, but it was impossible not to see the pure goodness behind whatever Madhu said or did.

“Things seem different here. I’m not asking for you to change yourself, but please,”

“Please what?”

Even after all the years of being together and one year of married life, Madhu had a tiny spec of fear crawling somewhere in her. That Jai would leave her. He wouldn’t love her anymore because she was too brash, because she was away from home a lot, away from him a lot, for social causes. Because he had to defend her to everyone in his life and she wouldn’t blame him if at some point, he ran out of reasons to ever stand up for her. Madhu wouldn’t blame him if he ever stopped wanting her near. She’s been trying to run from herself since she could remember.

“I can’t lose you bujji.”

He’d always called her bujji, and she always wanted to call him that in return but she could never bring herself to do it. The world swayed on its axis for a blink of an eye and when her eyes accustomed themselves to the shock, Madhu realised that all of this was real.

She was loved.

Loved, like you had someone on your side all the time. Loved, like you could spend the rest of your life loving them back. You had someone that kissed your knuckles and put his head on your chest. You had someone’s hair to run your hands through after a tough day.

She was so loved.

Tears sprang to her eyes, rolling down her temples to the pillow that smelled just like him.

And to think she was so ready to put it all at risk.

Of course, the heart is stupid and its grip on the tongue is more envious of the title; so the first thing that comes out of her mouth sounds like a hoarse tantrum.

“And you think I can lose you?”

Jai is quiet for a long time. Madhu wondered whether he went through the same epiphany as her. She wished her love to be his epiphany just this once despite having nurtured it for years for it to be a click of the moment.

“Jai, I see you in your anger. I see you when you threaten Mavayya’s enemies. I see it when you hide their beaten bodies behind their own cars. I see it when you’re angry and you don’t want me to look at you. But I do, and I’m not scared, because I understand. And I can get angry too.”

He nodded, his face burrowed into the soft fabric of the bed. There seemed to be a conversation in his own head, the angel battling the devil for control. He wouldn’t ever lose Madhu but he too understood the gravity of the situation as she had. Neither of them could afford to let their anger take root. Mavayya insisted there was always a peaceful way of winning a war.

“Ok…” he shook his head, like he was trying to tumble the idea of something out of his head. “Ok ok.”

Her hands were still buried in his hair, smoothening it out just like his mother said she used to.

“I promise,” he looked up at her finally. “I promise. I promise I’ll let go of my anger. Whatever it takes, I’ll never choose the violent way ever again. I’ll protect you.”

Jai looked expectantly at her and she knew he wanted her to say the same thing. But she smiled, shaking her head.

“Please don’t ever promise that. I can’t promise to never choose violence. But I promise I will always look for peace before I choose violence.”

He didn’t look convinced, like they were close to being back to square one.

“Not all of the world bends to peace Jai. There are people out there who will kill the people we love no matter how softly we could handle issues. So I promise I’ll always protect us, our family, this village. I promise. And I promise I won’t put myself in danger voluntarily again Jai. Trust me.”

They exchanged more such promises, almost like they were creating their own vows in the sanctity of their realisations behind the locked doors of the room. Her body didn’t want to hurt that much anymore. And so Madhu and Jai found themselves chest-to-chest, his toes pulling the hem of her sari higher and higher as his buttons slowly became undone and his hair messier under her hands.

Suddenly, it occurred to her that she hadn’t mentioned one crucial thing.

She kissed his temple, “I love you.”

—--------------

Quite some time had passed and the family— surprisingly including Mavayya and Atthayya, had planned a small reception for Madhu and Jai as a couple. Everybody in the kind cosy town knew that she was married to their favourite heir. But since he was that - an heir, their own regional royalty, it was decided that a feast and celebration was called for.

The farmers whom Madhu had helped before were grateful and insisted on gifting her half of their gorintaku (henna) crop. Everyone’s hands were pulsing, cooling red that auspicious day— most of the men refused to hide their loving hands that applied mehendi to their spouse’s or betrothed’s hands. Everyone was happy seeing their serious authoritative prince oh so tenderly hold his wife’s palms while he rolled the mehendi into balls and imprinted designs all over her hands.

All of this reminded Jai of their first wedding reception. It had been a court wedding since neither of them ever thought of making it a spectacle after Madhu’s parents passed away during a workers’ agitation gone wrong. But now everything was bright and shining, and Jai had a father who loved her as much as he loved his own son. His mother looked younger when she laughed with his father. Vennela’s eyes shone like stars as she admired them: like seeing her life’s hero get back his heroine.

