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#but the truth is I want to feel like myself and feel like I’m telling the truth
nakahras · 3 days
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᯽ one more hour • chuuya nakahara
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synopsis • you finally find out who chuuya is after months of him lying to you. unfortunately, for chuuya, you’re not the only one that figures out the identity of your boyfriend and that makes you a target.
warnings • intentional lowercase, angst, fem!reader, mild/medium language, verbal arguments, depictions of violence/gore, mentions of guns/knives, depictions of panic/anxiety attacks, hospital setting, mentions of injury/blood, chuuya’s an idiot
wc • 6.2k
a/n • i’ve been in the biggest writing funk. ofc this loser ginger was the one to drag me out of it wiriwiieiwieiqi
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“how long did you plan on lying to me for? were you ever going to tell me the truth or were you going to hope i just never figured it out and let me live in complete ignorance?” you pace around the ginormous penthouse you find yourself in for the first time since your relationship with chuuya had started.
that was almost 7 months ago now. you can’t believe the amount of times you’ve almost said ‘i love you’ to the man standing a few feet away from you in just the last month alone. it’s comical, actually. chuuya isn’t even that person to you anymore, you don’t no longer even know who he is. you knew him as this above average guy that was an executive for some sort of multinational conglomerate. the adoptive son of the ceo. some form of a nepo-kid. that’s how you rationalized him being so successful at such a young age. 
you didn’t even know he had an ability.
you were delusional to think that this relationship was going so well because you had found the perfect guy. the perfect guy doesn’t lie to you about being a mafioso executive.
you stop pacing. you’re the most idiotic person on this planet. you can’t believe this is your reality.
“god, i cannot believe you hid something like this from me, chuuya. i cannot believe i fell for it.”
you have to give chuuya some credit. while you’ve been pacing and practically yelling at him he has annoyingly kept his composure with a straight face. unfortunately for him, that pissed you off even more. you turn to him finally and stare at the man in silence. his composure doesn’t budge. he gazes back but it’s as if he’s looking right through you. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him this emotionless before.
you’re desperate now, trying to rationalize your relationship even after finding out he isn’t who you thought he was. because, for better or for worse, even though you haven’t outwardly said the words to him you had, in fact, fallen in love with chuuya nakahara. 
you feel your stomach churn and waterline burn, you needed him to say something, anything. “are you just going to stand there like a fucking statue all night? or are you going to explain to me what the hell is going on?”
“how did you find out?” his voice is tight but unfeeling, expressionless and cold.
how frustrating of him. instead of answering your questions he asks one of his own. you shouldn’t give him the satisfaction he clearly wasn’t going to give you. you shouldn’t. but you have a bad habit of reacting before thinking about it fully.
“you attacked the armed detective agency at the hospital i work at? how do you think i found out, chuuya? you know how many times you’ve picked me up from there? just because i don’t work in that wing doesn’t mean my coworkers don’t know who you are. they sent me videos of what happened. i had to pretend that wasn’t you. i almost convinced myself of it.” your breathing is becoming erratic and uneven, only shallow and short breaths escaping you.
chuuya looks to the side as if he’s thinking something over then he looks back to you, gaze unchanged. “so other people know?”
“yeah, i’m sure not everyone believed me that it wasn’t you.” you let out a frustrated sigh, “why does that even matter? you should be focusing on the fact that i know.”
“it matters…” the ginger doesn’t give you any further explanation as he pulls out his phone and starts typing. 
you want to pull your hair out. he’s ignoring you almost — actually, you think him ignoring you would be less frustrating. he’s completely dismissing your concerns, questions and feelings on the matter. and now he’s texting someone?
that’s it. you were done with this conversation and you were done with him. maybe for good. you walk away to your belongings. chuuya clearly notices your movement and watches intently as you put your coat back on. 
panic finally settles deep within his chest and his voice cracks with desperation as he asks, “where are you going?”
you notice the change and look back at him from the elevator doors. his face is still expressionless, however, your eyes wander down to his gloved hands and take note of the way he’s gripping his phone just a bit too tightly. you shouldn’t, but you give him one last chance to explain himself, he just needs to give you anything to make you stay. it doesn’t need to be big, it could be the most vague explanation. just something enough that you can grasp onto.
“i’m leaving, unless you plan on answering any of my questions?” you look at him with wide and expectant eyes — they’re hopeful even.
chuuya just stands there, again. his bicolored eyes are filled with regret but he keeps his mouth shut. you let yourself sit in the silence that’s been created for a few moments. letting yourself get worked up. he was really willing to let you go, rather than just tell you what’s going on. 
you let out a shuddered and wet breath, tears welling up in your eyes and lips trembling. “i didn’t think so…”
with that you leave his apartment with a tight chest and damp cheeks.
that was 4 days ago and it has been radio silence on your end. chuuya tried calling you later that night but you didn’t answer. since then, there has been no further attempts on his end either. you weren’t sure if he was giving you space or still didn’t know how to answer your questions, but you think you’d prefer him blowing up your phone with no answers as opposed to nothing at all. you’ve been crying over a quart of ice cream all afternoon. you felt pathetic, sitting on the couch in pajama shorts and a hoodie of chuuya’s that you’re pretty sure was left behind on purpose. 
you lean over to set the now empty ice cream container down on the table of your kotatsu. a whine is heard from your lap and you look down to see your previously sleeping cat glaring up at you with an accusatory look in her eye. your movement had clearly disturbed her umpteenth nap of the day. you look at your little companion with an apologetic smile and pet her as an sorry for moving around so much. the torti is quick to be appeased as she starts purring loudly.
mochi, your cat, was the only thing that got you through this entire debacle. without her, you think you may have let yourself wither away into an empty shell. 
mochi’s ears perk up and suddenly she’s on high alert. the cat leaps off of you and investigates something in the kitchen. you hear her hiss and then a sort of bang. your brows furrow and you let out a sigh, thinking about how she probably just made a big mess in the kitchen as she scurries back in the room to hide underneath the kotatsu, bushy tailed and, oddly enough, growling. 
you shimmy yourself out from under the warmth of the kotatsu yourself and get up to investigate the mess you probably had to pick up. as you near the kitchen you feel a draft — funny, you distinctly remember closing the window in the kitchen. 
᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•
chuuya isn’t even pretending to listen to what’s happening in this meeting. he could feel the concerned gaze he’s getting from kouyou but his nerves are far too shot for him to even pretend to care. all he cares about is you. how you desperately wanted him to open up and be truthful, how betrayed you looked leaving his apartment with tears running down your face, how you wouldn’t answer his phone call that night and how you still hadn’t contacted him to make another attempt at getting him to explain.
chuuya would answer the phone in the middle of this meeting if you called at this very second. he had made up his mind when he finally came to his senses later that night. he always seemed to be one step behind when it came to relationships. being one step behind may be enough to ruin yet another relationship that he cherishes deeply.
the executive can’t comprehend what you’ve done to him. he’s felt on edge since the moment you left the penthouse. his fingers twitch in irritation, his skin crawls, his breath feels constricted. it’s like he’s coming down from a long lasting high. he was having withdrawals. he hasn’t felt this tense and unfocused since he tried to quit smoking a few years back when gin got on his ass about finishing a whole pack in one day.
actually, a cigarette sounded damn good right about now. mori would have a fit though, of course he’s always been a doctor to the core. so, the ginger falls back on tapping his foot incessantly and checking his phone obsessively. 
this meeting feels like it’s dragging, time moving in slow motion almost. it’s only been 30 minutes but to chuuya it feels like 30 hours. it’s agonizing to sit here when what he needs is a distraction. a mission where he can let out his frustration on some opposing force. he’s never been one to complain about meetings but it’s never too late to start.
the executive is ready to leave, literally 30 seconds away from standing up and walking out, but then something happens. one of kouyou’s subordinates urgently walks in and makes a beeline for her. an emergency, clearly, because everyone knows not to disturb an exec meeting otherwise.
kouyou’s eyes widen and flit to chuuya. this worried glance is different from her previous ones. it makes the ginger’s blood run cold and hairs stand on end. if he thought he was on edge before — that was nothing compared to this. 
kouyou wastes no time in reporting the issue as she shoos her subordinate away. “there was activity from one of our many opposing organizations. my people are working on pinpointing which one but… they broke into and vandalized several apartment buildings in the naka ward…” 
kouyou looks at chuuya again. her brows are furrowed in concern, it makes his stomach churn. why is she looking at him like that? what did she even say? chuuya wasn’t focused. he was on the verge of getting up to leave just two minutes ago. 
he was going to leave.
he needed a better distraction from his stewing thoughts of you. the longer he sat here the more time he spent thinking about how he should really just show up at your apartment door. surely, you wouldn’t turn him away if he was willing to finally explain things, right?
“they were all within a 2 kilometer radius of the yokohama city minato red cross hospital-“
mori interjects, “you mean the one you all took the liberty of storming while i was ill due to that cannibalism ability?” 
if chuuya wasn’t paying attention before, he is now. he thinks a knife to the eye would be better than this. physically: the executive is composed and stoned faced — but internally? chuuya is sinking in his seat wishing he would simply disappear. they’re all used to mori’s snide comments, his tongue always being quick and made of silver. sometimes, like today, his comments hit a little harder. 
so, even though they all try to stay composed, chuuya doesn’t miss the way kouyou flinches and once again her eyes flit over to him. 
