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#i kind of wanted a different approach on this ^^
gojoath · 1 day
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ಣ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ LEARN TO PLAY NICE, OKKOTSU YŪTA
you know that your boyfriend yūta could be a little bit… difficult, but as much as you love him, you can’t let him get away with it all the time.
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summary. fem reader. yandere yūta. obsession. manipulation. stalking. yandere themes. aged up characters. fingering. teasing. you try to scold yūta. slight arguments. fem oral receiving. jealousy. toxic relationships. wc, 5.1k.
note. repost from my old series :)
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it’s badly timed, the way yuuta’s been called away for a mission tomorrow, just days after your last party together— since the incident during the game. he knows you’re being different, you’re being distant and he doesn’t want to leave you — but can he trust you? he doesn’t know what’s changed but something has.
when you got home that night you could barely look at him. it was like you were accusing him of something — like he’d done something wrong but he’s not done anything, it was noritoshi who was teasing him with your history, who was trying to rile him up — like he was trying to take you, take what’s his, you’re his girlfriend. nobody will ever come between you, is it so bad for him to make sure everyone knows that?
but now yuuta leaves tomorrow — albeit it’s only for a few days until his mission is over and he’ll make sure it ends quickly. he’ll work hard if it means he’ll get back to you sooner rather than later. he’d do anything if it meant it got him back by your side. you know that, don’t you? 
your apartment is quiet as your boyfriend opens the door, sliding off his shoes and pulling his katana from across his chest to rest it in the hallway. the space is mostly only illuminated by the natural light outside — it’s still only around 4pm but he still notices the dull lamp light that’s coming from the living room as he follows the inviting glow. he knows that’s where he’ll find you — he knows you best afterall. your routine, your preferences, your everything.
and he does, yuuta smiles as he pushes past the door in the living room to see you sitting on the couch. you look like you’ve been out already, you’re dressed in a shirt and a mini little skirt as you scroll through your phone. the image of you sitting there makes his cock twitch, like it’s pulling him towards you as his eyes flick across your figure, lingering slightly on the way the fabric of your clothes expose the plush of your thighs.
it does make something ache in him slightly — you never mentioned you were going out today, especially not with him. did you go out because you knew he’d be at work? because you’re trying to avoid him? you know he never liked you wearing clothes like that when he wasn’t there to protect you, to steer away any prying eyes that might think you’re ripe for the picking. not when you’re yuuta’s.
but he swallows it down as he approaches you, replacing the burn in his throat with that same kind-hearted smile he always wears.
“are you doing something today? i thought we could spend it together.” his voice is gentle when he speaks and his steps are careful, expecting you to move your feet from where they rest on the space in the sofa next to you so he can sit. but you don’t, you don’t even look at him as he stands there— a little awkwardly as his question rests in the air, shuffling from foot to foot before he’s biting on the inside of his cheek and choosing to rest in the seat opposite you, on the other side of the room instead.
yuuta doesn’t like how far away you feel right. in more ways than one. this isn’t you.
“no, i don’t have plans.” your answer makes your boyfriend fidget slightly, turning the promise ring in nervous circles on his finger as his haunting gaze cuts into you. but he still tries because maybe you don’t realise the way you’re making him feel, maybe you’re just a little emotional, are you on your period? he’s sure his tracker on his phone said you weren’t due for another week or so… did it come early?
“o-okay, um.. do you want to spend the day with me?” he swallows loudly as he asks and he’s not sure if he’s imagining it, if his disarrayed state of mind is just pretending he heard you sigh at the question but you answer anyway.
“well you’re here now.” cold, your answer is cold. it’s missing the usual warmth, the usual love that laces your words. you must be mad at him? is someone trying to steer you away from him?
“hah… right.” yuuta doesn’t realise he’s trembling until his hand raises to push his hair back, to grip at the roots and pull because this must just be a nightmare…. he hates this. why does it hurt so much, why does he feel like he’s losing you? he’ll just have to bring you back to him that’s it, to find out who it is who’s trying to take you away from him so he can kill them. yeah, that’s what he’ll do. it’ll be easy.. and then you’ll love him again, right?
the silence between you both settles heavily although you don’t look uncomfortable at all — you look like you don’t even care that he’s there, your boyfriend, your love. the space between you both in the middle of the room feels miles long despite the way he could cover it in only a few steps.
“i’ll miss you when i’m gone…” his voice scratches in his throat,
“it’s only for a few days, yuuta.” why are you saying it like that? anytime away from you is hell. you’re too pre-occupied with scrolling through your phone to even look at him, are you talking to someone else? is that who it is that’s coming between you both? who is it that has your attention if not him?
“i know but i always miss you when you’re not there.” yuuta’s stare is sharp as he holds you, haunting, chilling— he feels cold while he waits for your gaze to lift to touch his. why won’t you look at him? please look at him.
but again, you ignore him — you don’t say anything and he can feel the way it makes something tremble in his ribs, in his bones. he feels like his body is tearing away at the seams because you’re supposed to be in love — you said you’d marry him, that you’d be together forever.. has a curse gotten to you? should he have refused to leave you alone these past few days… maybe if he never left you alone again, you’d love him like you used to…
“it’s because i love you. aren’t you going to miss me?” yuuta’s voice is lower when he asks, he fidgets on his seat before he chooses to push himself to stand. he needs to be closer to you, he needs to feel the warmth of you beneath him, he can’t leave you like this. he needs you to remind him that you still love him. you can do that with your body, like all those times before — all the reassurance and confessions of pure love, where are they now?
your eyes finally rise from your phone with his movement but he’s not met with the usual warm, loving gaze you normally wear. it’s emptier now, it almost makes him flinch.
“yuuta. we need to talk.” yuuta knew this was coming, who have you been talking to about him because this isn’t of your own will, he knows it’s not. someone must be manipulating you, was it someone from the party? had noritoshi reached out to you after you left to try and rekindle old flames? but you’d never do that to yuuta, right? he hates fighting with you. he knows you can be emotional but you’re never like this. he misses you. the real you.
“o-okay.” your words urge your boyfriend to take his seat back at the opposite side of the room — as much as it pains him to feel so far still. he needs you in his arms before you speak to him, so he knows you’re not actually as far away as you feel right now.
but you put your phone aside as he watches you— as he waits, inspects the way you push yourself to sit straighter, like you’re at an interview or some important meeting. he doesn’t think you notice the way your skirt seems to bunch up even shorter, hugging around your hips — it’s hard for yuuta to focus on anything else when he can almost see the peek of your panties beneath the short fabric. he swallows, trying to quell the sudden burn of arousal in his lower abdomen… and the one between his thighs.
it feels like it’s been so long since you’ve let him have you. you must be teasing him.
“yuuta, it’s about the party…. and a bunch of other things i guess.” you squeeze at the space between your brows like you’ve got a headache.
“o-okay, what about it? is everything okay?” yuuta’s voice sounds quiet, like he’s about to be scolded — deliberately soft, like it’ll lessen his punishment. like it’ll manipulate you in his favour, to forget about this and go back to loving him like you’re supposed to.
“no, everything’s not okay.” you sigh and he fidgets on his seat slightly — you’re not looking at him again, but he steals another look at the place between your legs. he can still remember how soft you feel, how wet you can get beneath his touch. he shouldn’t be thinking about that right now but is he supposed to resist what’s his? especially when you’ve been holding out on him.
“it’s about everything that happened with noritoshi, we need to talk about it.”
“i don’t want to talk about him.” the low tone of yuuta’s voice catches you off guard — he picks up on the way your eyes jump to him quickly, widening at the way he’s staring at you. holding you there. like you’re a bunny wondering when the wolf is going to hunt, when it’s going to claim it’s prey. not yet…. but soon.
“but, yuuta— we have to talk about it, this is what i mean.” you lean forward but your thighs open slightly and your boyfriend feels a soft ringing in his ears that accompanies the throb in his cock with the new angle. it’s like you’re deliberately showing even more of your plush skin to him, your soft panties, he wonders if you’re already wet beneath the fabric. the image almost makes him whimper beneath his breath before you cut him off again.
“seriously, what is wrong with you?” your eyes narrow and yuuta’s barely looking at you now — he’s distracted, but that seems to only make you even more frustrated. “do you not think that there is anything wrong with how you handled it?”
“no, he was trying to take you from me. i did..” he swallows, his throat feels dry with want. he knows exactly the thing that would quench his thirst. “.. i did what i had to do.. to keep you.” he still answers your question despite the way his gaze is faltering, transfixed on the space between your thighs and his fingers twitch to squeeze into his own. it’s like it pains him to hold back, to not reach for you, to not have his hands palming at your figure.
“yuuta.” the first call of yuuta’s name is an exasperated sound, more of a sigh as you run your hands along your face. but then you notice… follow his line of sight until you realise what it is that’s holding his attention and you scoff.
“yuuta?” you’re louder now, almost snapping at his figure across the room, “are you fucking kidding me, right now?” that catches his attention — makes your boyfriend lidded, sleepy gaze snap back up to you before he’s flushing deep at the realisation that he’s been staring. the silence settles as you stare at him, noticing the almost pathetic bulge in his pants from a peek at your panties and you almost laugh, you’re too frustrated for it to hold any humour.
“fine. is this what you want?” your words cut through the silence in the room quickly and yuuta is hanging on your every word when it’s accompanied by the way you lean back to sink into the cushions behind you. your drool-worthy thighs spread with the movement, revealing the way the pretty fabric is hugging your folds tightly. there’s a damp spot in the light colour and it makes your boyfriends breathing catch because as annoyed as you are, you can’t deny the way having his attention still affects you.
“you’re such a fucking perv, yuu—“ your words are meantto sting as you pull back your feet to press them onto the edge of the couch, leaving yourself spread open for the dark-haired sorcerer at the other side of the room as he gives you a slow blink.
“h-hey. don’t say that, it’s not weird when it’s mine. you’remine.” but the sight of you— like this, spread open so invitingly— it’s like you’re urging yuuta to come forward, to take what’s his. it’s like a parting gift before his mission and he almost does as he pushes himself onto his knees. he’s ready to crawl, drag his body to you.
“i don’t want to fight anymore, i don’t want to leave you. so can i—“ his tone is wavering, trembling beneath the weight of his arousal and even the slight friction of his slacks along his hard cock makes his hips twitch.
but your answer makes him freeze before he can close the distance, your words feel like they cut him. it’s like they carve his heart out of his chest and you leave him there to bleed. “no. you can stay there and you can watch, until i say everything i have to say.”
yuuta’s staring at you, watching the way your hand suddenly appears to press down between your thighs— teasing along the clothed folds of your pussy as he rests on his knees across from you. “if this is what it’ll take to get through to you then i’ll do it.” you bite on your lower lip with the first swipe of your fingers between the petals of your cunt. he bets you feel warm.. wet, this isn’t fair. this is cruel.
“baby, please— don’t, let me..” the tone his voice takes next is deliberately defeated, like he’s just received bad news — like he’s grieving and it feels like he is as his cold gaze watches the movement of your fingers. “i need to touch you before i go.” your fingers pet languidly along the fabric of your panties — dancing along the quickly dampening fabric before they’re pressing down on your puffy clit through the thin layer and yuuta feels something ache in his chest at the sweet sound it pulls from you.
“t-then you’ll watch… and you’ll listen.” the way you play with yourself is hypnotising and he studies every movement you make, every sound you pull from yourself as you bear down eagerly on the sensitive parts of your cunt.
it’s like yuuta knows what you’re going to do next, where you’re going to touch, he’s memorised these spots afterall— he knows them best. he’s panting like a dog from where he’s resting on his knees, pressing his palm into the leaking bulge in his pants, trying to quell the throb— the ache, as his whole body quakes and he’s moments away from begging until you begin to speak again.
“do i have your attention now, yuu?” you ask and yuuta’s nodding before you can even finish the sentence, his eyes are almost wet — it’s like he’s refusing to blink, refusing to miss even a second of you pressing your fingers between your folds. it’s like his own private show and it’s all for him, he wishes he could reach out to touch you, to feel you, but is this really a punishment when you look so pretty? when you’re playing with yourself while looking at him. it’s still all for him.
“baby,” he starts again, words whispery and choked off when his palm squeezes even harder against his clothed cock but you ignore him.
the pretty fabric of your panties have taken a darker colour beneath your movements now — you’re even wetter, needier. yuuta’s flushed down to his chest the moment you hook your fingers beneath the cotton to pull it to the side — to reveal the messy, glistening image of your puffy folds for your boyfriend like you’re serving a starving man a meal and telling him not to eat. “the party, yuuta. why did you storm out?”
your fingers return to your pussy quickly but your question hangs in the air. your boyfriends jaw is slack as he watches you — his eyes dark and lidded. he can barely breathe nevermind speak as the first swipe of your digits along your slick pussy catches on your skin to glisten. “you c-couldve spoken to me. i’d have told you, i haven’t spokento noritoshi in years.. you didn’t even ask me. how are we supposed to fix things if you won’t talk to me?”
yuuta hates the way you say his name. why are you even thinking about him when your fingers are between your thighs? he hates the way you speak of him in that dreamy, whispery tone — he doesn’t want you to say it at all and it makes him hiss through his teeth with the next hard press of his palm against his twitching cock. he can barely hear you with the way the blood echoes in his ears. he feels lightheaded, like he might pass out.
“don’t you trust me?” your question jolts him slightly and despite his half-hormone drunken state he answers quickly, just as you sink one of your fingers into your twitching hole. the wet, tacky sound that sounds from your pussy makes yuuta’s whole body shake.
“y-yes. with all of me, baby. but.. it’s him, i was scared he was trying to take you away from me.” you don’t notice it, you’re too lost in bliss when you add another finger to see the way yuuta inches himself closer. he’s just trying to get a closer look, trying to see more of you. he wants to see the way every twist of your wrist sinks your fingers even deeper into your cunt — the way they glisten everytime they pull back and he moans. “you didn’t see.. how he was looking at you.”
his lips part with his next exhale and his cock feels uncomfortably hard in his slacks. you’re torturing him, he already feels so ridiculously close and you haven’t touched him at all — but you look so pretty like this. the way your chest is rising and falling, the thin sheen of sweat on your skin, the saccharine sight of your cunt. he’s close enough now for his hands to rest on either side of the couch at your sides as he breathes deep. “please, baby— let me..”
“but i don’t want him, yuuta.” your words cut off his attempt, his plea and the next look yuuta gives you is almost chilling. you can’t deny the way it makes your walls squeeze tight around your fingers, the way it makes your body yearn for him. he’d broken you that way and you’re hyperaware of the way your own fingers are no match for his, you can barely reach the spots your boyfriend taught you of in the first place.
“then who.. who do you want? tell me, baby. i need to hear you say it. it hurts.” his words almost growl as they’re spoken, he’s almost curling over you completely but he plays it safe — letting his hand rest softly on the inside of your thigh as he pushes you to spread wider.
“i want you, yuuta.“ you blame the pleasure for making you go a little easier on yuuta than you’d originally planned to. you’d planned to not let him touch you at all, but he’s looking at you like he’s starving— you’re almost scared to move incase he sinks his teeth into you instead.
“i listened, please.. please, l-let me touch you i— i need to touch you,” he’s pressing his hips into the edge of the couch but his knees still rest on the ground as he leans over you. he’s forcing you to meet his gaze, so intense you can’t look away — you need to listen to him, how are you supposed to say no when the dark blue in his eyes are almost telling you that’s not an option.
“yuuta,” you sink your fingers into your pussy again and the sweet little drawl your voice takes as it cracks is answer enough when yuuta leans even closer to you. his hands are cold when they pull back yours, making you whine with the loss of friction before you shudder at the sudden press of his fingers stretching against your walls.
you try to close your thighs around his wrist, even just as a way to try and keep your composure, but his free hand presses down on you to keep you spread. he moves you so easily, with such confidence, it makes you feel even hotter.
your lips part to cry at the way yuuta pushes into you, the weight of his body knocking your thighs to spread even wider as he leans up to press sweet kisses against your cheeks. they’re used as a means to soothe you as he scissors his fingers inside of your plush walls. he’s not even ashamed by the way his hips instinctively hump into the side of the sofa now that he’s finally got his hands on you again. now that you’ve given him exactly what he wants, like you always do.
your legs kick out, shake at the way his fingers work you so quickly — brushing against the spongy spots inside of you that you can’t reach, the ones that make your back arch into him as he feeds you another finger. you take it so greedily with how wet you are, walls stretching around the give of his hands and your boyfriend groans with the next thrust of his clothed cock against the plush fabric beneath you, lost in how needy your pussy is for him. he knew you were just feeling emotional, he hadn’t actually done anything wrong for you to be mad at him afterall.
your hips shake and your lips part to cry out yuuta’s name as you grab at the expanse of his broad shoulders — humping into his hand as he pushes his fingers in and out of you.
“shhhh, i know. i’ll help you, okay? i’ll take care of you because i know you need me, you know how good i can make you feel.” yuuta’s words are breathed against your cheek and he begins to swirl gentle circles into your clit with his thumb while his fingers drag more of your slick out. he’s making a sloppy mess between your thighs and he can’t help but feel a little smug about it. about how quickly your walls seem to crumble for him, your love for him is so obvious in your need.
“see, baby. how good it feels?” he works your body with practiced precision, watching your hips twist under his touch when he pushes his fingers deeper, feeling your walls tighten around the digits as he speeds up his ministrations, pulling a surprised whine from your lips.
the reaction yuuta’s able to illicit from you so easily is nothing to do with how he’s studied you for the last few months — watched you play with your pussy so many times he can barely count. he’s even watched back the pretty videos he’s taken on his phone, maybe he’ll tell you about the next ones he takes so you can look at him as he does — make that pretty face for the camera.. quite like the expression you’re wearing for him now.
“mhm,” you moan, albeit a short reply to your boyfriends needy babbles but he barely hears you. he’s began his own pace now, humping his hips mindlessly into the side of the couch beneath you like he’s an untrained pet. but he doesn’t care enough to be embarrassed about it, not when you’re pulling him closer — walls squeezing around him so tight it makes his cock throb against the tight fabric of his slacks.
“it’s because it’s me… it’s because it’s love. pure, mutual love.” yuuta’s hips tremble and the couch knocks loudly against the wall behind you with his next thrust, gritting his teeth and you whimper, already feeling yourself edging towards your release.
“yuu— i’m so close.” your hips grinding eagerly into his touch, brushing your clit harder against his thumb as your warm cunt pulses around his digits, sucking him back in everytime he drags them out. you blink up at him, starry-eyed and already fucked out as your fingers tighten around the fabric stretched over his chest, pulling him closer as your chest heaves.
“i wish you c-could see how pretty you look, just for me. all m-mine. this is why i cant let anyone else have you… it’s not my fault.” yuuta groans and his dark blue gaze is blown and narrowed, heavy when he leans over you to kiss up the column of your neck in the way that has your thighs spreading wider.
the way you’re trembling only spurs him on, scissoring his fingers inside you and hammering them against the sweet spot that has your thighs twitching before he smashes his mouth against yours. he’s being greedy, it’s like he’s proving a point — drinking up your moans like he’s reminding you he’s the only one that’ll ever hear them —pushing his own name between your lips as his hips jolt and grind against the side of the sofa as he chases his own pathetic pleasure. he’s too focused on your own to even care.
“i don’t like when you’re mad at me. i was j-just protecting you.. he was going to take you from me. do you forgive me? d-do you still love me? i need to hear you say it.. please.” yuuta’s voice is desperate as he works you, but he knows you’ll give into him when you’re so close to release. that’s why he’s waited until he has you here, until you’re clawing and panting for him— walls squeezing so tight around his fingers he can barely move. until your mind is so thick with soft pleasure that you’d do anything he’d ask you for your release.. that’s how well he knows you. how well he’s trained you.
“y-yes, yuuta.. just don’t stop— ah!” its sudden, the way you feel your thighs shake and the blissful feeling of your orgasm rushes through your veins. your walls flex and pulse around his thick digits as he continues to sink them into you, drawing gentle circles into your clit to prolong your pleasure, while he swallows your needy moans and babbles of his name with his own. it’s your orgasm that sets him off, that has him curling over you — hips stuttering into the side of the couch as he creams and soaks the fabric of his slacks, and he’d be embarrassed if you weren’t still wrapped around him.
you’re still grabbing at yuuta’s shoulders, keeping him close — you must be scared he’s going to leave you, you must not want him to leave for that mission… was this all an act so that you could have him like this? that must be it. you were just pretending.. he should’ve never questioned your love for him. he’s done everything rightafterall.
his fingers are slick as he pulls them back from you— he’s fucked out and flushed and despite the uncomfortable dampness in his pants, he stays in his place over you as he hugs you closer. “can we not fight anymore?” his voice has returned to his usual gentle tone, it’s like that twisted little switch in his head has flicked and he’s your sweet, kind boyfriend again— gazing up at you, massaging and drawing hearts into your skin.
you let your lidded gaze linger on yuuta’s momentarily before you look away again, something buzzes uncomfortably beneath your skin where he touches you.
“we can go again, i-is that okay? i haven’t had enough yet, baby. i need more.” you didn’t think it was possible but yuuta pulls you even closer— until youre flush against him, sweating hard beneath your clothes but you’re suddenly aware of how cold his hands still feel against you. why has it taken you so long to realise? have you always felt this way? you almost feel guilty for feeling like this when you’re supposed to…. when you do love him.
but there’s still so much left to say— you’re not sure you’re as satisfied with yuuta’s answer as your body feels. the conversation as a whole didnt go as planned at all, why is why you find something in your bones screaming at you to pull away. no, it’s not enough, it’s not what you wanted. but do you really think trying to talk to him again will bring you a better outcome? how many times have you tried already? is there really no getting through to him?