The shehnai signalled Madhu’s presence as she stepped out of the house.

She thought she saw Jai catch his breath.

She had the most beautiful yellow sari draped around the curves of her tall body, the golden and ruby all over it shimmering in the rough sunlight. A dark bindi, kohl in her eyes, your nuptial thread hanging down your neck, hair adorned with the flowers of all the gardens in the entire village, hands adorned with glass bangles that the wives of the town gifted her after she had helped them start their businesses, silver anklets tinkling melodiously with every step - his first gift to her. Madhumati was the most divine bride he had seen and for her, he was no less.

A silk shirt that matched streaks of gold with her sari, a matching lungi, garlands of fragrant flowers and kundans hanging from his hands, his gold watch - her first gift to him.

Everyone cheered as Jai passed the garland back to Vennela to help Madhu up some small steps. She took his hand despite needing no help, and it became evident that he knew that too. He smiled, almost looking like he bowed,

“Inta bagunte ela bujji? Nenemaipovali cheppu?” (How can you be so beautiful, bujji? What would happen to me?)

Her smile widened, and for a moment she allowed herself to swim deep within his admiring gaze.

Flower petals already came showering on them and everyone said they might have been born just to witness a couple like them.

Jai and Madhu ended up in the centre of the crowd with all their family members, Vennela managing the situation to appease the people that flourished across town.

She felt happy on seeing the house regain its former happiness, the kind that she had only dreamt of when she was little. Vennela was always so sweet and innocent, she was Madhu’s best friend despite having spent so little time with her. Completing her chance to say a few words, Vennela winked at her, all but pushing Madhu forward to say something.

Madhu looked back at the rest of the family. Jai stood between Mavayya and Atthayya and everyone else while the town police officers in attendance stood to the side. They all smiled, asking her to go ahead. They never opposed Madhu’s relation with the pulse of this land, these people. She smiled, pulling Jai along to address the people.

“We are so happy for all the love you have shown us. They say it’s not a celebration until all the guests feel like family. You are our family now, and—”

They spoke in turns to the excited crowd, letting them butt in between to shout out their blessings.

But among the happy faces, she noticed a masked man weave his way through the crowd.

It all happened so suddenly. One second she was smiling at Gangamma insisting that you have a child soon, and the next— everything was chaos. People she didn’t recognise jumped at them from all sides, and it was her and Jai against them. The crowd gave an uproar of panic, people stampeding haphazardly as men charged with weapons.

Jai pushed her back, giving a way cry that tore through dry and humid bloodthirsty air. He fought the goons off till the veranda was soaked in streaks of red mixing with the holy water they had sprinkled not that long ago.

Everything was back to normal, she had realised belatedly as spots of black enveloped the corners of her vision— everyone’s lives were threatened once again, and Jai had no choice but to choose violence.

The earth gave away under her feet and she was caught by a pair of arms. Blood ran down her neck, and something loud echoed in her ears. Her eyes couldn’t help but flutter close in pain.

Jai’s father had caught Madhu, writhing in pain at an injury, while Vennela harboured Atthayya and the rest of the family inside the house into safety.

“Jai! Jai!”

Mavayya shouted and shouted till the name rang through her body. Madhu gasped for air, gasped for that name.

“Jai! She’s hurt!”

Every fibre in her body hurt when Jai came running, crashing onto the rough wet ground to take her from his father’s grip.

Jai had held Madhu like this many times - her head in the crook of his elbow, his eyes finding the universe in hers. But this time her head hung limp and heavy in his hold.

He slapped her cheeks as she fought to keep her eyes open.

“Bujji? Bujji look at me, bujji!”

That’s what he always called Madhu. ANd she hadn’t even managed to say it back to him.

Madhu whimpered as he shook her like a rag doll, crying out for him again and again. It hurt, it felt like hot and cold daggers running through her heart. Jai kept his grip firm on a wound on her neck, which seemed to pour out blood the more he gripped it.

The yellow of her sari was drenched in her blood now, and she forced her eyes open to look at Jai, one last time. Her husband.

Her hands found his face, wiping away his tears with blood as she stuttered.

“B-Buj-jji?”

The first time she reciprocated his special little form of affection, was also the last time she ever would.

“Hey… Hey! Hey! Bujji? Look at me, come on look at me! Bujji, open your eyes……… Open your eyes! Please, please. Bujji! No!”

Her cries cease, leaving Jai’s sobs for her lonely and orphaned, ringing through the air with more pain than his rage ever allowed him.