“yes, mori-san, the same hospital…” the woman sounds almost pained as she talks, her internal panic slowly seeping out through the cracks. “most civilians were unharmed… but there were a couple women who were targeted and are now in critical condition at the same hospital. one of them was pronounced dead by the time she got to the hospital.”
mori hums, eyes cutting over to chuuya. “interesting. chuuya, don’t you have a little friend that lives in the same area?”
there it was. the reason kouyou was so concerned and fidgety. chuuya’s heart sinks and stomach drops to his feet. everything unfocuses, his vision going blurry and swirling. the ginger visibly turns pale and his blood runs cold. his whole body twitches, the need to get up and leave far too strong.
chuuya feels physically ill. how had he not thought of you the second kouyou said what ward it was? he was so busy thinking about himself and wallowing in self pity that he didn’t even think to second guess the information he was being fed. kouyou’s glances tell him it was bad too, or worse, she had no information on your status. 
this was chuuya’s fault. he has this sinking feeling that you were the target. he should’ve known you weren’t safe when you told him people at your work had connected who he was. he should have been more insistent on talking things out. he should have had you come over to his and stay over until he knew you were safe. hell, he should have at the very least set up a detail in your neighborhood.
this was all his fault. 
chuuya abruptly stands up, hands slamming on the table. “i should check on the situation. may i be dismissed, boss?”
“i don’t see why you shouldn’t. report back when you’ve got a handle on…the matter.” mori raises his eyebrows, not bothering to hide his obvious amusement at the executive’s reaction.
chuuya doesn’t notice, he doesn’t even give any of them a second glance as he practically flies out of the room to find the nearest exit to this god forsaken building. he finds an open window and easily hurls himself out of it, using his ability to hurdle himself through the sky. chuuya didn’t even think twice about, maybe, taking a vehicle. his mind was far too muddled to even register what he was doing.
this was all his fault.
he wasn’t looking for practicality right now anyway, he was looking at what would get him there the fastest.
“there” being your apartment. he didn’t want to assume you were attacked. maybe it’s just wishful thinking on his part. chuuya makes it to the average looking building in record time — which he’d boast about in any other situation, but now was not the time.
the gravity manipulator is about to circle your apartment to get to the front but notices something odd. the window at the side of your kitchen was wide open. you never did that, you only left it cracked open when you were cooking. chuuya enters your apartment the same way he left the port mafia building: through a window. 
what he sees next confirms his deepest fears. he’s had actual nightmares about this — or at least he thinks he has, having never actually been able to dream. but he’s woken up in cold sweats, throat raw from screaming, and a pit in his stomach with you on his mind. this was more like a waking nightmare, he imagines this is what the ones he can’t recall are filled with. 
there’s blood on the floor and also splattered across the walls and kitchen utilities. broken kitchenware is scattered across the wooden slats, your oven and fridge are out of place too. an obvious sign of a struggle. you clearly fought back. of course you fought back. chuuya had tried to teach you some self defense but with further observation he had learned that you grew up taking mixed martial arts classes. something about letting out your bad temper in a healthy way.
all the fighting skills in the world couldn’t save you from a bullet though. there was one lodged in your fridge and wall. as chuuya nears the other side of your kitchen he notices the front door is also wide open, two holes in it indicating more shots were set off. 
then chuuya sees it. his stomach churns violently, so much so that he almost doubles over and retches at the sight. a trail of blood that ends at the front of your apartment and then…
a bloody handprint.
your bloody handprint.
chuuya would recognize it anywhere. he’s memorized every detail of your hands from the size down to the swirls in your fingerprints. you had to have dragged yourself out of your home for help. 
chuuya is glued in place. he feels like his whole world is crumbling around him. the edges of his vision going white as the color falls from his grasp. his ears are ringing, the white noise becoming louder as his mind runs wild. 
you weren’t here.
there was so much blood.
the smell of iron stuck to his nostrils.
where were you?
did someone take you to the hospital?
the hospital.
one of the women that was brought there was pronounced dead. even if that wasn’t you… all of the other women were in critical condition. he couldn’t imagine you being okay after seeing the scene laid out before him. 
chuuya was going to be sick. a wave of nausea crashes over him. he feels the bile clawing up his throat. he scrambles over to your kitchen sink, almost slipping on your blood. he doesn’t let anything out at first, just gags and dry heaves. then his eyes sting and what little contents he had sitting in his stomach are released. this time he really does vomit. 
the executive's breathing is shallow and labored. he looks down to where his hands are gripping the sink and realizes they’re now covered in your blood. he holds them up and his breathing quickens. his stomach churns and he shoves his gloves off. stumbling back as he stares at his trembling hands. it was too much. this was different from all of the gore and violence that comes with being in the port mafia. 
it was you, you were in danger and he wasn’t there. he couldn’t help you. he should have been there to help you. he should have kept you safe.
the only thing that brought chuuya back to reality was a high pitched mewl that came from further inside your apartment. chuuya would recognize that little noise anywhere. mochi. he whips around to find the small feline peeking out from under your kotatsu. the orange glow indicating that it was still on. chuuya lets out a sort of wet and shaky breath. 
the ginger gently approaches the clearly spooked creature. he’s never been particularly fond of cats but for some reason yours took a liking to him and he couldn’t help but fall head over heels for the torti. much like he couldn’t help the way he fell for her mother. chuuya reaches out a finger and mochi hesitantly sniffs it. her eyes light up at the gravity manipulator’s familiar scent and nudges his finger with her nose. 
after getting the clear go ahead from the cat, chuuya leans in and picks her up. the torti nuzzles into him and she was still shaking — or maybe that was chuuya. he reaches down and turns the flammable item off before straightening himself and greet the small feline.
“hey, sweet girl, you scared for your mama too?” chuuya’s voice cracks and he knows he needs to get to the hospital but he feels a little guilty just leaving mochi here in this disaster of an apartment.
chuuya sighs and let’s the torti down. he pulls out his phone and sends out a quick message to kouyou, asking her to send a cleaning crew and to pick up the small creature and take her back to the gravity manipulator’s place. her response is sent mere moments after his own. he doesn’t bother responding. 
the ginger strides over to the front door. he makes sure to close it behind him so mochi doesn’t get out then makes a beeline for the hospital.
᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽��᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•
”i’m sorry, sir, i pulled up her chart but you aren’t on her contacts list. unfortunately i’m unable to give you any further information.” the patient services rep behind the counter holds firm on her statement by giving the man a tight lipped smile.
chuuya’s bicolored eyes narrow in frustration. he knows, he knows, that the lady is just doing her job but she’s doing it so infuriatingly well. he’s desperate to know your status and his sanity is slowly losing its grip on him, he’s slipping away with each obstacle. as if answering a silent plea, a tap on his shoulder catches his attention.
the executive swivels around and is met with the sweet old lady that lives next door to you. she was always checking in with you. making sure you had enough to eat and were getting enough rest. you once compared her to your own mother, who is no longer with you but even when she was it was nothing like what the older woman does for you. when you introduced the woman to your boyfriend she was awfully judgemental of him at first, she was making sure he was good enough for you. he didn’t think so but apparently your neighbor thought otherwise, seeing something in him he didn’t see himself.
her usual smile is replaced with a furrowed brow and downturned lips. she was frowning at chuuya, something akin to scolding. the ginger felt oddly accosted by the woman standing before him. she’s never looked at him with so much contempt before.
she folds her arms across her chest and she lets out a huff, “what are you doing here, boy?”
chuuya flinches at her tone like she had just physically slapped him in the face. the ability user quickly recovers though, realizing if she was here that would mean…
you had to be here and you had to be alive, if not your neighbor wouldn’t be standing here in front of him scolding him. no, instead her face would be filled with grief. this was a good thing. 
you were still alive.
“where is she? i need to see her.” chuuya lets out a breath he’s been subconsciously holding in. 
the old lady bristles at his blatant disregard for her own question. “and why should i tell you? y’know, she’s been miserable the last few days because of you? she wouldn’t tell me you were the reason but i could just tell. what did you do to her? is this all your fault?”
chuuya actually takes a step back at her words. he felt like the woman had just punched him in the gut. the older lady packs quite the punch for how small she is, not even standing at 5 feet tall. she’s right, of course, this was all chuuya’s fault. 
it was all his fault.
”i didn’t mean to… she was supposed to be safe. i didn’t tell her anything to keep her safe.” he was rambling now, desperation seeping into his voice. “i just need to see her. please, please, ma’am, you have to tell me.”
the old lady falters, her scowl dropping and a pang of pity spreads across her chest. it doesn’t last long though. the implication of chuuya’s response, meaning he did have something to do with the fact you were in emergency surgery and would be in there for a few more hours.
you’d been rushed to the hospital. thanks to your neighbors, you assailants were scared off by the ambulance and police they called. after the first gunshot went off they were quick to make the call. 
you were brought in with a plethora of injuries. blunt force trauma to the head, 3 gunshot wounds (2 of which were still lodged inside of you), and several lacerations littering your entire body. all of which resulted in severe blood loss and unfortunately for you, since you weren’t the only one to sustain these kinds of injuries, the hospital was on a low supply of blood by the time you came in. 
the old woman is winding up to scold chuuya some more but she’s interrupted by a nurse walking up to her. the woman in scrubs looks exhausted, she must have been in the operating room with you. the nurse also looked worried, she must be a close coworker. 