“i’ll miss you. will you miss me?” he asks but he thinks he already knows the answer as he leans in closer to smear his lips along your cheek— he can tell you’re deep in thought and he wonders if you’re thinking about him. he’s sure you’ll be sad to see him go for his mission but he thinks you’re cute when you’re upset about it. he’ll make sure you know he’s always thinking about you, he’ll call you morning and night — you’ll have your location on for him afterall… so will he really be as apart from you as you think?
“yes, yuuta.” your words don’t carry much emotion but yuuta’s sure it’s only because you don’t want to get upset. you’re trying to be strong for him because you know it’ll make leaving you harder if you weren’t. not that leaving you was ever easy, maybe he’ll have to take you with him on the next one.
his arms circle around your waist to squeeze as he nuzzles himself into you — basking in your warmth as he coats you in some more wet kisses, tracing them along your skin until you’re shuddering beneath him. “i’ll text you everyday. so you remember i’m always with you, forever.” another kiss and you’re still beneath him so he continues, maybe his words will soothe you.. make you a little happier. “but i’ll come back to you, i promise.. because i love you, okay?”
you don’t offer him much, only a sigh… but yuuta knows you’ll be waiting for him…. you love him, thats what you said afterall.
“yeah…. i’m sure that’s what it is, yuuta.”
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© gojoath. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
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ourhouseishaunted · 3 days
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people acting as if laios can Do No Wrong and infantilizing him because he is autistic are annoying as hell. especially because laios belongs to my favorite genre of character: "person who desperately wants friends and deep relationships because they're lonely, and while part of their problems stem from people not wanting to understand them and refusing to meet them where they are, they also genuinely come across in a way where you Completely Understand why others can get turned off from them"
#.txt#dungeon meshi#laios#like. okay. i think its a very autistic experience to Want People In Your Life So Badly but because you act differently and have a hard time#with social cues you dont get that easy friendship and it sucks and youre lonely as hell#<- source: im autistic#but ALSO. i think some people forget that missing social cues genuinely makes you rude. even if you dont mean it#intent goes a long way but sometimes the autistic experience is realizing that Unfortunately You May Have Been A Dick#or that being intense or overbearing or disregarding boundries you dont know are there Drives People Away#like idk i think wanting people to look deeper and see whats worthwhile about you while also realizing youve unintentionally#driven people away#and that you can be misunderstood AND need to improve how you treat people#is an interesting story (growing as a person while also understanding that you were worthwhile the whole time even if others didnt see it)#on TOP of being a. idk more true to life autism expereince at least for me#and characters who have these kinds of arcs are really fascinating to me and i think theres a lot of nuance to them#and idk it sucks when people try to act as if lack of malicious intent suddenly means everyone who doesnt love you unconditionally is wrong#to be clear sometimes its not the Neurodivergentisms that drive ppl away sometimes its smth else#but idk i find more nuanced approaches to characters like this feel much more engaging to me and its lame when it seems like ppl go out#of their way to remove nuance from characters :/
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argumentl · 2 days
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Fan-translation
Phy.25 Kaoru Interview (April 2024)
(Interview by Hasegawa Yukinobu)
ーAlong with the new single 'The Devil In Me', you have also recorded self-covers of your songs 'Cage' and 'Yokan'. Had you already decided to do this at the time you were making your previous release '19990120'?
Yes, we had. The idea behind the last release was originally in part due to our 25th anniversary, but we also thought it would be a good chance to reconnent with those people who had been fans of Dir en grey in the old days, but who had since drifted away. But we couldn't just re-release the old songs and then be like, 'Ok, thats it'.
ーYou have to get those returned fans to listen to your new music too, right?
So, we made 19990120 and planned to release a new song straight after, but as for what to include for the coupling tracks on the new song, we decided self-covers of Cage and Yokan would be good.
ーYou re-recorded the 3 songs from your debut release for 19990120, but following this, you went for your 4th and 5th singles. By the way, I personally found it very emotional that the band chose to re-record Yokan.
Did you?
ーI think you know this, but I've loved Yokan since way back....You know that, right?
Uh, no. I didn't know that (lol)
ーDo you remember that whiteboard there used to be backstage at Studio Coast, you would use it to decide the setlist? There were magnets with song names taped onto them, and you would use them for deciding that day's setlist. I once even tried making some magnets for Yokan and Akuro no oka, and sticking them on the whiteboard myself. Thats how much I love those songs (lol)
Oh, yeah, I remember that. (lol)
ーAnyway, regardless of that, looking back at these songs from the time of your debut, I really felt the Dir en grey of 1998. How did you approach your next moves in terms of sound back then?
Back then? Well, for the first three songs, they needed to have a big impact. Then following this, the singles Cage and Yokan had the restraint of being tied to a major label. We had to figure out how to make melodious but also interesting songs.
ーMaking songs with a major label?
Thats how it always goes, right? And record companies want follow up singles to have just as much punch as the debut single. So thats the kind of situation we were in making Cage and Yokan. But within ourselves we were also making them with the album in mind.
ーNot as stand alone singles?
This was our first full album as a band, so I wanted to include a lot of songs. With 5 singles included they had to be songs that would fit well with the other songs on the album. I remember having this in mind while making Cage and Yokan.
ーA lot of visual kei came out in the second half of the 90s, but in 1999, with your first album Gauze, I really got the sense that the members didn't want to fit into that typical band mold.
At the time, we were just so driven we didn't mind being seen as unorthodox. To put it in an extreme way, it was kinda like, 'As long as we make an impact, who cares about the music!'.
ーDynamite Tommy's band 'Color' had a similar outlook. They would say in interviews, 'We are an unorthodox band!'. Maybe you were influenced by him? (lol)
No, I don't think that has anything to do with it (lol). But at the time, there were not a lot of bands with flashy visuals. I mean, there were in the following generations, but in our generation visual kei was mostly bands wearing fancy suits. With us, there was a part of us that just wanted to be different, I think thats reflected in the songs too. Whether it was the single, or the label, whatever...we just wanted to do something out of the ordinary (lol). Also, we knew that our producer at the time Yoshiki, would make it sound good for us in the end.
ー Were you aiming to get to the top by being out of the ordinary?
No, not really. I wasn't thinking about the songs selling to such an extent while I was making them. Of course, I still thought this band would sell records, but part of me also thought 'How weird for this kind of band to be big'. So instead of aiming for the top, I just aimed to make interesting work. But of course, being with a major label at the time, we would have requests come in regarding the lyrics and the music. And the more I hear this kind of thing, the more I just want to go in the complete opposite direction. These were the circumstances in which we created Gauze. So at the time, I thought to myself 'After this I'm never gonna make another album like Gauze'. (lol)
ーYou wanted to be more free to make it in your own way?
Well, actually its like this every time, but whatever I make, even if I put my all into it, I always look back with some regret wishing I had done parts of it slightly differently. So after Gauze, I did think that I always want to surpass my previous work each time. Nowadays, its less about surpassing, but more about finding something different to try.
ーTo surpass=to deny your former selves, so the band underwent some changes, didn't it? I think the turning point came in about 2005 when the band began overseas activities.
Yeah, we went overseas and I think thats when we realised the importance of just being ourselves. Foreign bands stand on stage unashamed of who they are and what they do. There is a purity to it. So for us to chase our goals, I realised it wasn't just about surpassing ourselves, but also being more defiantly ourselves.
ーWere you not as self-confident before that?
Before that there was a lot that we simply didn't understand. From making music, to playing lives, finding ourselves was like fumbling through fog, grasping at things bit by bit. Eventually I realised this was our way of trying to reach our goals. So even just standing on stage, I would still feel a bit unsteady in myself. But going over there and playing lives, I felt more grounded. I realised its ok to just stand there, even completely stripped bare, and just to be yourself.
ー That realisation, yeah.
It was the right time to realise it. Maybe thats why we discovered how to show what was truly within us at that time. Our heavy sound wasn't just a result of lowering the tuning or using a heavy amp.
ーYeah.
I can't really explain it well, but its not about searching for something that is missing, the important thing is using what you have inside you. Whatever comes out from inside the 5 of us is good enough. For example, if you look at Shinya drumming, he doesn't seem like he has a heavy sound in him, but its HIS sound, so its ok. I don't want to change or manipulate it, the band sounds the way it does because of that. Rather than wanting something more, we should be a band that uses each member's sound just as it is.
ーIts great to acknowledge each member like that.
That's all we can do.
ーThats how a band should be, but bands are also groups of people with strong egos. There are also times when too much self assertion leads to failure.
Well, we have had times like that, in the 25 plus years we have been together. But I feel like we are where we are now because of that. You could say that we are similar now to how we were at the time of our debut....because we didn't know how to make music then, but we were just being ourselves. So its kind of interesting for us to re-do these old songs now.
ーWhen you look at these songs which you made 25 years ago, did you feel like they were interesting songs?
I feel like I tried hard to make something interesting. I just had an idea of what I wanted. But the gap between that and the reality was huge, so I constantly felt bad about it. I was remembering this during the recording.
ーDid you feel nostalgia for your young self?
Well, I still worry about things like I did then. I still get stumped when something feels a bit off when writing songs, but now I prioritise discovering what I have in me.
ー 'What you have in you'.....could it be...'The Devil In Me'!? (lol)
Hahaha
ーAs for the new single, what kind of image did you have for it?
Well, I discussed it with the members, but even before that, I had a vision of what would be good for our next move. But if it turned out exactly as I had envisioned, it would be less fun. So the members' opinions are really important.
ーIts a song unlike any you've done before. Its less about developmets or structure, but it really establishes each member's presence. Does this song represent the band's style going forward?
Yeah, its a different style than we've previously had, but I think its ok to keep it simple. Its a chemical reaction between the members. That's what the band depends on. Its not about who does what, its what do these 5 members each make you feel. Even a song which I'm not playing in is ok, if you feel that I am.
ーThats impossible (lol)
No, its not (lol)
ー But I feel like this is the territory you have arrived in after 25 years.
I think thats the type of thing that will make the band more interesting. How can I say it, we don't even have to make it weird, it just has to sound like us. We have over 100 songs now, right? Before we would try to cram stuff into a song to make it sound like us, but now we don't have to intentionally do that. In other words, its something thats easy to convey. Something that you can feel the presence of the 5 of us when you hear it. This will feel different depening on each listener, but thats how we are doing it now. And its the same for our new song too.
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weebsinstash · 24 hours
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People keep asking me if I have any 'yandere Alastor vs. yandere Lucifer fighting over Reader' ideas, and I gotta say one of my favorite ones is uh
Ok so I just am trying to kick myself in the ass to write this in of itself, but, I really like the idea of Alastor just straight up tricking you into giving him your soul. "Oh what if Reader takes a deal from him" no what if he makes a deal for your soul and you don't even fucking realize what you're doing and it's completely unintentional. I'm talking, my specific idea, is that after a prolonged series of events where you both gain and then lose Alastor's respect, he then approaches you when you're just like DRUNK DRUNK and, you're being all social and slurring and honestly he's embarrassed for you but at least you're talking to him, and, he sets his trap: making it seem like just an innocent little game, Alastor suggests you two have some kind of drinking game, and the winner can take ANY ONE THING from the other, and he's even all "oh, you don't even have to bother yourself with thinking about it! I could simply JUST TAKE IT and not even inform you, so then you wouldn't even have to worry yourself about whatever it is I decided to... acquire for myself :)"
And here's your drunken delusionally confident ass, thinking YOU'RE gonna pull one over on HIM, YOU trick ALASTOR "oh haha there's definitely nothing I have he wants lol, what would he do, take my cellphone or some of my shitty clothes or collectibles, lmao, I'm gonna win and I'm gonna ask him for some sort of special power or cool thing or gossip, this is low stakes high reward for sure"
Cue you like IMMEDIATELY losing his challenge, and even then, you're all smiles and laughs, "aww, I thought I had you there! So what are you taking?" And he just "Ohhhh, nothing :) actually I... even already took it from you!" And he starts LAUGHING laughing and you're just like "oh, you bastard, you got me! >u< more drinks, yay!"
I like the idea that Reader wakes up the next morning STILL in compete ignorance but uh, eventually you find out exactly how terrifying having someone else own your soul is when Alastor gives you some sort of command of something you REALLY do not want to do and you can't even control your own body to stop yourself from doing it anyways. Just the... violations of privacy, the loss of autonomy. He can force every thought and secret out of your mouth, your head, and move your body to the best of its abilities, and also just, PLUCK you to his location at will
So. Lucifer finds you just absolutely BROKEN in bed, like emotionally devastated, you are as close to suicidal as you can be for someone who cannot die, and, maybe you've even self-harmed. And after some gentle prodding from the Devil, you reveal what Alastor did, but, even more than that, how it made you FEEL. Alastor had approached you as some kind of friend, then started to want to exert some kind of ... control over you, commenting on your lifestyle choices, wanting you to do things with him in HIS way, and then when you resisted, he acted like you were a disappointment, even stopped spending time with you, and THEN, after you thought he was done with you, TRICKS YOU into giving him YOUR SOUL. It's just completely destroyed your psyche. It's reinforced horrible things you've thought about yourself your entire life. It made you feel alone, and now, you don't even have your soul anymore
So naturally Lucifer is like, "That's horrible! I'm so sorry he hurt you like that, I won't let him do this!" AND JUST FUCKING UNDOES IT. Contract WHAT? Radio Demon WHO? this is HELL and Lucifer is, you know, THE DEVIL FROM UH, THE BIBLE, and he's just snapping his fingers and you FEEL your soul come back to you and now you're breaking down crying for entirely different reasons while Lucifer holds you
MEANWHILE ALASTOR, who is fucking off elsewhere, may or may not be lovingly gazing at whatever form your soul is taking within his grasp, HAS IT RIPPED AWAY FROM HIM AND STARTS LOSING HIS MIND. Some "Wait, what just happened? Ffffuck." shit for real, he's, abruptly jerking out of his chair so hard it's sliding across the floor and he's racing back to the Hotel. Charlie stands up for him and shouts down her father that he has no right to ask the Radio Demon to leave, but, Charlie "attempts" to give Alastor "a stern talking to" about how "friends don't take other friend's souls, taking other people's souls is not how we get into Heaven" which, of course, falls on deaf ears, but Charlie isn't the Morningstar Alastor is wanting to concern himself with
And of course, there's Lucifer, making sure he's standing close to you, maybe even between you and Alastor, standing in front of you protectively, MAYBE EVEN HOLDING YOUR HAND TO COMFORT YOU. Alastor just immediately putting two and two together what happened and all but grinding his teeth into dust. Not only has Lucifer interfered and taken something IRREPLACEABLE from him(which was something he took from YOU lol), but, Lucifer has driven a wedge between you ans the Radio Demon. Alastor is watching you regard him with nothing but anger and sadness and fear while clinging to the tiny fallen angel and just, ohhhh, if looks could kill, the staredown these two are having with each other over you...
You've got one yandere who had your soul within his hands and had it taken back before he even got to enjoy having it, didn't get to DO anything with it, and another yandere who, quite understandably, feels that it isn't safe to let you leave from under his protective wing, and BOTH of them are convinced you have to be protected from the other while ALSO being super powerful
You know, the perfect combination of dangerous abilities and dangerous minds :) obviously our favorite Appletini is the more powerful one, but I think our Bambi could give him a good run for his money through sheer trickery alone. If you thought it was annoying getting pulled into antagonistic musicals BEFORE--
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coffe-and-tea-time · 2 days
Note
KEEP PRETENDING TO SLEEP! KEEP PRETENDING TO SLEEP!!!
HEHEHEHEHEHE I WAS WAITING TO COOK THIS
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Coffee insanely speaking! Thanks Dear, you gimme the perfect excuse to write a second part just in time although I expected the option of talking to him to come first. Not that I'm complaining lol
Post where this suggestion came from
↪︎ ☾ I love to see you ....................................... .......................................☆ I love to hear you↩︎
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TW: yandere behavior, delusions, murder of self-preservation, stalking, obssesion, somewhat willing reader, kinda denying of bad decisions
Of course, the best option is to stay still, not because you are enjoying this no no, of course not...
Despite his soft voice that sounds rather familiar, you can't really recall who or where. So the safest option is just giving in at the moment, you didn't know how he could react so the safer the better, isn't it?
A smile starts creeping on your face against your will, seems like you are a rather bad actor when it's required, huh? 
“Oh, I'm really glad, you seem like you're finally having a good dream… will it be too greedy if I want to be inside that little dream of yours? Well, if you find that greedy, you won't be able to handle me later”
Hearing a close mouthed giggle following the whisper makes your heart flutter softly, like this is some kind of really romantic scene in his mind. You were able to hear the faint sound of footsteps, he seems like he's doing a little room tour, making it a little hard to hear him.
“Oh Dear, you were researching that thing again?”
It seems like he found his way into your phone, what was he referring to?
“Why do you keep reading so much about romance? Are these words good enough to keep your focus?... Maybe I have to start practicing oral expression? It's been a while since I felt like that, last time was when you downloaded that stupid dating sim… This is truly irritating, the names they use, the way they ‘communicate’ to you; do no justice, I can express myself way better, my love, and how my eyes change when I see you walking by… just... please, I need only one chance, and I promise you won't have a room left for doubts”
Even though he made the effort to lower his voice in order to 'not wake you up', it's clear how his tone is changing with every word depending on the topic; First, a low hint of infatuation, then, what sounds closer to a plead and, finally,...was that...hopelessness?
Honestly, in a normal situation, you would be annoyed by someone searching through your phone but only an idiot would think this man would judge you even if you had pictures of dead people there, more like he's genuinely looking for more of you, despite the fact that it's really not the ‘proper’ way, you can't say it didn't work.
“My beloved Cherry, what can i do for you to talk to me? Those characters seem to steal your attention quickly… I would be lying if I sad I'm not a little hopeful because of them though, you seem to have quite the specific taste, Cherry, and I believe I fit perfectly on them... if only I could find the right moment to get into your routine, to be part of your life…”
Weird that he worries about getting to talk to you with an ideal scene but not worrying about stalking you, but maybe it's kind of understable? Since well, everyone likes to check on their crush on social media even if they take a while to actually talk, even if this guy took it a little too far, he sounds... harmless like his wish is just to win your affection…
wait a second…
Are you truly relaxed in this kind of situation? What is going on with you? Why? Why… well, can't say you didn't ask for this, even as a joke, you know this time is different because it's real, but… why does reality feel like a fantasy right now? Is it because of him?
“Huh, I come here as a routine by now, I still get the same queries, I’m dying to find the answers soon..”
Sensing that lightly sweet fragrance once more makes you know he’s approaching your ‘sleeping’ form once again, making it easy to hear him despite his constant whispering.
“Would you let me cuddle you? Would you let me kiss you? Would you mind if I were clingy? Would you mind if I get jealous? Would you mind if it seems like I already know more about you than I should? I want to hold you my dear, I can’t wait for the day I can just snuggle with you every time we want… I really can’t wait anymore, I need to be closer to you… I guess I have no option other than to talk to you out of the blue, I dislike to be so imprudent, but I promise I will make up for it once you accept me in your life, Love”
You feel a gentle hand slightly caress your cheek as a little peck is placed on your forehead, making you almost smile like a fool if it weren’t for the fact that pretending to sleep is your priority in this sweet moment, unexpected but called for moment.
“Sweet dreams Cherry, I have to prepare what I should say tomorrow, I will put all of my efforts to be my best self to make a good first impression, I hope I snatch enough of your interest to be on your mind even for a moment”
Oh, he is definitely gonna be stuck in your mind for a while, as you try your best to focus on the sounds, you catch his steps as he seems to walk away… but you keep up with your act just in case.
So, tomorrow, huh? Seems like once again you have important decisions in your hand, should you indulge in your fantasy and let him get near you? It also sounds fun to go to him first… But, maybe you should try to avoid him? It’s the safer choice, but do you really want that? He seems safe enough not to raise any of your flags, he seemed so caring for you…
sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣
images from pinterest
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strawberrystepmom · 19 hours
Text
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pairing: Suguru Geto x F!Reader
word count: 9.7k
contents: Canon compliant up to the events of JJK0, cult leader!Suguru, naive reader, slight age difference between reader and Geto (5 years), reader can see curses/has cursed energy but it is kept intentionally vague
cw: dark content | emotional manipulation, dubious consent, voyeurism, oral sex (m!receiving), spit, violence, descriptions of anxiety, mentions of religion and religious imagery, mind fuck-y
notes: so this is a remaster/full repost of unkindness that was on my old blog! i only got up to like the third segment in that post so i figured why not do it all at once. thank you for reading if you do and i hope that you enjoy my little story! ♡ | crossposted to ao3
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When you were eight years old, sitting in your mother’s lap as she combed through your wet hair, you remember telling her about a recurring dream you had been having for weeks. You were nervous to tell her, your little hands balled into fists as they rested against your nightgown clad thighs. 
“A raven,” you recount to her as she nods and gently uses the bristles of the comb to detangle a knot. “Bigger than any bird I’ve ever seen is in this dream every night, flying around over my head.” Your mother sighs and reassuringly pats your head. You hear the spritz of a spray bottle from behind you, a synthetic green apple scent filling your nostrils. 
Telling her filled your stomach with anxiety, an issue you didn’t know you had at the time. You figured the world was just scary back then. You wish you could go back and tell yourself how right you were. About how scary the world is, anyway. To tell yourself about how everything will eventually end up likely wouldn’t change the outcome but at least you could say a few things.
“The raven comes to the ground eventually. He doesn’t fly over your head forever, instead he glides by your side.”
“The visions you’ve seen are real, you aren’t crazy.”
The most unbelievable thing of all?
“You end up in love and you end up losing yourself along the way.”
Back then though, you only had your mom and her words to illuminate the darkness you felt lurked around every corner.
“Have you ever heard of omens?”
Shaking your head, you turn to look at your mom who is tapping the edge of the comb against the heel of her hand. She’s chewing the inside of her cheek and you can tell she’s deciding what to say next to comfort you. Your mom has never been good at this kind of thing, a woman who never envisioned she would have a child with so much angst and fear. 