Madhu had once told him that when she’d die, she would be at peace if it was in his arms while she looked into his eyes, knowing that there was nothing she would have done differently.

That day, the town mourned the death of their chieftain. It would be years until the family manages to smile again but not that long until Jai avenges Madhu’s death with kindness and the violence of her memory and absence. He failed in his promise to protect her but would not make promises he couldn’t keep anymore.

Jai had only one wife, and the day she died…

A part of him never came back.

THE END

(ps: mahi, I hope you liked reading this🫂 and I hope it satisfied your Jai fic appetite that we spoke of. maybe I'll write more who knows)

[jjxkiaraxpopexcleoxjohnbxsarah]

A little bit about me- I'm Malika,She/her,I like to write and make gifs. I am just a young OBX girl who loves Teen Wolf among other things. I am always open to have a convo but if ur male then DNI cos online safety ppl, but no seriously just DNI. Here are all my OBX stories, I hope y'all enjoy them If the title has a 💗 next to it then that means it is completed. Home is You: WRITTEN BY ME AND MY BESTIE @lis4ux "We can't leave him alone," Kiara says, clear worry in her voice. "What?" Pope asks, confused at the topic of conversation. "JJ," she clarifies. "He can't be alone." "Why?" Kiara scoffs. "Because he's in total self-destruction mode," she explains, like that wasn't already obvious

Pogues for Life💗:

Because JJ's gonna be okay and that means John B will be fine too.They don't know yet about the new set of obstacles and challenges that await them, the new enemies the new gold.For now, they are just two boys, holding each other, watching a movie, being Pogues for life.

The Lost Tides Of Kitty Hawk:

What if the roles were reversed? What if instead of kidnapping Kiara, JJ was taken away What will the Pogues do and will Kiara do what JJ did for her?

Warmth in every hug💗:

Each time a Pogue hugged JJ and 1 time they gave him a group hug(requested)

I can't lose you💗:

"How'd you like havin' a gun pulled on you?" JJ said, jabbing his finger on John B's chest. "He had it right here on you, bro."John B gently wraps his fingers around JJ's wrist and says, "Relax."And that's the final straw because the next thing he knows,JJ is crumbling into John B, crying his heart out.

Hold me in your arms💗:

"I can’t lose him, Kie” Kiara looks up at John B and gives a small empathetic smile. “You won’t, no, we won’t”

I wasn't hurt that badly💗:

about JJ at the HOSPITAL

We can't leave JB💗:

Basically the scene from s3 e2 when Pope and Kiara argue with JJ about leaving John B but more detailed

Don't Leave, Just Don't leave me💗:

“Don’t you wanna eat Jajge?"Pope starts as he looks at the Maybank boy.JJ looks defeated,like all the fight has left him and the usual energy that comes with him is not in sight."not hungry”

I think… I love you, so don't leave me💗:

“Go to the chateau"Sarah says- it’s only now Pope realises that she’s practically taken the role of leadership in the last 30 minutes."But JJ needs a hospital not a-”Sarah cuts Topper off,“Chateau now”The drive there is silent apart from Kiara’s sobs.

If only you'd know💗:

He could see Pope sitting alone on the rocks near the shore.John B felt a bit guilty, he was Pope's friend too.But Pope had hurt JJ. His JJ.

Lost in My Past💗:

Not real not real not real-JJ gasps for air as he tugs on his hair-His dad's angry shouts merge with the gunshots.

Gone(But Not Forever):

Starts from s1 ep10 my take on things Some chapters involve Panic attacks, mentions of child abuse John b and Sarah are gone Not dead. Gone A big difference Because they can't be dead they just can't

i may have lost my mind without you💗:

basically i loved pioneer7's fic and i wanted to write a chapter about how the others take care of jj whilst kie was also in the hospital

Header made by an ex-mutual of mine as a gift for me when we were friends- Can't tag her cos she blocked me

[steviewashere]

No One You Can Save That Can't Be Saved (Love)

Rating: Teen and Up CW: Lots of talk around death, Vague suicidal thoughts (seriously very vague) Tags: Post-Canon, Post-Season 4, Established Relationship, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Steve Harrington has Nightmares, Panic Attack, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Cuddling & Snuggling, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Introspective, Fear of Death

I don't know what this is. I wrote the opening poem and then wrote the rest. Enjoy, I guess? Title is from "All You Need is Love" by The Beatles.