“nakamura-sama? the surgeon wanted to give you an update…” the nurse’s eyes trail over to chuuya and her demeanor goes from concern to nervous, she nods at chuuya quickly, “please excuse us… nakahara-san…”
oh. she knew who he was. had she been one of your coworkers that he knew? chuuya’s guilt grows as he thinks he should remember who this woman is. this was all so frustrating. no one would tell him anything even if they knew who he was. the executive desperately wants to argue, to stand his ground and find out what was going on.
something occurs to him in that very moment. is this how you felt that day? when chuuya wouldn’t budge, wouldn’t tell you anything. shutting himself off. this was some sick and twisted karma. the universe was laughing in the ginger’s face and he only has himself to blame for it. 
a man’s voice speaks up, “the boy can stay. now why don’t you tell my wife and i how our dear granddaughter is doing?”
the nurse hesitates, looking to the older woman for guidance. mrs. nakamura squints at her husband for an uncomfortably long moment. however, the older man doesn’t seem bothered at all, he must be used to this type of scrutinizing glare from his wife. if chuuya wasn’t so distracted by your status he would be able to acknowledge that he wants that. he wants a future with you and he may be willing to give anything up for that.
mrs. nakamura clicks her tongue. “fine. the boy can stay.”
the nurse eyes chuuya for another moment before explaining your situation. she explains the injuries you sustained. that you’re still in surgery and probably would be for at least a couple more hours. you were doing surprisingly well, a fighter. of course you are. a warmth pools in the ginger’s chest. it was pride. 
“we have hit a small road block. due to the multiple victims being brought in… the blood supply is in the reserves. we have contacted other hospitals in the area and they’ve agreed to deliver us their extra supply. but it’s a process and it may take hours to receive any of it. do any of you know if you’re a match or a universal donor?” the nurse looks at the 3 of them hopefully, her gaze drifting to chuuya more than the other two.
chuuya freezes. he knows that he has type b blood, that’s not the problem. the problem is that he has no idea what your blood type is. he should know that, right? he’s sure you know his, sure you’re in the medical field but it’s common to know your partner's blood type. he should know this. 
he should know this. 
hanged, drawn and quartered. maybe a firing squad or even the guillotine. chuuya lists the ways he thinks he should be executed in his head. he’s had his head so far up his ass with trying to keep you in the dark about who he is that he hasn't even learned the most basic things about you. does he even know your favorite color? your favorite meal? your favorite song? 
this was the most criminal act he’s ever committed and that’s saying something considering the horrific things he’s done for the port mafia. this was bad. unforgivable even. this was all his fault and he couldn’t even tell the damn nurse if he was a match for you or not. 
what the fuck.
what the fuck?
what the fuck was wrong with him?
what does he even say? how does he tell the nurse and the old couple standing next to him that he has no idea if he’s a match for you? he supposes he can play it off. plainly state what his blood type is and leave it to the nurse to figure it out. maybe that could work. it would have to, he doesn’t have another choice. 
but before chuuya can even open his mouth the older man speaks up first. “i'm a universal donor, young lady. you can take some of my blood, i can’t possibly be using it all, i’m sure i have some to spare.”
the older man tries to lighten the situation as he chuckles at his own joke. his wife isn’t amused and even whacks him on his bicep with the back of her hand while clicking her tongue again. the nurse let’s out an uncomfortable laugh and looks to chuuya one last time. of course she would want to take a donation from a healthy young man. 
chuuya shakes his head and hopes to god he’s right when he says, “no, i’m- i’m not a match.”
”i see. mr. and mrs. nakamura, follow me please.”
᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•
your head feels light, like a morning fog had somehow managed to roll in and settle in your mind. everything was so numb and heavy, your entire body felt like lead. you wanted to keep sleeping. you wanted this annoying light behind your eyelids to go away. who the hell left the lights on?
did chuuya forget to turn them off again? why were they so bright? these weren’t your lights at home, they couldn’t be.
where were you? 
why did you feel like you got hit by a bus?
most importantly, where was chuuya?
…chuuya…
oh. 
you remember now. chuuya was an ass. he told you a sugar coated version of his truth. twisted who he was to fit your ideals even though you had never asked that of him. then he ignored you, refused to tell your anything and left you to the solitary confines of your apartment. and then…
your eyes fly open and you gasp for air. you were assaulted in your own home. someone had broken in and attacked you. they had guns and knives. you were shot. 
where were you?
did they take you? no, they were trying to kill you. you’re sure of that. if it hadn’t been for the sirens that scared them away, you’re sure they would have finished you off.
mochi. your poor mochi. she must have been terrified. oh god, they wouldn’t have…she hid right? she was safely under the kotatsu. she had to be unharmed physically. she had to be. you couldn’t be here right now, wherever you were. you had to get home and make sure she was okay.
distantly you hear this annoyingly incessant beeping and… someone's voice? what is it saying? are they speaking to you? your name. they’re calling for you but- 
who is it?
no. it wasn’t anything intelligible, it was screaming. it was your screaming. you were screaming. why were you screaming? 
a wave of fatigue crashes down on you, drowning you in darkness as you sink back into the depths of slumber.
the next time you wake up, you’re less confused. whatever anesthesia you were previously under obviously had worn off by now. the fog was certainly lifted and you were thinking much clearly now.
you haven’t opened your eyes yet but just by hearing the beeps coming from the monitors next to your bedside, you could piece together you are in the hospital and therefore you are safe. more importantly you’re alive. you try to bring your hand up to rub at your eyes but there’s a weight holding it down.
your brows furrow at the restriction. you stir only slightly, any movement you made right now was agonizing. you let out a grunt as a shooting pain courses through the entirety of your body. this wasn’t good, something like this was going to take a lot of time and physical therapy to recover from. 
how frustrating-
“are you awake?” his voice is gruff, filled with exhaustion but it was clear who was speaking to you.
you could pick out his voice from millions others. even worse, his voice never fails to soothe your soul. instantly your body relaxes from whatever tension it’s been managing to hold onto. traitor. you’re supposed to be upset with him. you should yell at him, kick him out. 
but… he stayed. he was here, he found you and stayed. how unfair. you’re tired, too tired to deny yourself the comfort he brings you. because despite everything, it’s still him. 
you think it will always be him.
so instead of crying or yelling or getting upset you simply give in. “yeah. i’m awake.”
you open your eyes, finally, to look at him. he looks like shit, it would be funny under any other circumstance. his hair is a mess, clearly he had been tug at it, nervously running his fingers through it. his usual under eye bag had bags. the dark circles a stark contrast against his porcelain complexion. 
if it weren’t for the fact that you were the one in the hospital bead, you’d think you two were here for him. after you examine him you look at his expression. it’s grim, he looks truly pathetic. you can only describe it as being akin to a wounded puppy. 
you let out a sigh but before you can even get another word out, he’s speaking. “i should have told you. i wasn’t thinking about you- i know i wasn’t but i convinced myself i was. i convinced myself that i was keeping you safe by not telling you but- i was a damn fool for that. this is all my-“
”chuuya, shut up.” this was so painful, you didn’t want to hear any of this. 
you are tired. you just want him to be there for you. you want him to comfort you. you just want your boyfriend. at this point you couldn’t care less about the bullshit he kept from you. at the end of the day it was his character you’ve fallen in love with and that was more than enough for you.
chuuya looks at you stunned. his words catch in his throat and he thinks he might actually cry. it’s been a while since he’s had the urge to cry like this. was this it? he almost lost you to death. now he was going to lose you in another way and he only had himself to blame. 
the ginger can’t even blame you for your decision. 
after all, this was all his fault.
“i don’t give a shit about who you are. tell me. don’t tell me. whatever. you found me and you’re here now. i just need you to be here. i-“ you choke on your words, you hadn’t realized but you’d started crying and it hurt. “i love you. i need you to not blame yourself for this because you need to be here for me and show me you can do this. please show me you can do this, i wont ask for anything-“
you can’t finish your thought. your lungs are constricted as you're held in his vice grip. you missed him. god, you missed him so much. his embrace is home. he’s your home and that’s terrifying. despite what you said you still have so much to learn about him. chuuya scares you but only because you feel so incredibly safe with him. 
you’ve never had that before and something tells you he’s never had that either. 
“i’m here. hell and back, i will always be here for you.” it wasn’t a direct admission but you don’t question it. this is the closest you’ll come to a declaration of love from chuuya for now and you’re okay with that. truthfully, you didn’t expect him to say anything.
you try your best to return the hold chuuya has on you. you get an arm around him loosely and rest your forehead on his shoulder. you’re still crying, like a baby. it would be embarrassing if it was anyone else. his hand is holding your head gingerly. it’s comforting and you manage to calm yourself down. you pull back, still sniffling but eyes no longer producing tears. 
your eyebrows furrow, something pressing returning to the forefront of your mind. “did you stop by my apartment? has anyone checked on mochi? is she okay?”
chuuya finally smiles for the first time in what feels like days — it might have actually been days since he last did. he pulls out his phone and produces a picture of the torti that kouyou had sent him. he hands the phone to you and you smile fondly as you let out a small puff of air, relief spreading throughout your chest.
“i asked kouyou to bring her to my apartment for the time being. i think she’s taken a liking to it.” 
you look at the picture then back up at chuuya, entirely unamused. “have you seen your apartment. i could fit like five of mine in it? of course she likes it there.”
something warm spreads across chuuya’s entire being. this scene is oddly familiar. reminiscent of the older couple from earlier. this was pure happiness, this is what it felt like. 
chuuya was going to make sure to cherish it deeply and keep it safe at all costs.