“Sometimes we receive signs that something is going to happen in our lives even if we don’t understand them,” she starts. You hear her mouth open, as if she wants to add something additional, but you hear it snap shut as if she thought better of it. You nod once, signaling your understanding and she gets back to work at the stubborn tangle at the base of your skull without another word shared between the two of you.
You hate that this is the most vivid memory from your childhood.
You hate that you still have the dream.
You wake with a gasp, looking around and blinking as warm morning light filters through the window. Feeling around the bed, you wonder if Suguru is already up and moving for the day as your hands touch the duvet where he should be. It’s cold, as if nobody was there in the first place. Knowing that may have been the case anyway, you sigh and rub your hands over your face. 
“Suguru?”
His name leaves your lips in a tentative manner and you look around the room to make sure he isn’t looking at the early morning sun or standing there watching you sleep. No matter how much of your life you spend with him, you’ll never get used to the feeling of those black diamond eyes following you everywhere you go. But finally, you are seen. 
Four years spent with him and no one sees you like he does.
You were 18 years old, a few months from graduating high school, when Suguru approached you. The sight of a stranger raised your hackles, scared of the world at large at that point in your life, and you were concerned trouble was coming for you. All of the omens in your dreams would finally come true at the hands of this beautiful man, rising to his full height which is nearly towering over you. His hair was shorter then than it is now, just past his shoulders and tied in a neat half bun off of his face.
He looked like less of a god now than he did then but you knew it. The omnipresent feeling of him sticks in your bones. It’s the confidence that makes you stand with your back straight, that guides you through the worst of the days where he’s nowhere to be found. 
Unable to find him, you shuffle back to the futon and lay down amongst blankets that smell like him. You’ve never been able to place the scent but you know it’s his. Wrapping yourself in the duvet, you let your mind wander back to all of those years ago.
“I know this seems sudden but I wanted to ask you about your gift.”
Mention of your gift, not that you’d ever call it that, makes you freeze. He notices your expression, wide eyed and haunted, and he fights the urge to smile at you. Just as he and everyone else suspected, you have no idea what you’re capable of. It would be a failing worthy of death to let Gojo find you first. Suguru couldn’t risk the bird dog finding his canary and dropping her off, bloodied and broken, on the doorstep of the Sorcerer community. 
He wouldn’t allow it.
“M..my gift?” You repeat with uncertainty and he nods, bun bobbing against the back of his head as he does so. The situation is withering, a handsome stranger asking you about a secret you’ve kept hidden for your whole life while the sun beats down and makes you sweat. You wonder if you’re about to be killed.  
“You are an exceptional young woman, do you know that?”
The background noise of the world fades out, the sound of the spring birds chirping disappearing as you blink once, twice, and you notice those dark eyes fixated on you. You blanch and avert your eyes. Were you even allowed to look at him? Dressed in such nice clothing with such a regal demeanor? Shaking your head, you play off the awkwardness with a humorless chuckle.
“You must be looking for someone else, sir.” Bowing your head as a sign of respect, you turn to walk away. “I’m sorry for wasting your time.”
Before you can turn on your heel to walk away, you feel a large palm rest on your shoulder. You take note of the weight of it, the feel against your bones, and you wonder why this is happening to you? You are so afraid but you can’t run, you don’t have the guts for it. What do you do now?
Nothing. You do nothing, just as you’ve done your entire life. You let this strange man grab you, hold you, speak to you. Humiliation rises like bile in your throat and you turn to face him, astounded again by his beauty. The sunlight catches his dark eyelashes, warmth emanating from him. How can you walk away? You won’t walk away.
“I don’t want this to be more strange than it already is,” he starts, voice deep and dreamy. You could get lost in the baritone and the way it wraps around you but you choose instead to focus on his words to try and understand what he wants from you. “But I know you have something nobody else has. Abilities.”
He’s correct but you wonder how he could possibly know about your struggles. You have kept them to yourself for years even to the detriment of your own well being. Your mother and father both assume you’re deranged and there are times where you’ve wholeheartedly agreed with them since you began seeing the things that haunt you at every turn when you were 5. 
“How do you know about that?”
The man shakes his head and holds his free hand ahead of him. “Why don’t you walk with me and we can talk some more?”
How can you say no with his hand on your shoulder? Turning on your heel to face him, you keep quiet and wait for further instructions. Your naturally submissive tendencies are serving you well in this situation and Geto doesn't hide his smug smile. You are perfect and he knew it.
As the two of you begin to pick up pace walking side by side, you anxiously keep your eyes glued to the ground. Being able to visualize each of your steps is keeping you calm and if you look down, there's less of a chance you'll see whatever is out there to scare you.
"Look at me."
He doesn't ask, he commands, and you listen. For the first time, you notice something perching on his shoulder. It's formless for the most part and less terrifying than what you usually see attached to others as they pass by you but you're intrigued nonetheless.
"Do you know about that....thing?" Pointing to his shoulder, he nods at you and you breathe a sigh of relief. "You see them also?"
A chuckle is his response and you ponder what it means while you wait for him to clear up your confusion. "I don't just see them, I control them."
The figure disappears quickly and you gasp, searching around your own feet and your shoulders to make sure he didn't order it in your direction to harm you.
"How?"
Despite your trepidation, Suguru can see the way that your eyes sparkle at the thought of someone being like you. He knows how it felt for him, too.
"I can show you and so can my friends." He watches your nose scrunch in confusion at his words and he laughs, amused. The sound is musical and uplifting and you feel yourself lightening up for the first time maybe in your entire life. Knowing you aren't alone has shifted your perspective more than you realized it would.
"There are more of you?"
"A couple dozen, yeah."
Nodding, you think for a moment. What if he can actually help you? What if these people are actually like you? What if you can find a place that suits you for the first time in 18 whole years?
"How can you help me?" 
The man turns to you, knowing smirk in place across his mouth. “I can show you better than I can tell you.”
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You hate her.
Never in your life has such a bitter feeling gathered in the pit of your stomach. Your face flames every time Manami walks by, you can feel it and you know she can see it. Tonight, you are more glad than ever to be on kitchen duty even if it means having to listen to her cackle from the other side of the wall.
“Geto-sama!”
She sing-songs across the tatami with a giggle as Suguru traipses by en-route to have dinner with the group, seating himself at the head of the table as everyone else files in around it. You fight the urge to roll your eyes from where you’re standing next to Mimiko and Nanako, pouring hojicha into tea cups. 
“Geto-sama,” you mock under your breath and Nanako giggles, dishing rice into bowls at your side. The two of you giggle together, a secret shared, as she begins to bring the dishes to the table for service. Sorting your tea cups, you count how many more servings you need as you look around the doorframe to see who is waiting.
Your relationship with Geto’s most trusted inner circle has expanded greatly since you first arrived months ago. 
They knew better than to be outwardly distrustful of you. Aside from the twins, every one of them had set out to find Suguru and his group on their own. He found you. He brought you. He touted your abilities long before you arrived.
“She’s the perfect blank slate,” he gushed over dinner one night as the other members of the group listened enraptured. “We got to her just in time, too. My source says that Gojo was planning on paying her a visit.”
Your arrival was underwhelming. Greeted at the end of the footpath that leads to the front door by Miguel, Larue, Mimiko, and Nanako while Manami glowered from the porch with folded arms, you weren’t immediately made to feel welcome by anyone except for Suguru who continued to guide you along the property with your arm looped in his. She was scoping you out, taking an assessment. She believed you to be no threat. She believed wrong.
Tinkering with the last cup on the counter, you take one look into the dining room again and the realization that your usual spot is full makes you chuckle humorlessly. Not that you’re surprised, Manami has done all but piss all over Geto to mark her territory but the sight makes a bitter, sour feeling turn in your guts just the same. Your nose scrunches as if you’ve smelled something bad and you don’t immediately hear when someone else enters the kitchen to pick up the tea cups you are still filling.
“About ready?” 
The voice you recognize as belonging to Mimiko calms you and you respond with a nod, wrapping your hand around the warmest cup as you take a breath and plaster a smile on. This one goes to the man himself and you feel eyes upon you as you offer it to him with a bow. His hand lingers on top of yours for a moment and you’re glad your face is pointed toward the ground, your flustered look hidden as long as you don’t make eye contact.
“We’re just waiting on you,” he chides lightly, always a stickler for timeliness. You lift your head to his view enough to offer an apologetic half smile. He pats the side of your face with his tea-warmed hand and your smile grows. Your eyes meet his rich, umber colored pair and you feel at peace. “Manami will be out of your spot by the time you get back.”
A small “oooooooh” breaks out around the table but the tension is quickly killed with a sharp look from Suguru. Everyone quietly begins shuffling their utensils and you don’t stick around to watch Manami’s rejection, scurrying back to the kitchen to gather your own rice and tea. 
“I want to share a few moments after dinner, if you’d all like to stick around.”
Suguru’s words inspire nods and happy, affirmative hums and you catch the tail end of them as you settle next to him at the table. Your opposition glares icily from the other end of the table, the same look she kept plastered on her face the day you arrived, and you meet her eyes long enough to offer a sweet smile before bowing your head in thanks for the meal you were about to share.
“I’d especially like for you to stay,” he looks across the table at Manami who nods once before turning back to her plate. Her lips are pursed and her eyebrows are knit together in irritation but smugness glimmers in her eyes. “You too,” he says and you turn your head to see him glancing down at you. Fondness crinkles the corners of his eyes slightly and you shrink into yourself with a nod and a shy smile. “Of course.”
The rest of dinner goes as you’ve come to expect. The twins giggle and joke with every other member of the group and you all sit beneath the watchful eyes of your leader who sips at his own tea with a barely visible over the edge of his cup smirk but you can see it from where you sit. You can see the corners of his mouth upturned just enough it makes your heart flutter in your chest. 
He looks down at you and thinks about how vulnerable you look. How little you hide, your emotions and yourself alike. Were you like this before he met you or is this his influence? He takes credit. He knows the way you flash fake nice shit eating grins in Manami’s direction is for his sake. His sweet little bird isn’t afraid to fight and he hoped that would be the case.
“Since we’re all here, I wanted to discuss a few things,” Geto clears his throat and sets his cup on the table in front of him. He basks as he feels every eye in the room turn toward him but none make him feel more intoxicated than yours. When he casts you a glance, you smile shyly. He wonders if you’ll do that forever, look at him as if he’s a savior on a big white horse. He hopes so.
“I want to make some changes in what we’ll all be doing around here,” his voice rings proud and clearly and you fight the urge to prop your head up with your hand girlishly to get a better look at him. A few people shift in their seated positions but you don’t glance around to find out who, gaze fixed upon the person you want to witness the most. 
“Manami, your duties are changing.” Replacing the sound of shifting clothing is small gasping and murmuring. Manami has been Geto’s assistant for close to two years, a coveted spot amongst anyone in the group. “You will still be my personal assistant but only for off compound events and daytime hours.”
Grateful for your own refusal to look at the rest of the table, you can tune out the uncomfortable chatting. “I know this may be surprising but we have many things ahead of us we need to prepare for,” he starts and the noise quiets. “Manami is one of the brightest among us and she will excel no matter what she’s doing.”
Hearing him praise someone else makes your back stiffen, the urge to pick at the seam of your t-shirt making your fingers twist in the fabric idly. You’re grateful your grip is beneath the table, hidden from view. No one will suspect how you feel as long as you’re careful but you gasp as you feel two large, soft hands untangle your fingers from your shirt and squeeze them between their palms. Looking up you’re greeted by the handsome, vulpine smile of Geto and you feel another gentle squeeze of your hands. 
You take a deep breath and ground yourself, focusing on his words as he opens his mouth.
“You will be my new on-premises and evenings assistant.” Despite your shock and the look on your face that shows it clear as day, you nod. “I would love to,” you clarify and he squeezes your hands once more as he rises and drops your clammy fingers back into your lap. 
Standing at his full height, Geto smiles as he looks over the faces of everyone sitting around him. Even Manami is working to hide her pout, looking toward the ground but keeping a smile plastered on her face. You sit with your legs tucked beneath you, a shred of hope illuminating parts of you that you once saw as dark and empty. 
You get to spend most of your day with Geto, most of your evenings too. Perhaps in that time he will finally have the opportunity to tell you about your gift. In 6 months you’ve learned as much as you knew the day you arrived but that may be soon to change. Giddiness makes you smile slightly, your face beaming as you keep it looking up. 
Suguru extends his hand in your direction and your smile grows wider. Gingerly placing your palm in his, he helps you rise as he places his hands on either side of your face. You strain your neck glancing up at him, you’re only chest level or so to his massive form and you can feel him using his grip on your cheeks to lower your head. Once you’re gazing at the floor his lips graze your forehead and you gasp, fire erupting through your limbs. 
“I’m going to teach you so much,” he coos as he uses his grip to turn your face back toward him. His eyes drink in the sight of you - the tip of your nose, the shape of your lips, and he smirks so quickly you swear you only imagined it. His thumbs graze your cheeks before he drops his grip and looks over your head at everyone else. That tall, dark shadow rests directly over you, though.
“You’re all dismissed, thank you for a lovely evening.”
Everyone stands and you stay facing Geto until all of the footsteps have filed out, waiting for his permission to leave next. You flinch slightly when his hands grip your face again, a natural reflex to the surprise of his touch, and he gazes at you silently for so long you stop keeping time. It could have been seconds, it could have been days - you will never know but you will accept it nevertheless. 
“Come see me tomorrow morning,” he whispers and you nod. You can see his eyes flit from your eyes to your mouth and you wonder what he’s thinking. He dips his head slightly and you can feel his lips brush gently against yours, a kiss almost too small to be qualified as one. You shiver, his thumbs digging into the plump flesh of your cheeks. 
“Yes sir.”
“Say that again,” he mutters against your lips. The vibrations of his words are directly on your skin and the heat that erupted in your limbs before has become a full blown fire, your face hot and your palms sticking together. “Yes sir.” 
He presses another kiss to your forehead and releases his grip, straightening his back out as he walks toward the door and offers you a bow of his head. “Get some rest.”
You make certain he’s gone before you touch your fingers to your lips, your eyes fluttering shut as you commit the feel of his soft mouth on yours to memory. You won’t be sleeping tonight.
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“Geto-sama?”
The sound of your meek voice alerts Suguru to your presence and he looks up from his usual place by the open sliding door between his room and the porch attached to it, a light breeze blowing his hair off of his shoulder. He looks ethereal and resembles a hero from a book you obsessively read as a child. Rescuing a sweet young woman from a life marred by sadness, the hero hauls her off to a place where she can be happy.
The irony isn’t lost on you.
“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” you start, clasping your hands together in front of you and he rises to standing, elegance exuding from him even in the most mundane of situations. He approaches you and gently rubs the back of your head and you fight the urge to lean into the touch. No amount of him feels like enough.
“You didn’t interrupt anything,” he responds with a serene smile, one you’ve noticed is just for you. He doesn’t smile at anyone else like that, not even Manami, and smugness rises in you for a split second before he speaks again. “What can I do for you?”
Clearing your throat, you look toward the ground and keep your hands linked. Geto recognizes the posture, something you do frequently when you want to speak, and he waits with his own hands joined inside of the sleeves of his yukata robes. He loves how naturally you submit to him, how you won’t even meet his eyes.
“Why am I here?”
If he’s surprised by your question, he doesn’t show it, but he does take a few strides to your side to place a comforting arm around your shoulder. Against your better judgment, you lean against him. Sides pressed together, you’re surprised when you feel the most minuscule squeeze of reassurance. Your heart threatens to burst as he leads you to where he was sitting and invites you to sit across from him, the two of you looking out at the sun setting on the horizon. 
“Before I answer,” he adjusts his sitting position and turns to face you. The golden hour warmth hits his face and you swear, not for the first time, you are glancing at a deity. Something, someone, greater than yourself. You shouldn’t be this close to him and you start to spiral but his voice brings you out of your own mind and into reality, your gaze shifting from the ground to him. “Will you tell me why you’re asking?”
Twisting your fingers together and sitting your hands in your lap, you sigh. 
You’re uncertain of how much time has passed since you left your old life behind to join him and while you do finally feel at peace with yourself, the natural pull you feel toward the man who brought you here in the first place hasn’t dissipated in the way you expected it to. It feels like an unfulfilled hunger, a need more than a simple want at this point, but how can you begin to tell him that?
“I’m afraid that if I tell you, you’ll see me differently.”
Your words finally get a rise from Suguru and he quirks one of his dark brows. The crack in his cool headed exterior makes you giddy - is that because of you? You’re dumbfounded when his posture changes and he scoots closer to you, your knees nearly touching his. Should you pick yours up and press them against your chest? To quell your own anxiety, you decide to follow his lead. You will only move if he does.
“Nothing you say will change my opinion of you.” He reaches out and touches your knuckles with the tips of his fingers and you feel heat rise through every inch of your body. The touch makes you feel emotional and you break the intense eye contact between the two of you to stare at the ground, hoping it will hide the tears that are threatening to spill down your lash line. “I brought you here.”
Nodding, you lift your still joined fists together and wipe your eyes and down your cheek with the back of one of your hands. Although you are still looking down, you can see Geto moving from your periphery and you wonder what he’s going to do next. 
Concerned your display is upsetting him, you sit still and try to regulate your breathing to keep from sobbing but errant tears still flow. You feel Suguru’s finger before you realize what’s happening and you flinch slightly beneath his touch as he wipes the wet tracks off of your skin. He wipes his finger along the fabric of your yukata robe before wrapping both of your fists in one of his much larger hands.
“Please be honest with me.”
Thinking back to what prompted this need for confirmation of what you mean to him, you dig your nails into your palm until you’re certain marks will be left. Manami, someone who spends almost as much time around Geto as you do, comes into your mind and you gnaw on your lower lip as you think about the jealousy churning in your gut. Why does she get to be there to help him make decisions? Why does she get to watch while he’s in meetings? Why did you see her leaving his room last week, hours before dawn?
Knowing it should be you is the emboldening thought you need to open your mouth.
“Do I mean anything to you?”
Feeling him squeeze your fists, the palm of his hand warm and comforting, you release the breath you’ve been holding. For better or worse, you’re about to find out and although your mind is racing, willing yourself to be calm comes easy in his presence. As if you needed further confirmation of everything he has done for you at a moment when you’re demanding something you feel unreasonable for wanting.
“You mean everything to me, you’re our future.”
His confirmation makes you weep. Tears flow freely, dripping down your cheeks and they hit the knuckle of Suguru’s thumb. You should feel guilty, you think, for putting him in a position to have to answer to you but cannot bring yourself to do it. You shouldn’t have had to wait more than a year to know but forgiveness is easy when it comes to him. If anyone should be sorry it’s you for questioning him in the first place and so you begin to ask for forgiveness.
“I’m so sorry for asking, Geto-sama.”
You feel him pulling you into his lap, his strong hands wrapping around your hips and the blood rushes into your face. Perching with uncertainty, your bottom rests against his thigh and it feels natural. All of the yearning couldn’t have prepared you for this feeling and you sigh as he brings one of his large hands to cup the back of your neck, his voice so close to your ear it makes goosebumps erupt across your skin.
“Call me Suguru from now on,” he whispers, a secret for your ears only. You feel his lips press against the space where your jaw and neck meet, another secret for the two of you to keep. Everyone on the compound would view you differently if they knew this was happening but you don’t care. You can’t care, not when he’s running his palms up your waist and unfastening your robe.
The opened door with a view of the outside doesn’t concern you as Suguru’s deft fingers work at the knot keeping you decent, the same breeze that rustles his hair that has always reminded you of feathers blowing across your bare chest as the robe is worked down around your waist. Your nipple stiffens and Geto reaches to pinch it between his thumb and index finger, making you yelp.
“How long have you wanted this, my little bird?” He wonders aloud and you almost feel as if he isn’t speaking to you at all, he merely wants you to listen and to witness. “Since you met me?”
He knows the truth just as he knows the way you’re looking at him. Eyes lidded, cheeks puffed out, lips wet with your own spit. You’re never going to leave his side.
“Tell me the truth,” he pinches your nipple once more and you arch your back, lip jutting out at the roughness of the feeling. Nobody has ever touched you like this before and the feeling is electric. Despite the fuzziness in your brain, the heady arousal clouding your every thought, you wet your lips with your tongue and speak. 
“So long, Suguru.”
He smirks knowingly and lowers his head to suck your breast into his mouth, his warm tongue lapping at your skin. It’s nothing short of heaven, you think. This is how it always should have been. His hands travel from the dip of your waist to your hips, pulling the fabric of your robe further down to expose more of you to his hungry eyes. You reach out toward his face, your fingers tentatively brushing against his lower lip and he releases your nipple from his mouth.
“Can I touch you too?”
Another whisper, another secret. A predatory gleam shines in Suguru’s eyes and you wiggle against his lap, keeping your fingertips pressed against his mouth. He puckers and kisses them gently, reaching to grab your wrist. He places your hand against the bulge beneath his robes, covering your delicate fingers with his own.
“You can,” he uses his grip on your hand to press the heel against his hard cock and he hisses through his teeth. You admire the way his throat looks when his head is tipped back in pleasure, his Adam's apple bobbing. How is everything he does so effortlessly beautiful, you wonder. Your attention is recaptured by his voice. “But first, how long?”
Your wide eyed, parted lip expression only serves as further fuel for the blood pumping between his legs. You look so innocent, the same as you did when he felt the first of your defenses crumble, the day he approached you to come with him. It strikes him as funny that both times, your vulnerability is because he has put his hands on you. Nervously, you shift in his lap and he presses you closer to his body to keep you from going any further. 
“Since the first day,” you admit, to him and yourself for the first time. He smirks, molding your hand around his bulge and you squeeze. Another hiss from him is all you want, the noise motivating you to offer yourself further. Using your free hand, you slip out of your robe the rest of the way and for the first time, you're bare to his eyes.
"Look at you." Your face heats and you feel your posture collapse in on itself, shoulders slumping after being so seen. "Show me how well you listen."