This is also on ao3, but it's not showing up currently in the Steddie tag. If you'd like to read this in full on ao3 instead, Here's the Link!

💕—————💕 I’ve had no desire to die. None in my body. But if you told me to die, I’d ask: Who for? Where should I lay my body? Like this? I’d perfect it. I’d make a gala out of it. I’d win. Blood on my hands and flesh between my teeth; I am not dead. But— Death is intimate with me. I have no desire to die.

——— The grass pearls with early morning dew. Tacky soil shapes to the bottom of his left sneaker. He takes a step forward, the imprint of his posture a temporary fixture in the lawn. If it rains again, the divots of his soles will collect water like cupped palms. Though the day will surely pass while he stays inside, working the nightmare from his musk scented skin, and he’ll return home dead on his feet. Ready to lay himself bare to a cooling bedsheet.

Tapping his sneakers on the doorway of his vehicle is the first thing he does fresh from his house. Shake the dew from his feet, shuffle inside until his legs are tucked gently under the steering wheel, slam the door shut, turn the engine over, and wait for the radio to croon. If he had the time, he’d pick a tape. But on mornings like these, he backs out of the driveway. One arm on the headrest of the passenger seat. Head peering over his shoulder.

One time he hit the neighbor’s mailbox. His cheeks remember the anger radiating from his father. If even one tire begins to turn incorrectly, he pulls back in and tries again.

Desolate roads are his favorite bit of scenery. Morning drives where people are between waking up and already at work. Long stretches of asphalt against his tires and breeze icing his cheek. It’s the quiet, too. Silences in lulls. Reaching out and holding him.

Today is different. His sneakers are wiped and his legs are burrowed and the cold air reaches his cheek. But today is like no other. Heart racing, blood chilling in his wrists, fingers going numb. The tendrils of a nightmare wrapping around his brain like thorned vines on dungeon walls. He is a prisoner to himself and his surroundings. And he can’t take a deep breath. It’s like drowning, but nothing is like drowning. Drowning is death. This isn’t death. Everything is death.

It’s death in the way his breath tastes like finality. Mouth dry of saliva and teeth as specters, rotting and decaying before he has time to fully swallow. The heave before the storm. Before the vomit goes beige on his thighs and chunky to the floor of his car. And it’s death in the sense there’s blood every time he blinks. He’s reminded of the way he played role as emergency room technician. Two hands on a slim chest, ribs crackling under his palms—the sounds similar to that of heavy tree branches downed in an Indiana snow storm. He is numb in the fingers, but cold on the palms. And it’s the darting in his eyes, sign of life somewhere, sign of life nowhere. The road stretches forever this morning.

It’s death in the harrowing way. A car beelining for the side of a road. Parked in the means to brake, but not to settle. He is thirty seconds away from a crash. Turbulent planes flying overhead, he is an unsuspecting tree. The cat between his front two tires. Mushed traces of squirrel guts half a foot from the base of a robin’s nest; crushed eggs fallen to the floor. It’s death because there is the phantom tail of a bat pinning him to the headrest of his seat. Wrapped to the two metal bars below the bottom of his skull. And his hands are tingling, heavy on his lap. Kicking his legs, feet lurching into the brake, a squeal when his car takes the movement as instruction. He’s not ready to go.

But he can’t escape. And he can’t move. Can’t blink unless the road crumbles below him.

He is trapped. This is death because he’s dying and he’s got the black spots in his vision to prove it, but there is an overbearing glow of a white light like a cone on his peripheral. He is trapped—a dog free from the vet.

Clinking on his window draws him to look left. Blearily. The slow drag of his eyeballs. Two weather vanes in stilted, hazy, sticky summer stillness. Muffled. This is death because he’s forgotten what urgent care sounds like, but this is a near thing.

He’s not ready to go.

It’s death because there is warmth and gentleness. He cries—though it isn’t felt—because there is love. And while love is not absent, he had been chasing it. Longing and yearning. Giving himself in ways not even God would approve of. This time, though, it makes sense he had to die for it.

“You’re not dying, sweetheart,” a pleasant voice says. If Death is speaking, then he is listening. Death has two hands and warm breath and a husk gargled in his throat like sucking down cigarettes on and off for four hours. The stale smell of one smoked swirls in his nostrils. “Not dying, you’re just far away. And scared,” Pleasant Voice speaks again. It’s accompanied by a faint tickle under his eye. He closes up, lost in the sensation.

It’s death because he doesn’t desire, but he is persuaded. God, it’s sweet.