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jflemings · 2 days
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— loose lips sink ships pt4
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pairing: jessie fleming x reader pt 1, pt2, pt3
synopsis: jessie’s lack of proper explanation has her pleading
warnings: so so angsty, language
a/n: lol
୧ ‧₊˚ 🍁 ⋅ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
the tick of your eyebrow tells jessie that this isn’t going to be one of those times when you two talk it out.
“great!” you say clapping your hands “so do you mind telling me why you said that bullshit instead of behind honest with me about your two and a half year relationship?” your falsely cheery tone paired with the sarcastic smile across your face is unsettling for jessie. “and while you’re at it, why don’t you tell me what the problem with this photo is?” you say as you slide your phone across the counter. the photo that was on jordyn’s story stares back at jessie.
“y/n” the canadian starts “i really— it’s not—” she huffs and scrubs a hand over her face. “i was standing up before the photo and she moved over so i could sit down. there wasn’t much room so we had to squish together, and she stood up pretty much immediately after the photo was taken”
you nod once as you purse your lips “and the lying?”
“i didn’t mean to” jessie says, now leaning back “it just came out and i don’t know why i didn’t correct myself”
her reasoning makes you feel worse. you think you maybe would’ve preferred her purposely lie and stick to it, rather than stick to an accidental lie for almost four years. tears begin to well in your eyes as you watch jessie cast her gaze to the floor in front of her.
“so you kept up with an accidental lie for almost four years because… what? because you couldn’t tell me the truth afterwards? because you didn’t think it was anything? like, what was the reason, jessie”
“it’s not like i thought about it!” jessie stresses “it never came up again so i forgot about it”
“until you saw her again, right?” you spit at her, folding your arms over your chest.
your girlfriend stays silent and rolls her head on her neck. she continues to not say anything as she scuffs her shoes against the floor.
you can’t help but laugh at yourself. you feel stupid, so, so stupid. “it took you less than twenty four hours to, what?, second guess your four year long relationship? are you—”
“i’m not second guessing shit” she says, now looking at you “don’t even start with that”
“start with what jessie?” you raise your voice and push off the wall “start with the fact that there’s every chance that i’m just a rebound you got in too deep with? that we were seeing eachother and you weren’t over her?”
jessie pinches her eyebrows together “you weren’t a rebound! i wasn’t even looking to date when janine introduced us—”
“because you were still in love with her”
“jesus christ, will you let me finish?” jessie grits out.
“when you start telling me something that’s gonna make me believe that our whole relationship isn’t just because i was the first person shoved under your nose when you got to london” you sneer at her.
jessie deflates, her hands going lax by her sides “is that seriously what you think?” she asks quietly “that i only started dating you because you were there?”
“what am i supposed to think, jess? that it was a coincidence that we started dating just after you get out of an almost three year long relationship?” tears fall down your face at the thought of janine introducing the two of you so jessie could get over her ex. you turn your face away from her and sniffle.
“it was a coincidence” jessie stresses “i didn’t want to date anybody, and janine thought i needed friends outside of the club so she introduced us. that’s seriously it” she says as she approaches you carefully.
you look at her through tears “did seeing her again bring up old feelings?”
jessie hesitates and bites the inside of her cheek before looking away. you don’t try to get her to look at you, don’t try to get her to answer you quicker, you simply just wait. it’s only now that you get to fully take in what she looks like. her unbrushed bed head, her oversized ‘i heart aus’ t-shirt she wears to sleep, the way one sock is kind of flopping off her foot whilst the other is still on. the version of jessie in front of you is your normal, your safe space.
this version of jessie likes her eggs made a particular way and buries herself under the covers to avoid the sun when she wants to sleep in; she wakes you up with kisses all over you face and tells you corny jokes, and she doesn’t have the weight of a nation’s expectations on her shoulders. she’s carefree and so full of love that sometimes she doesn’t know what to do with it.
this jessie is the love of your life, and right now you feel like you’re watching her slip through your fingers.
when you watch silent tears fall down her face you know you’ve got your answer. you shut your eyes “right” you say coldly before turning around and heading for your shared bedroom.
jessie’s head snaps towards your retreating form “wait, y/n!”
“jessie i can’t” you say as you grab a bag out of your closet. you begin pulling clothes you know you’ll need: training, home and away kits, socks, underwear, pyjamas, a few shirts and jeans. you count them in your head and then stuff them in your bag just as jessie comes into the room.
“what are you doing!?” she half shouts as she closes the wardrobe “can you please let me explain before you take off?”
you don’t stop walking around your shared bedroom “i just gave you a chance to and you couldn’t look me in the eye” you spit at her, not turning around to look at her.
a fresh wave of tears fall down jessie’s face “i was trying to figure out what to say, y/n, please!”
she walks around the bed to you, putting her hand over yours when you open your bedside drawer to grab your watch. her hand is warm and soft wrapped around yours and you are filled with the overwhelming urge to give into her. you turn your head to face her.
“p-please” she stutters “i swear, i have an explanation for all of it” she whispers to you, trying to hold eye contact through teary eyes “please don’t leave”
you own lip trembles “i need to, for a few days at least” you whisper back to her, pulling your hand out from under hers “it’ll give you time to think about whatever it is you want to say”
“but i don’t need time, i—”
“i do” you interrupt “you have no idea what finding this out has done to me, jess. i just need to step back”
the canadian looks defeated as you move to your bathroom to pack up your toiletries bag. she’s rooted to her spot and find herself wondering how she got here when it was only yesterday morning the two of you were rolling around in bed giggling.
she harshly wipes her tears as you slip your shoes on. the sight of her makes you want to drop everything and wrap your arms around her, make sure she knows that you still love her, but you can’t. you can’t stand here and deny yourself time apart, even if it is just a day or two.
“i’m gonna go stay with sam” you sigh “i just— i really think we both need a little bit of time”
jessie helplessly nods “okay” she whispers as you pick up your bag “i love you”
you bite your lip and turn to her, the weight of the duffel bag in your hands suddenly getting a lot heavier “i love you too” you whisper back to her, hopefully not for the last time.
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whenmemorydies · 2 days
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I’m thinking about Richie’s apology to Nat in 2x09 Bolognese when he says,
I think for a long time, I didn’t really know where I fit, you know, and I would shove myself into, like, places and things where I definitely did not fit. And I think that that probably, definitely, made things worse. And I’m sorry if I took anything out on you and if I treated you like shit.
In the same episode, Richie and Sydney acknowledge that they’re both only children and Sydney tells Richie that it’s nice he had Carmy and Nat. Richie tells Syd that now she does too. It’s a sweet moment between them and reminded me how belonging has driven so much of Richie’s actions in this show.
Just a theory but I think Richie and Natalie dated, probably briefly and probably when they were much younger. It didn’t end well and that’s contributed to Natalie’s long-running anger at him for most of the first two seasons of the show. (Nat’s also probably angry at him cos Richie is Richie: what I imagine happens when a proto-incel, QAnon, 4chan, Snyder-cut motherfucker somehow manages to be in romantic relationships despite his personality lol.)
It would also explain Richie’s (and maybe Mikey’s and Carmy’s) antagonism towards Pete. I can’t understand why those guys hate on that angel of a man so much otherwise. I reckon Richie resents Pete because he couldn’t be more different to Richie and the men in the Berzatto house, but also because Natalie chose him. It probably felt like a rejection not just of Richie as her ex but of her family too. Confirmation of a truth sitting under the surface they don’t want to excavate: that the Berzatto home often feels like a trap and that their codependence is toxic. And that Natalie got out but they’re still stuck, quicksand gripping their calves and keeping them in place.
I can see a young Richie crushing on his best friend’s sister cos she’s straightforwardly pretty and he’s not complicated in that department…Sugar talks back to Mikey and he loves seeing her eyes flash when she does. Sometimes he teases her just to have some of it directed at him. He name drops Denis Savard at her, lets her know that he got that Ceres pamphlet from behind the bar, cos he has connections like that. He’s also seen her recoil when Donna’s on one and laying into her and it makes him feel a type of way, wanting to protect her maybe. But mostly, if he can be with Sug, he’d become a Berzatto. He’d stop being Cousin cos he’d be Brother instead.