His command drips with condescension but you’re too awed to notice. When you nod, he gently nudges you off of his lap and you tuck your legs beneath you. Watching as he rises, you stay seated and admire the way those same lithe fingers that were just caressing your overheated skin work at the knot in his own robes.
Those dark eyes glance down at where you kneel on the ground and he gently smooths his hand over the top of your head and slides it into place along your cheek to cup your face. Using his grip to force you to look at him, you do and appear dazed. Transfixed, perhaps, would be better. 
“I’ve always known,” Geto unfastens the knot in his robe fully and you gasp at the sight of his nude form backlit by dusk right outside the door. He’s tall and broad and you can’t look away. “That you would realize.”
Pumping his hand along his impressive length, you bite your tongue to keep from eagerly interrupting him. You want to touch him so badly, you have to sit on your hands like a child to keep from approaching sooner than you should. Before you can think any further about his words, he walks a few steps and the sticky head of his cock nearly brushes your soft, swollen mouth. 
“I knew it was you from the moment we met.” 
He hangs his head just low enough that you feel the words are truly meant just for you and you shiver. As you wait for further instruction, he squeezes your cheek and jaw in the palm of his hand. Your eyes don’t leave him once.
Suguru has always prided himself on his ability to break people down - to their core, their most base selves in every sense of the word. Usually there’s a moment where he can see in their eyes that they have been broken, cloudy and glossy. Yours have looked like that since he met you.
“This is what devotion gets you.” His words make you shiver as he uses his free hand to point the head of his cock at your lips, rubbing the sticky tip along your pouty mouth. Sitting still as stone and waiting for his directions, he gently pulls your face toward his pelvis and his tip pops into your mouth. A long, low moan leaves him and you squirm at the sound. “Just relax for me, okay?”
Suguru releases his grip on your cheek and moves to palm the back of your head, fingers finding an easy and natural grasp on your skull. You take a deep breath and look up at him with watery eyes and he chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re perfect,” he breathes toward the ceiling and you tense slightly as he uses his grip to move more of his cock between your lips. “Stay relaxed, baby. It’s okay.”
Your head bobs slightly and he groans again and you wonder what it will take to get him to make that noise again, the deep guttural moan sending shockwaves to your clit. You want to rut against something, to feel the pressure release in your stomach and between your legs, but Geto is your first priority. 
Experimentally, you dip your face toward the dark hair at the base of his thick cock and you gag a bit as more of his length slips down your throat. The grip on the back of your head tightens and he gasps. Lifting your eyes in his direction for just a moment, you whine at the sight of him with his head thrown back in pleasure. Open mouthed, eyes shut tightly, every muscle in his neck bulging - you love it. If you were a more artistic person, you’d find a way to capture this forever but for now you commit the vision to memory and allow him to thrust his hips so that the remaining length of him dips fully between your lips. The tip of your nose brushes his pubic hair and you moan and gag around his length, tears slipping out of the corners of your eyes. Using the thumb of his free hand, Suguru brushes your tears away and it makes you sob and gag. 
“Oh, don’t give up on me now,” he comforts from above, brows furrowed as his hips jerk and your nose continually bumps against his pelvis. Finding a rhythm, he listens to the noises coming from between your lips with every stroke and he feels himself getting closer. His balls tense and his cock twitches and he isn’t willing to prolong the wait any longer than it has already been.
“Open up, keep your tongue out, just like that,” he instructs as he releases his cock from between your lips with a sticky and wet pop, jerking his hand along his spit covered shaft right above your lips and chin and nose. “Stay just like ahhh-,” his words are cut short with a pleasured shout as he shoots translucent ropes of cum across your spit soaked face. A splash lands across your tongue and you note the salty taste - something you’ll associate with just Suguru for as long as you live. 
Wrist pumping until he feels fully emptied, he takes a deep breath and covers himself halfway. His lean torso is visible and you feel your cunt throb at the sight and part of you wonders if he’s going to do the same for you - if he’ll kneel between your legs and worship your pussy like he hasn’t had a meal in days.
“Miguel, Manami, you can come in now.”
The deep voice filling your ears makes you scramble to cover yourself with your arms, your breasts and back bare to the open sliding door. The pair make their entrance and you keep your face pointed toward the ground, tears spilling hot down your cheeks. Suguru pats the back of your head as he walks back toward the tatami and sits, patting the spot next to him for you.
“Had some other business to take care of, please forgive my rudeness.”
You stay frozen in place but you can feel the eyes of your compatriots on your sticky face, remnants of Geto clinging to your cheeks.
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Days spent on the compound are simultaneously mind-numbingly boring and some of the busiest you’ve ever had.
Each morning, you rise with the sun and watch her from the window that is on the wall opposite where you lie. Most of the time you are on your side, arms wrapped around yourself, in your bed or Suguru’s depending on the events of the evening prior. He most often has you visit him in his quarters and you appreciate the near luxurious gift of privacy on those evenings. It’s far less private in your own room, thin walls separating yourself and whoever is in the room next to yours, although everyone seems to know exactly what Geto uses you for and has since your arrival.
He honors you by allowing you to love him, you remind yourself while the dark thoughts swirling in you churn. They’ll be chased away by the sun and by his presence when he returns to his room where you lay. His side of the futon is empty, already made up as if he were never there, so you allow your mind to wander. If he’s feeling generous, maybe today he will have lunch with you or even better, he’ll finally allow you to begin training your cursed energy into something more than a never-ending sinking feeling in your guts.
He promised you a very long time ago he would help you learn about your own abilities. It seems ungrateful to still long for usefulness considering you know exactly what your role is, yet you can’t help but wish to find this key to understand yourself that seems to always be out of reach.
Tracking the time fell away from you long ago, not long after the first time you were intimate with the man you so dutifully serve. Autumn gave way to winter which faded into a difficult to remember spring followed by the once again balmy days of summer. Again and again and again. Cicadas ring out across the secluded surroundings of the compound morning to night. You blink as they instruct you to rise, singing a tune even more rehearsed than the mechanical beeps of the alarms you used to set on your phone. How long has it been since you’ve had a phone? 
Does it matter?
Months or years may have passed but you find that you don’t care all that much. Time passes the same without being able to watch it, a voice that sounds a lot like Geto’s reminds you in the back of your head. You are here forever as part of your purpose to serve his goals and time is just a construct.
When’s the last time you felt like yourself?
Last night, when his satisfaction was the only thing you had to be concerned about, you chide yourself silently. You sound ungrateful to your own ears even if you don’t speak, these endlessly appearing questions becoming more aggravating with each second that passes, and you are annoyed and angry when you rise from Suguru’s bed, re-knotting the tie of your yukata. The shoji is open and he stands just outside of it wearing a cotton robe of his own, sunlight silhouetting him. 
He’s a God, you remind yourself, though it doesn’t kill the bitter taste in your mouth the way it usually does. Shuffling toward the door, you take a deep breath and call out his name from inside, his face turning toward you. This makes the bitter taste turn into something sweet you wish to taste again, a soft smile replacing your uncertain frown. 
“Good morning,” he calls toward you, sweeping his hand out in front of you to indicate where he’d like you to be. You dutifully follow the wordless instructions and arrive at his side with a smile, squinting in the early morning light.
“Good morning, Suguru. How did you sleep?” Smiling down at you, he gently takes your hand. “As well as I always do when you’re in my bed.”
The compliment and his touch make you feel girlish, heat rising in your face. To be a God’s beloved concubine is an honor, one you rarely take for granted even in your weakest moments. He has given you purpose, motivation, and an understanding you would not have found in a world with people who are unlike you.
Yet that same pit in your stomach lingers. He can tell, narrowing his eyes when he glances at you again though you avert your gaze.
“What’s on your mind?”
A tight smile slips across your face, measured and careful; similar to the one you always give Manami when she’s swearing her devotion to him at dinner or after the congregation. You want to tell him the truth, to open up and make him understand your need to be useful, but the words stick inside of you.
“Nothing, I just didn’t sleep very well.”
It isn’t exactly a lie but he knows that it isn’t the entire truth and his blood runs cold wondering what you’re hiding. You are usually so placid around him, glassy eyes and subdued smiles with averted eyes, but he can feel the anxiety flaring from your body. Are you unhappy? Is the spell he has held over you weakening? Does he need to scare you into reminding you of where your place is, the way he has with so many others?
Tutting gently, he wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you to his side.
“Speak freely, I value everything you have to say.”
Lulled into a false sense of security, you look at him out of the corner of your eye.
“May I train with you today?”
Suguru laughs, lifting his hand and gently brushing his thumb against your chin. He’s always touching you when it’s just the two of you, hands rubbing your forearms or fingers pressed against your face. He’s a sculptor and what are you if not simply the clay he’s molding beneath his touch, smoothing out edges and reshaping you from the bottom up into something you aren’t sure you recognize anymore which is how he has always intended things to be. His perfect blank slate, he said so many years ago. There isn’t a time where you haven’t proven it to be true even if you need a reminder. 
“Why?”
The tone of his voice makes you feel foolish for asking and your sidelong glance turns to the ground beneath you. Subservience is a practice and one you tend to be good at, evidence provided in the form of your refusal to make eye contact even when he begins speaking again.
“I’ll protect you from anything that could hurt you. You know that, right?” He furrows his brow, one of his hands wrapped around your forearm while the other remains on your chin. “You are safe here. Nothing here can or would hurt you, not while you’re in my care. Isn’t that enough for you? You demand training so you can, what? Fight?” Chuckling and finishing with a haughty sigh, he shakes his head. “You don’t have a fight in you, little girl. You never have.”
Defenses faltering, you laugh to yourself and up at him, sensitive eyes once again squinting when faced with the grace of the higher being in front of you. Of course he’s keeping you from having to enter battles you aren’t equipped for, isn’t that what he has been doing this entire time? Protecting you from those shadows that have lurked over your shoulder and kept you from sleeping since you were a child, comforting you, blessing you. 
Your rudderlessness isn’t Suguru’s fault, it’s simply your own for assuming you know more than he does.
Nobody knows you like he does. They never will.
“Please forgive me, Geto-sama.”
You call him Suguru in pleasure and Geto-sama in exaltation, raising it to the heavens that put him on the earth. Moving to fall to your knees before him in apology for making him believe his protection isn’t enough, he stops you with a firm hand on your shoulder. His thumb digs into your collarbone, somewhere between painfully and pleasurably, and you remain standing on wobbly feet with a dumbfounded expression. 
“I already have. For everything.”
There is so much you’ve done since you’ve arrived, so much to be forgiven for. Questioning him, doubting your place with him, doubting others, speaking with a jealous tongue and thinking poisonous thoughts. You accept his grace with a smile, tears rimming your eyes. You have always been told that forgiveness grants freedom, the wind at your back and the sun on your face. You feel it on this day, gazing up at a man who has saved you time and time again despite your own folly. 
Nodding and sniffling, you shut your eyes to stop yourself from open mouthed sobbing in thanks. You don’t deserve this and never have.
“I’m going to tell you something I’ve told nobody else, okay?” 
The assertion that he still trusts you despite your disrespect makes you emotional again, eyes opening and tears falling while you nod. 
“I love you.”
I love your devotion to me, he means, though you’ll never read between the lines to consider that the truth is that you are just a pawn to a man you’ve dedicated your existence to pleasing. Your body, your words, even the way you enter a room have all been carefully trained to suit him. You’ve been broken by his hands and he is always in a hurry to remake you, fashioning you into something once again useful.
“That’s why you’re here, little bird. To be safe and loved, not to fight or grow jealous or be angry with me. Are you angry with me?” You shake your head quickly, leaning into his touch with furrowed brows. He drops his hand from your chin and wraps his arm around your waist. “Never, Suguru.”
“Then don’t ask about training again, understood? Trust me to take care of you.”
And trust you do, nodding and finally letting that open mouth sob escape. He does a bit more tutting and his large hands paw at your body, yanking at the knot keeping your robe closed, roughly cupping your breast when the fabric falls open. Tears drip down your cheeks and onto the back of his hand, just how he likes it, and his tongue pokes out from between his teeth as he glances down at you.
“Do you trust me?”
This isn’t even close to the first time that he has asked but he needs to know just how many pieces he has smashed you into. He flexes his hand, squeezing your breast, further punctuating the point he’s trying to make - every little bit of you is his to have, to control, to make, to break, to feel.
“More than anything, Suguru, I swear.” Your legs ache to once again fold and bring you to your knees, the way you best know how to prove your regret, but you remain standing, lower lip quivering. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”
Your apology is a mantra you repeat as his hand dips lower beneath your robe, grazing the soft skin of your stomach and hip. Roughly wrapping a hand around said hip, he pulls you against his body, cold glance locked on your puffy, wet eyes. Despite himself, he smirks down at you, head tilted to the side. His hair is a black curtain that falls over both of you, soft strands resting against your bare torso and arm. 
“Do you love me?”
You do not have to think about your answer though it shakes when it leaves your mouth, your lungs begging you to gulp down enough air to replace what you’ve let escape through sobs. 
“I love you so much.” You shake your head and sob again. “Please, please believe me”
You feel like a half-formed thing, ready to be made over however he sees fit. 
“I believe you, no need to cry,” he assures you, grip on your hip tightening. You breathe through your open mouth and he takes the opportunity to bring his thumb to your face once again, pulling your jaw down and widening your mouth. You know what’s coming next, heat stirring from deep within you despite your sorrow, before he even commands it.
Your tongue lolls out of your mouth and he spits down onto the muscle.You roll it back into your mouth in an instant, grateful for the opportunity to have even the tiniest piece of him in you, his eyes following your throat as you swallow. Communion, consumption of him to purify yourself from the inside out. The ultimate apology until he can use your cunt to fulfill himself later, although he wants to take you now, right here, inviting everyone out to see the work of a master craftsman.
Sobs gradually give way to less powerful sniffles, you squint up at him with your skin exposed and his touch and his hair and his scent and wonder what you were even wishing would happen in the first place. That he’d train you to do what, exactly? This is what you were meant to do.
“Do you feel better?”
You nod and he smiles down at you, the same measured smirk he always wears. He leans down and kisses your forehead, pulling up the sleeve of your robe to give you some semblance of modesty but leaving it open as he ushers you back inside, sliding the shoji shut behind him. Suguru crowds you into the room, leading his nearly lost lamb toward the futon while untying his own robe.
“Now, apologize like you mean it.”
Now, you fall to your knees, grateful he’s allowed you to show how sorry you are in the shadows of his room instead of by the light of the sun.
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“War is on the horizon.”
Sitting with your legs tucked beneath you at Suguru’s side on the elevated platform at the front of the room, you keep your eyes downcast while he addresses his congregation. This is your role, it has been for a very long time now, and you’ve learned to ignore curious onlookers or newcomers who will never be able to fathom such fanatical love. 
You love him so much you silence yourself. You sit by his side, so quiet you may as well be nothing but air. You have never learned how to defend yourself or even delved into the curses that used to weigh you down; freedom from these responsibilities came in the form of surrendering yourself fully to him. Body, mind, soul, all tied to his whims. You are a puppet on a string and he is free to move you in whichever way he chooses.
Just the way you like it.
“I’ve officially made the declaration to Satoru Gojo himself.”
For the first time in years, you look up when you are meant to look down, the anxious murmuring of the crowd making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. You know what happens when the congregation disagrees or questions their leader and he rises with a flourish, petting the back of your head gently before stepping off of the platform.
“Do I sense disagreement?”
Looking every bit the apex predator that he is, you dare keep your gaze trained on his back rather than the floor. His head swivels from one prostrate form to another, seeking out anyone who dares disagree with his plans. Foreheads touch the ground below them, the ultimate show of devotion, yet one head remains raised and Suguru chuckles as he approaches the newcomer.
You don’t know their name, you realize. You stopped bothering to learn the newcomer’s names given how little interaction you have with them. They’re nothing but faces to be forgotten about after they have spoken out of turn and met their end at the hands of the man standing with his chin held high.
“Is there something you’d like to say?”
Whatever boldness was previously etched into the face of the man kneeling before Suguru has very clearly disappeared but tension flares through the room regardless. You know that whatever choice he makes, however he chooses to deal with this foolish man, is exactly what he deserves. To spit in the face of God is bold and everyone has to learn their place eventually.
You certainly have.
“N-no, no. Please forgive me, Geto-sama.”
Suguru clicks his tongue, turning to face the rest of his family with his arms spread wide, face turned toward the ceiling. Your eyes are to be trained on the ground but you drink in the sight of him standing amongst the mortals who have always believed they know better than he does. 
“What do you think I should do to the non-believer today?”
The question is rhetorical. At least, the silent room treats it that way, no one rushing to answer. Everyone knows to only speak when spoken to, even the inner circle who welcomed you years ago keep their foreheads pressed to the ground. He quietly pads through the crowd again, headed back toward you, and your eyes meet the ground swiftly to avoid being punished for looking at him out of turn.
“Look at me.”
Yours are the only pair of eyes he ever truly cares to have on him. Following the command, you glance up at him, remaining with your knees tucked beneath you and your hands folded in your lap. The way he looks down at you is as tender as he will ever get, even his softness is cold and harsh, but he speaks loudly enough that even the room behind him can hear that he values your opinion above the rest of them.
“What do you think I should do with him?”
Smiling back at him, your glassy eyes meet his and you say exactly what you know he wants to hear.
“Kill him, Suguru.” 
Smirking, he reaches down to pinch your chin between his index finger and thumb like he always does when you are performing as expected. It isn’t a performance anymore, if it ever was, it’s simply the way you feel when it comes to those who oppose him. He wags your head back and forth before dropping the touch completely, turning around and leaving you facing his back. 
Your eyes dart toward the ground once more. You were not instructed to look at him.
Geto walks through the rows of people once more, reaching to touch the backs of each of their heads while he passes, finally stopping in front of his target. His hands rest in the opposite sleeve of each of them and he bends at the waist, offering the same smile he gives to all of his victims.
“Well, unfortunately, your fate has been chosen. You may as well speak now while you still have the chance.”
A curse materializes, brought to this realm by the man in front of you, and you keep your eyes trained on the ground while screams and the sound of the rending of flesh fill the congregation room.
You’ll only look up once you’re instructed, as always.
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smartycvnt · 22 hours
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Title: Talk It Out
Pairing: Rhea Ripley x Reader
Word Count: 984
You felt like everything was a bit too much. You had been fed loss after loss on the biggest stages offered. Tonight, however, it felt a little more personal. You hadn't been up for a championship, but it was your first time wrestling in your hometown in nearly five years. You had hoped for a win, to be hailed as a winner in your homecoming match, but instead, you had been humiliated.
You didn't know where you were going as you stormed off backstage. Everybody avoided you like the plague. Anger and discontent radiated off of you in waves. The looks of pity only made it all worse, so you went to the one place where nobody else would know to go.
The years spent working at this venue as a teenager had paid off well. All of the old secrets you had discovered were left how you remembered them. The stairwell leading up to the roof was still well hidden behind a janitor's closet door. You made your way up there, not expecting to be followed. It was supposed to be your chance to truly be alone for a few moments.
"Ash," Rhea called out softly. You didn't turn to look back at her. Still, she approached and sat down next to you. "How are you feeling?"
"Like a fucking loser. He told me things would be different, and the first major live event we have here, I get fucking squashed," you ranted. Rhea placed her hand on the small of your back. Usually, you would have leaned into the touch, but you couldn't handle any more humiliation. "Rhea, don't."
"What?" Rhea didn't bother hiding her surprise. You always leaned into her embraces and touches. It was a simple pleasure that Rhea could always count on. Her feelings for you had always kept her up at night. There was always a little voice in her head shouting at her to say or do something, but Rhea never did.
"I can't handle any more humiliation, so please just don't. Go downstairs and forget that I even came up here," you told her. Rhea's brows knit together in confusion. You sounded desperate and conflicted.
"What's humiliating about being comforted?" You had always been one to champion getting help when you needed it. Rhea knew that she'd be so much worse off mentally if it wasn't for you. You preached self love and care like nobody else, so Rhea really didn't understand why you were pushing her away when it was obvious that you needed someone.
"What happened to being kind to yourself? What happened to accepting love and comfort when you can't give it to yourself?" Rhea asked. She didn't mean to sound so angry with you, but she couldn't help the raising of her voice. You flinched away a little, just as much as you could without moving out of her arms.
"Rhea, please," you pleaded.
"Talk to me. Tell me what's going on," Rhea said. You dropped your head against her shoulder and turned to try and hide your tears. Rhea could feel them soaking through the fabric of her shirt. In that moment, everything around you was Rhea. You relished in the momentary comfort that her presence granted you before it was ripped away. You hated that you got so in your head about Rhea. The two of you had been friends for years, and your feelings had never gotten in the way before.
"I love you," you mumbled against Rhea's skin.
"I love you too, Ash." The way that Rhea said it broke your heart. You had heard it a million times before, and it didn't sound any different. She had obviously heard you, but Rhea didn't understand. Once again, she felt your hot tears begin to soak into the collar of her shirt. "What's wrong? I hate seeing you like this. Tell me what I can do to help."
"You can't do anything. You've got Dom, and I'm stuck here by myself. There will always be a long line of people who come before me, and I thought that I was okay with it, but I'm not. I love you, and I want so much more than what we've got." You were practically sobbing into her at this point. Rhea gently cupped your cheeks as she pulled your face out from the crook of her neck.
"I need you to look at me. I need you to listen to me, not just hear me, but listen, okay?" Rhea gave you a moment to compose yourself before she spoke again, "I love you too. I feel the same way about you, okay?"
"Y-you do?" You couldn't believe it. You needed to hear Rhea tell you again. It would have been your luck for her to not mean it and start laughing in your face. However, that never came. Instead, you felt the gentle press of her lips against yours. You kissed her back, just as gently as she kissed you.
"I love you. I'll say it a million more times if I have to, but there are better ways for me to show you," Rhea laughed nervously. Your eyes lit up as her words registered in your brain. "Let's get back down there. A lot of people are worried about you, and if I kiss you again, I'm not sure that I'd be able to stop myself from doing more. I've wanted this for a long time."