He takes a deep breath. The hurt is temporary as it seems like shards shed from his lungs. Nosing at his headrest, the perfumed scent of floral shampoo and fragrant salty sweat and those cigarettes. It relaxes him slightly, the tail away from his throat. The breathing comes easier and the black spots begin to dissipate. He’s reminded of the aftermath of torture, sleeping fitfully in bed, but alive. And he chases his nose to the left, body twisting around on his seat, hands limp on his legs still.

Pleasant Voice seems to hum. Murmuring low, raspier than before, “Easy, you’ll be okay. Doing a good job relaxing. I’ve got you, sweetheart.” Another careful pet to underneath his eye. “I’m here. I’ve got you.” And a caress through his hair, two hands cupping him like water. He ripples with contentment. Crumpling against the pleather seat. He swallows. An uneasy emotion, a vapor, noxious poison billowing through his nose.

His eyes flutter open again. In front of him, two brown irises. Both gentle and concerned, deathly afraid and lowering their haunches. He blinks. Clarity. And he had expected to die, but it’s like drinking ice cold water, coming back to life from the warmth of an early summer’s day. “Eddie?” Steve chokes. “What’re—Eddie?”

Eddie—not Death—smiles a sad thing. Two frowning corners, but the gentle uptick of his lips. His eyes don’t crinkle. And his nose remains stagnant. “It’s me,” he whispers. “I was on my way into town from the trailer and I saw you on the side of the road. Looked like—Thought you were—I was half expecting your skin to be green when I came closer.”

“What does that—“

“I thought you were dead, Steve,” he answers bluntly. His hand tightens on Steve’s jaw, the other pressing closer to his scalp. “Baby, that was horrifying. I wasn’t ready—Why are you out here driving?”

Steve shakes his head. The low ruffle of his hair like two pieces of paper being scrubbed together. “I don’t remember,” he mutters, “I woke up and—My throat was aching and I thought that—Woke up with blood behind my eyelids, Eds.” He tries to swallow again, but the emotion rises. Bile. Pleasantly like bile. Then, he bursts. Crying and keening. Hiccuping through his gasps and breathing as if there are rocks on his tongue. And he isn’t sure where to put his hands, but the rest of his body falls forward into Eddie’s. Though, maybe it was on purpose. An expectancy. Because Eddie wraps back fiercely, tugging, half-climbing inside of Steve’s car. Making the room for this coagulated form of welling fear and quelled calm, the body shivers and sudden blood to his cheeks, a cough caught somewhere between a sob and an expel. It’s death because he’s frightened, Eddie is in there somewhere, too.

Eddie keeps tugging until they’re comfortable in the back of his van. Him on his lap, curled inwards in the fetal position, secured warmly between Eddie’s lithe arms. Somehow containing him. He’s not strong, he’s not weak, but he’s enough to keep Steve’s pieces all mushed in together. Not completely whole, but not spiraling like thread between lengths of road.

He’s worn when he pulls back. Eyes as two cement blocks taped above his cheeks. “Thought I was dying,” he finally croaks.

With a somber gentleness, Eddie pushes back strings of his hair. Whispers, “I know, baby. You kept telling me in your car.”

“I was afraid.”

“I know, baby.”

“I think a part of me thought you were dying, too.”

Eddie hums. “Did you have a nightmare about…About having to save me?” He quietly asks. He’s never breeched the subject before, but it’s different. Today’s different. It’s death because he has to answer.

“Yeah,” Steve murmurs. Sniffles noisily. The carnage stuffed high between his brain and sinus cavity. “I couldn’t feel my hands. Back in the car. They were completely numb. But—No, that’s not right. My palms were cold like your skin. And I couldn’t hear you at first, just your ribs. And then I—“ He stops to shake his head. Tilting it down towards his chest. Plucking at the hem of Eddie’s t-shirt. He’s fully dressed in casual wear in comparison to Steve’s outfit. Still worn down to his stained Hawkins High gym shirt from early last year, the fall of his senior year, and his red tartan fleece pajama pants. “Think I was searching for you and just didn’t make it.”

“I’m here now,” Eddie simply responds. He pets again at Steve’s face. He likes to do that. Never condescending. As if part of him can’t believe he gets to touch. Or another part can read just how much Steve needs it. It’s death because he’s known. “How about I get you home? Back in bed?”

“Don’t think I’ll sleep.”