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peachkkuma · 3 days
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📓. DIARY ENTRY 12︴JUNE 5, 2024
dear loass diary…
this couldn’t have happened any longer than ten minutes ago but I’ve finally felt what it’s like to be nailed to a state. and let me tell u this, it wasn’t the state I wanted. I’m sitting here on my bedroom floor rn, my actual diary laid out in front of me along with some pens. I was about to journal, mainly because I was feeling anxious about my circumstances, but here’s the thing. Yesterday, I made the goal to really live in imagination and try to be in it as much as I can. I wanted to know what it was like to be completely nailed to a state. Not even to get anything but because I want to and because it feels nice. anyways, back to that anxious feeling— I was thinking to myself “wait why am I feeling anxious? this doesn’t even make any sense I was happy with my state and my imagination yesterday-” until it hit me that I already was nailed to a state, the one I was trying to let die. the one that was home to my “circumstances”. the way I saw myself, saw my life, the thoughts running through my head, the plans I had for myself, the way I felt about my reality was all a perfect match for the state I didn’t want. and it was at that moment where I really felt the realization hit me. yk, the 3D can feel so real at times with all of its five senses and stuff that sometimes, I forget it’s a state. and I’ve always wanted to know what it was like to completely bask in a state, so to have realized that I’ve already been capable of doing that— that I’ve already been doing that, was just so…eye opening? and it kinda answers my annoyance, I was wondering why I still felt so worried when the truth was, how was I supposed to ever feel something else if that was the state I was so aligned with? I saw an example on another tumblr post— I’ll link it here —that said how someone wealthy like Elon Musk was used to being in the state of being rich, so it would be hard for him to fall into a state of poverty. I am so used to this state— the anxiousness, the incapability, the not being satisfied —that I merely fell into the sowf, and then climbed out of it. and because I quickly stopped identifying with it, because I went from having it to worrying about the things of my unwanted state, I was back in my unwanted state. and ofc, the thing that started this whole realization, I was thinking about things and my desired self. I was thinking about how I embodies my desired self yesterday and how that felt so… like, far away? ig? like it felt like it could never be me and I was surprised that I felt like I could ever be anything other than what I am now. and that’s actually the moment when I realize I had nailed myself to this state. now, thank god for this realization because it was just what I needed to snap me out of this cycle of worry. this means two things, 1. nailing yourself to a state is way less complicated than it sounds, it’s totally natural and 2. I am capable of completely embodying a state— u might be thinking, yeah no kidding we all can, but sometimes u just have to feel something in order to truly know it and that’s my case —and if I can do it with my unwanted state then I can sure as hell do it with my desired state. because what’s the difference? actually, I’ll tell you what the difference is. all states are equal, they’re neutral, nothing but a state. but I unknowingly decided to place one on a pedestal, I decided that because I wanted my desired state I would be harder to embody. but it’s just a state. and I’m reality, I’m imagination, I can make whatever I want come to life, whether the state seems desirable or not. that’s just how it goes, all states are available for me to occupy and then manifest. and I need to understand that, I need to get it in my head that happiness isn’t above me, that it should be natural and normal for me to have— tumblrs telling me that this is getting too long so this’ll be continued in another post #yappertron3000 🤓 (click here to read part two)
kisses, Tiffany
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strohller27 · 5 months
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#I’m just gonna use this blog as a diary because. y’know. I already do. anyway#I don’t know what’s gotten into me recently but I just feel like. like I’m supposed to be ‘further along’ in my life than I am now?#and like. I know it’s bullshit because. the milestones I was told I would hit as I grew older have definitely not been predictable#they tell you you’ll get a job and a car and a significant other and you’ll get married and buy a house and have kids and grow old and die#and it’s like. that’s all we’re given to measure our lives by; these big milestones.. people are supposed to feel accomplished when they hit#but those things are just titles to chapters like. nobody tells us that there’s all this other plot happening between those pages#and so yeah I mean. it feels like I’m not on the right chapter and I really want to skip ahead but like#the truth is. I’m not even to the climax yet. I’m still in the lore-dump stage of ny story#and that’s been so hard for me to accept recently. I’m yearning to be in the chapter where I fall in love and get married#but that’s just it like. that chapter comes earlier in other people’s stories than it seems to be in mine#although I’ve fallen in love many times. I’m not at the ‘get married’ chapter. because it’s not the right part of the story yet#and sometimes I wish I could just find the author of my story and tell them HEY GET ON WITH IT ALREADY because things seem to be moving so#so slowly. and yet they’re moving so fast I simultaneously feel like I’m running out of time#like. why do some people deserve to have co-stars in their stories from almost the very beginning who stick by those protagonists and grow#together? What did I do in my last story to deserve such a lonely one this time around?#Why am I so unlucky that I have good close friends that stick by me and all I know how to do is hold them at arms length because I don’t#think our relationships are quite as deep as I feel that I need out of a relationship?#why is my story about desparately trying to find a place where I feel comfortable enough to belong and share myself with others#and hey. why am I not at that part of my story either?#and maybe it’s that I don’t do enough. as a protagonist my toxic trait is that I’m pathologically suspicious of others#if someone shows interest in me I’m suspicious of why. what are they trying to get from me. because in the past people have taken from me#without giving much back. and if someone wants to date me I’m immediately suspicious of their intentions.#because I’ve realised that there’s much more to being in a relationship than ‘you’re hot let’s fuck’. and I know that’s not what I want#I want to be at the part of my story where I can share myself with someone without worrying that they’re going to take more than I can give.#I want to be at the part of my story where I can trust someone with myself when I’m fragile and they can trust me with themselves as well#I want to be at the part of my story where my life slots together well with someone else’s; so well it just feels normal and right.#I want to be at the part of my story where…I know I could live without this person because we can both take care of ourselves but.#it’s just preferable to spend time and solve problems and exist *together*#and you’ll have to forgive me for saying so but I’ll need physical affection from that person whoever they may be#I feel like certain things are falling into place. I like where I am. now I want to set down roots. and I can’t. I’m not at that page yet.
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tutuandscoot · 1 year
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Wow ok this is random as hell but I was watching this on IG and someone in the video says something that I just had a light bulb moment over TS about:
“You can see the quality of their relationship in their dancing”.
I mean 🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯
WHY HAVE I NEVER THOUGHT TO SAY THAT!?!?!?! I mean I’ve probably said something along the lines of it.. but like that’s it in one sentence. Also the fact that no matter the style they are dancing you kind of feel like you want to cry.. because it’s so emotional, not the moves or the music but… THEM.. they make you emotional.
Ok I’m gonna stop there because I have zero self control and will keep babbling on forever so yeh that’s it for now
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cowboykakashi · 1 year
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:|
#Alexa I am so so sad#ugh it’s stupid I’m so sick of being sad#and everyone is sick of hearing about it wah wah sad again just like yesterday and the day before ad nauseum#ugh. well tell you all the truth I’m kinda ugly and all of my new coworkers are so fucking pretty and it makes me feel like shit every day#I don’t want to assume bad things about them cuz they seem like genuinely good people mostly but I do feel like they all look down on me#for being both ugly and bad at my job like fuck dude I really got nothing to offer here other than the fact that I fucking show up#if you know me irl please leave me some fucking dignity and don’t read this I’m already ashamed enough for having feelings in the frst plac#this is so stupid just cuz I met a coworker for the first time that I am extremely attracted to that is way out of my fuckin league#and like I haven’t been interested in A Person in ? almost 2 years cuz every time I have been in the past#in the last 4 years at least it has ended poorly with me feeling like shit like no one will ever want me#and at this point honestly I can’t help but believe that cuz it’s been a long fucking time since anyone has#is it cuz I’m ugly ? is it cuz I’m weird ? cuz I have fucking nothing to offer ?#cuz I’m desperate for affection attention someone to give a shit about me fucking anything#god I don’t know but I feel like I am really and truly at the end of my rope here and I don’t know what to do with myself#shut up satan#negativity
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cats-in-the-clouds · 2 years
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is it selfish to feel lonely and want human friends in my life despite having God who is of course worth more than anything or anyone else
#sigh#God is enough for me there is nothing i shall want#and all that#but then also i feel like we humans are naturally social creatures and we want tangible connections and all that#i have plenty of friends but also no true friends because they don’t know the real me#aka that i’m Catholic and i follow the teachings of the Church etc#you know how well that flies in today’s society#i’m too much of a pathetic coward to tell them the truth i’m such a bad witness to my faith#i just pretend to agree with their obscene falsehoods to keep myself safe#but that’s because i have no one else to fall back on if they reject me#i’ll be truly and utterly alone in this world with only God for company#and my mental health is already so fragile i can’t take a hit like losing all my friends#but perhaps they were never really my friends at all if we aren’t honest with each other#wish i knew what to do#i’ll leave them behind if i have to if that’s God’s plan for me#it’s just not like i know what else to do afterwards#i still care about them too but i have strong doubts that they’d even remotely be willing to hear me out#they really think they know me and they express so much genuine concern for me as a person and here i am#lying by omission every day to them#and that’s because i used to believe what they believe once upon a time#but since then i’ve changed and given my life to God but i suffered quietly through that transition#without having the courage to tell them what was going on#would it really have been better if i had just told them back then a few years ago? idk#i feel like dirt#what a fine mess i’ve gotten myself into
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touchlikethesun · 19 days
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#i would sorta like to understand how my parents can say such unbearably cruel things to my face#and think that they’re helping me#i get that other people in my life might not tell me the truth bc they don’t want to hurt me#but there’s a difference between being honest and being cruel#between being realistic and projecting your own dissatisfaction#and in the same breath they’ll ask me why i have no confidence in myself and tell me that i’ve wasted all my potential & it’s too late for#like#not that everything is their fault i am entirely responsible for not planning better#but how can they say something like that and think that they’re doing me a kindness#it just does not compute#this conversation happened yesterday and it was an hour of them venting their frustrations at me#frustrations that i fucking share!!!!! just for the record!!!!!#and then getting mad when i didn’t respond with some sort of hail mary like actually everything was fine#like what did they expect me to say#it also feels just so manipulative how much they insist that they are the only ones that care about me#that no one else in my life is reliable#which is already something i believe bc who would ever want to put up with all my bs outside of brief dinner parties#but i also can’t rely on them because everytime i have they’ve turned it against me like a weapon#so doesn’t that just mean that i genuinely have no one??? that i’m genuinely alone???#and i know i know they are like this because of their own trauma and their own issues#but i can’t manage myself much less manage all their emotions#it’s just such an awful situation#i’ll stop there the longer i type the more i spiral#but i am just extremely disappointed in myself that i couldn’t hold on to my good productive mood from last week for even a single day#after getting back#personal#vent
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insanechayne · 2 months
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~ ~ ~
#I love my bestie and trust that he’s telling me the truth about a family emergency being the reason he’s cancelling our concert plans#but he flakes on me every single time we make plans together to do anything so it’s hard to be as understanding when there’s a pattern here#and after all the shit he’s told me his brother has done to him why are you still helping him?? I can’t relate to this whole idea of do#anything for family even if your family is trash and would never do the same for you#probably because I have family who is trash and would never do anything for me and I cut them off real quick when I was able#I do not believe in letting people stick around who do nothing but use you and hurt you#so I want to be sympathetic and understanding but couldn’t be me and can’t relate so I’m struggling#plus the constant flaking on me makes me less compassionate as well#I bought these concert tickets months in advance and he was supposed to pay for the hotel room for us to stay out after the show#and yeah he’ll pay me back which is nice but doesn’t really change the fact that I’m currently out that money and everything else#and if my partner or stepdad can’t come with me last minute like this then I’ll have to just sell the tickets back to Ticketmaster#because I really don’t want to go by myself since it’s my first concert and I’d feel awkward and uncomfortable being alone there#was already having trouble sleeping and now I got this fucking nonsense to deal with#guess it’s my own fault for making plans with someone I know never keeps them#personal
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sleepymaddy · 8 months
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Crying for a Cowardly Wolf
A sketch of a vent metaphor that felt like a good comic
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pendarling · 3 months
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Confessing & Leading To A Confession Dialogue Prompts
“Look, I know I’m not what your dream partner would’ve looked like, but I think we could work.”