"Me too." You smiled at Rhea as the two of you stood up and made your way back down to everybody else. Rhea had you tucked under her good arm as she walked you to the locker room so that you could get out of your gear and into your regular clothes. A few people came up to check on you, but they kept a decent distance because of Rhea's proximity to you.
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onceuponapuffin · 2 days
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Fanatic Intervention Part 9!!
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*****************
You pound your way to the nearest bar, where everyone had agreed to meet. The three of them are standing around, talking over glasses of wine. Your hands are in fists, your nails digging into your palms as you approach. They acknowledge you as you enter their field of vision, but you say nothing. Instead, you beeline for Aziraphale, put your arms around him, and hang on for dear life. Sometimes you just need to hug an angel.
There’s a pause where Anathema says something about your aura, and then Aziraphale hugs you back.
Dear Reader, I’m not sure if it ever happened in your life, but for this Puffin there came a time when it was made very clear that wanting to be held or wanting to lean on another person in public was unacceptable (and, in fact, embarrassing) once you reached a certain age. And yet, we as humans are social creatures. The need to be held is a very normal response, especially after something particularly upsetting happens (like having the sanctity of washroom privacy violated, for example). Perhaps you’re not the kind of person who, out of nowhere, feels the desire to be held, but perhaps you know someone who is. And so, I would like to impress upon you the incredible difference it makes, the immeasurable relief it brings, to know that you have someone with you who will hold you back without question or comment. Just hold you, and wait.
Aziraphale makes it clear he intends to do just that.
“Take your time, dear,” he says gently. And so you do.
After a moment, the clink of a glass next to you makes you look up. Someone has given you a glass of the same wine everyone else has. You pull away and take a sip, feeling much calmer and very grateful.
“Thanks,” You say.
“Anytime,” Aziraphale replies.
“What happened?” Anathema asks.
Thus, you recount how Metatron trapped you in the washroom until he had said his peace. By the time you finish, there are three very angry faces around you. You feel validated enough to take another, much larger, sip of the wine. Aziraphale is the first to speak.
“Well for starters, I invite you to stay in my bookshop however long you like. Pet indeed! You are a help, yes, but you are a guest, and certainly not disposable, whatever he says.”
“And,” Crowley adds, “From what you said, Aziraphale and I can get you home whenever you want anyway. Probably, I mean. No dUbIOus motives involved, at least.”
Anathema seems to be thinking. After another few seconds, she asks:
“Why did you take the coffee?”
You all look at her, surprised.
“Well I mean,” she continues, “If the Metatron wants to know, he probably has a reason. If you tell us, maybe we can figure it out for ourselves and find a way around it.”
“Or they could just not tell him,” Crowley suggests with snark. “Then it doesn’t matter.”
“I mean, it might,” Anathema counters, “We don’t know that it doesn’t.”
“I took it because of the Coffee Theory,” You say with a shrug. It’s not like it’s a big deal. “But I mean, I don’t know why that would matter to him.”
“Well,” Anathema says, “That might depend on what the Coffee Theory is.”
“Well, it’s the idea that the Metatron did something to that coffee he was going to give Aziraphale. To, like, make Aziraphale trust him, or listen to him or whatever, so that he would go back to Heaven.” You pause. “There’s also an interpretation of it where it was a metaphor like ‘take my offer or face death.’ But most people think about the first one, and that’s the one that was in my brain when I did it. There aren’t a lot of people who actually believe it. I mean, not anymore, anyway.”
“So you think the Metatron drugged Aziraphale’s coffee?” Anathema raises an eyebrow. “And you drank it, yes? So...did he?”
“No,” You reply, “It was exactly what it was supposed to be. An oat milk latte with almond syrup. And I didn’t think he actually messed with it. I just wasn’t willing to take the chance, that’s all.”
Crowley’s face scrunches. “And you think he might need to know that for some reason?” He looks pointedly at Anathema.
“He might,” She gives a thoughtful hum. “I’ll think about it. I might ask the Cards later.”
-----------
The wait for boarding didn’t feel so long after that. As you board, you notice how spacious First Class is. Aziraphale and Crowley sit in the seats ahead of you and Anathema, with Aziraphale in the window seat. You notice Crowley casually trying to stick his legs out into the aisle and wonder vaguely whether it’s because he needs the space, or to try and trip the flight attendants. Both? Probably both. Okay, definitely both, you note, as a stewardess almost falls face-first into the aisle. Aziraphale gently swats at Crowley in reprimand, but you can tell it’s half-hearted and wholly-fond.
Your only trouble comes when you need to use the washroom, but Anathema, ever clever and aura-observant, suggests to go with you so that you can knock if anything goes wrong. Thankfully, nothing does, and you both return to your seats.
“You know,” Anathema says, leaning forward, “I just overheard the strangest thing. It seems that all of the normal airline food on this plane has gone missing. All that they have to serve is the first-class food.”
“Wait,” You say, holding back a laugh, “So everyone on this flight gets to eat the fancy, chef-prepared, gourmet meals?”
Crowley doesn’t hold back his laugh. “Oh, the big bosses won’t like that!”
“You two wouldn’t have had anything to do with that, would you?” Anathema asks suspiciously. You notice she’s smiling while she says it.
“Psh!” Crowley waves away the thought. “Why would I? Doesn’t matter to me either way.”
“Honestly, Miss Device,” Aziraphale adds, “I have no idea why you immediately accuse us of something that seems so clearly to be a mere...clerical error.”
Ah-ha! Culprit found. Clerical error your arse.
“You know,” You sigh, “It really is no wonder why Crowley loves you so much.”
“Ngk,” says Crowley. Aziraphale responds with a pleased-sounding hum. You relax, and notice between the seats that Aziraphale places his hand on top of Crowley’s and leaves it there.
They like holding hands – your insides scream.
--------
When you disembark from the plane, you hear all the other passengers around you complimenting the flight attendants on the excellent food and promising to leave excellent reviews online. You keep your laughter as quiet as you can. Aziraphale’s little prank is going to cause the airline issues for YEARS. Crowley must be so proud.
The speed and ease with which you clear customs and baggage claim is probably because you’re traveling with two supernatural entities. In no time at all, you’re outside of the airport flagging down a cab. Crowley opens the door with enthusiasm and outright glee.
“After you, Angel,” he says, “You think 90 miles an hour in London is bad, I can’t wait for you to see this!”
Dear Reader, I don’t know if you have ever been to New York City, but I assure you that Crowley’s driving has nothing on the NYC cabbies. Aziraphale spends the entire drive trying to hold on to something and taking deep breaths as the cab violently jerks to a stop millimeters from the car in front. You suggest he close his eyes. He does. It doesn’t seem to help.
-------
The taxi lets you out in front of The Ritz. Because of course you’re staying at The Ritz. Aziraphale goes to check in while Crowley tells Anathema he needs the washroom, and mutters to you that he wants to empty all the soap dispensers. You try so hard to hold in your laughter that it comes out your nose anyway. The demon flashes you a cheeky grin before disappearing around the corner. Anathema looks at you.
“Probably been a while since he had a fresh audience,” You say to her. She chuckles.
“And you’re so obliging too. No doubt he’s having a great time with all this.”
“Hey, Anathema,” You begin uncertainly, “How...I mean...I’m just worried about...things. How are we going to find Jesus anyway? I just...I don’t really have anymore information to give. I don’t even know if he’s going to be a baby or an adult this time.”
“Hm...” Anathema thinks for a minute, “Well, I’m going to try and get some readings, see if I can get some kind of direction for us to go in. It’s a big country, but what I’m hoping is that it will sort of work like dowsing.”
“Dowsing? Like looking for water with sticks?”
“Sort of. In a nutshell, you pay attention to the vibrations in the Earth, and the closer you get, the stronger the vibrations become. It makes sense to think that Jesus would make pretty noticeable vibrations. That’s my working hypothesis anyway.”
You nod. That will do for now. Aziraphale and Crowley both return, with the demon wiping his hands on his trousers, and the four of you take the elevator to your room.
The Royal Suite.
“Are...you….serious??” Anathema asks. Honestly, you’re too stunned looking around the enormous suite with four bedrooms to say anything. It’s bigger than most houses. You take out your phone and start taking pictures.
“Well, if we’re going to stay at The Ritz,” Aziraphale says cheerfully, pronouncing the capital letters, “Best to do it Properly.”
“But this is ridiculous!”
Aziraphale isn’t paying attention anymore. He’s gone to tell Crowley not to draw mustaches on the expensive artwork.
“Unlimited resources,” You say to her, “Make for expensive taste.”
“No, kidding,” she sighs, “I’m glad you’re here. I’m gonna need some help with these two.”
Ha, You think to yourself, I knew it.
❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤
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^ If you want to see JUST how ridiculous the royal suite is.
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livin4mybabes · 2 days
Text
between goals and hearts | jude bellingham ft. pedri gonzalez
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Part 1: Unveiling Affections
pairing: pedri gonzalez x reader; jude bellingham x reader
summary: Unveiling AffectionsIn the heart of Madrid, Elena navigates the complexities of her heart amidst her work for a prominent football team. As her friendship with Pedri deepens and a new player, Jude, enters her life, she finds herself caught between loyalty and newfound feelings.
warnings: none
author's note: I'm back with a new story and hopefully, my first serie. I hope you liked it! And if you want me to tag you en the part 2, let me know 👀
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the bustling streets of Madrid. In the heart of the city, where soccer chants echoed through narrow alleys, lived a girl named Elena. Her life revolved around two things: her job as a community manager for a prominent football team and the complicated dance of her heart.
Elena had known Pedri since they were kids. They met during a summer soccer camp, their shared passion for the game forging an unbreakable bond. As they grew older, their friendship deepened. Pedri's laughter was her refuge, and his unwavering support kept her grounded. But there was something more—a lingering tension that neither dared to address.
Then came Jude—a whirlwind of charisma and talent. He'd arrived in Madrid a year ago, signing with the team. Elena's first encounter with him was at a charity event. She'd been tasked with coordinating player appearances, and there he was: tall, with eyes that held secrets and a smile that could melt glaciers. Jude's charm was magnetic, pulling her into his orbit.
Elena had been working around the clock to ensure the charity event for Real Madrid was a flawless success. As the community manager, her responsibilities included coordinating the players' schedules, managing media coverage, and overseeing the event logistics. The charity gala, aimed at raising funds for underprivileged children in Madrid, was the kind of project that fueled her passion for making a difference through her work.
The grand ballroom of the Hotel Ritz was buzzing with anticipation, elegantly decorated with banners of the club and adorned with dazzling lights that set the perfect backdrop for the evening. As guests arrived in their finest attire, the air filled with a mix of excitement and the soft melodies of a string quartet playing in the corner.
Elena was in the midst of checking in guests when she noticed Jude, the team's recent transfer and a rising star, entering the venue. Known for his swift moves on the field and his charismatic presence off it, Jude carried with him an aura of both confidence and accessibility. Elena had seen him in team meetings and during practice sessions but had never interacted with him directly.
As Jude approached, Elena straightened her posture, smoothing down her black dress, and prepared to give him the usual briefing she gave all the players.
“Good evening, Jude,” she greeted him with a professional smile.
“Thank you for being here tonight. Your presence means a lot to the children we’re supporting.”
Jude returned her smile, his eyes briefly scanning the name tag pinned to her blazer.
“Elena, right? I’ve heard about the incredible work you’ve been putting into this event. It looks fantastic.”
Taken aback by his acknowledgment, Elena felt a warm flush of pride.
“Thank you, Jude. I’m glad you think so. There’s a photo session scheduled for you in about ten minutes, and then you're free to enjoy the evening until the auction starts. I can take you to the media area whenever you’re ready.”
“Actually, I’d appreciate a quick tour of the place if you don’t mind,” Jude suggested, his tone casual yet genuinely interested.
“I’m still getting used to these events, and it would be great to have an expert guide.”
Elena nodded, pleasantly surprised by his request. As they walked through the venue, she pointed out the different sections: the silent auction tables laden with memorabilia, the dining area with its meticulously arranged tables, and the small stage where testimonials and speeches would be held later in the evening.
Throughout the tour, they engaged in light conversation. Jude was curious about the organization’s work, asking insightful questions that showed his interest in more than just the surface details. Elena, in turn, was impressed by his genuine concern for the cause and his easygoing nature, making her job as a coordinator much easier.
“What made you decide to get involved in charity work?” Jude asked as they paused by the display of children’s artwork, part of the auction items for the evening.
Elena smiled, her eyes lighting up as she spoke.
“I’ve always believed in using whatever platform we have to make a difference. Working with Real Madrid gives me the opportunity to reach out and help on a larger scale. Every little bit counts, right?”
Jude nodded, his expression thoughtful.
“Absolutely. It’s refreshing to see someone so dedicated to these causes. Makes me want to get involved more too.”
As they concluded the tour, Jude thanked her for the insights.
“I hope I’ll get to work more directly with you on future projects, Elena. It’s been enlightening.”
Elena felt a flutter of excitement at the prospect.
“I’d like that, Jude. Enjoy the evening, and let me know if there’s anything else you need.”
Watching him blend back into the crowd, Elena couldn't help but feel that this charity event had just taken on an even more significant meaning. Not only was she helping a cause close to her heart, but she had also made a connection that might extend beyond just professional boundaries.
They became friends, she and Jude. Late-night conversations over tapas turned into shared secrets. He listened when she spoke about her dreams, her fears, and the ache in her heart. Jude was caring, attentive, and dangerously easy to fall for.
The friendship between Elena and Jude had blossomed effortlessly in the weeks following the charity event. They found themselves seeking each other's company more frequently, sharing lunches, coffee breaks, and the occasional dinner after work. It was during one of these dinners that their conversation drifted from light-hearted banter to more personal and flirtatious exchanges. They laughed easily, the air charged with an unspoken attraction that was becoming harder to ignore.
Elena sipped her wine, her gaze on Jude.
“Why did you become a footballer?”
He leaned back, his eyes tracing the constellations.
“For the rush—the adrenaline of the game. But also because it’s a language everyone understands. On the field, we’re equals.”
She smiled. “And off the field?”
Jude’s fingers brushed hers. “Off the field, I want to understand you.”
As they talked, the night unfolded like a story. Jude shared tales of his childhood, the winding streets of his hometown, and the way the sea smelled after a storm. Elena listened, captivated by his words. She told him about her love for job, everything.
They laughed, their laughter mingling with the soft music playing in the background. Jude’s eyes held a warmth that made Elena’s heart flutter. She wondered if he felt it too—the unspoken connection that pulled them together.
When dessert arrived—a decadent chocolate mousse—Jude leaned closer.
“Elena,” he said, “do you believe in fate?”
She traced the rim of her wine glass.
“I think sometimes the universe conspires to bring people together.”
He chuckled. “Well, then maybe it conspired to bring us here tonight.”
The night stretched into dawn, and they walked along the rooftop’s edge, fingers brushing. Jude pointed out constellations, weaving stories about mythical heroes and lost loves. Elena leaned against the railing, the city below a tapestry of lights.
“Tell me,” she said, “what’s your favorite memory?”
Jude hesitated, then looked at her with an intensity that stole her breath.
“This one,” he whispered. “Right now.”
One evening, after another enjoyable outing, Elena met up with her friend Sofia at their favorite café. The place was cozy, with soft music playing in the background, creating the perfect atmosphere for confessions.
"You seem different, Elena, lighter somehow. What's going on?" Sofia prodded with a knowing smile as they settled into their seats.
Elena bit her lip, her heart fluttering at the mention of Jude. "Well, I've been spending more time with Jude lately. He's... there's just something about him. We connect so easily, and he makes me laugh."
Sofia's eyes sparkled with mischief.
"Oh, sounds like someone has a crush! But isn't there something about Pedri? Last time we talked, you were unsure about him."
Elena sighed, her excitement dimming slightly. "Yes, I still think about Pedri sometimes. We’ve been friends for a long time, and there's always been this 'what if' hanging over us. But with Jude, it feels different, more... intense."
Laughing, Sofia nudged her playfully.
"Why don't you see where things go with Jude? Life’s too short for 'what ifs.' Besides, a little romance might clear up those doubts about Pedri."
Encouraged by Sofia's words, Elena agreed to go on another date with Jude. They chose a romantic restaurant overlooking the city, where the lights twinkled like distant stars. The night was filled with laughter and shared stories, and as they walked through the plaza afterwards, their hands brushed together. Jude took her hand in his, and the touch sent a thrill up her spine.
Stopping under the soft glow of a street lamp, Jude looked into her eyes, his gaze intense. "Elena, I've been wanting to do this for a while now," he murmured, leaning closer.
The world seemed to hold its breath as their lips met in a tentative kiss that quickly deepened. The kiss was a promise, filled with all the pent-up longing they had felt. As they pulled apart, the air between them crackled with sexual tension, both aware of the electricity that surged with that simple touch.
Elena's heart raced as Jude gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. The night felt endless, and the possibilities limitless. Yet, in the back of her mind, a shadow lingered—the thought of Pedri and the unresolved feelings there. But for now, she was caught up in the moment, under the spell of the budding romance with Jude.
The evening ended with a sweet goodbye, leaving Elena to walk back to her apartment under the starlit sky, her mind a whirl of emotions. She felt exhilarated and terrified all at once, wondering if she had started something that could either blossom beautifully or leave her caught between two worlds.
As she lay in bed later that night, Elena couldn't help but replay the kiss in her mind, the warmth of Jude's lips on hers still lingering. The joy of the moment was palpable, but so were the doubts about what this meant for her friendship with Pedri. She knew she would have to face her feelings head-on, but for tonight, the memory of Jude's kiss brought a smile to her face, and she allowed herself to drift into sleep, wrapped in the sweet possibility of new love.
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hockeyboysimagines · 2 days
Text
I’ve loved you three
Summers
Chapter 3
Warnings: language, kissing, mild sexual content, some angst and mentions of manipulative/abusive relationships.
Hello friends! Happy this is starting to catch on a bit. @cellythefloshie s chapter should be up soon! When it’s posted I’ll link it here!
Thanks!! Enjoy and let me know what you think.
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The grocery store was mostly empty at this early morning hour and Madison was thankful because she had Seth on the brain.
They’d parted ways last night with more kissing and she hadn’t seen him since then.
And she was kind of glad.
She hadn’t even begun to process what had happened the night before and was still not totally sure it wasn’t a dream. The situation with her and Seth could go one of two ways. It could either be a wonderful amazing adventure or she could run the risk of losing a lifelong friend. It really just came down whether it was worth the risk, which she already decided it was. But it wasn’t only up to her. She had no idea how he was feeling.
If she hadn’t been thinking about Seth, she would have been paying closer attention, but she didn’t even see him coming till it was too late.
“Madison?”
She turned and felt something that could only be described as dread start to settle in her stomach.
Darren was standing a few feet away, fake smile plastered on his face, the same one he wore the very first time she ever met him. She did not return it.
“Hey how are you?” He moved closer and she took a small step back. Annoyance flickered across his face.
“Fine.” She moved to walk away from him but when he followed and she turned to face him fully, arms crossed with a frown.
“Is uh-is Harper here?” He asked glancing over her shoulder.
She scoffed “No Darren. She’s not here, but I’m guessing you knew that already. Leave my sister alone.”
“How is she?”
“Did you hear what I just said? It’s none of your business. If you wanted to know that I guess you should have spent the last 6 years treating her better.” Madison’s brows were pulled low over her eyes which were blazing with anger. She wanted to punch him right in the throat and run him over with the cart.
“You don’t know anything!” He snapped loudly at her, drawing the attention of the few people nearby.
But Madison wasn’t having it and stood her ground.
“You might have been able to bully my sister but don’t think for one second you’re going to bully me.” Madison was glaring at him “Stay away from Harper. If you ever really loved her you’ll let her move on. Or if you want to tempt fate show up to the house. I dare you.” Madison smiled a little and for the first time Darren’s confidence faltered. He knew better.
“Can you tell her-“
“Fuck off.” She turned away from him, heart beating loudly in her chest. Darren didn’t scare her, but her sister potentially having to suffer for it did.
She didn’t want to tell Harper and upset her but it would also upset her if she didn’t and Harper found out later. She was glad she had elected to take the grocery store errand and that Harper didn’t or it would be a very different conversation they’d be having
Madison checked out, not even sure she'd gotten everything, and made her way home, noting Seth’s car absent from his driveway, but that Harper’s car was parked in theirs.
She made her way very slowly inside, dreading the conversation she was going to be forced to have with her, and found her at the island in the kitchen.
Harper glanced up with a big smile but it faded a little when she saw her face “You didn’t hit another car in the parking lot, did you?” she teased.
Maddie shook her head and cleared her throat “I ran into Darren while I was at the store, i was just grabbing-“ she sighed, it didn’t really matter what she was grabbing “Nevermind, when he approached me, he acted like he just happened to be there at the same time, which was fine, until he started looking around, waiting, as if you were just going to walk up to us right there in the store, and when you didn’t he got really….” Maddie trailed off “Angry. He started asking where you were, how he could contact you. If I could give you a message-“
Harper’s face was unreadable, and Maddie wasn’t sure if she was mad or sad or even maybe a little bit scared. It had upset Maddie that she’d seen him and he made a huge scene like that, but it would upset her more if this upset Harper.
Sighing, Harper ran her hand through her hair, and sat down with her sister at the island shoulders slouched “He knows where I am,” she sighed, “He’s just too scared to come here.”
They shared a smile and Maddie said, “Dad.”
“Exactly. I can be safe here-” Maddie frowned hoping that Harper wasn’t alluding to what she thought she was “Hey,” she took her sister’s arm, “He never hurt me. Not in the way you think. And he didn’t hurt you, right?”
“I would have cut his hand right off if he had touched me.” Harper laughed and hugged Maddie to her.
”You still going out with your friends?”