“Okay,” he mutters, nodding. “Okay, how about you sit with me today back at the trailer? I’ve got to fill out some job applications. It’ll be quiet. You can bring a few tapes from your car, play them if you like. And I’ll make you hot chocolate. Does that sound…?” Steve’s nodding before he can even finish the question. “Alright, baby. You’ll be okay, you know that? I’m here right now. And you’ll be with me.”

“I’ll be with you,” Steve murmurs.

“Yeah, sweetheart. And if you need a reminder, you can just look at me. Or…Ask me to tell you a story. You like that, don’t you?” Steve nods again. Eddie pets the crest of his head, down to the tuft of hair on the back of his neck, dipping into his t-shirt to settle his palm between his taut shoulder blades. He twitches when he fully sets his palm. “You have your thinking face on. What’s going on up here?” He asks, tapping at Steve’s left temple.

Steve swallows. “I—I’m afraid of death.”

“I know, sweetheart. That’s okay, you—“

“But I’m more afraid of everybody else dying,” he admits. “I’d die for you. I’d…I think part of me died for you.”

A sharp intake of breath. “Baby, I don’t like that.”

“I don’t like it either. But it’s true. Feels like…I feel like a lot of me has died. For everybody around me.” His voice is shameful, but flat. Tepid and shaking. “But I let it happen. I wasn’t fighting against the urge. It just—I allowed myself to experience death. Either it was my own or somebody else’s. At every turn, I was expecting to be incinerated. Dissolved. Turned over in the ground like recycled soil. I don’t—“ He sighs through his nose. Confesses, “I’d do it again.”

“I really don’t like that, Steve. Is this—Are you asking for help? What do you need, sweetheart?” He’s not sure what Eddie’s eyes look like right now. There’s an infliction, though. A steady storm of concern and mild trepidation. Hands flat and pressing as if he’s willing them to stay rooted to their spots in the back of his van.

Steve doesn’t answer immediately. Blinking and exhaling and shoving the images that haunted him into early morning to just…die, oddly. Allowing Eddie’s gentle touch to soothe his frayed nerves. He collapses further in the lap underneath him. “Don’t go. I’m not ready for you to go.” 

He toys his hands in his lap now. Fingers picking and prodding at healed scabs. Hangnails that were chewed short by his fingernails. Knuckles that have scarred over and over, time and time again. “Don’t go,” he reiterates, whispering. His voice is keening. And he knows that it’s sort of childish, what he’s requesting. Tugging on Eddie’s pant let and wrapping his limbs around his ankle. Thumb in cheek and eyes wet. But though the events of the last few years have manhandled him and stretched him thin like a mushed ball of murky colored Play-Doh, he is immature still. He can beg if he wants to.

And thankfully, Eddie appeases. Pressing again into Steve. In a way, he’s afraid, too. “I won’t, Steve. I promise that I won’t go willingly. But you have to promise me back.”

“I promise,” he immediately mutters.

“Okay,” Eddie says. A default in conversations like these. 

‘I have a migraine.’ ‘Okay.’ ‘Just need silent company.’ ‘Okay.’ ‘Don’t die again.’ ‘Okay.’ 

He holds Steve tighter. Bending in a prairie dog way to kiss his forehead. Murmuring sticky wet against the skin, “Love you, sweetheart.”

Steve sighs through his nose. This is all going to come up again and again. He’s sure of it. Later today, he’s sure. When he’s half there and half in the dark crevices, the depths of his brain, caverns without crystals. And Eddie will be there, too. As a rescue team, sent far down with nothing but a pickaxe and harsh, yellow rope. They’ll have to talk about it. What he means about doing it again, even though he didn’t die. That significant emptiness that shapes itself like craters in his chest. Or how it all coincides with facing so much with such little time, his self worth and respect like forks in a garbage disposal; clinking and whirring and dancing, then shredding and grating and screeching, and so irreversibly broken, they can’t be eaten off of anymore. And then he’ll probably have to see a therapist, explain what he told Eddie, and listen to suggestions.

For now, he dips forward until his forehead is on Eddie’s shoulder. Nose crushed against his shirt. He closes his eyes as he takes in the scent of an alive and well Eddie. A part of him wants to apologize for all this mess he’s left construed about. But knows the moment he even tries, he will soothed into much needed silence. “Will you hold my hand while you drive?” He murmurs into the base of Eddie’s neck. He’s still crumpled and misshapen, but somehow also held. Held in a way that reminds him of being a little kid. Cherished through fear in both parties. He supposes that’s what he is. Brain still exploring like he’s seventeen, before the demogorgon. A child in a sense. An overgrown weed.