“Fuck, I… I think I’m in love with you.”
“This is gonna sound crazy, but what if we… y’know got together?”
“Whenever I see you with someone else I can’t help but feel hurt."
“There isn’t anyone else but me! I’m the one!”
"There's a reason why I kissed you, idiot."
“No, wait, I have something to tell you.”
"I don't know... but I feel a lot of different things when I look at your face."
“How could you be so blind? I’m right here.”
"Don't make me say it out loud."
"My attention is always undivided for you"
"There's something I've been keeping from you."
"You already know what I'm about to say."
"I want to be more than what this is."
"I don't go around telling everyone these things you know."
"It's real this time. Not a fleeting love."
"You're my priority."
"Don't feel ashamed, it's mutual."
"But I don't want them, I want you."
"You need me just as much as I need you."
"Our future-- or-- I mean..."
"Is that door locked properly?" "Yeah." "Okay, I need to get this off my chest now."
"Sorry I've been avoiding you. I knew we couldn't see each other if I couldn't keep myself under control."
"It's not your fault I got all these ideas in my head."
"Maybe I'm crazy, but I started to imagine what I'd do without you and I really couldn't"
"Just promise to return I have something I need to share with you."
"Had I known all this would've happened, I would've told you the truth from the start."
"I was thinking about it and I've decided it's best if I just told you everything."
~~~
MASTERLIST
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snifferish · 7 months
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I’m sick and tired of sharing the Minecraft space with people who have no interest in creating a safe space online - especially for a game rated for like kids and teens like.
It’s the reason I feel myself cringe when I tell people I make Minecraft content, not because I’m embarrassed it’s a kids game but because of the people that have notoriously occupied the space.
I’m sick of it, and the truth is, it’s all so much worse behind the scenes, and I can’t just stop and leave because its my job, and this game has become my LIFE.
Anyone who doxes, harasses, threatens, harms, or abuses power have no place in my community and aren’t welcome.
That includes other content creators
Sorry for the little rant post. I’ve been upset for months, and yet I’ve never felt like it was something I could share because I myself didn’t feel comfortable. So many memories and experiences new and old swirling around and clouding my mind.
I appreciate you guys so much, and above all I want you, adult or child, to remain safe online and offline.
And with that, please remember to listen to victims!!!
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bettsfic · 2 years
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today is my birthday! i’m 33 today and i have done an ungodly amount of stupid shit in my life that honestly probably should have gotten me killed. so here are 33 hard-won things i’ve learned that i wish someone had told me sooner.
whenever you buy an object, you are going to own that object for your entire life unless you make the conscious decision to throw it away or give it a new home. maybe other people don’t struggle with this as much as i do, but i’ve grown to become a little exhausted by finding a thing and realizing i don’t want it anymore, but i don’t have the energy or motivation to do anything with it. signed, a woman with a packed 10x10 storage unit who is now extremely hesitant to buy new things.
food, and by that i mean good food (and by that i don’t necessarily mean healthy food, but food of good quality that you love), is necessary to live, and buying it, preparing it, and eating it is not a chore. the sooner you accept this and make food a priority in your life, the healthier you’ll be. 
speaking of food, not everything you buy should be the cheapest version of it. personally i’ve found it’s always worth it to splurge on good olive oil, butter, and canned tomatoes. for years i thought i was an awful cook because i was cooking with cheap, disgusting olive oil that made my food taste like shit.
speaking of food part 2, i can’t BELIEVE how long this took me to figure out, but mise en place is the real real. get your shit out and organized and prepped *before* you start cooking, even if it makes things take longer. and yes, it is always worth it to do the dishes as you go, which pisses me off.
when i was teaching myself how to cook and feeling daunted about it, the best advice i ever got was to aim to learn 15 recipes and then put them in rotation.
this is the most horrific and awful truth i have forced myself to accept: there may come a day you can no longer digest your favorite foods, and you will either have to stop eating them, or remain very close to a toilet. i’m sorry.
other people are always going to misperceive you and misunderstand you, sometimes willfully. other people’s opinions of you don’t actually have anything to do with you. they’re not your business, and you don’t have to worry about it or change yourself.
when innocuous or neutral things make you irrationally angry or upset, step back, realize you’re having a big reaction, and then when you’re ready, pay very close attention to the thing that upset you, because you’re about to learn something important about yourself.
a pill sorter can save your life. i don’t know how i managed my meds without one.
sometimes college is about learning stuff, and not about becoming something.
no matter how many perfectionist tendencies you have, it’s worth it to remind yourself that no matter how much of a mess you actually are, you deserve to be loved.
if you’re always forgetting to do important but tedious things, set an alarm and set aside one hour of each week, not to do the important tedious things, but to assess what needs to be done, and *schedule* the important tedious things for the following week. this literally changed my life.
during that hour, make a meal plan too. the point of doing this is condense the time in which you’re making decisions (what to do, what to eat, etc) so you don’t have to burden yourself with them throughout the week. decision fatigue is real. any way you can alleviate that is a good thing.
learn the difference between aggressive, passive, passive-aggressive, and assertive behavior. recognize when you’re being one of the first three, re-assess and aim for being assertive, even if it’s hard.
you can tell you’ve processed trauma, not when the traumatic thing stops upsetting you to think about, but when the traumatic thing takes up the same size in your brain as all your other memories.
if you’re one of those people who never seems to finish projects or follow through with things, there’s a chance you may just grow out of it naturally. until then, follow your interests and don’t feel bad about putting down a hobby to pick up another.
if you love stickers but have sticker anxiety, buy vinyl stickers. you can re-stick them.
there are only a few careers i can think of that you have to commit to early in life because getting the undergraduate credentials is a pain in the ass (teachers, doctors, and engineers, from my research). nearly everything else you can switch to later, which takes a LOT of pressure off having to figure out what you want to do with your life.
people say there’s no money in becoming an artist, writer, musician, etc. actually there’s a ton of money in all of those things, it’s just in the stuff other people want you to make and never what you want to make. it’s still worth it to develop the creative skill and not force yourself into business school because it’s more “practical” or whatever. 
sleep when you’re tired. SLEEP WHEN YOU’RE TIRED. don’t beat yourself up about it, don’t tell yourself you shouldn’t be tired or that you’ve already slept too much, just take a fucking nap. you would never say “hm i’ve already had enough water today, therefore i should not be thirsty” so don’t treat sleep the same way.
when you build a piece of furniture from target or ikea or whatever, the first thing you should do is count all the little screws and things to make sure everything’s there that should be. it sucks to get halfway into putting something together only to find there’s a piece missing and you have to go buy it.
learn to travel by yourself, go out to eat by yourself, see a movie by yourself. in my early 20s i was scared to do these things, but i do them so often now i don’t even think about it. it’s the most fulfilling skill i’ve ever learned.
adding to the above, if you’re a people-pleaser, being alone is especially important, because you’ve probably developed the habit of making the people you’re with more comfortable and happy than yourself, and you’re missing a lot of the beautiful and interesting things around you. when you’re by yourself, you can focus on what *you* want without guilt. 
sometimes you’ll want to break things off with a friend for reasons that are no one’s fault, and you don’t want it to be volatile or make a big thing of it, in which case the goal is to simply fade out of their life. it is okay to let people go.
shame is useless. get rid of it.
no matter how much of yourself you put into your art (or writing, or music, or whatever), when people criticize it, they are not criticizing you. they are having a reaction colored by their own tastes and perspectives. their opinion of your work has nothing to do with you. you don’t have to take everyone’s feedback. in fact you don’t have to take anyone’s feedback. the other side to this coin unfortunately is that compliments don’t have anything to do with you either. it’s good to accept this because it means you’ll stop seeking validation from other people and won’t let anyone else’s perspectives impact your work. anything nice anyone says about your work is merely a bonus to an already good thing.
if you’re an artist of any kind, take one day a year to look up opportunities like grants, funding, residencies, workshops, whatever. put the due dates of all of them on a calendar for the year following and get into the habit of applying for stuff. getting rejected sucks, application fees suck, but in all the years i’ve been doing this, it has always, always been worth it. these things give you a chance not only to help fund and support what you’re passionate about, but they force you to take your own work seriously, and that is something that’s absolutely necessary in order to be successful.
you must become your own greatest advocate. in all respects--in health, in love, in happiness, in freedom, you must. no one will ever fight as hard for you as you will. this in turn will give you the strength and motivation to help others fight for themselves too. the only way the world will ever get better is if every person on this planet learns to see themselves as equals to everyone around them.
brag about yourself as often as you can. for one, people develop their perceptions of you based on how you treat yourself and speak about yourself. but for two, it’s the fastest way to figure out which people to keep in your life, because they’re the ones who are going “oh hell yeah, you’re awesome.” 
be the person other people want to brag to.
at some point in your life, someone is going to hurt you, and it’s going to be willful and intentional. it is not worth it to waste brain space figuring out why they did it or why you think you deserved it. all you have to do is let yourself feel that pain, acknowledge it, and try to move on.
no matter how bad off you think you are, recovery is possible. the first and hardest step is to learn you’re worth the time and effort it takes to recover from the awful things that have happened to you.
developing an expertise does not mean you’re getting objectively better at something. becoming an expert is only the process of seeing your mistakes and having the patience to sit in the discomfort of not knowing how to fix them.    