Maddie nodded. She had lunch planned with friends mostly as a distraction and to give her some extra thinking time before she saw Seth later on. She would be prepared by then.
“Good, you go get ready, I’ll put the groceries away. Before you go, my new number is on the fridge, and if you need me and I’m not in here, I’ll be by the pool.”
Madison stood and squeezed her hand “I’m really glad you left him Harper. He never deserved you.”
She made her way through the house and up the steps to her room to ready herself for lunch with friends.
**********
Seth was sitting on his bed with his arms crossed staring at the opposite wall. His house was completely silent, which was unusual under normal circumstances but now with Svech living there it was even more. He’d watched Madison leave early, and then leave again and had been sitting in silence since then thinking about her.
He’d done a lot of reflection over the last few hours, having not slept barely at all, and he’d come to the conclusion that he and Madison just made sense. The writing had been on the wall for years and he’d been so wrapped up in hockey that he hadn't been playing close enough attention. If he had it wouldn’t have taken him 21 summers to realize that there’d always been something there just under the surface. It couldn’t be undone now, and it almost made him laugh at how dumb he was. Things he’d forgotten about were starting to come back to him. Most of their close friends knew that their friendship was strictly a friendship. But there had been some questions about them and their relationship over the years.
“So what’s with you and Madison Alexander?”
Seth looked up and frowned at Meghan, a girl he’d been kind of hanging out with for the last week or so. She was picking at a manicured fingernail and glanced up.
“What do you mean?”
She shrugged and crossed her arms “Well you guys seem close and she’s the most popular girl in school.” She said it with some bitterness. Madison was in fact the most popular girl in school and for good reason. She was gorgeous, friendly and approachable, and Seth could tell Meghan was jealous. Madison’s popularity wasn’t anything new to him though and he never really thought about her the way others did. But Meghan was obviously insecure and he could sort of understand why.
She was popular but not Madison popular and the one times they’d crossed paths Meghan had been standoffish. Maddie seemed to not notice, but Seth did and it was starting to make sense now.
“And that’s got what to do with anything?”
Meghan shrugged “Just wondering.”
“Mads is my oldest friend. We basically grew up together.”
“And you like her?”
Seth paused and turned to her “No….? Not like that anyways-“
“Then why’d you blow me off for her last night?”
He hadn’t.
Well sort of. He was supposed to hang out with Meghan the night before but he’d spent the afternoon with Maddie and Harper next door. So when they’d insisted he come with them to get food, he had cancelled plans with Meghan and went with Maddie and Harper instead, unbeknownst to them.
He liked Meghan but she could be a lot, and hanging out with Maddie and Harper was so easy.
“I just-“
“I think your hanging out with me and hooking up with her or the other one behind my back.”
“Woah woah hang on.” He held up a hand “First of all, I’m not hooking up with Madison and if I was I wouldn’t be hanging out with you, and second of all, Harper is 23 and used to babysit us. What is your problem? Maddie’s been nothing but nice since you met her.”
“I don’t want you hanging out with her.”
Seth’s mouth fell open “Are you kidding? Your telling me who I can and can’t hang out with? We’ve been talking for like a week.”
“Okay well let me make it really easy for you then. If you wanna continue to talk, and you wanna date me, you can’t be friends with her.” She crossed her arms “Pick one.”
Serbs mouth fell open and he scoffed “Okay. Her.”
The smile slipped from her face and her mouth opened “Wh-what did you say?”
“Her.”
Meghan started yelling and pointing and calling him names, which he wasn’t surprised about, and next thing he knew he was making his way through his backyard and into Madison’s.
She smiled and waved “Hey you okay?”
He sat down on the chair next to her “Fine why?”
She raised an eyebrow and he sighed “You know that girl? Meghan that I was hanging out with?”
“Mhm.” She curled a leg underneath her and pushed a strand of hair from her forehead.
“She-I blew her off to hang out with you guys last night-“
“Seth why would-“
“And she told me that if I wanna date her I can’t be friends with you anymore.”
Maddie looked alarmed and her lips parted “Wow. That escalated uh-fast. So what did you say?”
He gave her a long look “You’ve been a great friend so it sucks that we have to stop being friends this way -“ but he couldn’t even get the words out before he started laughing.
A smile broke out across her face “You douche.”
“I’m kidding. I told her that I didn’t think it was gonna work. I’m not going to give up my friends.”
“I get it but still. That’s not fair of her to ask in my opinion and for her to think we’re hooking up is crazy.”
He chuckled and leaned back arms crossed “Not really. She thought I was hooking up with Harper too.”
“WHAT.”
A splash from next door interrupted his thoughts and he pushed himself up into a kneeling position on his bed. From his room he could see clear into both the Alexander’s back yard, Maddie’s room and part of the kitchen. It had made for one hell of a vantage point for years of hide and seek.
But what surprised him even more was that the splash from the pool was not only Harper, but Svech as well. A bold move he thought to himself with a smile and a chuckle.
Oh he was so getting in on this.
**********
It was late afternoon when Maddie returned home, now noting that all the cars, except her dads cruiser, were accounted for in both driveways, and that Seth and Andrei were both out front.
Fuck.
She hadn’t talked to him all day, assuming he too was deep in thought about what had happened the night before or he was avoiding her. She’d also been a little worried that maybe he hadn’t been thinking about her at all. Maybe it was just another kiss with another girl and things would go back to normal. Either way, she wasn't about to reach out first. She didn’t even know what to say to him.
By the time she got out of the car Andrei had all but disappeared and Seth was making his way over looking at her apprehensively and smiled “Hi.”
She felt her knees get weak and sucked in a breath “Hi.”
She shut her car door and made her way to the front meeting him in the middle. He looked nervous, and she reached forward grabbing his hand and motioned towards her house with a smile “Come on.”
Harper wasn’t in the lower half of the house, and was presumably unpacking in her basement apartment. Seth followed her up the stairs and into her bedroom, which he’d been in before but that was before he’d kissed her in the backyard.
She shut the door behind her and turned to him, brushing past him and sitting on her bed. She patted the space next to her motioning for him to sit. He felt nervous and sweaty and he had no clue what was going on with him. He never got nervous to talk to girls but kissing her last night had rattled him.
Maddie was different. But thinking back he realized she’d always been different to him.
He cleared his throat “So about last night. Should we talk about it?” His arm brushed hers and sent goosebumps across it and despite the warm weather she gave a little shiver.
Maddie looked at her legs dangling off the bed and smiled “Probably..” she had her hands resting on her knees and tentatively he reached out to hold one, resting it there a second before he spoke.
“You know I really care about you right?”
She nodded, her thumb sweeping across the skin of his hand “Yes.”
“And I would never jeopardize our friendship if I didn’t think that maybe we were more than that?…Are we more than that?”
“I think we could be. If you want that is.” She smiled at him, hair spilling over her shoulder as she turned her head to the side. If she hadn’t been holding his hand he would have thought this was a dream. She’d smiled at him more times than he could count, but never like this. It made his stomach churn, and his heart start to pound.
“More than you know. So does that mean I can kiss you again?”
She smiled and nodded, meeting him halfway fingers still intertwined with his. He kissed her very slowly and sweetly, the hand that wasn’t holding hers came up to slide up her neck and rest on her cheek.
It did not last.
Years of feelings and sexual tension began to bubble over like water on a stove. She gave him a little tug and they moved over the bed, her underneath him as he slotted himself between her legs and a hand tangled in her hair. She lost track of what she was doing and let out a breath when he ground his pelvis into hers.
“Is your dad home?” He murmured against her mouth, breath coming out in gasps.
“No.” She pulled the back of his shirt up, tugging it over his head and tossing it down on the floor. She unbuttoned the tank top she was wearing as he sprung the zipper on her shorts and pulled them down her legs, leaning forward to kiss her again as she pulled at the waistband of his shorts. Her heart was beating so loud it was drowning out the hearing in her ears but not enough that they didn’t hear the front door slam from downstairs startling them apart.
“Girls! You home?” Her dad called. She heard his footsteps start to come up the steps and Seth jumped off of her, looking around in a panic. She jumped up nearly falling over as she yanked her shorts up and threw on his shirt, shoving him inside her closet just as her dad knocked on the door. She took a deep breath and opened it.
“Oh hey dad-what uhm. What’s up?” She was breathing heavy and leaned against the door.
He was frowning at her “Are you okay?”
“Yeah why wouldn’t I be okay?” She chuckled a little.
He looked past her into her room and then down at her clothes “Who’s shirt is that?”
“Oh it’s-mine, it’s mine. I found it in my closet.” She was a terrible liar and she could see her dad didn’t believe a word she said.
He nodded slowly eyebrows raised “Right. Is your sister home?”
“I think she’s in the basement.”
“Okay are you staying in for the rest of the day?”
She glanced at the closet “Mhm.”
“Great. I’m going to go talk to Harper and then get some sleep.”
“Okay sounds good. Get some rest big guy, you deserve it. Love you.” She called leaning out the doorway with a big smile.
He chuckled “Love you too Mads.”
She closed the door casually and locked it, letting out the breath she’d been holding and creeping across the floor to open the closet. Seth was crying with laughter inside the closet, hand over his mouth as he leaned on the wall and whispered “He definitely knew I was in here. He’s gonna kill me I-“
“He’s definitely going to kill you if he hears you in here now shh!” Madison shushed him with a giggle and made her way across the room to close her curtains, and flipped her tv on, leaving them in partial darkness. She pulled Seth’s shirt over her head and handed it to him, reaching for her own shirt on the end of the bed.
He sat on her bed and shrugged it back on “This looks better on you.” He watched her with admiration as she pulled the tank top back on over her shoulders and buttoned it, pushing her hair over her shoulder.
She smiled at him and turned the volume on the tv up enough that they could talk undetected and seated herself next to him, getting as close as she possibly could. Though this was the first time she’d ever laid next to him in bed in a romantic way, it felt so natural. Like they’d been doing this since forever, almost as if it was meant to be. He ran a hand up her arm to her shoulder, turning slightly so he could lean down to kiss her again, but she pulled away, instead running her lips over his jaw, tongue sliding across his neck.
She could feel him squirming around and smiled a little.
“Stop.” He pulled her mouth off his neck, holding her face in his hands.
“Stop what?”
“You know what. If you keep doing that I’m gonna start yelling. And then you know what’ll happen.”
“My dad finding you in my room half dressed? He’d probably shoot you.”
“Your dad loves me.” he ran a hand up the side of her neck.
“Not that much.” She sucked in a breath as he leaned down to kiss her again, hand brushing up under her shirt. As his fingers moved across her waist, goosebumps bloomed across her skin and she gave a shiver. She wanted to so bad, but her sisters room was directly under hers and her dad was just down the hall.
He pulled back to look at her, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek “You know we can’t do this right?” He said quietly with a small frown “Not with an audience. And I wanna do this right.”
She nodded and sighed “I know. Where though?” She added with a chuckle.
He laughed and ran his fingers through her hair “We’re in our 20s. It’s supposed to be easier to find places to hook up, not harder.”
She chuckled and sighed “I know. But I live with Elliot Stabler and the genius who’s spiraling in the basement and these walls are paper thin. How do you think Harper knows about all the bad shit we did growing up.”
He laughed and ran a finger across her collarbone “True. My house is out of the question too, between my parents and Svechy. Hey we-“
“Absolutely not.” She said putting a hand up.
“You don’t even-“
“The Tiguan is out of the question Seth.”
His mouth fell open and he deflated a little “Okay okay. Just a suggestion sheesh….but out of curiosity why not? Is there something wrong with my Tiguan?”
“That thing is one hopped curb short of being held together by duct tape. Too much movement and it’s falling apart.”
“You have a lot of confidence in my abilities.”
She rolled her eyes and gave the skin on his waist a squeeze “Guess that means you’ll have to really wow me.”
“Oh I’ll wow you.” He said leaning down to kiss her.
Hours later, she’d managed to sneak Seth out undetected and sent him back to his house with another quick kiss and a wave and she was now lying across her bed fighting the urge to kick and squeal because her dad was still asleep down the hall.
She felt her phone buzz and picked it up to see a message from Seth.
What are the odds you can sneak out later?
She smiled and glanced up through the curtains at his window Not so great. That’s the trouble living with a trained investigator.
Damn. Guess I’ll just have to visualize. So what’re you wearing?
Madison giggled and put a hand over her mouth eyes swiveling to the ceiling An oversized shirt and socks.
That’s it? Nothing else?
Like what?
Nothing underneath?
Maddie grinned evily Why would there be? I don’t wear underwear
Across the yard, in Seth’s room a phone slipped from his hand and fell to the floor. He let his head fall back and huffed.
She was killing him.
He’d kissed her on two occasions and she had him wrapped, but before he could have any more thoughts about Madison, or her underwear or anything, Svech burst through the door to his bedroom startling him.
“Do they not practice KNOCKING in Russia Jesus Christ.” He said grabbing the spot over his heart.
“What are you smiling about? And where you been all afternoon?” Andrei asked him sitting at the end of his bed.
“None of your business nosey. How goes the plan to get Harper to acknowledge your existence? Or are you still invisible?”
“Ha ha.” He said squinting at him “We’re not talking about me.”
Seth laughed and shrugged “I’m just having a good day is all.”
“And does that good day have a name? Madison maybe?”
Seth kicked at him “Never you mind about my good day. What’s the next step in your master scheme? You’ve tried stalking, complimenting-“
“I did not stalk her-“
“You.” Seth said sitting up pointing at him “Showed up at her job to go running when she didn’t want you there. I don’t know what they call that in Russia but here that’s stalking my guy.”
“And you.” Andre said pointing at him “Went with me so that makes you an accomplice. And I did it at the suggestion of your good day.”
“My good day never explicitly told you-“
“Aha! So she is your good day.” Andrei said slapping him on the shin and grinning.
Seth sputtered at him for a second before he broke out into a smile “Fuck off.”
“Joking, I’m joking. Is that what Harper meant by “Being good to my sister? Or whatever she said.”
“I think so. Maddie must have said something, I don’t know. Harper knows everything about everyone so maybe she just guessed. She’s smart.” He tapped his temple and Andrei rolled his eyes.
“So tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
“Don’t be an idiot okay?”
Seth was laughing and shrugged “It’s been nice. We gotta get you your own Alexander sister buddy.” He slapped him on the back and stood “Come on, can we go eat I’m starving. We can hatch a plan to make Harper fall in love with you before the summers over.”
Andrei watched as Seth stood and cleared his throat “So you think she might like me a little bit? Maybe?”
Seth grinned “ She will if I have anything to do with it.”
**************
Maddie made her way through the house looking for Harper. She couldn’t talk with her dad about it, and her friends had been too wrapped up with their stuff to pay Maddie and her summer dramas any mind. In fact it had been over a week since she’d even seen or spoken to them. While Harper gave great advice, she was also uniquely qualified to speak about her and Seth because she’d basically raised both of them. Harper wouldn’t steer her wrong.
But really Maddie just wanted to talk. As a teen, before Harper moved out, they’d spent many nights talking and giggling together until their dad finally had to enforce curfew because they were keeping him up at night.
But as Maddie opened the basement door to descend the steps, she heard Harper crying. She paused and stood at the top of the stairs for second before she backed up and shut the door quietly. She wouldn’t bother Harper with this. As she made her way through the kitchen she spotted Seth and Andrei making their way though the driveway to Seth’s car talking and laughing. Seth spotted her through the large kitchen window and smiled and waved at her, which she returned before she made to turn and ran smack into her dad.
“Jesus dad I-“
“You going out with them?” He nodded to the Jarvis’s driveway.
“Me? No im going to sketch a while. Why would I be going out with them?”
“Did you or did you not go golfing with them yesterday?”
She chuckled “How did-Yeah but what’s that have to do with anything?”
He crossed his arms and peered down at her “And which one was in your room when I came home?”
Maddie wanted to shrivel up and die right there on the hallway rug as she looked up at her dad. Though historically he wasn’t a yeller, she and Harper had never really tested his patience. Maddie had always been more trouble prone than her sister but having a boy into her bedroom closet was a new one. They’d always followed the house rules, and their dad was laid back for the most part.
But he didn’t seem angry. He stood staring at her eyebrows raised “Hmm?”
Maddie felt her face get red and cleared her throat, straightening up and looking her dad in the eye “Seth.”
Surprise registered across his face and his mouth opened “Really?”
She hoped that because her dad loved Seth and had watched him grow up that he wouldn’t be as upset about it if it had been Andrei, a guy who had just shown up a week ago. She cleared her throat, crossing her fingers behind her back and smiled hopefully at her dad “So how much trouble am I in?”
He shrugged “Why would you be in trouble?”
“Because I lied. I had a boy in my bedroom….i lied? Really nothing?”
He frowned but looked amused “Do you want to be in trouble?”
She shook her head “No.”
“Okay then. But don’t do it again.” He warned pointing a finger at her.
“Yessir.” She said with a salute and a stifled giggle as she moved past her dad and up the steps pulling out her phone to text Seth with a small smile.
M: My dad knows you were in my closet. He said he’s looking for you.
S: WHAT.
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white-00-7 · 1 day
Text
The fallen
Lucifer x reader
( after Adam died)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
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It was a regular day in the hazbin hotel. Charlie was doing redemption exercise with Angel Dust. Nifty was running everywhere to dust the place up, Vaggie was close to Charlie to help her , Alastor was in his chair as in the lobby could be heard a soft jazz song. Lucifer was in his apple tower. His room and workshop when all of the sudden a bright light illuminate his room and a crash sound outside the hotel making it to tremble a little.
When thwy all go outside to see what happened they see 2 angels fighting. One was an exterminator the other was strange. Her wings were a fuze of colors as the univers with stars, her black hair as the night was tied in loose braid. She was dressed in a royal blue dress that was covered in purple armor. She had a spear next to her but she was using her fists to fight that angel. She was speaking in a language that made then wonder what is she talking about. Even Lucifer haven't heard it before. After she threatened the angel she took their halo and broke it in her hands then get up and throw then away as they angel flow to the portal to heaven the one with wings of a galaxy was screaming at them something that was like swears and threats. After the portal close she sigh then took her own halo and look at it. Then in a fit of rage she broke hers to. She turn around to see demons in front of a building and took her spear and point it at them.
"Cine sunteți? De ce va uitați așa la mine?" (Who are you? Why are you guys looking at me that way) she speaks in that strange language again. Charlie come closer the the angel and ask her "Are you ok? You look hurt....your bleeding". The angel look at her smile as she understood what language to use to speak with them. "Hello. Yes I am good. But I want to ask you if you could show me the way to Charlie Morningstar? I heard that she can help me in a way to accept that I'm in hell. But first to tell you my name." She bows softly but with elegance. "My name is Y/n. I am the angel of galaxy. First to be created by the God and the last. Queen of dreams and hope and protector of balance".
Y/n pov:
'They are looking at me like I'm some kind of ghist or something. Hell. It is because of my wings?' She thought and hide her wings in her back. The girl with red circles on her cheeks and a big smile looks like an angel....is she the daughter of my little morningstar? "Hi my name is Charlie. Why don't you come in and let us help you patch up? I think you have a story to tell and maybe you will want to stay here" she said and approach y/n and she accepted Charlie hand. She made her spear disappear then walk into the hotel followed by the rest. Charlie sat her down on the couch as the rest sit around to listen.
"Ok so as I said I am y/n. The queen of dreams and hopes and protector of balance. I was the first and last angel of galaxy that God created. To protect humans by all kinds of threats from space like asteroids or black holes, to put stars on the night sky for them and to go to the dreams realm to fight with the nightmares who terorise humans. Being just me I dress differently as you all can see. I like white but my skin is already made of moon light and stardust. Dress differently speak differently and think differently. They thought that I am the problem. When I find out what they did to my little morningstar when I was gone I started to ask why and to find out, but they sended me on a mission again. I came back a week ago and when I find out finally when they did with Samael then here in hell killing innocent demons I started to question then to press them to stop. I told the whole heaven what they did and finally when you guys saw me I was fighting and destroyed the exorcism. I'm sorry it took so long to come here. Truly." She looks at all of then embarrassed then at Charlie and what she thinks it was her little star. Samael but now Lucifer.
Lucifer was startled to hear his other name then look at her puzzled. Charlie had tears in her eyes but then Angel Dust spooke "What do you mean by your little morningstar?" She smiled at then and blush softly as then sigh and open her palms. A soft light that sparks with a light so beautiful that made you feel warm and comfortable. "This is what humans called the star of morning. The first star to appear on the sky and the last to go. My little morningstar. This star is under Samael name because God wanted it to be so." She looks at Lucifer and smile as he was almost in tears. She put the star away and when the light disappeared she looks at all of then then wince and cover her right side of her stomach. Gold blood was gushing out and she started to breath heavily. "C...can someone carry me to a room? Preferably at the top of this building and to stich me up? Thanks" after those words she fainted.
Third person pov:
Y/n fainted as soon as she finished talking and Lucifer caught her body in time before falling. He looks at her puzzled and feeling strange after hearing her story. He knew of her name. Never seen her before tough. He looks at Charlie and she got up and started to walk upstairs where she thinks is the best room for her new guest. Lucifer placed y/n on the bed and snap his fingers to make some pijama pants and shirt appear. She give then to Charlie and told her to call Vaggie and change her clothes and dress her wounds as he leaves the women's alone.
(Not my art)
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sarahmackattack · 3 days
Note
Hi Sarah!
I have a cephalopod question: do ceph’s ever lose their suckers, and if so are they able to grow new ones?
And a SciComm question: do you have any advice for someone who wants to grow their career in SciComm? It’s my dream career but it seems like opportunities are few and far between.
Is it “better” to pursue a degree in a specific science, or to focus more on the education/teaching side of things?
(although a huge shoutout to you and the other SciComm folks sharing your passions! I did manage to get a part-time internship and job at my local zoo in their education department, and I only had the courage to pursue those opportunities thanks to people like you! Didn’t think I’d get this far, and now I can’t wait to take it even farther; I’ve just got to figure out how to get there first!)