“I will,” Eddie promises.

And so Steve nods. “I love you, too.” He wraps his arms around Eddie’s waist, encircling barely, air still able to travel in the gap he creates where his bare skin doesn’t touch the cotton of Eddie’s shirt. Tangling his hands loosely. Not exactly grasping for something, but the suggestion of it. “I love you,” he murmurs once more. The words like white noise, but true.

He’ll say it more later. Curled on one end of Eddie’s couch while he sits on the other side. No space between them because Steve refuses to move his legs, the bottoms of his feet, socked and dry, shaped firmly to the soft give of Eddie’s thigh. In between moments, he’ll whisper the words. As a tape plays and the beats are bright and jingling, while he’s melancholy and still to the soft cushion. When Eddie mutters something indistinguishable, chewing on the end of his ballpoint pen. Over a plain turkey and American cheese sandwich, mayo smeared on his bottom lip, and Eddie wiping away the residue. A reverence focused on him like soft spotlight.

It’s death because he knows they won’t have forever.

He loves, though, and that’s enough to quell the fear that floods him.

He wades in Eddie’s soft touch. In his sticky lips. The lulls.

“I’m going to play my Beatles ‘Magical Mystery Tour’ album,” he tells Eddie. Because, much like the end of the album, love is all you need. He’s afraid. But he can be brave in Eddie’s arms, his warmth, his deserved life.

💕—————💕

[blue-howlite]

Being their significant other, Pandora Hearts and Vanitas no Carte edition

Featuring Vanitas, Gilbert, Xerxes and Oswald.

Type: mostly fluff, a bit of angst though.

Warnings: spoilers for Pandora Hearts of course, men that need some therapy but they don't have it in their time period, mentions of hickeys and biting on Vanitas' part because he is a masochist, Oswald part is pretty sad but that's fine if you love him you love crying. Also writer that is bad at writing.

Yn = Your name

Author note: I wrote this because my best friend is having a rough time recently, so I thought I'd cheer her up with some headcanons that I will show her through screenshots because I can't allow anyone to find my Tumblr, it's bad enough my sister has it. Normal people encourage eachother, I give xReader content.

Vanitas

You're a real masochist to fall for him. But he's one too so...

He has commitment and attachment issues, how did you manage to get in a relationship with him? No seriously, how the fu-

On a second thought I'm not sure I want to know, but you did it and that's what matters.

You read it right. You did it.

Because I refuse to believe he would take the first step into seriously committing to something aside from his goal. But he can't really say no if you're the one bringing it up, you know what you're getting into after all.

What comes next?

Oh right, dating!

He knows the basics on how to act like he cares, the problem comes when he actually cares. He doesn't really know what to do with himself so he tries to go along with the traditional ways, but probably ends up with impostor syndrome because come on it's Vanitas we're talking about.

Please reassure him it's alright and that you are willing to talk about it.

Aside from this initial problems.

He isn't a cuddler. He doesn't really get what the point of cuddling is.

But please hold him when he's sleeping or resting.

He's the "I'm a knife!" person but he is actually the little spoon.

He likes nuzzling his face against your neck. Also he's like a cat, once he is resting on top of you you're obliged to stay still until he gets up.

Also bite him. Give him hickeys on his neck. It's alright if you hurt him, he likes it.

He'll probably bite you back.

Not big on pet names, maybe the classic "darling" here and there, but mostly he prefers to use your name.

Jealous? Him? The man that can't believe someone would love him? Yes dear, he is.

But he isn't possessive. He hates himself so much that even though he gets jealous as fuck he won't act on it. Maybe he'll sulk in a corner or press his face against your chest, kinda unaware he looks a bit possessive. Or is he?

He's a complicated guy and a relationship with him would require one hell of a effort.

Because he is a fucking rat (as in small and looks like he just came out of a sewer and doesn't really know what is going on but is just filled with chaotic energy).

But he is your rat.

And he loves you.

Little bonus: Vanitas is a package deal, if you get with him you also get his """family""" that will do everything in their power to protect you because they either want Vanitas to be happy (Roland and Noè) or they're worried as to what could Vanitas do if something ever happened to you (the Damps, also Roland and Noè).

Gilbert

He took the initiative to confess.

I mean, he tried.

No but I swear he wanted to say it first.

He just got really flustered and started stuttering and not making much sense.

But you got the message.

He doesn't know a thing about dating though. Please stop him from asking advice to Oz or Xerxes because those little shits (affectionately) will do everything they can to make fun of him.