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dakotalun · 11 months
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"Oops" | Eddie Munson
pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem Reader
summary: Part 2--Reader now confronts Eddie about his text last week. Feelings are spilled and sheets are ruined.
warnings: oral (f. receiving), praise kink, pet names (good girl, baby, sweetheart, sweets, honey), dom!eddie, fingering, cunnilingus, degradation (brat, slut, whore, cockslut), squirting, aftercare
word count: 3.8k
a/n: This is part 2 to "Oops", which we now get into the real reason you all are here.
Part 1
*******NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS*******
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He had to lie about talking to Callie from chem but it was better than the truth. He knew then that you didn’t feel the same way as him, and it hurt him. He meant to delete the photo after you ended the call but his mind was too clouded so he took a walk and forgot about it later on. If only he knew what you did that night looking at said photo.
“The truth?” Eddie didn’t know why there was this sudden burst of courage rushing through him, maybe it was the beers, or the weed or maybe it was just the fact that he needed to tell you how he felt, no matter what your answer was.
You nod your head at his question, turning to get a good look at him. His eyes were shut as he leaned against the wall, his neck stretched enough to show his adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly.
“Yes.” You’re confused for a second, yes he didn’t know or yes he did know? “I knew it was you, I mean.” 
Oh. Oh, OH! Your brain scrambles thinking back to the picture and the text, ‘Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you’. That’s what the text said, so did that mean it was you he was jerking off to?
“So the text…”
“Was about you. Yeah.” His shoulders rise a little before falling, like a weight had literally been lifted off his shoulders. His eyes are still closed, scared that if he opens them he’ll be met with a grin on your face before you laugh at him.
“Eddie,” You say softly, moving to sit up on your knees. He doesn’t open his eyes or move his head, “Eds. Look at me.”
You scooch forward, sitting next to him, your thigh touching his own. His eyes crack open at the touch, his gaze locked at the ceiling still.
You reach your hand up and cup his cheek, guiding his face to look at yours. His eyes are glossy, like he’s trying not to cry. You give him a soft smile, your own eyes begin to well up with tears. 
“I need you to listen to me, got it?” You wait for him to nod before continuing, “I love you Eddie. Both as a friend and more. I didn’t realize how much I loved you until you sent that photo, that wonderful, hot, sexy photo,” He tries to move his head away but you pull it back to you, “That photo that I ended up looking at as I made myself cum that night.” That caught his attention. He opened his mouth to say something but you were quick to stop him, resuming your speech.
“Eddie, why didn’t you just tell me you liked me? I wouldn't laugh at you or anything, if anything I’d probably realize I did too. I just don’t understand why you had to do that to tell me. Not that I didn’t love it, I did. Just, I need you to say it.”
He looks at you for a second more, making sure you’re done talking before speaking himself.
“Sweetheart,” His hand reaches up to hold your own, the one on his cheek, “If I’m being completely, 100% transparent with you. I didn’t think I was worth your time. You are way out of my league and the fact that you chose to stick by me all these years just made it even harder not to fall for you. But you,” He squeezes your hand, “You are the one I want to be with. Always have been, always will be. I don’t want anyone else. I love you so damn much baby.”
The new pet name made a smile creep onto your face, the tears finally breaking the barrier and spilling down your face. 
This man, your best friend, the one you didn’t know you loved as much as you truly did until a week ago, loves you back. You’re so happy that he loves you back that you can’t even stop yourself before you launch forward and pull him in for a kiss. It’s soft, your soft lips meeting his chapped ones, a perfect pairing.
You pull away after a few seconds, needing to breathe. Your foreheads are touching as you stare at each other, love and lust filling your eyes.
“Can I kiss you again?” You nod and Eddie leans in for another kiss. This one being harder than the other, more passion and lust thrown in. Eddie’s tongue brushes over your bottom lip, wishing for access that you give without a second thought.
You moan at the feeling of his tongue meeting yours, the taste of weed, beer and pizza still lingering. Eddie’s hand moves from its place over yours and to your waist, being met quickly with his other. He holds you tightly, afraid that if he didn’t you’d slip away from his grasp. You move your leg over his going to straddle his thighs. He helps you situate yourself on top of his lap, lips never once disconnecting.
The new position lets you feel just how hard he is under his sweats, the boner that you’ve only ever seen through a screen under only a few layers of clothing. You start to grind your hips on him, making him groan into your mouth at the friction. His hands move down to your hips, helping your movements, while yours tangle themselves in his hair, feeling just how soft it really is.
You grab a handful of it at the base of his neck, pulling lightly as you continue making out and grinding on him. On one particularly rough thrust, his sweats hit that perfect spot on your clit making you moan into his mouth and pull his hair hard. He lets out a deep groan at the feeling, which makes you smile into the kisses, now knowing a little secret about him.
“Shit baby,” Eddie breathlessly says as he pulls away from you, “Need to taste you. Please.”
The words go straight to your core, making the wet patch between your thighs grow.
“Are you sure? You don’t have to.”
“I want- I need to. Been dreaming of this forever,” He pulls further from your face, gauging your reaction, “Will you let me take care of you?”
You nod your head, “Words baby. I need words.”
“Yes, please Eddie.” The words come out more whiny than you’d wanted but you could care less at this point, all you can think about is him between your thighs.
Eddie flips the both of you over, laying you down so your head is on his pillows. He goes back to kissing you, leaving kisses all over. Your lips, your cheeks, your forehead, before roaming further down, to your neck, sucking little hickeys wherever he goes.
You just lay there relishing in the feeling of his mouth on you, your hands still in his hair. He glides down to your collarbone, sucking another hickey there. His hands are sliding all over your body, up your thighs, gripping your hips, towards your waist, pushing the shirt you have on up, exposing more skin to him.
“Can I take this off princess?” He looks at you, his big brown eyes almost black with lust.
Without responding you sit up quickly and yank the shirt off of your body, tossing it somewhere on his floor. You lay back down, now in only your underwear in front of him. There’s something about Eddie still being fully clothed while you were there basically naked in front of him that turned you on more.
“Jesus, princess. You’re so damn pretty,” He guides his hands towards your boobs, looking at you for permission, which you give, before palming them, “These perfect goddamn tits.” 
He leans down and starts sucking on one, kissing it softly at first before taking the nipple into his mouth, nipping it lightly. The other is being rolled between his fingers, pulling delicious moans and whimpers from you. He removes his mouth from one with a pop before giving the other the same treatment.
You try to buck your hips up into him, needing some type of friction, but his weight stops any possible movements. You can feel his bulge against your thigh and it’s driving you crazy not being able to see it, and have it inside you. Eddie bites a little harder causing you to scream out in pleasure/pain.
“That’s it baby. Let me hear you, I want every little moan and whimper,” He’s smiling at you as he goes back to trailing kisses down your body. He stops just at the waistline of your panties, slipping one finger through, pulling it back just to release and snap it against you.
You moan out, the slight sting feeling good. Your eyes followed him as he continued down, kissing your hips, and thighs. The teasing is driving you crazy but it feels so good at the same time, you love the feeling of Eddie’s lips on you. Eddie reaches your knee, planting a light kiss there before pulling away from you completely.
“You sure about this? We can stop now if you want,” His words seemingly far away in your ears.
You look at him and shake your head, his hair is disheveled from your fingers raking through it, his eyes blown wide at the sight of you, his sweats are tented containing the thing you want most right now. You sit up, crossing your legs beneath you as you reach for the hem of his shirt.
You tug at it until he gets the hint and pulls it over his head, tossing it down next to yours. Your eyes roam over his chest, eyeing the dark tattoos that contrast with his fair skin. You let your fingers wander over them, tracing the outlines and shapes etched into the skin forever. Eddie’s breathing quickens at the feeling of your fingers on him, he swears he could watch you do this all day but right now he needed to taste the girl of his dreams.
He grabs your wrists lightly, pulling them away from him much to both of your protest.
“Please, let me taste you. I wanna make you feel good,” He pleads with you for the second time that night. You stare at him above you before you look down at the ground; you’re scared now because you’ve never had someone go down on you, especially since you’ve only ever had one boyfriend who thought about himself more than you.
Your hesitation makes Eddie worried, he squats down in front of you to be in your eyeline.
“We don’t have to go any further. I’m okay with just going to bed now if that’s what you want.”