Do ceph’s ever lose their suckers, and if so are they able to grow new ones? I'm sure they do! The regeneration of some species has been studied but not all of them so there's likely some species that are a little better at it than others (for example, it's probably something a predator that attacks very strong fast animals needs than an animal that primarily eats bivalves).
Do you have any advice for someone who wants to grow their career in SciComm? The trouble with this is that my job is very very weird, and doesn't exist in the kind of structure where you apply for a job →you get the job → you have a stable job. It's more similar to the safety and job structure of being an artist, but with a nonprofit thrown into the mix. It's... complicated! And not necessarily stable! All that to say, how I got here is not going to work for everyone and I honestly sometimes cant believe it worked/works for me at all. It might stop working any second.
But whatever here's what I did. I practiced science communication on social media and locally in Connecticut (where I was at the time). I tried to consume a lot of science communication and consider what was working in those pieces, and thought about what I enjoyed doing within that whole huge ecosystem. There's one zillion ways to do science communication, and different approaches will hit different audiences. It's totally critical for a lot of different people to be doing science communication in a way that feels genuine to them, in their own voices, with whatever methods they like doing the most so that as a collective, we hit the broadest patch of people. No one science communication technique is perfect for every "audience" member, so the diversity of approaches is so so important. I don't think that gets said enough. So explore! See what you like, see what you get joy out of doing, see how people react to it. Producing science communication as you're practicing will build out a portfolio of work that you can point to when you graduate.
There are a lot of kinds of science communication jobs. There's the freelance/DIY approach like having a podcast like Alie Ward, or founding a nonprofit (this is very hard and i don't recommend doing this lol), or having a successful youtube channel/social media situation like Hank Green or doing TV like Emily Calandrelli/Bill Nye/Phil Torres. Then there's working for an existing science education nonprofit like Biobus or Science Friday or working for institutions like museums/zoos/aquaria, etc. Theres also a whole field in the university system called "extension" where you're taking the work happening at the university and connecting the surrounding population with that work. Each of those jobs, particularly the older institution-based ones have their own structures and will come with different advice on how to get into those jobs. I'm not really sure about those. Having that science communication portfolio will likely help for all of them though!
As far as what to do for school... I think the true but kinda complicated answer is that often what we do for school isn't directly related to what we end up doing. The skills we build while we're in school, and the connections we make are really what determines where we end up and what we end up doing. So... really take seriously the stuff you're doing that nobody's telling you to do. That's as important as class... and honestly, in my personal experience, it's way more important than what you do in class.
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kelcemenow · 23 hours
Text
Drive Me Crazy - Chapter 9.
Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader
Words 2056
Warnings A little bit of strong language and a little bit of angst.
Huge thank you to the Anon who sent this in! They had such amazing words to say about my writing which I massively appreciate and then to top it off, had an incredible request for me! I only have experience with mechanics in the UK, so I’ve tried my best with this one! “I just recently got interested in Travis K. X reader stories and wanted to let you know, I read all of yours as quickly as I could. They are so well done and I couldn’t help but laugh/giggle and feel through each word you typed out. You’re doing amazing and I’m so glad to have stumbled onto your page. If you have any space for a request, I’d be curious about what Trav would think about having a military (like fighter pilot) or engineer or mechanic girlfriend. I see a lot of stories with him paired with models/singers/social media individuals (which are phenomenal!) but just wondering how he would be with a more tomboy like girlfriend!”
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CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
Your feet pounded the damp pavement, the earthy scent of rainfall thick in the air. You weren't 100% sure what you were going to say when you saw Travis, or even why you were heading to his place, but you figured the walk would help set your thoughts straight.
You pressed the heel of your palm to your forehead, closing your eyes for a second as you waited at the crosswalk, letting the traffic sounds of the street fade into the back of your mind. You had only known Travis for a couple of weeks, a handful of dates summarising what was still a very early relationship. If it could even be classed as a relationship.
He was charming, he was kind and gave you all of the attention that you could ever want.
But your lives were completely different.
Travis would spend his days giving interviews, recording his popular podcast and managing his successful and varied career and would spend his evenings in bars and clubs, being photographed rubbing shoulders with other well-known and high profile celebrities in designer outfits. You spent your days in overalls fixing cars and your evenings trying to clean the motor oil from your hair.
As the rain began to fall heavier, you pulled your sweatshirt hood over your head, pulling the edges of the fabric hard and clinging to them as if it was only thing holding you together. You checked the street signs ahead of you and continued in your way, staring down at the pavement to avoid to heavy raindrops that were falling hard from the gray sky above you.
The streets became quieter and the houses began to look bigger and more expensive. Travis' neighbourhood was quaint and humble, but still impressive, the sidewalks edged with a neat line of trees. You pulled your phone from your sweatshirt pocket, checking the address again and trying to focus on the house numbers as the raindrops built up onto the top of your cheeks.
You squinted further up the road to a house slightly set back from the sidewalk, large with brown roof tiles and a wide road that led to a double doored entrance. Nervously, you fidgeted with your fingers as you approached the house. You noticed a few vehicles scattered around the driveway and a well kept garden that looped around the property. Your wet hands rubbed against your soaked sweatshirt as you tentatively approached the door, your eyes fixated on the frosted glass panels. As your feet reached the top of the handful of stone steps, your heart instantly began beating faster and faster. Quickly clearing your throat, your shaking hands knocked firmly on the door and your chest swelled as you took a slow and deep breath.
Footsteps grew louder on the other side of the door and before you had chance to change your mind and turn away, the door opened and a blonde woman sporting glasses and a tight, black dress stared blankly at you. Your eyes darted to the house number that was displayed on the wall next to you and then towards your phone screen, confirming that you were at the correct house.
"Uhhh...sorry. I thought this...I mean-I'm sorry." You mumbled as you began to turn around, your chest filling with embarrassment. Of course he was seeing someone else.
"Y/N?" A voice called out.
You glanced around over your shoulder to see Travis making his way through a small gathering of people towards the doorway.
You smiled meekly, making uncomfortable eye contact with the group, "Travis? Sorry...I-"
"What are you doing here?"
You exhaled an awkward laugh and shook your head, "I don't really know."
His eyebrows lowered as he reached for your hands, "Is everything okay?"
You watched as his thumbs ran over the damp skin on back of your oil marked hands before looking up to see the pristine and glamourous blonde woman leaning on the doorframe, her arms crossed over her chest. You opened your mouth to speak but Travis ushered you away from the house.
"I'm filming a piece for Jason's documentary." He nodded towards the house and your eyes followed to see the crew of people looking in your direction. Lights and cameras were scattered around the room and a man appeared in the doorway holding a clipboard.
Your hands flew to your face, your wet hair plastered over your forehead, "I'm so stupid. You're so right, what am I doing here?"
Travis' lips curled downwards, his expression confused and mystified, before he smiled and pulled you closer to him, "It's fine, just come in. I'll get you some dry clothes and we can hang as soon as it's finished?"
"No, this is ridiculous." You shook your head and stepped away from Travis' grasp, "Thank you Travis, but I am so stupid."
He reached out for you again, "Why do you keep saying that? It's not a big deal?"
You retreated from him, stepping carefully down the remaining steps as you avoided eye contact with Travis, "I am so sorry I bothered you, Travis."
You pulled your sweatshirt hood tighter around your head, muffling whatever Travis called out to you and power walked away from the house, a mixture of raindrops and tears staining your cheeks.
______________________________________________________________
"Ahh...fuck!" You winced, sucking the air into your mouth through your teeth. Looking at your red fingertip, you noticed a small purple welt beginning to form thanks to the bolt that slipped from your grip.
You rolled your eyes, gripping your injured digit before leaning down back under the hood of the classic white Camaro that you were currently working on. It had been a week since you had seen Travis and in an attempt to forget about the situation, you had thrown yourself into your work, spending every hour you could at the garage.
As you brought your finger to your mouth to stem the blood that had started to emerge, you felt the car dip as someone rested their weight against the door.
"You need a break."
You tipped your head to see your Dad using a cloth to clean some oil from a large wrench. Bowing your head back down, you wiped your finger on your overalls and continued working, "No, I need to finish this turbo."
"I could take a look at it, if you want?" His voice was thick with concern.
Gripping the bolt again, you grimaced as the pressure caused a sharp pain to rush to your small injury, "I'm perfectly capable of doing it by myself."
Your Dad chuckled at your independence, a trait he had always admired, "I didn't say you weren't."
You stayed silent, aside from a short sigh when you had eventually managed to tighten the bolt adequately.
"Has he contacted you?"
"Dad-"
"No, Sport. Here me out."
You emerged from the hood, dropping it closed and walking to the open drivers side door as your Dad followed you around the vehicle.
"Has he contacted you?"
"Yes, he has. Every day this week, not that it matters." You said as you started the car, hearing the gentle purr of the engine.
"Okay." Your Dad pursed his lips and nodded his head slowly, "Look, I've never been the type of Father to tell you what to do, and I'm not about to start now. But I do think you're letting something really good go." He turned to walk away before stopping himself, "And I'm not just saying that because it's Travis Kelce."
You smiled and watched through the car windshield window as he strolled back into the garage office, his high pitched whistle fading from your ears.
______________________________________________________________
It was late and the garage was silent, aside from the occasional car passing by on the street. You dumped a handful of dirty rags into the hamper next to the office door and reached for the light switch, immersing the room into darkness.
You used the small amount of light beaming in from the office window to guide yourself to the large gray roller door that filled the wall. Turning the small metal key in the lock, you watched as the door began to descend. It had almost fully closed when you heard the sound of a car engine over the sound of the door motor. Beams of light peeped from underneath the bottom of door, brightness spilling out onto the smooth concrete floor.
You rolled your eyes and turned the key in the opposite direction, squinting and shielding your eyes from the gleam of the headlamps, "I'm sorry, buddy. We're closed...we actually closed a few hours ago."
A large figure stepped out of the vehicle but you struggled to identify it.
"Dude, did you not hear me?"
"Oh, I heard you." A familiar voice echoed in your ears, "But I ain't here for a service."
"Travis?"
As he stepped closer to you, the lights illuminated his face which was uncharacteristically covered in black smears. His usually pristine denim jeans were ripped in several places and a clear oily handprint was slapped across the right thigh. Your eyes drifted upwards to see his white t-shirt coated in stains of varying shapes, colours and sizes. He grinned at you, picking up a rag from the floor that you had missed and throwing it over his shoulder.
"Need some help?"
You narrowed your eyes, a small smirk growing on your face, "From you?
Travis looked around the room and shrugged his shoulders, glancing at the numerous cars and tools, "I could learn?"
"Travis, what are you-"
Before you had chance to finish your sentence, he stepped forward quickly and kissed you, his arms snaking around your waist. You melted into his hold, allowing his soft lips to move across yours and your hands to float up to the sides of his face. His thick stubble prickled against your fingertips, the intoxicating scent of his cologne enveloping you just as it did the first time.
He pulled away from you slowly, studying your expression, "Sorry, I just had to do that."
Your eyes drifted to the floor before closing shut whilst you took a deep breath. You focused in on the butterflies that were dancing in your stomach, trying to find the words that you wanted to say.
"You didn't reply to any of my messages."
His eyes were full of hurt and confusion and you suddenly felt a pang of guilt fill your chest, "I know. I needed to think."
One of Travis' hands ran up your side to cup your cheek, "About what? About us?"
"Yeah." You sighed, "I just don't know if we fit right. Although, I must say, you'd fit in here looking like that."
His eyes glinted, "You see? If I can fit in your world, you can certainly fit in mine."
You looked up, "I don't know if I can do it. The photographers, the online comments, I like my privacy, Travis."
"What online comments?"
"I saw something on Instagram, there was a photo of us and people...people had a lot to say about our relationship...or whatever it is." Tears began to pool against your lower lashes.
Travis held onto you tighter, "You shouldn't read that shit. I sure as hell don't! People are assholes, baby."
You leaned forward, resting your forehead against Travis' warm chest.
He continued, his large hand stroking the back of your head, "And if you want privacy, we can do that. You have the right to live your life however you want to, but I want you in mine."
Your heart jumped, a sudden overwhelm of emotion flooding you. You lifted up your head and breathed a laugh as a couple of tears ran down your cheeks, "I want you in my life too."
Travis' eyes creased into nothing, his smile as wide as it could possibly be, "So, that's settled then? Now, which of these car's needs my expertise?"
You threw your head back as you howled with laughter, throwing your arms around his neck and allowing him to take your weight. Your feet lifted from the ground and your lips crashed against his, this time a much deeper and passionate kiss, his fingers sinking into your flesh as if he never wanted to let go. Without breaking contact, you reached across and turned the key, shutting out the outside world.
______________________________________________________________
And it's done! This one has been my Everest! But thank you to everyone for their encouraging words and positivity! I hope this final chapter lives up to expectation!
I'll be scouring through my requests now and looking at doing some one-shots in the next few weeks to hopefully clear the list that has built up! I'll put a post out when my requests are open again!
If you want to be included in my Taglist, let me know and you'll never miss another fic from me (although don't be alarmed if there's a bit of a wait, that's my new style now apparently!)
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scribblestatic · 2 days
Text
Hey yo, time for a dose of Sheepzun :3
----
Shen Yuan snuck his way further onto Qiong Ding Peak in search of his student. He rammed a few demons along the way, leaving them laying about in his search. Which, yes, he was leaving a mess, but he didn't have opposable thumbs to clean up after himself and he's kinda busy right now!
After some searching, he heard some wild commotion. It looked to be coming from the central platform of Qiong Ding, right in front of the main hall. Who would attack the main hall first except for some show-off, ah? If you want to infiltrate, start from the corners and bleed inwards so the main brass doesn't notice until it's too late! That's the kind of method that works best in this dog-eat-dog world!
Regardless, he kept himself concealed as he approached, noting that most of the disciples, as expected, wore Qiong Ding Peak colors. A smattered few wore Qing Jing Peak ones, with only a dotted minority wearing those of other peaks. When his ears flicked backwards, he heard a few more Qing Jing Peak disciples on their way.
Ah, interrupting the demons in their effort to break the bridge was a good idea! Perhaps Qing Jing could protect these lambs while waiting for more powerful backup. However, Qing Jing Peak didn't have many disciples, right? If it was one of the other peaks, there'd be more backup...but, of course, they'd mostly be lambs.
Where were the instructors, ah?? Their cultivation should be better than these little ones!
Frustrations aside, Shen Yuan snuck around the back of the crowd, easing his way toward the front. He had to be careful several times to avoid rushing disciples, keeping them from knocking into him or his horns.
Eventually, he made it near the front, only to see...dancing?
No, it was a battle. But it looked more like dancing to him than expected. Their fighting was elegant in a way, but it wasn't the sort of bloody event he'd been expecting between an immortal and a demon. Though, perhaps that had to do with the immortal's lack of spiritual sword. She must be of Luo Binghe's generation, some of whom haven't received their swords yet.
As such, her sword didn't ring with powerful energy, and as Shen Yuan watched, he saw her make a few mistakes. She overextended her arm at times, spun a little too loosely, just minute errors. But they built up, resulting in her loss once the demoness she battled struck her arm and chest.
After she picked herself up from the ground, she walked over to a lofty immortal who was leisurely fanning himself and--
Ah! Wasn't that one of the immortal lords he'd rescued in the cave? He was well! How wonderful!
Indeed, his colors were clearly Qing Jing, and he'd managed to clean himself up quite well. Perhaps he'd been cultivating in a different cave before finding the other...err...the pretty one. Yeah. Shen Yuan looked around briefly, realizing he couldn't see him anywhere. Maybe he was still recovering? He couldn't imagine it took that long, but he's a ram. Maybe it worked differently for humans.
Anyway, this guy, in his silver hair crown, fanning himself leisurely, was clearly some sort of immortal master. And he'd saved this guy's life? Perhaps he had some golden thighs to cling to after all!
...Eh? What a strange thought he just had. What 'golden thighs'?
"This disciple has lost and disgraced the mission, I request that Martial Uncle Shen punish me."
Punishment? No, she didn't deserve any sort of punishment. She'd done her best all things considered. Instead, she needed to learn the places she could've done better and continue her educa--
The immortal huffed, dismissing her with the wave of his fan, his expression curled in derision. The veiled girl managed a respectful bow despite her injured arm, then joined the gaggle of other girls in purple garb much like her own.
?
???
???
What an asshole???
Excuse me, Mr. Immortal, this ram had to save you in the caves! Where do you get off on acting like that little lamb was bothering you with her earnest attempt? Aren't you something of a teacher? Shouldn't you use this as an opportunity for her to learn?!
This Shen guy--
...Shen.
As in, Shen Qingqiu?
The demoness who won against the veiled girl smiled coquettishly, her body loosely covered in red bolts of fabric. So much skin, there was little left to the imagination. Ah, but Shen Yuan didn't think too much of that. As it was, his tail and wool were all that maintained his decency, in the humanoid sense, anyway. He would not be a pot berating a kettle.
Rouged lips parted to show bright teeth, canines a tad too sharp to be strictly human.
"This third trial will determine the victory! Who will you send up for the next trial, Elder Shen? This time, you had better choose carefully."
Agh, it really was Shen Qingqiu, wasn't it?
This lofty immortal with no teaching ability, this man was his Bing-lamb's human shizun? What a waste of a handsome face!
Ah, no, he should wait. It wouldn't be right to judge someone so quickly. After all, that immortal had been trying to help his pretty comrade in the caves, only for his messed up meridians to hinder him. If anything, the fact he's cultivated up to a core formation shows his dedication to the craft. Indeed, perhaps this man was simply somewhat cagey.
When the man spoke, a handsome, if not snide, voice rang out.
"No need for the Young Miss to trouble herself. This Shen has a person in mind."
Oof, he's definitely cagey. And quite apt at insults.
The young miss in question called out for a warrior on her side to come forth for what was apparently the third trial. So, there had been a battle beforehand? Who had fought?
But Shen Yuan's thoughts quickly became distracted when the ground below him shook. He moved out of the way as disciples around him shook and clustered in closer, clearly feeling some fear.
Not that Shen Yuan would blame them, considering the one that stepped out!
The huge demon elder was definitely some sort of giant! At least ten zhang tall, with a thick, hefty build, wearing thorny armor all over his body, he dragged an equally-large sledgehammer behind him. A toothy grin peered out from behind his shaggy hair and helmet.
The demoness in red spread her arms in display.
"I'll give everyone on this immortal mountain a warning first. The spikes on Elder Tian Chui's armor are covered with my family's strongest poison. This kind of poison has no effect on demons, but if a human is pierced, there is no cure."
...Excuse me, Young Miss?
Why would you bring an incurable poison to an immortal's mountain unless you meant to murder? Why bother playing around and fighting three rounds when the last one clearly shows your intent? What kind of infiltration is this?!
Also, Tian Chui?! Was this elder born carrying his sledgehammer the entire time?!! Did his mother look down at his body and say, "Dear demon child, look at you, born with a hammer! Your hammer will one day pierce the heavens and fight the power of the immortals!"
Terrible naming! Absolutely the worst!! Spit on your mother's grave, Tian Chui!!
Shen Yuan was so close to stomping his hooves in irritation, he had to grit his teeth to keep himself from doing so. But goodness, he'd never felt so enraged in his life! Something about being away from Qing Jing and Luo Binghe just made this world and its intricacies ten times worse.
Where was his little lamb? He should get the boy and go back to Qing Jing immediately. At least to get away from this mess!
The disciples around him clearly agreed, airing out their frustrations.
"Stinking demon girl!! Competing is competing! Using a strong poison--what fairness is there!"
Damn right, boy in Qiong Ding robes!
But the demoness just laughed.
"I didn't hide this point. If you feel anything's unfair, or if you're afraid of getting poisoned and losing your life, the custom is to cede the trial. There would be no more need to compete then. We demons won't laugh at you since we cherish life." Her grin sharpened then, clearly mocking. "It's only human."
Ah. She's a bitch.
Shen Yuan's not sure what a 'bitch' is, but whatever it is, she's that. He'd have to find out later.
The disciples continued their complaints, angrily condemning the demons. And, of course, none of them stepped forward. Who would? It's not just human nature to value your own life--it's the nature of all living organisms! Who in their right mind would throw it away once you told them an action would end it?
Shen Qingqiu was clearly thinking the same thing. After all, he was being quite quiet as the bantering slowed. As an immortal master of some sort, surely he wouldn't threaten the lives of his little lambs. He was an adult! It's important to give lambs the opportunity to grow, but it needed to be under controlled circumstances.
Before, with the demoness, there wasn't a threat of death. Now there was. Surely, the master would argue--
“Luo Binghe, you come out.”
...
Eh?
After a beat of silence, the Qing Jing disciples immediately started yelling. Disciples from other peaks barely did so, but they could be excused. They didn't know that Luo Binghe, instead of being a head disciple with 30+ years of cultivation under his belt, was just a wee lamb with less than two decades under his belt, more than half of which were spent in the mortal realm.
Of course, knowing this, Ming Fan--Ming Fan of all people--paled, suggesting he wasn't suitable for the task. A young girl also in Qing Jing robes cried out, attracting Shen Yuan's attention.
Sure enough, he finally found Binghe.
His lamb was stiff, eyes wide. The girl who had cried out was clinging to one of his arms--ah, yes, Ning Yingying--saying in a sort of babyish cry that she didn't want Luo Binghe to fight, stamping her feet much like Shen Yuan wanted to.
Of course! Good girl! She got his Binghe into trouble a few times, but she had a good heart overall!
But the immortal simply raised a brow.
“I said to let him go up so he should go up. Are you unsatisfied with this master’s judgment? Ying-er, let him go.”
As Luo Binghe comforted the girl, his tanned face pale, Shen Yuan shook, his hearing turning to white noise.
What was this? Was this really happening right now?