It will be fun though because he will experiment a bit to understand what he likes and what he doesn't.

He likes cuddles (of course he does, such a touch starved mf).

He loves it when you play with his hair. Just laying down, his head on your lap and your hands in his hair. He can and will fall asleep like that.

Likes to hold you at night. Maybe is the fear of abandonment, but he really needs to feel you in some way when falling asleep and waking up. Even just having your hands touching is fine, but holding you is the best.

Really flustered if you give him hickeys. Will hide them out of embarrassment, also because Oz and Xerxes won't stop teasing him about them.

Gets jealous easily, and once you're in a relationship he will get mildly possessive.

When out together he will hold you hand and always stay by your side. If someone flirts with you Gil will give them a death glare and keep an arm around your waist, then ask you if that person is bothering you.

And will call you by pet names. He prefers your name, but when he feels like he should clarify your relationship status with others he'll call you "dear", "darling", maybe even "love". But he will get flustered about it afterwards, please don't tease him about it. Or do it, your choice.

He's just a bit insecure but he really loves you and wants things with you to work out, so he will put a big effort in this too.

Little bonus: with him, you also gain an enemy/friend, which is Vincent. He either adores you because you care for his big brother and love him, or he hates you because you're taking his big brother from him. Probably swings between the two, depending on the situation and his mood. He won't harm you though, he doesn't want to hurt Gilbert's feelings.

Xerxes

Oh dear you're in for a treat.

Yeah no he tells you right away that he likes you. Probably starts by joking around with you until he can't take it anymore and confesses in the most serious way possible for him.

He leads you through it. Does he have a lot of experience? Not really, but he can guess how things work and he learns quickly and so he takes the initiative in most of the fields.

Pet him. Like whenever he does something good just tell him "Well done" and give him head pats. He loves it and will come looking for you whenever he comes back from a mission or he does some paperwork just for the praises. It's not that he is touch starved and insecure (not as much as you might think because of this behaviour at least) but he likes this kind of "games" with you, where he plays the innocent and cute puppy.

Which he is not.

He kisses you a lot, especially when in public, just to make you flustered. Also teases you about everything.

If you have to walk somewhere together he'll just grab your arm or hand and run, dragging you with him. This mf (affectionately).

Gets easily jealous. Like very easily. If he catches you talking to other members of Pandora for too long he'll throw himself at you (like literally he'll jump at you and grab you like a baby koala) and ask if you still love him loud and clear in front of whoever you were talking to. He knows you do btw. He just likes the drama. Bonus if you're too small or weak to hold him up and so you both fall to the ground, he will keep you on top of him though so you don't get hurt.

He loves weird, unusual or very very sweet pet names in public. You see, half of the fun of this relationship with him is he teasing and annoying you. He will call you "Pudding" during a Pandora meeting, just know he will.

But when you two are alone he kinda melts. You know he wants some real quality time together when he starts calling you by your name.

Overall he's a menace. But... he is your menace (yes that is something he said more than once when anyone mentioned your relationship with him).

Oswald

Oh hell what the actual fuck.

I'm sorry.

He is a good guy don't get me wrong, but he is really focused on his work and his role.

He won't initiate a relationship with you unless you're very insisting. He knows that once he becomes "Glen" he might change and is afraid of hurting your feelings.

But let's be honest Lacie would totally be your wingman, she loves her brother and wants someone who loves him to look after him once she's sent to the Abyss.

So your relationship starts, and let me tell you this is an angsty one.

Because he cherishes every moment he has with you as himself.

He is very intense in every part of your relationship and every moment spent with him becomes a precious memory to the both of you.

He might not be very cuddly, but if you run your fingers through his hair... that might become one of his favourite things.

You can do it randomly during the day he's not shy.

Also he doesn't get jealous, ever. If you're willing to stay with him even though he is supposed to become the next Glen he figured that other people have zero chances with you.

Possessive? Not really either. The most possessive thing he might do is kissing you on the cheek when he greets you in front of others, and even then it's more about showing his love to you rather than showing others that you're his.

Not really a fan of pet names honestly. He likes your name. He might occasionally call you "love", but that's pretty much it. It's understandable for him to prefer people's actual names though :')

After becoming Glen and Lacie's death he will become more distant. Just know that. Everyone copes with pain on different ways, that's how he copes with his. But if you keep staying by his side he'll just warm up to you again, and this time he won't leave your side. Not intentionally that is.

Yes this relationship is the type that will leave you in tears but in the end it was worth it all and you both know it.