“No!” You quickly reply, “No I- I want this.”
“Are you sure? We don’t have to.” His eyes are soft, caring and full of truth.
You nod your head, “I want this Eds. I’ve just-” You sigh, “I’ve never had anyone…you know, go down on me.”
Eddie’s eyes widen at your words. He knows you dated someone a few years ago, assuming that the both of you did a lot together. But knowing this only fueled his need to please you more.
“Then let me be the first. I promise it’ll be amazing, for both of us,” He grabs a hold of your hands, “I want to make you feel amazing. Will you let me?”
You look at him, the lust in your eyes turning to pure unbridled love for the man in front of you. You nod your head, “Yes, I trust you.”
A smile breaks out on Eddie’s face as he goes back to his full height. “Lay back down for me sweet girl.” You follow his instructions, resuming your previous position on his bed. Legs wide and waiting for him.
He crawls over you, kissing his way towards your mouth. He plants one on you that has you moaning and bucking your hips into him again. He smiles into the kiss, pulling away and kneeling down so he’s eye level with your dripping cunt. His hands move like feathers over your skin reaching your underwear and slowly peeling them off of you.
His eyes never leave yours, making sure you’re comfortable as he pulls them off of you and throws them behind himself. Once he knows you’re safe and good he kisses up your thighs, towards your core.
You whine under him, he’s going too slow. You need his mouth on you and now. Eddie finally places the gentlest of kisses to your clit, pulling a squeal out of you before you buck your hips up in return. He smiles and goes in, licking and sucking the little bud until you’re a writhing mess under him.
Then he moves his tongue down, circling your hole a few times before slowly inserting it. He groans at the feeling of you pulsing around him, his hips rutting against the bed as he enjoys this just as much if not more than you.
The feeling of him inside of you, even if it is just his tongue is amazing and you can’t wait for more. Once Eddie thinks you are warmed up enough he glides his hand up to meet his mouth, replacing his tongue with one finger. The stretch it gives you is so new and pleasurable, once you get past the slight pain of it all.
“You’re doing so good, baby. Taking my finger so well, think you can take another one? Hmm?” Eddie looks back up at you wanting to see you fall apart for him. You nod frantically and mewl at his question, falling deep into the pleasure he’s giving you.
“Aw look at you, already so cock drunk and I’ve not even given it to you yet. You gonna be a good girl for me and take another finger so I can stretch you out for this cock?”
“Yes, please. Ed-” Once the word leaves your mouth another finger enters you, the pain shooting through you before being taken over by blinding pleasure.
Eddie pumps his fingers in and out of you at a slow pace, not wanting to hurt you, yet. But all you want is to cum, to feel yourself fall apart at his doing. The feeling of your core tightening signals both you and Eddie of what’s about to happen.
Eddie then attaches his lips to your clit again, sending you over the edge, cumming all over his fingers and face. He pumps his fingers until he feels you loosen around him then takes them out.
“God you taste so damn good sweetheart,” He crawls back on top of you, face to face before guiding his fingers that were inside of you to your mouth, “Taste yourself baby.”
You oblige and open your mouth, sucking his fingers clean of your juices. He groans at the sight, the way your eyes roll back and you moan around his fingers. He pulls them out because if he didn’t he was sure he’d cum just watching you like that.
Eddie goes to take off his sweats but you stop him, “I wanna make you feel good too Eds.”
Eddie’s eyes go wide, he’s thought of your pretty little lips around him so much and you offering it right now is like heaven but he knows that the moment your mouth touches him he won’t be able to hold back. “Sweets, you have no idea how much I want to watch that but right now I need to be inside of you. I’ve waited long enough, you can suck me off another time, promise.”
He kisses you then pulls his sweats down along with his underwear. His cock springs free, red and leaking precum just like the photo. You can’t stop yourself once you see it, you reach out and take it into your hands, stroking it slowly, softly, taking your time to relish in the feeling of your hand around him.
Eddie seems to be doing the same thing, moans and groans falling from his lips until his hand grips your wrist to stop your movements, “Gotta stop baby, or else I’ll bust right now.” He laughs a little before leaning down to give you a small peck on the lips.
He lifts himself up onto his hands and reaches for his bedside table, opening the top drawer and pulling out the small, aluminum square. He rips it open with his teeth before sliding the latex over his hard on, pumping it a few times before lining it up with your entrance.
He looks up at you, eyes locking, “You sure about this? We can still stop.” He’s so sweet and kind it makes your heart ache. You place your hand on his cheek, he leans into the touch.
“Please Eddie. I’ve never wanted anything more.” You give him a kiss, filled with love and lust and passion. With that he slowly pushes in, just the tip to get you used to the girth of him.
Your head falls back onto his pillows, one hand moving to grip his hair the other his back. He pushes in a little more, inch by inch until he is finally all the way in. The groan he releases when he feels you clench around him, getting used to his size, is like music to your ears. A song that you could listen to on repeat for hours on end.
“Need you- need you to move Ed, please.”
“Gimme a sec baby, wanna make this last.”
A few seconds later he pulls out only an inch or two before going back into the hilt. The feeling of him moving sends shivers down your spine, loving every moment of it. He gains more confidence and pulls out all the way to the tip before slamming back into you. The way your tits move from the force makes Eddie’s mind go blank.
Eddie’s pace is slow and rhythmic, just trying to let you adjust to him, but you need more.
“Faster Eddie. Faster.” It falls out of you as a moan, barely audible to yourself but he hears it and grants your wish picking up the pace. Your moans grow louder as his pace speeds, you start mumbling incoherent things.
“Good girl, take this cock like the little slut you are. Bet you love it when I call you my little slut huh?” You squeeze around him at his words, “Oh I felt that baby. You like it when I degrade you don’t you my little whore, hmm? Gonna always be the little cockslut that I know you are. Falling apart with me inside of you.” 
You’re not even trying to hold anything back at this point, the feelings being too good to try to stop, “God Eddie you feel so good. You’re so big, dammit!” He hits that sweet spot inside of you that has your eyes rolled back and mouth wide open but nothing coming out.
“Oh, is that the spot honey? That the spot that makes you feel good?” He moves against you to hit that spot over and over again. Your brain goes numb, not registering anything that’s happening around you, too shrouded in pleasure to care.
Eddie’s talking to you but you can’t hear what he’s saying. Next thing you know he’s circling your clit with his fingers again, pulling a particularly loud whine out of you.
“Ed, I’m gonna- Shit! Feel like I’m gonna pee, gotta stop.”
“Oh but sweetheart that’s what I want you to do, wanna see you cum and squirt all over this cock of yours. Come on cum for me baby girl. I know you got one more in you.”
His words ring in your ears, but they sound so far away. The feeling of his hand gripping your hip and the fingers on your clit and the dick inside of you all becoming too much and you just let go. There’s a gushing sound as Eddie pounds into you faster and harder, now chasing his own orgasm. It rips through him just as hard as yours did you, his white sperm spilling into the condom. A small part of you wishes it wasn’t there, to feel his seed inside of you, maybe even have it stay there until you get pregnant.
Eddie collapses on top of you, breath hot and heavy against your neck. He’s planting small kisses along your shoulder and collarbone, waiting out the wave of pleasure that just overtook the both of you. Sooner than you’d like he’s getting up and pulling out of you, making you whine at the loss of him.
He exits the room for a short amount of time, returning to you in the same position. He starts to wipe you clean with a warm towel, being careful of your sensitive clit before pulling your shirt and underwear back on you. He puts his own clothes on, neglecting his shirt this time around. He goes to the side of you, picking you up bridal style and carrying you into the living room to lay you down on the couch.
He returns to his room to change his sheets and lay a towel down to soak up what seeped through. Once his sheets are changed he goes back to get you and places you back in his bed, pulling the covers up over you. He gets you a glass of water for when you regain consciousness and some pain killers he knows you’ll probably need.
Eddie gets in beside you, pulling you close, rubbing your arm as you breathe softly into him. A few minutes pass before you start to open your eyes. He looks down at you, brushing some hair away from your face.
“Hey there you are. How’s my girl doin’?” That smile you love so much is spread across his face.
“Mm, tired. Sore. And very happy.”
“I got you some water and painkillers,” He reaches over and grabs them from his bedside table, “Take these and drink this.”
You sit up a little and do as he says, drinking all of the water in the cup before resuming your position curled up at Eddie’s side.
“So how was it?” A smirk on his face.
“Eh, it was okay I guess. I’ve had better.” Eddie scoffs and hits your arm lightly, which just makes you giggle.
“Damn guess I gotta kill you now. Can’t have you going around telling people I’m only okay in bed,” He retorts back.
You look up at him, “And who else do you think you’ll be sleeping with? Cause if it’s not only me then I’ll keep my promise of castrating you.”
“Oh so you want to do it again, even after it was just okay?” You slap him in the chest.
“I’d do it a million more times if it feels that good after every one,” You say before giving him a kiss, “Will you be my boyfriend?”
“Already am sweetheart,” You give a quizzical look, “Since the day I met you I was yours. Always will be.”
You smile at his words, planting another kiss on his lips, “And I’ll always be yours.”
Eddie Taglist: @ali-r3n @dixontardis @witchwolflea @micheledawn1975 @daydreaming-mood @idfwfeelings @adaydreamaway08 @preciousbumplingbee @rustboxstarr @plk-18 @teary-eyed-egg @needylilgal022 @exploding-bonbon @gagasbee @eddiemunsonsguitarpic @aol19 @thatwitchyoucouldntburn
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