The boy's just barely 16, and he has had next to no battle experience at all. Although Binghe told him about the trip down the mountain and how Ning Yingying had gotten kidnapped, that experience barely counted for anything. A skinner demon was substantially less threatening than this bear of an elder.
What sort of...
He blinked, ears still ringing, and Luo Binghe stood before the hefty demon, like a sproutling before a fierce storm of demonic energy.
Like a lamb to the slaughter.
An anger like no other struck through his body. This...he had to stop this. If Luo Binghe met his end here, he wouldn't be able to live with himself--
But another thought came to him.
He was a teacher, was he not? At least, Luo Binghe trusted him to be a teacher.
And this situation... Luo Binghe was not prepared for it. And so, he should step in...
But something told him to wait. Something nagged at the back of his mind to stay his hooves and watch. It was the same sort of feeling that drew him to the cave, only this time, it was...light.
Positive.
...Although this sort of thing could be like a lamb to the slaughter, an old story he'd heard from another culture also came to mind. Of a young man wielding only a slingshot against a giant. He couldn't remember the names of the subjects in the sacred texts...Dà Wèi [大卫 - David] and Jùrén [巨人 - Goliath], maybe?
Anyway, from what little he could remember in his strange, hazy recollections was that Da Wei, despite being heavily outclassed, won against Juren just using that slingshot he had.
Shen Yuan's little lamb...perhaps he was just as powerful.
Despite his strong desire to interfere, he shakily placed his hoof back down, teeth gritting.
...He would trust in Binghe's power. What he needed more than protection was belief. He needed someone to truly believe in him. And so, as his shizun, he would take that position and put all of his power into believing in Luo Binghe's success.
And so, with the heavy slam of Elder Tian Chui's sledgehammer, the battle began.
Shen Yuan watched carefully, his eyes solely on Luo Binghe. If he would not interfere, then he would catalogue all his movements. Every single place he could've been better, every single move he could improve. He would do his job as his teacher.
He choked down a bleat the first time the hammer made contact with Luo Binghe's body.
But he also watched as the boy rolled, redirecting as much of the pressure as possible to reduce damage. He was, undoubtedly, still hurt, but he showed no weakness.
Indeed, a prey animal could not show any weakness. Doing so could spell death.
Even a mouse, when cornered, opens its mouth and squeaks a war cry against the cat hunting it, threatening with its little teeth.
With enough of an opening, that little mouse would jump forward and bite.
Luo Binghe had taken such lessons to heart, searching for the best place to strike. But it was very difficult. Trying to strike would mean getting closer to the poisoned armor which could kill him.
He was as spry on his feet as possible, still getting hit and nicked at times, but far from the sort of failure one would expect of a poorly trained disciple.
Even so, Cang Qiong's disciples were losing faith.
“Isn’t this a sure loss? What is there to compete?”
Shut up, Qiong Ding disciple.
Eventually, even the demon side recovered from their stupor, jeering at Luo Binghe as he took and avoided hit after hit, no closer to landing a single blow on Elder Tian Chui than before.
The elder bellowed out a laugh that echoed across the area as he caught Luo Binghe with his hammer again.
"This little doll had better admit defeat soon and get off the stage! This old man can still leave you a life!"
A life. Not alive.
Being alive and living a life were two different things, with the context changing depending on who said it and what they meant.
Many of the mortals below were living a life. Those with crippled legs and blinded eyes were living a life of struggle more so than others. The wealthy and affluent could be said to truly be alive. The immortals, with the resources to pursue their immortality, could be said to be living a life worth being alive for.
For some reason, Shen Yuan thought of a human in a strange white room.
He heard beeping from several tall devices near some sort of futuristic bed.
The figure in the bed had short, wavy hair, some of it splayed on the pillow, and a clear mask-like device over his face.
He was pale, dark circles under his eyes, and when he opened them, they stared out at the window, the light too bright for Shen Yuan's imagination to see what was outside. But he could see it.
Longing. Desire.
A painful, reaching drive to leave the pale, beeping room and be alive.
Binghe will be alive.
He is alive, and he will remain that way. He need not accept the scraps of life some elder demon would throw at him. No, Luo Binghe could take it for himself.
With that in mind, Shen Yuan put power into his thoughts, and, mentally reaching out to the boy, he spoke to him.
--
'Luo Binghe, you will win.'
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tumblingxelian · 12 hours
Note
wrt yang and resentment—smth else to note is "resentment" is a complex emotional state and not synonymous with anger necessarily; it’s "that’s not fair/you hurt me" and while it can be expressed outwardly anger, it can also look like… disappointment, distrust, sadness, bitterness, feeling alone, feeling uncomfortable or unable to relax around someone, emotional masking due to feeling dismissed or unsafe. ’cause the defining characteristic of resentment isn’t a specific emotion; it’s that it develops in reaction to a specific type of harm, injustice or humiliation that can’t be remedied.
like yang saying "i don’t know… some things you just need to be there for" in a tone of quiet resignation—that is resentment. to use a different character as an example: yang resented that blake ran after beacon fell, which comes out as both passive-aggressive bitterness ("why would i want her here? she could’ve been here if she cared") AND anguish ("how can i be there for her if she won’t let me? what if i needed her here for me?"). but more often than not the way yang displays resentment is in the disappointed / resigned / quietly bitter zone.
Oh snap, so cool to see you in my inbox :) thanks for this submission, its very insightful and well thought out!
You are entirely correct regarding how resentment can manifest in many ways and facets. Within the context of my post, the reason I approached resentment as I did is because of how the person I was debating with framed and provided the 'examples'.
Namely how they claimed Yang 'only' expresses resentment by being snippy, rude and hurting those around her. Usually while leaning on examples where in Yang was just kind of angry, under the influence of the Apathy, or having her trauma's stamped on. While also neglecting any other examples, or the fact that even after a burst of defensive anger like in Volume 5 her response was to isolate and be super depressed, then as you said anguish when confronted.
So yeah, it was very much rooted in trying to address a specific misunderstanding of Yang as a character over following the dictionary definition of the term. Also very solid examples there in the second segment, well said!
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mysterymeatmunchr · 2 days
Text
Barkback Mountain By The MeatMunchr
Authors notes:
3.3k words, one shot, FTM MLM
This is basically my “If Brokeback Mountain was two trans male cowboys fucking raw and nasty in the woods” fantasy. Oh, and also they’re both into pet play.
Content Warnings:
Consensual Fighting/Impact play, Struggling/Struggle Fucking, Blood, Spit, Knives, Cutting, Degradation, Pet Play, Brief light CNC
Character Descriptions:
I didn’t name the characters because I want readers to be able to think of whoever they want, BUT I did picture what they look like to me. You can picture them differently if you would like to.
The Narrator:
FTM, bear, butch, short and stout, broad shouldered, muscular but not toned, beer bellied, full dark thick and curly body hair, full trimmed beard, chest length loose dark curls, wide calloused hands, dark hooded eyes, broad browed, and strong featured.
He wears a black cattleman hat, a dark denim shirt, dark denim pants, brown boots, and a silver bolo tie.
The Lover:
FTM, otter/cub, butch, short, muscular and toned, broad shouldered, full thick dark curly body hair, full overgrown stubble, brow length loose brown curls, brown soft downturned eyes, and soft featured.
He wears a tan cattleman hat, a blue denim shirt, blue denim pants, and tan boots.
————
As I stand in the clearing waiting for him to arrive, I wonder if he’s gotten lost again. I was sure to give him plenty of markers to look out for on the way, and it isn’t all that hard once you reach the creek, but for a cowhand he sure is poor at finding his way. I’ve waited this long to see him again, I’m sure I can wait moments longer until he stumbles upon the clearing. I find a stump to rest on while I wait with my thoughts to keep me company. The excitement and nerves tangle up my insides, but I can manage a stoic front.
It isn’t too long before a rustling comes from the trees and a familiar form appears. A man close to my height, a little more on the slender side compared to my burly stout build and beer fattened stomach, but still stocky enough to keep up with the other cattlemen. Unlike the others, we both hold the same secret. We knew from the day we set eyes on each other we were different from the others. It was an unspoken kinship, something in our eyes that screamed out to each other, ‘I know what you are.’ It wasn’t long before we started having our little… meetings…
As the other man approaches I stand to greet him, “Took you long enough,” His dark unkempt curls are spilling out from under his hat and his blue denim fit him well, starched like a gentleman for a special occasion. “You know I’ve never met a cowhand as directionless as you. It’s damn near shameful.”
“It’s nice to see you too,” he says with a smile.
“I wasn’t lost this time, I saw something a ways back by the creek and stopped for it.”
The man sets down his pack next to mine, then lifts his tan hat up revealing a white handkerchief tied up into a sack, peppered with deep dark stains. He hands me the parcel from atop his head. I untie the knots revealing blackberries bursting with juice.
“Well, this is mighty kind of you, thank you. I apologize for my comments.” I bit into a berry and he did the same, the dark juice pooling between his teeth like a beautiful premonition of what’s to come. “It’s nice to see you too.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks me. His brown eyes glowing gold in the tree filtered sunlight.
“Of course I do, the hardest part is deciding whether or not I’m letting you throw the first punch,” I said, trying and failing to wipe a smirk off my face. “Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet.”
“I’m not,” his tone was serious. “I want this, and this time, I’m gonna win.”
“It’s cute that you think that pretty boy, we’ll see.” I take off my bolo tie and denim shirt, fold up the shirt and place it on top of my pack along with my black cattlemen hat. My partner does similarly and we head to the center of the clearing.
Blow after blow, noses and mouths bloodied, the metallic taste on our teeth fuels something deeply primal and terrifying within us as we spit and growl and scream at each other. The sweat, blood, and dirt on him fills my lungs. The smell is sickeningly sweet. He socks me square in my jaw. I roar before spitting out the blood. ‘Enough,’ I think to myself. I shove the smaller man to the ground, eyes aflame, no longer recognizing the beautiful boy I’ve bloodied, bruised, and beaten. My muscles ache, wrestling him into submission, our bodies woven together in a desperate battle for dominance. I finally pin him down on his back, straddling his hips, gripping both his wrists hard enough to bruise. He’s banging his head into the earth, thrashing his arms and legs, trying and failing to free himself from the heavy strength and weight of me. He howls out a deep, defeated, guttural scream. His teeth bared and snarling, with strings of bloody spit weaving through his hateful mouth.
I smile as he spits on my face. I look him in the eyes smug as I lick his spit off the side of my mouth.
“You’re disgusting,” he hisses through gritted teeth, knowing I’d won, knowing he wants me to dominate him and he hates me for it.
I hold him there still for a moment to take in my work. I need to see it, the hate and lust and defeat. Angry tears well up in his eyes as the blood rushes in and swells up my already leaky tcock.
I crash into his lips devouring him while he lets out little curses between each breath, he breaks my desperation with a bite to my lip. He gives me all the spite in his body until he draws blood. I smile, lip still caught between his teeth, as I grab his jaw digging my fingers into his bruised cheeks to release myself. I’m thankful for it, he just gave me a reason to pull away and strike his face hard with an open hand. I spit on his pitiful, beautiful, beaten face and strike him once more. I lap it up off his cheek along with the blood and dirt like a ravenous dog, unable to stop myself from grinding against his struggling hips. The degradation of him is burning up something hateful and angry and shameful inside me.
I move his wrists into one of my hands, keeping him pinned as I reach for my hunting knife. Savoring the fear in his eyes, I hold the blade to his throat.
“Don’t. Fucking. Move.” I whisper into his ear.
Keeping him at knife point I get up and hastily kick off my boots and tear off my jeans and drawers. I know I already have him, he’ll be good and stay put for me, but I’m just too impatient, I want to defile him so badly.
I crash back down to the earth to rip off his jeans. I can hear his ragged breaths through the leaves singing in the wind. I slash through his drawers with my knife, before tracing down his stomach with the blunt side of the blade. He knows what’s coming next. I press the tip of my knife into his thigh and drag slowly, his body tenses and he whimpers. The sound sends blood rushing to my pulsing heat. I’ve marked him with another tally, another loss, permanently scarred next to seven previous defeats. I don’t know when this part of the ritual began but I fell in love with how humiliating this is, especially for him, knowing my thigh bears only three marks and his now holds eight. A tear rolls down his soiled cheek as I force open his legs, pinning up one of his thighs before holding my knife back up at his throat. I look into his eyes hazed with fear and lust, without words, I’m commanding him, not asking, yet still he nods his head. It’s more permission than I needed to mount him. Dripping and hungry, I grind my boycunt against his. His defiance and anger is melting into submission, as he begins to match my movements. We rut into each other like dogs in heat.
One of his hands claws into my forearm just barely holding the knife at bay, and the other clutches the forest floor tight as we frot. Our cum soaks the earth beneath us. He desperately grinds his hips into mine, he can’t bite back his moans anymore.
“Please,” he whimpers like a dog, “Please, use your mouth, I need your tongue,” begging through gasps. He’s mine. He knows he’s mine. I dig my nails into the soft, hairy skin of his thighs, and he winces.
“How badly do you want me?” I challenge, my voice deep and rasped with breathlessness, “Show me,” I command.
Slowly his hand releases my forearm, leaving behind bloodied crescent moons and the beginnings of bruises where his nails were once buried. My nails embedded in his thigh follow suit, and I toss away my knife.
“Please,” he whispers, beginning to prop himself up. I nod and allow him to sit up, he brings his face close to mine and kisses me gently, then pulls away. “I want you so badly” he whines.
I feel the heat of his hand radiate down my big hairy stomach as he makes his way towards my swollen heat. He lays his head on my shoulder and I clutch his shaggy brown curls forcefully. A moan escapes his lips. His fingers begin to stroke my throbbing aching cock, and I can feel the cum dripping from my boycunt. I let a moan slip out, and he hesitates.
“Don’t stop, show me how badly you want me, how badly you want me to suck you off,” I say, my breath becoming uneven, “Show me you’re my pet now.”
He glides a finger against my messy hole, tracing back up to my cock rubbing against my throbbing heat in tight circles, pulling back and forth on my foreskin with each stroke. I buck against his fingers, and start to claw deeply into his back. His hand feels so good, I asked for this but I want to draw his blood for reminding me his touch can weaken me. He slides a finger down towards my cunt.
“Enough,” I release him, and pull his hand away from my crotch before he can enter me.
I push him to the forest floor and pry apart his legs, revealing his soaked pulsing tcock and cunt. I can’t hold back anymore. I’m starving for him. I look him in his eyes, and place my hand against his cheek streaked with dirt, blood, sweat, and spit. With lips barely parted, I kiss him, I drink deep the taste of his lips, his spit, his blood. I bite his lip before I move to his cheek, his jaw, his neck, biting, kissing, licking, I take in the soft sweet skin of his neck. I savor its flavor and scent as I leave behind a mark to tell him he’s mine, to tell the world he’s mine. I rip apart his undershirt so I can devour him in his entirety, as I make my way down towards his warm, throbbing boycunt. I want to consume him whole, and stain him with my hunger. My pet yelps and whines with each marking and cries out from each ravenous bite I inflict.
I pin down his thighs as I hover over his tcock. I can feel his heat on my face. I embed my nails into the tender skin of his thighs. My hot breath lands in his dark curly pubic hair. I press my lips against his inner thigh, nipping him lightly, a few warning shots, before biting down hard. He cries out to the treetops as he squirms underneath me, but I hold him down steady. I lick the bite mark and blow cool air over the tender spot, making him shiver. A hot insatiable feeling wells up from deep within my stomach and my cock aches and throbs. Finally, I envelop his cock in my mouth, sucking and stroking his pulsating bundle of nerves with my lips and tongue, drowning in the taste of him as he ruts into my face and clutches fistfuls of my long dark curls.
I release him from my mouth before sucking and teasing the swollen lips of his cunt. I want to taste all of him. My good boy grinds into me, begging for more with his puppy whimpers. I lap up his tcock with long broad strokes before quickening my pace, swirling my tongue around his raging growth. I dip my tongue down plunging into his cunt as he slams down his hips, fucking himself on my tongue. I switch between his cock and cunt, savoring both the taste of him, and the sound of his cries echoing through the forest.
I pull myself up to meet his face, and kiss him. I want him to taste himself on my lips. He looks up at me with his brown puppy eyes, and opens his mouth for me, tongue out, panting like a dog. I spit in his mouth and he takes it, swallowing and sticking his tongue out once more. I cup his face, letting him suck my thumb. I pull out and raise my hand to strike him, he flinches and I laugh. He wears such a sweet humiliated expression.
“How pitiful, be a good boy and wait here for me,” I say, petting his cheek before getting up, “and touch yourself while I’m gone mutt.”
I retrieve and don my prosthetic from my pack, as well as another piece of my leather work, a leather collar and lead. Making my way back to my pet, I take in the sight of him panting and arching his back as he strokes himself, and heat rushes through me. Filtered sunlight speckles his body. ‘My dog has spots,’ I think to myself, chuckling. His legs are open and ready for me. ‘What a pathetic mutt.’
I kneel between his legs, moving away his ‘paw’ and grind my prosthetic on his cock.
“Lift your head and stick out your tongue,” I order, buckling on his collar and lead. “You’re my dog now, my pet, my plaything. Never once were you anything but this.”
I place a finger on his tongue and pull his lead. He needn’t be told, he takes in my finger sucking and moaning, rutting himself on my prosthetic, and coating my finger with spit.
“Stroke yourself.”
I press my finger against the slick entrance of his cunt. I don’t even press in before he’s bucking his hips, fucking himself on my finger and panting. I curl my finger upwards and slowly fuck his hole, still pulling his lead. His hips are rustling the leaves beneath us, moving against my rhythm, trying to get more from me as he strokes himself faster.
“P-pl-please,” he stutters out, “another.” I cover his mouth with my hand, the lead worn around my wrist.
‘Dogs can’t speak.’
I thrust another finger in him, massaging the tender rippled flesh inside, rough and hard. I can feel his muffled moans vibrating under my rough palm. I want to hear him. I remove my hand and glide down his body until I grasp his hip. His cunt tightens on me, pulsating, milking my fingers for all the pleasure his greedy hole can get. He cries out, and I feel his warmth spray out from him onto my stomach and thighs.
“Don’t stop!” he begs, and I tug his lead sharply. He does not command me.
I pull out, spit into my hand, and coat my prosthetic with his cum and my spit. I plunge deep into him and he screams from the stretch. I slam into his cunt thrusting slow and hard, with no rest or reprieve for him to adjust to the size. His eyes roll back into his skull. He’s losing focus. ‘What a stupid dog,’ I think as I strike him with the back of my hand.
“Don’t stop touching yourself,” I growl. His hand speeds up again.
As I tug on his lead with every thrust, breathy moans escape him. I have him hold up one of his legs for me with his free hand, and the wetness spraying from his cunt soaks the harness of my prosthetic, and my stomach. I wipe it from my belly and slap him with it to punish my pet for the mess he’s made. He’s too fucked out to even wince. He moans for me at the impact. I’ve broken in my pet nicely.
The expression on his face, the sound of his cries, the sight of his throbbing swollen cock, the smell and taste of our blood staining my senses, and the base of the prosthetic grinding on my cock with each thrust lights a fire in me. I crash down on him, wrapping my arms under his shoulders and digging my nails into him. The weight of my body is pressed into his as I mercilessly fuck into him. He claws into my back and wraps his legs around my waist driving his hips into me as we howl like wild dogs.
I kiss and bite his neck as he gasps and pants in my ear. His nails in my back sting fiercely. He’s undoubtedly drawn blood. I cry out, but my pace is unwavering. My cock throbs and aches for release with every thrust. I can’t tell if the cum running down my thighs is his or mine. I use all the strength left in my body to lift him up off the forest floor. His legs still wrap around my waist and he clutches my shoulders. My ragged breaths and grunts pour from my mouth for the whole forest to hear. Hands gripping his ass, slamming him down on my prosthetic, I’m plowing up into him as he cries out. I feel his body tense and shake, his cries getting louder and louder, until he collapses onto me. I know he’s finished but I do not stop. My body aches, but I can’t stop. Pleading and sore he grasps me tightly once more.
“Please! Stop! I came! Please!” he begs, but dogs can’t speak.
I keep slamming my prosthetic into his cunt, grinding my cock against the prosthetic desperate to finish. My core tightens as I thrust into him faster, using his cunt as I please. My blood rushes to my head and cock, my heart pounds in my ears, my vision darkens, my body shakes, until suddenly, finally, I cum.
My legs buckle but I steady myself, laying my partner gently to the ground, and kissing his forehead before collapsing to the ground beside him. We’re breathless, sweat and cum soaked, and soiled with dirt and blood, but the breeze blowing through the trees cools us. I wince, noticing the sweat rolling down my face and soaking my back stinging all of my cuts and bruises. I turn to face my lover, and pull him to me. I cup his bruised face and wipe a tear stain with my thumb.
“Are you alright? Was it too much? How bad does it hurt?” The questions spill from me too quickly. How could I do all those awful things? How could I like all those awful things? He places a finger gently up to my lips silencing me.
“Yes. No. Could be worse.” He laughs, smiling at me, “It was good. You’re good.”
“Is there anything I can do for you?” I ask. My disregard for him from before is melting away into concern and shame.
“Just lay here a spell with me, then maybe you can roll me a smoke after we fix each other up.” He reassures me. He’s taken my shame and casted it away. I press him tighter to me.
“As you wish, you did so good for me. Thank you. Thank you.” I whisper to my lover. A tear stings my busted cheek.
I press my lips to his gently. We’re both bruised and aching with lips busted, but this gentleness and tenderness for each other overwhelms all else.
I hold him to my chest, petting and kissing his head, while he strokes my chest. We listen to the trees rustling, and a faint babbling whispering from the creek, and the steadily slowing beating in our chests. I don’t think of how long it will be before I can see him in this light, and in this clearing, or how long it will be before, in these secluded moments, I can scream to heaven he’s mine, the way I wish I could scream it to the world. In this moment time stands still, and we can stay here forever.
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